The Spirit Hands were on the move, buzzing around Gary Stew like a swarm of angry bees with fists. They darted in, throwing punches that landed with all the force of a polite tap on the shoulder. Gary didn’t flinch. In fact, he laughed—a hearty, full-bellied laugh that echoed through the clearing.

Time to switch tactics. Two hands attempted to gouge out his eyes, while another clamped down on his family jewels like a vise grip, while the rest worked on yanking Alwin free from his iron grip.

Gary howled in pain, dropping Alwin. It worked. The remaining pairs of hands celebrated freeing their master, giving out high-fives to each other, but that celebration was short-lived. He sliced the hands that dared to mess with his manhood and then smacked away those going for his eyeballs.

Gary fixed them with a glare that could melt steel—way worse than Uchronia's scariest death stare. His eyes were bloodshot, not just from the near gouging, but from sheer rage.

"I don't need you fresh to prepare my dessert," said Gary Stew.

He held out the knife in front of him. Alwin knew what that stance meant. Hands! Go! Go! Go! Throw him now! They didn't need to be told twice. Three sets of hands threw him away from Gary, but there was a problem. The throw wasn't the normal throw where they all lined up and tossed Alwin at increasing speeds. All three pairs of hands grabbed Alwin at the same time. Sure, they threw him, but not as far or fast as they could've.

Gary was hot on his flying tush, knife still held out in front of him as he ran towards Alwin. The mental connection with his Spirit Hands had been severed—no thanks to Gary. Needless to say, he was panicking. What should he do? What should he do! He couldn't take a slice from him. He was just an innocent Tier 1 Dark Slime without any means to defend himself. Should he attack him? Offense was the best defense after all. Should he summon his Spirit Hands so that they could play hot potato with him like they did during the quiz against the metal golem? What should he do? What should he do! He didn't know what to do.

"Five-Spice Slice!"

This was it. The day he would be reduced to a mere dessert item—not even the main course, the star of the dish. It was a fun one-and-a-half months of life.

The swoosh of the knife swinging downward, the dull thud of flesh being carved up, and the smell of iron wafting through the air. But the scream of agony that followed wasn’t his.

Alwin slammed into the ground, the impact rippling through his gelatinous form. He twisted around to find Lin, she had defended him. She stood tall, her staff clenched in one hand, the crystal atop it blazing with like a glowing emerald as she unleashed a Chaotic Conjure. The four orbs coalesced, engulfing Gary Stew in a kaleidoscope of color.

In her other hand—well she didn't have that privilege anymore—there was only empty space. His eyes trailed down and, oh look, he found what Lin was missing. There on the ground below her, was her severed hand. Different amounts of color and spices decorated the edge of the stump.

The smoke cleared, revealing a very much alive Gary Stew. Parts of his chest were charred, blistering red flesh exposed. It wasn't healing. He wasn't healing!

Gary looked down and his chest, and touched the burn marks on his skin. His face singeing in pain as a finger traced the injury. His face went pale and he stuck out his tongue, revealing the withered gray Enchanted Glimmerbloom, no longer lighting up the insides of his mouth. He ran. The cocky laughter was gone. The mocking of his opponents was gone. Gary Stew, the Monster Chef, was running away.

This was their chance. All Lin had to do was fire off another Chaotic Conjure then he'd be dead. Go, Lin! Go! Lin went alright. She went face-first into the ground, passing out from blood loss. A geyser of blood shooting out from where her hand should be. Well, if she wasn't going to do it then he would.

Alwin started preparing a Spirit Blast. Finally, he would have his revenge. The blue iridescent orb materialized in front of him, and it was his turn to laugh. Gary was toast. It chased after the fleeing human.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Alwin watched as Gary's legs flailed beneath him, each step more desperate than the last. His arms flailed in a feeble attempt to maintain balance. His breath hitched in panicked gasps as his entire body trembled. This was it. The orb was inches away from blasting him. That stupid human was getting his comeuppance for hurting his friends.

Two blurs shot out from the surrounding bushes. Before Alwin could react, the blurs resolved into figures—figures that threw themselves between Gary and the Spirit Blast. With synchronized shouts, the figures swung knives coated in a golden aura, knocking the Spirit Blast off course and into an innocent bystander—a tree.

Those shouts, that skill, that yellow and red robe that was stained brown. It was Huang Jian and Hong Jian. Alwin had completely forgotten about those two spineless young masters who had been clinging to Gary Stew. Why were they here?

"Huang Jian? Hong Jian? What are you doing here?" Gary wheezed out in between haggard breaths

"Such a talent cannot be wasted," said Huang Jian.

"We will get you out of here," said Hong Jian.

Not on Alwin's watch. Those three humans were as good as dead. Gary was practically marching his way into the afterlife, and with nothing but a bunch of kitchen knives, those two young masters' weren't going to stop him. Alwin started preparing another Spirit Blast, his face scrunching up with malice and concentration.

"Halt monster!" shouted Huang Jian.

Yeah, no. Alwin ignored their pleas. This was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"You may have the ability to defeat us, but are you able to do it before your companion dies," said Hong Jian, pointing at Lin. The color draining from her body as fast as the blood pooling around her.

Alwin fired off another Spirit Blast. Golden mana covered the blade as they swung the short edge—Golden Sweep— throwing the Spirit Blast off course into another innocent tree that was just minding its own business.

Alwin clicked his tongue. They were right. Alwin could probably overwhelm them with innumerable numbers of Spirit Blasts and their variations, but Lin would probably die of blood loss by then. There was no telling what a cornered human was capable of doing.

What about the archer lady? Last he checked, she was still able-bodied. She could probably tend to Lin as he finished them off, but she was most likely nursing the other members of Goblin Force Five, her hands were full and Alwin's metaphorical hands were tied.

With a part of his mind focused on keeping track of the humans, the other parts went to work. He weighed his choices. Save Lin or kill the humans. Logically, if the humans were allowed to live they would go on to cause even more chaos and destruction after they recovered. Lin could save monster lives, but would it be enough to make up for the lives that were lost thanks to letting the humans walk free?

The two young masters' were important enough to warrant an entourage escorting them, while Gary Stew was a Monster Chef recognized for his talents. Lin was just one goblin in the Human Hunter Corps, whose squad struggled to defeat that metal golem, while his managed to complete it on their first go without any sort of preparation. Logically, it was better to kill off the humans and let Lin bleed out. That’s what his logic told him.

But since when had Alwin ever been logical? Lin had saved his friends, so he should save her. That's all there was to it. If only he was stronger, then this whole debacle would never have happened. Curse his weakness. Curse his useless Spirit Blast. Curse his Core Skill. He stared at the trio. red with anger.

The young masters' stared back with their knives out, waiting. They were waiting for something, anything, to happen. Waiting for the Dark Slime to make a move or to acknowledge their proposition.

Alwin didn't move. So they made a move first. They backed off, one step at a time. Their knives pointed at Alwin as his face twisted with rage. Cursing himself for being weak, for being stupid. Because of his decision, the world was a more dangerous place for monster kind. Who knew how many monsters the young masters would kill? How many monsters that Gary Stew would make meals out of? He could've nipped those horrors in the bud right here, right now, but Lin had helped him in his time of need, so by all means he had to help her when she needed it the most.

Eventually, they started running. As fast as two spoiled brats who had to shoulder an injured man could. The sounds of them rummaging through bushes and breaking twigs that came underfoot dwindled until only the sounds that remained were the rustling of leaves and Lin's soft groans.

He had to help her, but how? It's not like he had a healing ability on standby. His bag with the Small Healing Pills was left back at camp while Uchronias' and Gus' were nowhere to be found. Looking at the blood watering the ground, he doubted that a Small Healing Pill would even be enough.

Uchronia was still passed out, she surely would've known what to do in this situation, and Gus... Well, he'd probably offer her a muffin as if that would fix her boo-boo. Only one choice left, that archer lady better be able to fix her up, if not Alwin would've let those humans go for nothing and all the death and destruction that they brought would've lay solely on him.