The egg shook harder.
Cracks spread along its shell as Ethan kept pushing mana into it.
The light inside grew brighter and the whole thing began to swell.
It slowly expanded from the size of a normal boulder to something as tall as an adult human.
The shell finally split.
Instead of falling apart in pieces, one large fragment on top broke free and flew upward like it had been launched.
It spun twice in the air, then flashed, its surface changing as if something polished it in an instant.
When it fell, it did not look like eggshell anymore.
It looked like a crystal, clear and sharp, the size of a fist, with faint white patterns flowing inside it like mist.
Fragment of the Tier 5 core.
Ethan did not have time to admire it.
The crystal dropped straight onto him.
"Wait, wait, wait, I'm not ready." he thought.
The core passed through the sandal's surface like it was sinking into water.
Light burst out along the straps and sole.
Runes that had never existed before flashed across the black material, then vanished as if they had sunk inside.
Ethan felt it. Power….
Pure mana and something deeper poured into his soul. It was not like drinking water.
It was like someone had grabbed his soul, shaken it, and poured hot wine into it all at once.
His spirit solidified, as if it had just been hammered into shape.
Heat rushed through him, then coolness, then a strange floating sensation.
His thoughts sharpened. His senses spread farther without effort.
'What is this feeling…' Ethan thought blankly.
'Like a spiritual promotion mixed with… a full body massage… and maybe a small climax for the soul… This is indecent.'
If he still had a face, it would be red.
On the altar, the blast of light from the egg drew every gaze.
Students, cultists, instructors, even the masked leader and the Slime Witch turned toward it for a heartbeat.
Oliver saw the glow and felt something hammer inside his chest in response.
The power inside the sandal had linked to his soul earlier.
Now that power flooded through that link and brushed past him.
His vision cleared.
His fatigue did not vanish, but it felt like someone had grabbed the back of his neck and forced him to stay awake.
"This is…" he whispered.
Ethan's voice cut into his mind.
"Do not stand there," Ethan said. "Use it."
Oliver gritted his teeth and pulled.
The chain wrapped around Fiona had been quietly eroded by his mana for some time.
Now, with his spirit sharper and his control steadier, he pushed mana into the weak points in a single breath.
Click.
The inner links shattered.
The chain snapped free from the stone, releasing her completely.
Fiona's body slumped forward as the last chain broke. Oliver slid an arm under her legs and another behind her back on instinct.
"Sorry," he muttered. "We will take revenge, but not now."
As he turned, a shadow fell across his path.
One of the cultists had finally noticed.
"Stop!" the man shouted, raising his hand.
Heat flared around his palm as he prepared to cast.
A streak of light cut in from the side.
SLASH!!!
The cultist jerked and staggered back, a line of blood opening on his arm.
Cedric stood there, chest heaving, sword in hand, chains hanging broken behind him.
"You again," Cedric said, glancing at Oliver for half a breath. "What a trouble magnet."
Oliver blinked.
"You…"
"Do not misunderstand," Cedric snapped.
"I cannot stand you, but we are still fellow students. I will not watch cult garbage kill you in front of me."
He flicked his sword, sending blood flying, and stepped forward to block the cultist's path.
Oliver's throat tightened.
"Thanks," he said.
Cedric snorted and did not answer.
The exchange took some time to describe. In reality, only a few seconds had passed since the egg cracked.
Oliver shifted Fiona more securely in his arms and ran. The Silver Moon Fox jumped from her shoulder to Oliver's head,
He jumped off the altar, and landed in a crouch, using mana to soften the impact.
Then he sprinted toward the edge of the ritual.
Around them, fight erupted.
Other instructors who had broken through the interference finally arrived, spells already prepared.
A few awake examinees who still had strength joined the fight, attacking cultists tied down by slime.
The ritual circle flickered, its lines struggling to hold under external attacks and internal interference.
Back at the egg, change reached its peak.
The shell broke piece by piece, dissolving into light that flowed inward instead of falling outward.
The egg's surface smoothed, then split, as if something inside were pushing it open from the inside.
A small palm broke through first.
It look like a human hand with a faint hint of soft pink on her skin.
Light gathered in her palm.
It condensed into a small sphere, then exploded upard, forming a beam that extended from the palm like a blade.
A column of white-pink energy erupted from the egg.
It punched straight through the roof of the altar, then arced down toward the masked leader and the Slime Witch like a descending judgment.
Every pair of eyes that could still see turned toward it.
Even Oliver, who was trying to escape, could not help but look back.
His jaw dropped.
The beam power is not a joke. It tore through air and stone. Wherever it passed, the space seem to distort.
"The power is on a different level," Ethan whispered. "Is this how a real Kamehameha looks like?"
Then he caught himself.
'Yeah, no, that sounds like a copyright strike waiting to happen,' he thought. 'I should just call it Turtle Wave from now on.'
On the battlefield, the Slime Witch's face went pale.
She wanted to retreat, but the leader moved first.
Instead of trying to dodge, he stepped in.
He grabbed her with both arms, pulling her against him and locking her in place. H
The Slime Witch's eyes bulged.
"Hey," she shouted. "I know I am cute, but look at the time and place, you crazy cultist!"
The masked leader laughed.
"Let's Die together," he said.
"Die your head!" she screamed. "Let go!"
At that moment, she finally realized something was wrong.
The leader's body under the robe did not feel like flesh. It was cold and hard, like polished wood.
The impact of their earlier clashes, the unnatural feel of his aura all clicked into place.
"A puppet," she hissed. "You are not even here yourself."
She clenched her teeth.
Slime flooded out from her sleeves and robe, wrapping her body in a thick, translucent layer.
She gathered all her strength into her defense as the beam struck.
Light swallowed them both, and the world turned white.
For a moment, sound vanished.
Then the beam exploded.
BOOM!!!!
White-pink energy burst outward, breaking into countless thinner rays that shot in every direction, like a storm of blades made of light.
Cultists who were still standing did not even have time to scream.
Each ray that touched them cut through mana shields and flesh alike, erasing bodies in flashes.
In the next moment there were only falling masks and empty robes.
The wooden puppet that had been the leader shattered into charred fragments.
The Slime Witch staggered out of the explosion zone, her slime armor half melted, her robe burned in several places.
Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, but she was alive.
She spat out a mouthful of blackened slime.
"Clara," she gasped, looking toward the altar. "Your child's greeting is too violent."
Oliver held Fiona and stared at the ruin where the cultists had been.
His legs shook.
"This…" he whispered. "This is Tier Six power?"
Inside the sandal, Ethan swallowed.
'No,' he thought. 'This is baby's first sneeze.'