Alwin looked at the remaining cultivators that stood in his way. From five, he had managed to reduce their numbers down to three. Just ignore the fact it took half of his mana reserves to do that.

  "Stand back, young masters," the lightning cultivator said as electricity crackled down his blade.

  "Of course," Huang Jian said without even sparing a second glance. "Do you really expect us to sully ourselves with such pitiful creatures?"

  "The elders will hear of this," Hong Jian threatened. "An elite squadron allowing three measly mongrels to slip past their guard. What a disgrace!"

  The lightning cultivator bowed his head in deference. "I agree, young masters. Once the intruder has been dealt with, I am yours to punish as you see fit, young masters."

  With that final scoff, the two young masters turned on their heels and sauntered off back into their wooden hut. They mumbled and grumbled under their breath before the door slammed shut.

  "You'll pay for this, beast," the lightning cultivator growled, knuckles whitening around the hilt of his sparking blade.

  He sprinted toward Alwin leaving behind a trail of lightning in his wake. Wait, he recognized that skill. It was Lightning Legs. But, he moved slower than Gus even before his skill had evolved into Lightning Paws.

  It had been a while since Alwin had a battle against a human. It had been even longer since his fight against Gary Stew. That man was inches away from death the last time they fought, but he got away thanks to those lousy young masters. Alwin didn't have time to deal with cannon fodder. He needed to end this quick. But at the same time conserve mana.

  Thus, he did the smartest thing he could think of.

  Alwin ran away.

  "Get back here!" the man shouted, picking up speed, sparks flickering across the ground with each step.

  However, there was no way he could outrun someone with Lightning Legs. But, Alwin was one some might call a cheater—to those more intellectually inclined, he was regarded as an out-of-the-boxer.

  Spirit Feet that he had silently casted laid themselves as flat on the ground as possible. When the cultivator came within reach, they sprang up and performed the most dastardly and dirty trick possible. Tripping.

  The cultivator stumbled over the Spirit Feet. His arms flailed as he attempted to regain balance. But, Alwin had predicted this. That's why a few feet—the measurement unit—in front of the Spirit Feet, Spirit Hands were lying in ambush.

  They latched onto the man's ankles like claws, sending him sprawling to the floor. His chin slammed against the floor, breaking off some of his teeth and causing a massive gash across his cheek.

  For a cultivator who managed to withstand Alwin's onslaught of Blasts, the man was pretty weak. Alwin had backup after backup plans prepared, because who gets defeated by tripping? What a pathetic display.

  Wait, did that mean Alwin's Blasts were weak because the cultivator managed to stop them?

  Alwin hopped up to inspect the fallen cultivator, trying to find a reason that would show that the little slime boy was in fact not weak. There had to be a special reason that the cultivator had managed to defend against his flood of Blasts.

  Yellow robe. Well-sharpened sword with static jumping out. A pale face contrasted by bright red droplets. Alwin could only come to a single conclusion. The man had exhausted all of his energy to defend against the wave. That's why his companion fell and how he fell to a couple of feet and hands.

  That might also explain why when he tried to push himself off the floor, his arms trembled, only for him to collapse and have a delicious helping of grass. There wasn't anything pinning him down other than gravity.

  The Spirit Hands were high-fiving themselves a job well done, while the Spirit Feet were low-fiving.

  What a pitiful display.

  Alwin would reward the man with an honorable death.

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  He hopped backward and prepared his skill. Two orbs, one black and one white, appeared in front of him. They spiraled around each other headed toward the cultivator. Just before contact, the Spirit Hands and Spirit Feet dismissed themselves.

  Then a brilliant Yin-Yang symbol exploded onto the scene, engulfing the cultivator, and killing him.

  "Yin-Yang Blast."

  Now to deal with the young masters.

  But, just when he started hopping toward their hut, a deafening crunch echoed out from behind him. It was like the sound of dry twigs being snapped except on a grander scale.

  Alwin whipped his body. An opening within Uchronia's Great Barrier Leaf. The cultivators had broken through!

  He wasn't going to let anything happen to her. Without a second thought—or even a first for that matter—a bright light engulfed him as a flaming chitinous shell sprouted over his gooey body. Even if it meant giving up control, this was the fastest way to get to her.

  Goodbye Alwin. Hello Winal.

  Even without a full production line in place, multiple Spirit Hands and Fire Blasts snapped into existence.

  "Mix!" Winal yelled.

  The spells surged toward each other midair, colliding in a fiery detonation. From the blaze emerged multiple Flaming Spirit Hands. Several pairs latched onto Winal's body while one carefully wrapped itself around the cocoon that held Cooper Trooper.

  Good thing, the Spirit Hands had the foresight of surrounding the outermost layer with Fire Resistant gear.

  Flaming Spirit Hands blazed beneath him, erupting like thrusters as Winal achieved lift-off. Fire trailed in his wake, each burst propelling him faster. His mandibles snapped open and shut as raging fires rippled across his exoskeleton.

  Below, the enemy cultivators hammered harder against Uchronia’s defenses, widening the breach with terrifying speed.

  Deep within, the original Uchronia was preparing a chant. However, the second one had grown deathly pale. She was no longer green with health as if all the nutrients had been siphoned from her body.

  Sustaining Great Barrier Leaf must've been too much even for the defense specialist version of Uchronia.

  "Good luck," the second Uchronia muttered before collapsing.

  Her body faded into flickering particles, taking with it the last shield protecting Uchronia. The hemisphere of leaves crumbled to dust, scattering like ash in the wind.

  Uchronia was now left in the open. Blades rushed toward her. Half blazed with fire—Flaming Saber—others crackled with electricity—Lightning Blade.

  She froze, lips no longer moving. Her eyes widened, pupils trembling as reality crashed down around her. Nowhere to run. No room to perform an acrobatics routine. No time to complete her chant.

  Only death awaited her.

  Then, Winal swooped in.

  He crashed into cultivators with blistering speed. Flames searing flesh, mandibles chomping into bone—Fire Bite.

  Those in yellow robes wailed out in piercing screams, while red-robed fools grunted in discomfort. It seemed that their robes had resistance enchanted into them. Still, that wasn't enough to stop the force of a very determined Fire Soldier Ant flying at the speed of a homemade jet engine.

  He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He had to kill them all.

  Forcing his way through the chaos, he snapped his mandibles open, knocking bodies out of the way. He saw Uchronia. Her shivering, fear-coated form brought him back to his senses.

  Winal began to slow down. The flames on his mandibles faded into dying embers. With a gentle touch, he clamped down on Uchronia's pot. The Flaming Spirit Hands aimed downwards, firing flames at max power.

  They launched skyward, G-forces crushing their frame as they climbed. Just barely enough, just fast enough to overcome the upraised blades of the cultivators on the other edge of the encirclement.

  All of that happened in a blink.

  Uchronia hadn’t even processed what had just happened until she was high in the sky, held in the flaming mandibles of Winal.

  "T-thanks," she blurted out, obviously still stunned by events.

  Winal’s burning heart blazed. The flames all over his exoskeleton flared in excitement. He was over the moon. But, his mind still had much room to recover after being shattered earlier.

  "You have the egg!" Uchronia shouted, her brain finally catching up with her eyes.

  The words hit like lightning. Her joy turned to horror in an instant. As Winal’s flames threatened to boil the egg alive.

  "Stop! Stop! Stop! Put me and the egg down. We can't risk burning it."

  Winal obeyed without hesitation.

  The Flaming Spirit Hands performed an about-turn, firing off flames to slow their approach. They then shifted to controlled bursts to slow their descent until Uchronia was once again reunited with the Earth.

  The once raging red Flaming Spirit Hands had faded to a dull and translucent. They were all out of fuel. Giving a farewell salute, they disappeared, ready to be called upon by Winal whenever he needed them again.

  With her own Spirit Hands, Uchronia grabbed the cocoon off Winal's back and placed it on the ground. She peeled back the multiple protective layers as if Cooper Trooper was an onion.

  A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw that the egg was safe and sound with nary a scratch on his glossy shell.

  "Okay, the egg is safe. Grab Gus and let's get out of here."

  Winal, still struggling to speak, simply nodded.

  He was going to make Uchronia proud of him. No matter the cost.