Panic was coursing through Niwla's veins. Each spin of the frying pan sent a wave of fear crashing through him. His face dripped with sweat. His feathers stiffened up. His talons dug into the ground.

Why was Gary Stew here, confronting him just as he was about to make his grand escape? How did he even track him down?

"Running away isn't very nice, you know. I'm already sizzling away deep in boiling oil, and now you're going to try and splash it everywhere? And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"What are you doing here?" Niwla blurted out.

"Stopping my delicious little ingredient from escaping. Sure, I won't get in trouble because I'm not in charge of looking after the ingredients, but then it'd mean even more waiting before I can make a dish and get the hell out of this god forsaken place." Gary Stew scraped his knife against the back of the frying pan. "Plus, I don't want to lose my one and only confidant."

"How did you know I was here?"

"It's not unusual for a Chef to keep track of his ingredients now, is it?"

"That doesn't explain anything."

"As a gesture of goodwill and me hoping you'll make my therapy sessions more interesting, let's just say your little eyeball spying spell isn't as discreet as you might've thought it was."

The Ice Spies were caught? How? Sure, they were a crude spell made with what little scraps of magical knowledge and theory that Alwin had acquired, but were they truly that obvious? And how did Gary Stew even track it back to him? Unless... he was bluffing.

"What are you talking about?"

"Playing coy? Those little roly-polies had your scent all over them. You know, lying gives you bad karma, right?"

Gary Stew really wasn't bluffing. Whatever. Now's the time to fight. Just one last obstacle before he could return to Tentative Camp. Speaking of Tentative Camp, where was Uchronia and Gus? Don't tell him that Gus failed to locate Uchronia and got distracted eating berries or something ridiculous like that.

His voice turned dangerously silky as he twirled his knife. "Now be a good little birdie and come back with me."

Gary Stew sauntered forward. The spice bottles around his waist clinking rhythmically, a jingle of musical death ringing with every step.

Niwla analyzed the situation in front of him. Gary Stew was underestimating him. Why else would he be taking his own sweet time? This was good. He could take advantage of this. One fell swoop to take him down, just like with the watchtower guards.

Head. Heart. Arms. Legs.

Six targets to keep track of. Six Ice Arrows to shoot. Six shimmering icicles crystallized in front of him, rocketing forward toward Gary Stew.

Yet, the man remained unfazed. He still had that smirk on his face.

A blur of silver and black flashed across Gary Stew's body. The icicles were shattered in an instant, exploding into a trail of dust which drifted down to the ground.

How? Those were Ice Arrows made with Ice Essence, and he swatted them out of the air like flies. This had just gone from bad to worse.

Then, Gary Stew paused in his tracks. He brought the frying pan to his face and spun it around. What was he doing?

That smirk started to disappear. The curve of his lips did a 180, until Gary Stew was now frowning with anger. When he stopped spinning the frying pan, Niwla understood why.

Three shallow indentations blemished the polished black surface. Three tiny mounds where the Ice Arrows had struck. At least that was something. A couple hundred more Ice Arrows and Gary Stew wouldn't have a pan anymore. That's if he allowed Niwla the time and energy for that. The same couldn't be said about his knife. Its metal frame glowed under the roaring flame of the Crimson Gold Sect's defenses, completely undamaged.

"How dare you damage my frying pan?" Gary Stew shouted. "Do you know how hard I worked to get the enchantments right? I don't care what those two young blunders say. You're dead meat."

With a violent twist of his arm, Gary Stew hurled his frying pan at Niwla. "Pan Toss!"

It spun in the air, flying straight at him, cutting through the air. At the same time, Gary Stew rushed forward, unscrewing the caps of the spice bottles with a single flick of his wrist.

Niwla sidestepped out of the way, dodging the spinning disc. It struck the gate behind, ringing loudly with a metallic clang before it fell to the ground.

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In the same breath, Gary Stew dipped his knife into the bottles. The silver reflective surface became coated with all sorts of different colored spices. Reds, greens, and browns mixed together on the blade. Then, eyes blazing with rage, he raised the spice-coated blade high and plunged it down on Niwla.

"All Spice Slash!"

A vertical line of chopped-up spices came down on Niwla, cleaving the air apart with its overwhelming aroma. Soon, it would cleave him.

Niwla jumped out of the way, flapping his wings in a panic. His rotund body wasn't the most dexterous. The attack clipped his foot, pain shooting up his leg. He tumbled onto the ground, dirt clinging to his feathers. With great haste, he picked himself up with his good foot and a strained grunt, talons digging into the ground for leverage.

He looked up to find Gary Stew about to deliver another All Spice Slash. His other hand was extended, palm open. There wasn't even time to ponder what that man was doing, let alone inspect his damaged foot.

Instinct took control. With his one good leg, he leaped to the side. Not to the left, but to the right. A line of spices gave the feathers on the side of his body a free trim. A blur of black sailed past the spiced-up slash. It was the frying pan. Had he jumped to the other side, it would've landed on the back of his head and not into Gary Stew's hand.

There was no time to analyze and come up with a battle plan. Niwla conceded his defeat, but he wasn't going to go out without a fight.

Niwla extended his wings, blue mist seeping out of his body.

"Withdrawal!" he shouted, as he fanned the cold haze toward Gary Stew.

"Weak."

He gave a casual swing of his frying pan.

"Air Fry."

The area in front of him warmed up. A gust of hot air rushed forward, enveloping the mist. Wavy lines of rippling heat interacted with the fog. Its cool blue hue paled, then dispersed entirely, scattering away as easily as autumn leaves on the wind.

Gary Stew didn't stop there. He removed the bottles from his belt and held them between his fingers. With a flick of his wrist, a shower of spice polluted the air. Immediately, Gary Stew leaped upwards, right into the spices. He disappeared within a colorful cloud amongst the otherwise black backdrop of darkness.

The colorful cloud began to thin. They weren't vanishing. Instead, the multitude of spices were concentrating on Gary Stew's knife.

His All Spice Slash was just a layer around the blade. Now, there was more spice than metal. It took the form of a knife, but was easily three times bigger and still growing.

Niwla had one last trick up his sleeve.

Only a fool wouldn't take advantage of this situation—catch him off guard while he's busy preparing an attack. Niwla launched more Ice Arrows straight at Gary Stew.

The icicles pierced through the spice cloud. But, what came next shocked Niwla straight to his Core. The Ice Arrows broke instantly, shredded down to fine flakes. They joined the rest of the spices, accumulating themselves with Gary Stew's knife.

Somehow, he had empowered his opponent even further.

All of the spices had been gathered. A chef knife five times bigger than normal and many times deadlier was in the palm of Gary Stew's hand.

"Condensed Seasoning Slash!"

He brought the colossal knife down on Niwla. It was too fast. He told his legs to move, but the signals were still travelling through his body. By the time it reached his feet, his life would be forfeit.

As his life flashed before his eyes, a voice bellowed out from within the darkness.

"Apprehend those recruits!"

He recognized that voice. It was Commander Cooper.

But it was too late. The knife was an inch away from his body. Gary Stew's face contorted with a devilish smile, licking his lips at the delicacy in front of him.

Then, the knife vanished.

In its place lingered a trail of lightning that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Before his eyes could even process what had just happened, his legs finally received the message. Niwla leaped to the side, avoiding the non-existent attack, only to slam into something hard—something ceramic.

Stunned, he turned his head upwards to find a distraught Uchronia standing over him. He had bumped into her pot. In her leaves was something even more shocking than the Crimson Gold Sect's electrifying attacks. She was holding Cooper Trooper.

Even more confused now, Niwla looked back at what was supposed to be his deathbed only to find Gary Stew, recovering from the sudden interruption. He too was bewildered about what had just occurred, staring at the now spiceless knife in his hand. That confusion dissipated as the pieces fell into place. At the same time, things were clearing up for Niwla.

The knife disappeared not because the skill failed, but because it had been devoured. Gus had come barreling in at the last second. And he still continued to barrel in without pause as he chomped through the outer walls of the Crimson Gold Sect, disappearing into its interior.

Gary Stew had regained his composure and strode toward Niwla and Uchronia. His eyes locked onto the coveted Cooper Trooper.

"Well, well, well. Is this a special delivery for me?" He licked his lips

"Uchronia!" Niwla gasped. "What are you doing here with Cooper Trooper?"

Before he could even get a reply, the answer announced itself.

His ears hadn't been working, what with imminent death approaching, but now he could clearly hear something within the darkness that surrounded them.

Stomping. A thunderous stampede of feet.

Emerging from the darkness was Commander Cooper in all of his muscle-bird glory. Behind him were the squads under his command: Alpha Wolves, Battle Rams, and Caesar Salads. All of them armed to the teeth with their respective weapons.

Uchronia did it. She had somehow convinced the Captain to unleash an all-out assault on the Crimson Gold Sect. With Niwla's knowledge of its layout, victory was all but guaranteed. Now, he just had to deliver it to the monster in charge.

"Recruits! This is a direct order! Unhand Cooper Trooper and prepare to be court martialed. If you surrender in the next three seconds, I promise you'll receive a reduced sentence," Commander Cooper boomed.

The squads under his care closed in on Niwla and Uchronia. So did Gary Stew. But he was too enamored by the egg to notice the monsters now encircling him.

Uchronia had convinced all troops of Tentative Camp to come to the sect, but she had done it in the worst way possible.

Now, Niwla had to contend with both the humans and the monsters.

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