Chapter 65: The Young Fox of the Reinforcements

A series of crisp, crackling sounds burst forth in rapid succession as Vinego’s toes, carrying the sharp force of a firecracker, struck the monster's body. Its hard scales shattered and scattered in all directions—though tough, the scales were still vulnerable if targeted where they met the flesh. After a whirlwind of extreme rapid kicks, Vinego delivered a straight kick that knocked the monster backwards, immediately following up with a Dragon Cleave Soar—a grand, sweeping backflip with both feet, channeling all his sky-blue energy into a rising kick.

Even the massive, dignified serpent could not withstand such a blow; it was sent sprawling, limbs flailing, and crashed heavily to the ground.

Sophie silently raised her sword, strode forward, and planted her foot on the monster’s head. With all her strength behind her greatsword, she brought it down in a savage arc. Blood sprayed, and with a single stroke, the beast was beheaded.

“Help me out,” Vinego said with a smile, pulling two sharp utility knives from his waist pouch.

In no time at all, they had skinned, bled, and dismantled the monster, stripping it for scales and bones until it was reduced to a pile of materials from another world.

“Hurry up, hurry up,” Hani urged impatiently from the side.

“No need to rush, we still have plenty of time,” Vinego reassured her. “According to the intel—”

“Hani doesn’t care about intel, this is so boring,” Hani complained.

“Here, play with this,” Vinego said, knowing what she wanted. With a sigh, he tossed her a lump of colorful putty—a byproduct of his miscellaneous crafting, meant to be plasticine, though for some reason, he could never get the formula right.

The dignified serpent had not delayed them for long; clearly, the Chiming Sheep cult had underestimated their group’s assault capabilities.

But Vinego did not make that mistake with the Merak team. He knew that squad worked together seamlessly and was thoroughly prepared. Their individual talents might be above average, but together their combined strength was formidable.

Even so, Vinego’s own team was no weaker now: the versatile Vinego, the fiercely offensive Sophie, the masterful controller Hani, and the equally versatile Cait Sith Sharpclaw—whatever the situation, they had an arsenal of strategies at their disposal.

They pressed on, Vinego seated alone atop Ramen’s back, working on his latest craft as they traveled.

Soon, their objective came into sight.

It was an abandoned wilderness camp—a rustic wooden shelter built by hunters for travelers and trappers from the nearby village. The Merak team of four was trapped inside that small cabin.

The cabin was in ruins, its outer planks still showing the charred marks of a fire. Fortunately, the damp air here had prevented the cultists’ crude flames from igniting the hardwood structure.

On the cabin’s pointed roof stood Verany. She drew her bow and, with astonishing marksmanship, loosed a whole quiver of arrows in a heartbeat, killing every nearby high-ranking cultist before nimbly slipping back inside.

An archer’s shots were powerful and far-reaching, but rapid firing put immense strain on the fingers and elbows. If she kept it up at that pace, Verany’s hands would be ruined in less than three quivers.

So she could only appear sporadically, taking out the most dangerous targets each time.

Merak guarded the cabin’s doorway. He now wielded a massive steel shield, and whenever an enemy approached, he sent them flying with a single bash. If he was caught off guard and couldn’t bring the shield to bear, he’d hack out a bloody path with his longsword.

But after more than ten minutes of continuous fighting, Merak’s stamina was nearly spent. He needed brief moments to catch his breath—during those, the priest Jemore would step forward to hold the line, while Yarael, who had been inactive until then, joined in with basic spells to thin the enemy ranks and ease the pressure on Jemore.

Thus, through repetition, the four-person team weathered danger after danger, yet still held their ground.

It seemed they had been locked in this stalemate for quite some time.

At the other end of the path—

“Lethal assault,” Vinego murmured.

Sophie nodded slightly, slinging her greatsword across her back and striding forward. Vinego pressed his palms together, muttering a brief prayer as he began his role construction.

As for Hani, she had already darted ahead on Cait Sith’s back, steering clear of the main battle. She circled to the flank, slipping into hiding to prepare her mischief.

Between Vinego and Merak stood several hundred Chiming Sheep cultists.

This time, the cultists seemed different from before. While the majority were still low-level members with a handful of elites and elders mixed in, their overall strength was noticeably higher.

They were stronger and their skin had become rough and resilient, resembling the scales of some monster. Their speed, reflexes, and strength had all improved far beyond that of ordinary humans.

“To think they’ve reached this level…” Vinego muttered. “But if this is all they’ve got, they’re merely my whetstones. I don’t crave bloodshed, but I can’t say I dislike the thrill of a massacre either…”

He had once been an ordinary person—why, then, did killing now leave him with not even a trace of discomfort?

Vinego didn’t know the answer.

Still, in this situation, a lack of squeamishness about killing was a blessing. He clapped his hands and tugged at the glove on his left hand.

This was one of Robert’s signature moves before a fight. Vinego had found that the closer his attire and gestures matched the character he envisioned, the easier and more efficient the construction became.

Role selected, analysis complete…constructing. First-tier enhancement: offense. Robert Garcia, construction complete!

He boosted his attack power for efficiency—he’d found that enhancing a weakness cost more than strengthening a forte, such as speed or agility, and a second-tier enhancement was far costlier than a single-tier one.

“I’m in a hurry, so all of you, kindly get a little closer…” Vinego chuckled as he rushed forward.

Leaning into a sudden stop, he swept his arm out—a Dragon Strike Fist sent three enemies flying. Though it lacked range, the Dragon Strike Fist packed considerable power and area of effect; even those behind or beside him were caught in its energy field.

With his attack power enhanced, Vinego had gained the ability to kill with a single blow.

The cultists of the Chiming Sheep roared, their eyes blood-red. Clearly, whatever mysterious enhancement they had undergone had strengthened their muscles, but also placed intense strain on their bodies. It might not be obvious in the short term, but even low-intensity fighting would break these bodies down in a year or two.

In a high-intensity battle…they’d be crippled in just a few encounters. But these were zealots drawn from the slums—nothing but cheap fodder in the eyes of the cult.

As many as needed, as often as needed.

Since not even their leaders valued these “materials,” Vinego felt no need for pity or mercy. Dragon Strike Fist, Swift Swallow Hurricane Kick, Dragon Cleave Soar—a series of fast, efficient blows cut through the enemy like boiling water melting snow, shattering their formation with ease.

Yet even so, Vinego was slower than Sophie.

Before her blade, no enemy could stand. Shields were cleaved and sent flying, weapons snapped in two, and those who tried to dodge were swallowed by the sword’s icy brilliance, space itself collapsing around them.

“None can stand before us,” Vinego called out, mockingly repeating the old rallying cry.

Sophie responded with quiet solemnity, clearly finding the knightly slogan much to her taste.

With a sweep of her greatsword, Sophie’s charge gained even more speed. Vinego shook his head and followed with a smile.

At that moment, Hani’s mass terror descended in silence.

Ever since learning that Vinego preferred his enemies to be terrified before he finished them off, Hani had made it a habit: if there was no need to use other divine powers, she would always strike fear into Vinego’s foes.

Fear sometimes made people stronger and sharper, but just as often it made them lose all reason—charging blindly forward, or frozen in place, trembling.

Either outcome was exactly what Vinego wanted.

“Overlord Soaring Roar Fist!”

“It must be the young fox,” Yarael remarked with a soft laugh from inside the cabin.

“I think so—I just caught sight of that sword-wielding girl,” Merak replied, sending another enemy flying with his shield. “She’s grown so quickly, and now she’s already surpassed us in strength.”

“Strange abilities—not magic, nor divine power, but some peculiar transformational skill…” Jemore mused as he tended to Merak’s minor wounds.

“We used to be called the fastest-rising adventuring team,” Yarael added, “but that young fox is even more formidable than we were. Captain, shall we rendezvous?”

Merak nodded lightly. He slung the heavy shield onto his back, took a small round shield from his pack and strapped it to his arm, then raised his sword high and charged out with a shout.

As he did, a transparent mist rose from him, spreading outward—this was the Ranger’s soul blessing, raising the team’s accuracy. Merak had been conserving his strength and faith magic, but now there was no need for restraint.

On the other side, Vinego’s Overlord Soaring Roar Fist ruthlessly blasted open the enemy ranks, mowing down more than a dozen enhanced cultists and clearing a broad path. He and Sophie calmly strode forward, stepping over the blood of their foes until they stood face-to-face with Merak.

We meet again, but I am no longer the powerless young fox I once was.

To end killing with killing.