Chapter 94: The Young Fox of the Grim Severance of Heaven’s Might

Venigo’s eyes lit up. He had been waiting for the moment his opponent touched down.

Though the sky-beasts were agile, keeping such a burly warrior as Tyrant Maru dancing in the air consumed far more mana draughts than Venigo’s own default form. Venigo could replenish himself in midair, of course, but if he could avoid revealing a hidden card before the enemy, he would rather do so.

Watching the griffins land, Venigo dropped like a falling star. His target was their leader.

The one wielding the greatsword.

“A greeting... Thunder-Sunder Slash!”

Venigo leaped in and brought his blade down. Though the sword in his hand looked slender, it struck the other’s greatsword without so much as a scratch.

The poison fish’s own material was excellent enough, but the Tyrant Maru template seemed to strengthen weapons as well. After all, that man had been a sword master who slew demons and monsters with a human body.

“Who are you!” the greatsword warrior leader cried as he sprang down from his griffin.

“Prism Manor, Tyrant...” Venigo gave a false name without the slightest guilt.

“Inferno Brotherhood, Sabertooth.” The greatsword warrior raised his sword in greeting.

Venigo returned the gesture with a Tyrant Maru-style samurai salute. They met each other’s gaze, then struck at once.

Whirlwind Thunder-Sunder!

With a fierce flick of his blade, Venigo sent forth a savage blade aura that coiled into a whirlwind and howled toward his foe. Sabertooth bellowed and brought his greatsword down in a swift slash; his speed was in no way inferior to Venigo’s.

Any opponent who could swing such a heavy greatsword as though it were a shortsword would be a difficult one indeed.

Venigo had not expected to win in a single blow. Seeing the other shatter his blade aura, he merely smiled and swung again: Whirlwind Thunder-Sunder!

One blade aura after another came surging in. As he fought, Venigo watched the battlefield around him. His men were locked in fierce combat with the mutant devotees of the Sheep-Call Church. Clearly, though outnumbered, his side had the advantage in morale. Sophie and the swordsmanship instructors from Tempest Castle led the charge, and as the spearhead they drove the young mercenaries of Prism through the enemy ranks with such ferocity that it was as though they moved through empty air.

From another direction, Jeru roared aloud, his pair of steel hand-axes in his grip whirling like wagon wheels as he thundered straight into the enemy. Behind him came Yuri, stern-faced and relentless, rushing forward in sudden bursts to stab at vital points with his longsword. In an instant, three bloody holes would pierce the target’s throat, heart, and brow.

Even when a stronger foe managed to block one or two strikes, the third would often finish them.

As for Iru, the somewhat dim and ugly youth wore heavy iron armor and swung an iron club as thick as a man’s arm, flailing about at random. Yet under his astonishing strength, the iron staff studded with spikes could smash a person into pulp with ease, and even a glancing blow would tear a huge, mangled wound across flesh and bone.

“You... you dare look down on me like this!” Sabertooth bellowed in fury when he saw Venigo’s attention wander.

A brilliant red glow suddenly erupted from the greatsword in his hands, as though molten lava had flared to life again, flashing from dim crimson to blazing brightness in an instant.

Venigo was overjoyed. Watching the other swing down at him, he drew a deep breath, as though he were casting himself forward as well, and leaned in with all his strength to unleash his famed blade.

Heaven-Piercing Despair Slash!

Poison fish streaked out in a blaze of blinding white to meet the onrushing inferno. The two lights collided with a crisp crack.

The greatsword... had broken?

Sabertooth was plainly stunned. His greatsword was a magical weapon bought for five hundred gold coins; he had never imagined it could be shattered by such a thin and apparently far more brittle blade.

And shattered into several pieces, at that! It made no sense!

But Heaven-Piercing Despair Slash was precisely a finishing blade meant to smash enemy weapons to pieces.

While the other was still reeling in shock, Venigo darted in before him, lifted his sword, brought it down in a heavy cut, then followed with a gale-bringing crescent slash... three moves in rapid succession, leaving the man no chance to counter as he was hooked up off his feet and hurled crashing to the ground.

“Too heavy... I didn’t launch him.” Venigo said in disappointment.

He picked up the fragments of the greatsword and stuffed them into his pack, then looked up.

High above, Little Wolf Princess’s furious charge had grown even more savage. With her strength clearly increased, even her wolf-spider claws seemed unable to withstand such brutal use, crying out in protest over and over.

But her enemies were faring even worse.

There were no strong foes on Sophie’s side. After a brief rampage, Sophie and the two swordsmanship instructors eased off and held the line at the rear, watching the young mercenaries’ results.

Jeru was still shouting and fighting with wild abandon, paying no heed to the mercenaries behind him. Only Yuri and Iru could keep pace with his rhythm; everyone else had become mere spectators, following behind with cheers and encouragement.

“Yuri, take half the men and circle around behind them,” Venigo shouted. “Against little thieves like these, you must swallow them whole! Anyone who throws down their weapon will live!”

“Yes!” Iru’s booming voice rolled across the field like a lion’s roar. With a mighty swing of his club, he sent several enemies flying, then bellowed, “Anyone who throws down their weapon will live!”

That astonishing volume caused even the most fanatical believer in the Sheep-Call Church to hesitate. Before long, many enemies raised their hands over their heads, dropped their weapons, and knelt on the ground.

“Iru’s really good,” Venigo praised. He shifted slightly to evade a sneak attack from a Sheep-Call devotee, then turned and cleaved the man cleanly in two at the waist.

From afar, a Sheep-Call elder raised his staff high and hurled a blazing fireball toward Venigo. Venigo smiled silently and flicked his body, whipping the flask on his belt out hard.

The flask strike was a secret technique that could rebound ranged attacks.

The elder of the Sheep-Call Church was instantly blasted away by his own fireball. Venigo slowly held his blade horizontally before him and stepped forward. Suddenly, the blade’s light burst forth, rolling toward the enemy ranks like waves of snow-bright brilliance.

Heaven-Piercing God-Sealing Slash!

The already shattered enemy formation was then torn to pieces by Venigo’s sixteen consecutive ferocious cuts. They fought each for themselves, and one by one were surrounded and annihilated by the mercenaries of Prism.

Unless they surrendered, they died.

In less than half an hour, there was not a single standing member of the Sheep-Call Church or the Inferno Brotherhood left on either side of the road.

“Yuri, handle the cleanup. Akana, you go too,” Venigo said with a wave. “Also, gather all the weapons and armor here.”

The smith Leitch could derive corresponding forging techniques from destroyed weapons, so Venigo intended to borrow that power and replicate the greatsword used by Sabertooth. As for the other broken weapons and armor fragments... they could also be purified into fundamental elements through the smith’s special ability and used to forge weapons.

That night at camp, Venigo took out his miniature furnace and, using the smith Leitch template infused with divine power, forged a Sabertooth greatsword and six other weapons of differing designs.

The Sabertooth greatsword was prepared for Iru. It had sufficient weight and possessed the traits of Swift and Flame, perfectly compensating for Iru’s weaknesses.

As for the other six weapons, they were for Venigo himself. Different weapons, different role builds, different uses.

Icewind Plateau, Archer Castle

“That... concludes our journey’s observations,” Venigo said, bowing deeply and stepping back before lifting his head to look up at Sir Scamon on the high seat.

The man known as the kingdom’s finest archer.

“Thank you for your efforts regarding the winter troubles,” Sir Scamon said as he slowly rose. He was extraordinarily tall, with long, powerful arms; his voice was slow, yet steadfast as ice.

“Also, among the convoy is the thirty-six strongbows I prepared, called Iron-Cleaver Bows, unenchanted as yet. Please inspect and receive them,” Venigo added.

“I understand.” The chief archer nodded. “I have already discussed it with Lord Newton. One of his students will enchant this batch of bows. I hear the synchronized longbow was your inspiration as well.”

“Yes. Inspired by the Sheep-Calling Church’s synchronized staff summoning, I copied that magic array. It seems to work quite well,” Venigo replied. “Then, as previously agreed, please convert the payment into materials and supply me with the ore and magical resources native to this region.”

Sir Scamon waved a hand impatiently. “Speak of these matters to my secretary. If there is nothing else, you may leave.”

Venigo took two steps back and turned to go, when he suddenly heard Sir Scamon say behind him, “Young man, do you have time?”

Venigo nodded.

“The Marza people seem to be rather active lately. Go and find out why they’re so excited,” Sir Scamon said. “Calm them down a bit. You understand what I mean?”

“Only dead Marza people are good Marza people?” Venigo said with a smile.

“Only dead Marza people are good Marza people? Not bad. I like that joke,” Sir Scamon said with a dry chuckle.

“You really are a thousand-year-old block of ice,” Venigo muttered.

Before Scamon could hear him clearly, Venigo quickly left the castle and returned to the small town outside its walls.

“How did it go?” Sophie asked as soon as Venigo entered.

“Everything went smoothly. We’ll have enough materials soon,” Venigo said with a smile. “I’m thinking of selecting a group of young people first and training them up as a seed batch. Have you got anyone in mind?”

Sophie nodded. Among this band of young mercenaries, there were quite a few whom she could be said to have trained herself.

“Older mercenaries aren’t useless either. Find someone with plenty of adventuring experience, or someone articulate, and have them do clerical work; that wouldn’t be bad,” Venigo said. “Oh, by the way, are they resistant to gene-modification injections?”

A good question, wasn’t it?