"Yin-Yang Slime Secret Art: Vomit."

Alwin hurled out the contents of his stomach, which consisted mainly of the cookies that he had munched on. It shot out of his mouth, spilling all over the charging Bion. Chunks of brown goo clung to him, staining his black Mourning Bell brown.

He didn't stop his charge, instead raising multiple tentacles into the air, ready to pound the ever-living slime out of Alwin.

Feeling better, Alwin said, "Whoops, sorry, Bion. Didn't mean to do that. I'll help clean you up."

"Shut it, Al-loser.

"Umbral Lash!" he roared.

His already dark tentacles grew even darker. A trail of darkness followed it as he swung.

Alwin panicked and rolled out of the way, his face smooshing against the floor as he spun at an impressive number of revolutions per minute. The tentacles struck the ground behind him, completely missing him. The Mourning Bell continued to swing his tentacles wildly, mashing the floor.

Ha! His aim was off by a mile.

All of a sudden, Alwin felt a sting lash across his side. Then another, and another.

"He's attacking our shadow!" Niwla burst out.

"Hey, no backseat piloting!" Alwin screamed back.

Alwin sucked in his gut, reducing the size of his shadow, causing Bion to miss. Then, he flattened himself, dodging under another one.

If Milvus hadn't already foreseen this, he would've been slapping his face with one of his paper-thin tentacles at the sight of arguably the two strongest students in his class. One of them whacking the floor with careless abandonment, the other a short distance away, constantly sucking in his gut or veering to the side as if a ghost was attacking him.

"Could we stop this, Bion?" Alwin asked. "I really want to clean up the floor before we continue. Last thing I want is to be like you."

The Mourning Bell roared, tolling with rage. An unexpected side effect of his Yin-Yang Slime Secret Art, but something he could take advantage of.

If Bion wasn't going to let him go and grab a mop—more realistically, convince Uchronia to grab a mop and help clean up after him—he'd do it himself.

Taking advantage of Bion's blind rage, Alwin produced numerous Spirit Hands. Already having received their orders to sneak up on him, the Spirit Hands slowly walked in the air towards the bell, their two fingers gently sneaking towards him in a conga line of stealth.

The Mourning Bell hadn't noticed the Spirit Hands that were already above him.

Perfect.

Their pale, spirit fingers interlaced with each other like gears locking with one another. Together, they formed a really large stick made out of numerous Spirit Hands.

Now was the time to execute his plan.

The Spirit Hands moved downwards, grabbing Bion by the top of his bell. They tried to move him, but they were either too weak or Bion was too heavy. The obvious answer was both.

The Mourning Bell ignored them, focused on whacking Alwin's shadow into oblivion.

Don't worry, Spirit Hands! Alwin was here to help.

He charged straight toward, doing his absolute best to stop the bell from hitting his shadow. However, there came a point where Alwin could no longer dodge. Numerous darkened tentacles headed for his shadow; there was no way out.

Okay, he lied. There was a way out.

Rolling full speed, Alwin hopped into the air toward Bion. Just as he was about to be Umbral Lashed, there was a brief burst of light as Alwin transformed, nullifying the encroaching shadows.

He was back as a Dark Slime.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Success!

Except for the part where he was about to crash into the vomit-stricken side of Bion.

The Spirit Hands broke formation; some of them extended down the stick, forming a separate shaft to grab Alwin before he needed to be cleaned up, too. They pulled him up to the top, like a laughable caricature of Winal's Mental Hand Conveyor Belt.

The Spirit Hands resumed formation, gripping the tip of Bion's bell, with Alwin now on the top. He transformed back into a Yin-Yang Slime, sending another blast of light that blinded everyone. Using his weight, he began to shift and bob to the side, using the Spirit Hands like a lever.

Bion, too blinded by rage to even think rationally, was forcibly moved around. Alwin navigated the Mourning Bell like he was operating the world's most unconventional stilt right over to the spot where he had thrown up.

His dark tentacles turned a shade of brown as Alwin literally mopped the floor with Bion.

Even more enraged, Bion let out another roar, this time using his bell.

"Mourning Toll!

He flung his tentacles up towards himself, bringing them down as he smacked himself. Did Bion already forget? The last time they fought, he managed to suppress that incessant ringing by literally using his Spirit Hands as some sort of dampener. Newsflash, look what was currently grabbing him.

Bion? More like… Bi-off? Yeah, he really needed to work on his insults.

The Mourning Bell struck himself. Instead of a dull clink that Alwin had expected, there was that ear-wrenching, metallic shriek. The Spirit Hands, despite not having ears, crumbled to the ground, writhing in pain as the sound waves assaulted them. Alwin fell to the ground as well.

A smug-looking Bion walked up toward them, using his tentacles to whip the Spirit Hands out of existence. Standing in front of Alwin, he used a single tentacle to stop that horrible ringing.

"I want you to suffer. To have your pride shattered as you lose miserably in front of the rest of the class."

"Says the guy covered in vomit," Alwin said, ears ringing, eyes spinning, mind running.

That caused Bion to be even more enraged.

"Umbral Lash! Shadow Tentacles!"

"Totally Legitimate Smokescreen Skill!" Alwin yelled in response.

A flood of Spirit Hands suddenly burst out of his Core, surrounding him. They swarmed around Bion, shrouding him as he made his getaway. There was a quick burst of light, and Alwin the Yin-Yang Slime was gone.

Instead, he was a Light Slime. He hopped over to the side of the classroom, joining his classmates.

The Spirit Hands were—as expected—destroyed in an instant with a few rapid swings of his tentacles. Fuming with rage, Bion slithered over to the side of the classroom.

"Come back here, you, Al-loser," he said, staring right at him.

What! How could this be? His disguise was foiled in an instant. Bion didn't know that he could be a Light Slime. So, how did he figure it out? Or maybe he didn't and was grasping at straws?

"Who? Me?" Alwin said, looking around to see if he was talking to anyone else.

"Who else? Al-loser. Your time is up."

"I'm not, Al-loser. I'm not even Alwin. I'm actually a new student who joined your class because I got held back a year."

"Good. Panic. It will make your shame that much more enjoyable."

Bion lifted up another one of his tentacles, a huge gear appearing right at the tip. It was shrouded in darkness, turning a fear-inducing black as night. And that was before it started to spin like a saw.

Honestly, forgot all about Bion's Core Skill, Mechanize. It allowed him to manifest gears, though he tended to normally use them as armor. This was something very new, very cool, and very terrifying.

Even more terrifying than that was the fact that Bion himself was now shrouded with gears of various sizes all interlocking with themselves like… well, gears. Why did he do that? The answer was obvious.

He had a gear to grind with him.

Good thing, Alwin already had a plan for this situation.

"Niwla!" he shouted. "Your turn."

"What?" he squawked. That was something he hadn't anticipated. Even though he wasn't operating at his maximum capacity, this was far within the range of predictions that he had come up with.

Was he truly smarter now as a MODOC? Or did that enlarged brain merely serve as some sort of placebo?

"Fine," Niwla said, he would get down to the bottom of this later.

Alwin rolled off the control seat toward Winal. The ant gave him a couple of good job head pats, as well as a rare soft smile of his mandibles.

A couple of flashes of light later, and Niwla had resumed his MODOC form.

Ah, did it feel good to once again have access to higher computational resources, though not like he would require it for a foe such as Bion? He was too blinded by rage and his broken pride. It was an easy fight.

"Withdrawal. Mix. Homing Ice Needles."

Multiple bundles of Ice Needles appeared, all with those black, beady dots embedded within the thin strip. They flew forward, spreading out, and using the Withdrawal gas to maneuver towards Bion. The needles injected themselves between the gaps of Bion's gears. Gas ejected out of them, freezing the gears and dousing Bion in Withdrawal gas.

The gears shattered. Bion screamed in agony. Tentacles writhing all over the place.

"You have lost. Again," Niwla said.

He turned to Milvus, the triangle-headed monster nodded in return.

Niwla ended the skills, the Homing Ice Needles disappearing, the frost around Bion slowly melting.

Milvus picked Bion up, placing him down by the sidelines and sliding a Small Healing Pill under his bell.

Following this, he turned to the rest of the class. "Would anyone else like to spar with Alwin?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.