Chapter 35 The Young Fox Who Meets the Chief Archmage

Though Ramen flew slowly, it was not due to the burden it carried; even when unladen, its speed in the air was only comparable to a human's light jog. Only when it matured and gained greater mastery over its innate control of air elements would it be able to use jets of air to fly faster.

“Brother Little Fox, why are we here?” Honey tilted her head and asked.

“We’re here to find Sir Newton. I have some difficult questions for him,” Vinigo replied. “Do you two have any plans?”

Honey naturally had none. Sophie merely cocked her head slightly and said, “I’ll join you.”

Vinigo smiled and walked toward the Coronation Hall on the north side of town, where Sir Newton usually attended to his affairs—though it was said that this absent-minded, childlike baronet rarely had any real business to conduct.

With the honorary badge from Ironfist Castle, they were easily granted an audience after being announced.

When they entered, they found Sir Newton, the kingdom’s chief archmage, lying on the floor, deeply absorbed in studying two gemstones—not their magical properties, but using the priceless, spherical stones as marbles, flicking them across the floor.

“You’d best not bother me with trivialities,” Sir Newton said without looking up. “I’m about to break my record; don’t waste my time.”

“What record, Sir?” Honey also lay on the floor, watching with curiosity, a look of confusion on her face.

“Oh? A little girl? What brings you here? Want to try breaking the record with me?” Sir Newton asked.

“Yes, yes… but Brother Little Fox has something to discuss with you,” Honey replied slyly, reaching for the gemstones.

A soft whisper—a gentle, invisible breeze brushed past Honey’s fingertips, nudging her hand away.

“Incredible control. But then, that’s only to be expected from the kingdom’s chief archmage,” Vinigo murmured to himself.

“I want to ask you about the Divine Exiles,” Sophie stepped forward, speaking calmly and steadily.

Vinigo narrowed his eyes. He did not look up but glanced at Sophie from the corner of his eye.

Could it be… she’s after the same answer as I am?

“The Divine Exiles… beings forcibly banished to the rifts between planes by powers far beyond their own. That’s not something mortals should concern themselves with,” Sir Newton rose to his feet and spoke slowly.

“If—just hypothetically—someone wanted to send a banished god back to their original divine realm, how would they do it?” Vinigo asked.

“It’s not so complicated, really. First, you must accurately locate the planar coordinates of the rift and leave a planar marker in this world for the deity. Next, you need a tremendously powerful magical ritual to summon the coordinates within the rift, and ensure the exiled god simultaneously uses an identical ritual to summon the world’s planar marker—that is, you, as the ritual’s anchor,” Sir Newton explained. “The summoning must begin and end at the same moment. Only then will it succeed.”

“Sounds simple enough?” Vinigo muttered, dazed.

“Yes, it’s not really difficult,” Sir Newton admitted. “But there’s a catch—the ritual, only Archibald knew it. The Void Rite, the mightiest of spatial magics.”

“Wait… Archibald? The one who was once King Roland’s brother, famed as history’s most gifted necromancer?” Vinigo was stunned.

“Yes, and he’s already been turned to stone, as you know,” Sir Newton said with a shrug. “If you can solve that problem, the rest is manageable.”

Indeed, Vinigo carried the marker Sophie had left with him, and as for the planar rift where Sophie was, she, as a former goddess, could surely provide its coordinates to Vinigo. But the Void Rite…

Ah, and there was Prince Nicholas, who possessed the necessary “key” to free Archibald. The key, together with a special magical item, could break Archibald’s petrification. Only after obtaining the scroll from Archibald and delivering it to the Messenger of Paradise would they have the Void Rite.

What a tangled web… Ordinary people could never hope to meet the Messenger, and to do so required currying favor with all eight great nobles of the High Council—so Vinigo wondered if, in his lifetime, he could ever truly bring Sophie back.

Of course, it was never going to be easy to summon back an exiled deity…

“Well, your questions are answered. Now, help me with a problem,” Sir Newton said bluntly.

“At your service,” Vinigo replied, bowing slightly.

“There’s a volcanic island out at sea—southeast, not southwest. An uninvited guest has taken up residence there, and I do not care for his company. Go deal with him for me,” Sir Newton said with a dismissive wave, as if shooing away a fly.

“My pleasure… but could you tell me what kind of opponent we’ll be facing?” Vinigo asked.

“They call themselves warlords,” Sir Newton replied lightly. “I have no fondness for those sorts—no sense of beauty, only obsessed with raw magical power. No better than crude warriors!”

Vinigo chuckled but did not comment. Sir Newton might sneer at them as tasteless brutes, but Vinigo dared not underestimate them. Warlords not only wielded the most destructive magic among all mages, but possessed a unique, battle-mad frenzy.

In games, such frenzy was nothing to fear—a twisted mouth could still swing a greatsword. But here… Vinigo had no intention of finding out the hard way.

To him, losing one’s reason was a sure path to ruin.

Sir Newton watched Vinigo and his companions depart, chuckling softly to himself as he gazed at the singularly peculiar youth.

“Could he be… a chosen one?”

Vinigo, unaware of Sir Newton’s scrutiny, took out the holy emblem and tossed it lightly in his hand.

To others, this damaged emblem was of little use, but for Vinigo, it had brought considerable benefit. By offering prayers and wishes, the hidden divine power within the emblem was channeled, through faith, across the planar rift to Sophie, restoring a portion of her strength.

As the Patron of Petitioners, Sophie’s power grew, and Vinigo’s own gains increased accordingly—though, naturally, much depended on Sophie’s mood.

The infant voidwhale was proof enough.

Although it had struck Vinigo quite hard, he knew its potential was immense. Once fully grown, it would be the equivalent of a ready-made Kirov airship—imagine a whale, armored and weighing several hundred tons, gliding through the sky, unleashing a rain of explosives in a spectacular barrage.

Several hundred tons burdened? The voidwhale itself weighed only about ten tons, but with its innate magic to negate gravity’s pull, it could carry loads dozens of times its own weight. How could Vinigo not be satisfied?

Thanks to the little whale Ramen, Vinigo did not waste much time searching for a ship. He simply procured a small fishing boat near the coast and, harnessing Ramen’s great strength, had it tow them directly toward the target island.

Once in the water, the young voidwhale Ramen was as lively as a tiger in the wild. Vinigo had to shout himself hoarse before the little creature obediently followed the course toward the island.

In the water, the voidwhale’s speed was astonishing. At such speed, Vinigo soon felt seasick, forcing himself to cling to the gunwale and fight down the urge to vomit.

In contrast, young Honey watched the seascape with her wide, sparkling eyes, nibbling fruit ice without the slightest discomfort. This delighted her immensely, and she wasted no time in gleefully mocking Vinigo.

The island drew near.

But just then, Ramen suddenly halted, swinging its tail and skidding sideways, hauling the fishing boat along.

At that very moment, a dark shape burst from beneath the waves with a tremendous crash, smashing down where the boat had been moments before.

A giant shark!

“Well now!” Vinigo laughed. He had no intention of letting Ramen risk fighting a shark more than twice its size. Better to handle this himself.

He leapt onto Ramen’s back and unfastened the harness. Ramen obligingly arched its body, tossing the harness—along with four large packs and the mechanical wooden horse—back onto the boat.

Sophie remained still, simply reaching out to steady the heavy harness and tying it down with a rope from her pack. As for Honey, she showed not a trace of fear, only curiosity about the little whale and the great shark.

The battle began!

“All praise to you, O Great and Magnificent One, who answers the prayers of the faithful. I beseech you—let my enemies know fear!” Vinigo prayed softly.

“One day only…” Sophie’s light laughter echoed faintly in his mind.

The giant shark lunged from the water, jaws agape, aiming for Ramen. It was met by the giant axe Vinigo swung with both hands.

Character selection complete, analysis finished… reconstructing. Level 18 Viking, ready!

In the FFTA system, the Seeq-exclusive Viking was a balanced class; they could wield lightning and tidal waves against foes, though their magic was not especially strong—what set them apart was their proficiency with overwhelmingly powerful heavy weapons. Ironically, this class also possessed the strongest lightning spell of all races—Giga Thunder!

Unfortunately, Vinigo’s repertoire of seafaring roles was limited. At his current level, a Viking was the most practical choice. So, before departure, he’d readied his gear on the fishing boat: a two-handed axe, a horned helmet, and a shark fin attachment for his back. When the giant shark appeared, he’d donned them all, ready for a fierce encounter.

You think I’m helpless in a sea battle? Vinigo smirked coldly, eyeing the churning shark below.