Oliver forced himself to nod.
"Yes," he said. "Very lucky, right?
The cave was collapsing, the beast was exploding, very dangerous.
You should not go in. I do not recommend it."
The masked leader did not bother replying.
His gaze moved past Oliver to the half-collapsed cavern, to the drifting dust and falling stones.
"Did you two hear that?" he said lightly. "Failing to kill a wounded cat, and even letting two rats escape. Pathetic."
The words were not loud, but they carried clearly across the valley.
He raised his right hand and pointed lazily at the shattered cliff.
The valley trembled. Stone groaned.
Cracks spread across the rock face like spiderwebs, and entire chunks of cliff tore free and rose into the air as if gripped by invisible hands.
Oliver's jaw went slack. Fiona's eyes widened.
Inside the sandal, Ethan froze.
'What kind of power is this?' Ethan thought.
'That level of control over earth and gravity… is that a Grand Sorcerer? They really are not playing around.'
He still did not know their exact goal, but it was obvious they were not just hunting beasts.
Their actions were also aimed at the academy and its students.
From within the floating debris, two familiar figures appeared.
The cultist man and woman who had fought the white tiger.
The man looked miserable. Half his clothes were burned away.
Blood seeped from cuts all over his body, and his breathing was rough.
The sword in his hand trembled slightly.
The woman was wrapped in a thin shell of stone that cracked and fell away piece by piece, revealing pale skin beneath.
Her hair was a mess, her face drained of color, but her eyes remained cold and focused.
Further back, near the rear of the cavern, the white tiger lay low to the ground.
Its once white fur was now almost entirely crimson. Its body heaved with every breath.
Claws dug deep into the stone.
Under its belly, it seemed to be hiding something, spine curved protectively over a faintly glowing shape.
The leader's eyes paused there.
"If you will not hand it over," he said, "then we will simply sacrifice you together. A Tier Five beast and a Tier Six egg. A fine offering."
Oliver felt his scalp tingle.
'Tier Six beast egg?' he thought. 'Is that egg from the tiger and the boar?'
Ethan was stunned. 'Since when do tigers lay eggs?'
The leader moved his other hand.
The floating rocks scattered, then gathered again in mid air, grinding against one another and changing shape.
The ground shook as earth rose and merged into the stone above.
In the middle of the valley, a huge altar formed.
A flat stone platform rose from the ground.
Pillars grew from its corners, twisting as if carved by invisible chisels.
Chains of earth and metal slithered along the surface like snakes.
The white tiger roared and tried to move, but an unseen force pressed it down.
Chains shot out, wrapping around its limbs and torso and pinning it to the center of the altar.
It struggled, blood spraying across the stone, but the more it fought, the tighter the restraints pulled.
Around the altar, crosses made from stone pushed up from the ground.
The living chains coiled again.
They lashed toward the unconscious examinees piled by the cart.
One by one, the students were dragged into the air and bound to the crosses like sacks hung up to dry.
Oliver recognized faces.
A boy who had stood near him in line.
A girl with sandal mark on her face.
Another examinee who had laughed at "Liam Liamson III."
Now all of them dangled from stone crosses, heads hanging.
Two more chains turned toward Oliver and Fiona.
Fiona did not hesitate.
Mana surged around her, gathering at the hairpin on her head.
The Turtle Shell array unfolded at once.
Layers of hexagonal barriers snapped into place around them, forming a thick shield in all directions.
CLANG!!!
The first chain slammed into the barrier with a dull impact.
It did not break through. It bent.
The metal twisted in the air, slid along the barrier's surface, then curved around it like a snake searching for a gap.
Another chain followed, copying its path, probing from the side.
"They are going around it?" Fiona's pupils shrank.
Oliver raised his branch on instinct. The chain whipped across the wood.
Crack.
His "weapon" snapped cleanly in two.
He stared at the broken half for a heartbeat.
'I need proper weapons,' he thought.
The chain came again, this time straight for his chest.
Oliver jerked his arm up and shoved the only thing he had left between them.
The sandal.
Metal smashed into sole.
Sparks jumped where chain met enchanted material.
For a moment, the chain slowed, grinding against Ethan's body.
Then it twisted again, finding a narrow opening and lunging toward Oliver's side.
Inside the sandal, Ethan's soul shook.
'Next time give me some warnign!' Ethan Complained
The masked leader snorted softly behind his wooden mask.
"Take care of the two of them," he said.
The cultist man and woman moved at once.
Their bodies blurred and crossed the distance in less than a breath.
One stopped in front of Fiona. The other appeared in front of Oliver.
"Too slow," the woman said coldly.
Her fist drove straight into Fiona's stomach.
"Fio—" Oliver began.
BAM.
The blow sank in.
Air rushed out of Fiona's lungs. Her eyes widened, and her body folded slightly.
The waiting chain coiled around her waist and arms, and in the next instant she was yanked away and pinned to one of the stone crosses.
"Fiona!" Oliver shouted.
The cultist man swung his sword's sheath toward Oliver's head like a club.
Inside the sandal, Ethan sensed the shift in his shoulder.
"Head!" he snapped. "Duck!"
Oliver's body reacted before his mind finished processing the warning.
He dropped his weight and tilted his head aside.
The sheath whistled past and missed his skull by a finger's width.
The cultist man frowned. He could feel the temperature behind him drop slightly.
He knew the leader was watching.
He did not get the chance to correct his mistake.
His body jerked.
Spine curved unnaturally as if something had grabbed his core from within.
"Trash," the masked leader said.
He snapped his fingers.
The cultist man exploded.
SPLASH!!!
Flesh, bone, and blood burst outward.
The cultists nearby stepped back half a pace to avoid the splash, their expressions unchanged.
Oliver stared, stomach churning.
'These cultist, they killed their own man,' he thought. 'No hesitation at all.'
The blood did not fall, It hung in mid air.
The red liquid spread and thinned, stretching like a liquid cloak that vibrate faintly with mana.
Then it rushed straight toward Oliver.
"Senior!" Oliver shouted, pushing Ethan up again. "Block it!"
The blood curtain hit the sandal first.
For one instant, it felt like slapping thick mud.
Then the liquid touching Ethan's sole hardened, turning into something like sharp stone.
The rest of the blood followed, solidifying at the last moment and punching through the gap between sole and arm.
The impact slammed into Oliver's face.
SLAP.
Pain exploded through his skull. His vision went white and then spun in circles.
His body lifted off the ground and flipped like a doll kicked by a giant.
He did not even have time to curse.
Chains lashed out.
They wrapped around his arms and legs mid air and yanked hard, slamming him against an empty cross.
Rough stone dug into his back as the restraints tightened, biting into his skin and locking him in place.
The sandal slipped, but one strap caught around his wrist, leaving Ethan dangling helplessly by his side.
Inside, Ethan felt his consciousness ringing.
'That hurt,' he thought weakly. 'I am a sandal and it still hurts. This world is not fair at all.'
Above the altar, dozens of stone swords floated into position.
Each blade was formed from compacted earth and rock, rough but sharp.
They pointed downward toward the altar and the bound figures, hanging there like a forest of executioners waiting for an order.
The masked leader lifted his chin slightly and looked over the scene.
"Prepare for the ritual," he said. "We are running out of time."
Around him, the cultists bowed their heads.