When Winal came to, the world was rocking beneath him. Wood creaked. Iron bars rattled. He was trapped inside a cage, jostled about as the cart carrying him met bump after bump. His head ached and blood dribbled down from the crack in his fiery shell.

  Across from him, in a second cage was Gus. The yellow Fluffpaw was unconscious, sitting in a growing pool of red. Blood continued to ooze out of the wound that Gary Stew had inflicted. His breath came in heavy and ragged, barely clinging to life.

  He needed to do something fast to save his friend, but what? Winal wasn't good at this kind of stuff. He was just an incompetent fool who disappointed Uchronia and got both himself and Gus captured. He had to give control to someone who could actually get them out of this situation.

  Light consumed his body as his flaming chitinous shell rescinded. Warmth began to recede as a cool breeze swept through. Feathers sprouted, talons flexed, and beak clicked as Niwla the Cold Turkey gained control of the main body.

  Now that he was finally back in the pilot's seat, he'd show both Alwin and Winal how to do things the serious way. First, he needed to assess the situation.

  They were in some sort of caravan cart pulled by two horses. Riding each horse were cultivators. One was dressed in yellow robes, while the other wore red.

  Within the cart, other than them, was a bunch of ornate furniture. These were presumably the young masters' possessions, given the exquisite nature of the items. In a small section of the cart were the rest of the other cultivators' items. It seemed that they were only permitted to bring tents and some crates.

  Every bump on the road rocked the furniture, knocking them into their neighbors. Ripples were forced throughout Gus' body. Small groans escaped his lips, while yells by the young masters could be heard outside.

  "If you break anything because of your hopeless riding it's coming out of your Spirit Stone allowance!" one of them yelled.

  They both sounded similar and without seeing their robes, Niwla couldn't tell them apart.

  Time was ticking. It was a miracle Gary Stew didn't slaughter them right then and there. He probably wanted to keep them as fresh as possible. That sick and sadistic madman.

  Niwla wasn't faring any better than Gus. The damage Winal sustained had transferred over to him as well. His feathered skull was cracked open, cool blood leaking out. Even thinking caused his already throbbing headache to split his mind further apart. But this was something only he could do.

  Alwin's unconventionalness was too much of a wild card in a situation this dire. It was all up to Niwla now.

  Busting out of the cages was one thing, escaping together with Gus was a whole other beast that would devour them whole—especially with their current conditions.

  He could carry Gus, but he doubted he could get far. Who knew how many cultivators there were escorting them the cart back to wherever they were going? Plus Gary Stew was no doubt nearby, along with the two young masters, Huang Jian and Hong Jian. They may seem like incompetent buffoons, but surely they must have some sort of skill behind them. They were young masters after all.

  If only he could heal both of their injuries. Darn it. This was one of the consequences of going all in on offensive skills. Where were the Healing Pills when they needed it?

  Another surge of pain ripped through his head. More blood leaked out, dripping down his beak. He stumbled over onto the cold hard cage floor, vision swimming in blood. However, through all of that pain, Niwla had an epiphany.

  He was too weak to push himself off the floor, but that was okay. With all the strength he could muster, Niwla scooched himself toward the edge of the cage. Timing with the next bump, Niwla Silent Casted a pair of Spirit Hands. They materialized themselves outside of his barred jail.

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  The Spirit Hands laid low, making sure the coast was clear before enacting Niwla's plan. They floated low to the ground, keeping themselves flushed against the various furniture as they inched themselves toward Gus.

  While the Spirit Hands were too large to squeeze through the grills, fortunately for them, Gus was pressed up against the bars of his cage. Yellow fur poked in between the spaces, while red flowed down the metal rods.

  They reached in and began digging into his blood-soaked fur. If Niwla's hunch was right, this should take care of their biggest problem.

  From the fluffiness emerged a crisp and lightly golden top that gave way to a tender and moist interior. It was a muffin.

  Niwla had just figured out one of the world's many mysteries—where Gus kept getting all of those darn muffins.

  The young FluffPaw had stored them within the depths of his own furry self, producing them at random times whenever the urge hit. Gus' nose began to twitch and his tongue dipped out licking the air. Yet, the monster was still unconscious.

  That just showed the severity of his injuries when Gus could resist the irresistible allure of his favorite baked treat.

  Through Niwla's blurred vision, he realized that this plan wasn't as simple as he thought it was. The muffin had chocolate sprinkles as toppings. It was far from what they needed right now.

  The Spirit Hands continued to dig through the snack hole that was Gus. Muffins began to pile up around his cage. Various colors and sizes with different flavoring toppings greeted his eyes. Blueberry, double chocolate chip, apple crumble, banana nut, cinnamon sugar, orange zest.

  With every bump, the young masters yelled out at the driver in anger. It was fortunate as it disguised the mound of muffins bouncing around the cart.

  Niwla had no energy to ponder the physical logistics of how Gus managed to store that many muffins. The physical volume they took up was larger than the FluffPaw himself.

  Finally, the Spirit Hands' efforts were rewarded. Nestled amongst the pastries was the object of his desire. A muffin with red marble-like pieces poking through its golden brown top.

  Healing Pills.

  If he had the energy he would have jumped up in joy. Thank you Uchronia for being such an overachieving student and self-studying Pill Refinement a year early. Thank you Gus for being so adamant that you managed to somehow convince Uchronia to give you a batch of Pills to be baked into some muffins. Also, thank you Gus for being weird enough to do something like that.

  Judging by the size and coloration of the Healing Pills, those looked like the Medium Healing Pills that Uchronia had refined. From what he remembered about Lapis' warnings, these Pills weren't perfect.

  While it would help heal physical wounds, they still contained residual impurities due to inexperience. It essentially acted as a poison, causing further stress on their bodies. However, that was the least of their concerns right now.

  The Spirit Hands began digging into the muffin, extracting the Healing Pills from the baked goods. Small fluffy crumbs remained attached to the pills.

  Given the state they were in, Niwla took one of the pills for himself and passed the rest to Gus. The moment the Spirit Hands grew near, Gus' nose began to twitch. Even in his injured and unconscious state, he showed unbridled eagerness to eat. He lunged forward and swallowed the multiple pills—including the hand that fed him.

  The Medium Healing Pill worked its magic. The crack that exposed his bird brain began to close up. Feathers that had been tattered around the area began to regrow, taking their original pristine white form. His head no longer felt like it was exploding. Throbbing pain had turned to a dull ache. His vision no longer cloudy and blurry, but once again sharp and clear. The crippling feeling of exhaustion faded away.

  It was even more miraculous for Gus.

  The large gaping wound down his center stitched itself up. Flaps of skin shrunk and folded together. Fur sprouted from the bald patch until the once gruesome sight returned to normal. All of the other scratches that he had sustained sealed up in a matter of seconds.

  Gus was as good as new.

  His eyes shot open, full of energy. Gus was about to yell in delight when Niwla shot an Ice Arrow through the bars, straight into his mouth. It shut him up as he happily munched away on the frozen treat.

  Niwla brought a feather to his beak and told Gus to keep quiet. The FluffPaw nodded his head in agreement before his eyebrow furrowed up.

  He leaned in close and whispered, "Who are you?"

  Right. Gus was the only one who wasn't in the Training Grounds Classroom when Niwla introduced himself.

  Niwla opened his beak to respond only to freeze. Something wasn’t right.

  They had stopped moving.

  A voice, cold and calm, purred next to them.

  “You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”