Oliver clenched his right fist, sucked in a breath, and hurled Ethan with everything he had.
The black sandal cut through the chaotic air like a rock thrown out of pure resentment.
It spun past flying spells, chunks of stone, and a streak of green slime, heading straight toward the white tiger and the egg beneath her.
"Good throw," Ethan thought as he flew.
"If this kid had thrown like this back on Earth, he could have made the baseball team."
Oliver did not watch the result.
He turned his attention back to the chains on his body.
The Silver Moon Fox appeared like a small streak of white light, darting through the battlefield.
It slipped past a stunned cultist, jumped over a fallen student, and hopped onto the edge of the altar.
Cedric, who had been "unconscious" until now, opened his eyes fully.
Mana flared around him.
He snapped the rope that held his arms, and slammed his shoulder into the nearest cultist's knee.
The man screamed and toppled.
Cedric's hand grabbed the fallen man's wrist and forced his own rope against the edge of the cultist's dagger.
With one hard pull, the bindings snapped.
"About time you contribute," Ethan muttered in his heart as he flew past.
The Silver Moon Fox leaped.
It landed neatly on top of Oliver's head like it had done this a thousand times.
Its tail moved, Cold mana surged.
A sharp chill ran along the chains that bound Oliver's left arm and chest.
Ice spread quickly, turning dark metal pale white in a few breaths.
"Gah… cold cold cold!" Oliver hissed through his teeth.
The frozen chain bit into his skin, burning with freezing pain, but he could feel the structure stiffen under his mana.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to ignore the pain.
'Focus,' he told himself. 'This is just material. Just a different kind of metal.'
His right hand pressed against the frozen chain as mana flowed from his core into his fingertips and seeped into the metal.
Oliver's thoughts shifted into artificer mode, and he pictured runes, simple lines and basic patterns.
Bit by bit, his mana etched new patterns into the chain from the inside.
The chain trembled.
The cultists were too busy fighting at slime and blocking academy spells to notice his action.
A crack ran through one of the links.
The original control rune that bound the chain to the altar flickered and went dim.
Oliver opened his eyes.
Sweat mixed with blood on his forehead, but there was a light in his gaze.
"Come on," he whispered. "You belong to me now."
The frozen metal groaned.
Then the section binding his left arm snapped away from the main anchor and wriggled like a stiff iron snake.
The loose section of chain slithered in the air, moving in jerks at first, then smoother as Oliver's new runes took over.
It wrapped around his forearm like a gauntlet and waited for his will.
Oliver's lips lifted despite the chaos.
"I did it," he said under his breath. "Ice Chain, Mark One."
He did not waste time celebrating.
He pushed off the cracked stone and stumbled forward along the cross beam.
Fiona still hung on the next cross.
The Silver Moon Fox jumped from Oliver's head onto her shoulder, whining softly.
"Hang on," Oliver muttered.
He guided the frozen chain.
The iron snake uncoiled from his arm, slid across the cross beam, and wrapped around the chains binding Fiona.
Cold spread again as the fox added its own mana, reinforcing the freeze.
Oliver pressed his free hand to the metal.
"Break," he breathed.
The altered chain dug in, grinding against the original links.
Small cracking sounds rang out.
CLANG!!
Finally, one of Fiona's wrist chains shattered where the frost had weakened it.
Her arm dropped a little. Her eyelids twitched.
At the same time, the battlefield below exploded into an even greater mess.
The Slime Witch's giant arm slammed into the ritual again.
The masked leader's eyes behind the wood mask flashed with irritation.
He snapped his fingers.
Several cultists stiffened mid-chant.
The twisted horn-and-eye marks on their bodies flared.
Their throats tightened.
They did not even have time to scream before their bodies collapsed into bloody mist.
The blood did not fall.
The crimson vapor gathered above the altar, drawn to the leader's outstretched hand.
He clenched his fingers.
The blood condensed into a heavy, dark-red axe.
The ritual circle reacted to the sacrifice.
Lines of light around the altar brightened, surging again despite the slime's interference.
Above the white tiger, the huge stone swords that had been hanging in the air adjusted their angle.
They pointed directly at her heart.
The masked leader laughed, the sound muffled by wood but still filled with madness.
"Offer yourselves," he shouted. "Let your flesh open the way."
The stone swords fell.
SWOOSH!!!
The Slime Witch's expression changed.
She flung both hands forward, and a wall of slime rose up from the ground, thick enough to look like a green mountain.
The first few swords stabbed in and slowed, their edges grinding.
Cracks ran through them. But there were too many.
Some smashed through the slime, falling in a rain of stone blades toward the altar.
At the same time, the leader stomped on the air, using some technique that let him run on invisible steps, and sprinted forward.
His figure blurred as he leapt, closing the distance to the Slime Witch in a breath.
The fat sorcerer clicked her tongue.
"Annoying."
She touched the slime disc under her feet.
A thick layer rose around her body, forming a half-transparent armor.
The first blood sword that slipped past the slime wall stabbed into her side.
Her slime armor caught most of it, but edges still bit in.
Blood seeped down her robe.
The leader raised the axe above his head and swung down with both hands, aiming to split her from head to toe.
While everyone stared at that clash, the black sandal finally landed where it needed to be.
Ethan hit the stone beside the white tiger's body and bounced once.
"Ow," he thought. "Who throws a sandal this far without warning. Oh right, my disciple."
He slid, then came to rest right beside the white tiger's foreleg.
Up close, he could see how bad her condition was.
Each breath she took made blood bubble at the wound on her side.
Her claws still dug into the altar, holding herself over the large egg, shielding it with the last of her strength.
Her golden eyes cracked open.
For a moment, those beast eyes met the empty sole of the sandal.
'This looks stupid,' Ethan thought. 'But if it works, no one will complain.'
He pushed his awareness out and wrapped it around the egg again.
The being inside answered him at once.
It rushed toward his sense like someone grabbing at a helping hand.
"Alright," he muttered. "Listen. I am going to push from outside. You kick from inside. If this fails, we all die together. No pressure."
He drew in mana.
The ritual field was thick with it.
Cultists poured power in.
The academy sorcerers poured power in to block them.
The air itself vibrated with overflowing mana.
Ethan did not dare grab any of it.
He pulled only a thin stream, guiding it through his own soul, then pressed it into the shell.
Inside the egg, something roared.
The surface of the shell trembled, hairline cracks starting to appear like spiderwebs.
On the cross, Oliver's heart suddenly jumped.
He did not know why, but he felt something under the tiger changing.
He broke another of Fiona's chains.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
"Oliver…?" she whispered, voice hoarse.
"Later," he said quickly. "Surivive first, yell at me after."
The Silver Moon Fox yipped in agreement.
Below, the leader's blood axe slammed down toward the Slime Witch.
The giant slime arm rose to meet it.
The world in front of the altar exploded in red and green light.