Finally, Alwin hurled himself off the treetop, screaming his lungs out.

  "GRADES!"

  Most people wait until they hit the ground to start running, but Alwin wasn’t most people. He began running—rolling in his case—as he was falling. Except that didn't make a difference.

  So, he did what any sensible person would do and summoned out his Spirit Hands. They grasped his jiggly body and tossed him toward the clearing with all of their might.

  As he fell with style, another pair of summoned Spirit Hands clamped down hard on the leaning tower of equipment. A third pair began to tango with a couple of Fire Blasts.

  It was Mixing time.

  Fire Blast and Spirit Hands danced around together before colliding in an explosive kiss. From the chaos, a flaming red-hot Spirit Hand emerged.

  It grabbed onto Alwin's body only for him to yelp in pain. The hands were burning him. Right, he wasn’t in his Fire Soldier Ant form. Alwin tried his best to ignore the searing pain, which was impossible. Instead, he screamed his lungs out as flames ejected out of the back of the Spirit Hands, propelling him forward.

  "For my grades!" Alwin shouted yet again, with tears in his eyes, as he came hurtling toward the earth like a screaming comet.

  Gus or Uchronia. Who should he help? The answer was obvious.

  Cooper Trooper, your self-proclaimed godfather is coming to save you.

  Alwin crashed into the ingredients table, splintering the cheap wood. The impact launched Cooper Trooper into the air, but that was all the fun that the baby was going to get.

  His Spirit Hands—the nonflaming kind—soared up into the air and grabbed him. They caressed Cooper Trooper, and whispered sweet nothings in its ear, via sign language.

  Now that they had reclaimed Cooper Trooper, they had to protect him. There was no better way than with a deluge of defensive equipment, courtesy of Uchronia.

  On the behest of Alwin, the Spirit Hands plopped Cooper Trooper onto his head. They then began to work their magic, reorganizing the precarious tower of gear into a thick cocoon of defensive power. Cooper Trooper nestled in its center, safe from any external harm. In the off-center lay the heat crystal to keep the baby warm.

  None of the cultivators had noticed Alwin's grand entrance. Well…most of them.

  The two young masters remained at the makeshift table, having a relaxing tea time, while live entertainment delivered to their doorstep played out in front of them. They were oblivious to the surprise guest. However, the guards by their sides and the tea-pouring disciple had their eyes fixed on the main attraction.

  Alwin.

  Uchronia—both of them—were still under siege. Fire and lightning rained down from all sides by the group of cultivators. The dome of wooden leaves trembled, their edges crisping and blackening, slowly morphing into a dome of burnt carbon.

  Gus was currently taking a beating from Gary Stew's blade of seasoning. Scratches riddled his body and were quickly expanding with every new slice. Licks accompanied every new wound. It was as if he was being delivered a gourmet meal. Except that he was the meal.

  If Alwin didn't step in soon, things were going to go bad real fast.

  Once again a question loomed over him. Should he help Gus by beating Gary Stew to a pulp or assist Uchronia by battling those nasty Crimson Gold Sect members ganging up on a little girl?

  The answer was obvious. It was so obvious that Alwin, Niwla, and possibly Winal—because he didn't really talk much, came to the same conclusion.

  The two young masters.

  It was time to show off the fruits of his labor during that one week of 'bed rest'.

  Within his Core, the mini factory got to work. The DIY freezer was busy freezing mana into Ice mana that would be sculpted into Ice Arrows, but those weren't a priority right now. Instead, most of the hand-power was dedicated to the Spirit Blasts and their variations.

  In order to scale up production, Alwin had to abandon the tried and true method of paper mache. Instead, he now had to rely on clay shells, simply because he didn't know how to mass-produce paper mache. On the bright side, clay is harder than paper, so that meant they’d do more damage—probably.

  The mental hands operated by Winal were digging up mana clay from the bottom of his mana pool. Chunk by chunk they were deposited into pre-crafted clay molds. Other hands slammed them together, before loading them onto a hand-cranked conveyor belt powered by even more mental hands. That was the beginning of his new and improved Spirit Blasts.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Spirit Scatter Blasts followed a similar process. In order for it to qualify as a Spirit Scatter Blast, they needed all of the tiny Spirit Blasts housed within the shell. The solution for creating them was simple. Tiny molds!

  The tiny Spirit Blasts were made just like the regular Spirit Blasts, except tinier. Who knew that in order to scale up production he also had to scale down at the same time?

  Once extracted from their molds, the tiny Spirit Blasts were lodged inside some freshly dug clay. Then the whole bundle was shoved inside the Spirit Scatter Blast mold and off it went onto the conveyor belt, alongside the regular Spirit Blasts.

  The Spirit Burst Blasts followed the same manufacturing method as the Spirit Blast, but after landing on the conveyor belt, they were shipped off to another section. There, a funnel was jammed into a special slot in the clay mold. Liquid mana was stuffed inside of it, till it was filled to the brim. The funnel was removed and the special opening was sealed with some extra mana clay and back onto the conveyor belt they went.

  There was only one last step in the creation process of these various Blasts.

  Firing.

  All of the conveyor belts converged into Alwin’s greatest masterpiece—an oven. It wasn’t just any oven, it was a huge oven.

  Alwin took inspiration from Niwla's giant freezer. Except, he took it to another level. Inside of the giant oven, was another smaller oven. Inside of that smaller oven were several regular-sized ovens.

  Every single blast was filtered into one such oven before all the doors were slammed shut.

  With an oven inside of an oven inside of another over, the firing time would be reduced threefold—probably. It may or may not work that way in real life, but this wasn't real life. This was his Core, so what he says goes. Within reason of course.

  Seconds later, the sounds of multiple ovens dinging at the same time echoed throughout his Core. It was so loud that it would've ruptured his eardrums if his physical body could manifest within his Core—and also if he had eardrums. Slime physiology was hard.

  The over doors were opened, sending a gust of hot air sweeping through his Core, much to the annoyance of Niwla and his freezing. The mental hands now wearing some mental oven mitts retrieved the Blasts. They separated the molds to reveal the new and improved clay-based Blasts. The deadly spheres were placed back onto conveyor belts ready for shipment.

  Down, down, down the belt they traveled toward the edge of his Core. Stationed there were the latest skill delivery systems ready for their maiden voyage. Cannons!

  One by one, another team of tireless mental hands loaded the Blast into the various cannons. When they were all fully loaded, the hands yanked the trigger simultaneously, launching a barrage out of his Core.

  How did the cannons work? Alwin had no idea. That was Winal's department.

  Right now, he was only concerned with one thing.

  "Spirit Blast! Spirit Scatter Blast! Spirit Burst Blast!"

  Multiple Blasts materialized right in front of him—more than what he had expected. Blast after blast continued to manifest as the factories and cannons worked overtime to supply the much-needed demand.

  Finally, the first round of Blasts had finished materializing. They launched forward, straight toward the two young masters.

  A flood of glowing blue balls rushed toward Huang Jian and Hong Jian, but the pampered duo remained blissfully unaware of their impending doom. Unfortunately, the two guards and their little tea servants were not.

  "Young masters, stand back!" the guards shouted in unison.

  They stepped forward and raised their swords. Together they plunged their blades into the ground.

  "Crimson Gold Sect Fusion Technique: Lightning Flame Barrier!"

  Fire erupted from one sword while electricity crackled from the other. A dome of flaming lightning engulfed the four of them.

  "Wait, let me in!" the tea servant pleaded.

  He banged against the barrier only to yell in pain. His hands scorched from the fire, while his hair stood on ends as electricity took a detour through his body. When he turned back to find the Blasts inches away from him, he ignored the pain and continued banging against the Lightning Flame Barrier.

  The flood of Blasts collided against the tea servant, squishing his body against the dome. The Blasts consumed him, not even Alwin could see him against the torrential flood of spells.

  Spirit Blasts pelted his body, while Spirit Scatter Blasts unleashed tiny blasts of their own. Spirit Burst Blasts erupted into raw liquid mana which seared one side of his body. The other side was torched by fire and electricity.

  His body was nothing but a meat shield that lasted for less than a second. Screams dying out as fast as himself.

  Eventually, the sheer volume of blue balls obscured Alwin's vision of the Lightning Flame Barrier. Only the deafening sounds of Blasts rupturing could be heard.

  That was when he ceased production inside of his Core.

  As the Blasts died down, the still-standing Lightning Flame Barrier revealed itself. Lightning sparked around the edges only to be licked up by blazing flames. In front of it, lay the unrecognizable remains of the tea servant.

  Not even bones were left after the pummeling he endured. Just fine white powder that flew off into the wind. Only his robe, a dull yellow, remained. A small splatter of blood dyed it red. Even in death, he made himself known as a member of the Crimson Gold Sect.

  Drats! Why didn't that work?

  Also, could he even absorb his Essence when there wasn't much left of him? He'd find out later.

  It was time to start up production again, but Alwin's commands were overruled by Niwla.

  "Either you scale down or take a break. We've already used up over half of our available mana with that one attack," Niwla said.

  Double drats!

  The battle had just started and he was already halfway dry. Now, where were those Mana Pills?

  Oh, that's right. Milvus didn't give them any this time. Or maybe he did but he just missed out on that part of the briefing.

  Alwin's ruminations were cut short as the Lightning Flame Barrier began to dissipate. The burning blaze and sparking electricity faded away leaving only a scorched ring of grass where the barrier had been erected.

  The two guards' swords were still plunged into the ground. The one wielding lightning yanked his free and leveled it directly at Alwin. However, the other guard began to cough out blood, before he collapsed onto the floor.

  Yes!

  Finally, something was going his way.