Mystic Sting lightly fluttered its wings on a nearby branch. It said nothing, but the faint movement clearly signaled its agreement: that was exactly what had happened.
Li Bufan could not help the curve forming at the corner of his mouth. He did not interrupt Little Devourer, though, and simply listened as it went on.
Little Devourer spoke faster and faster. "Of course Mystic Sting and I couldn't stand for that! We were living perfectly well inside the Creation Cauldron. The Hundred Herbs Garden is our territory, and we planted these spirit herbs with our own hands and feet. Why should some little thing from who-knows-where suddenly show up and start ordering us around? We charged right at him!"
"But... but what happened next was too strange. Mystic Sting and I took turns attacking. That little fellow stood still and let us hit him, but no matter how we attacked, we couldn't touch a single hair on his head!"
"My pincers passed through him like they were passing through a cloud of mist. Mystic Sting's wing blades did the same. But if he was an illusion, how could he talk, walk around, and make faces at us?"
Mystic Sting finally spoke, its steady voice coming from the branch. "Yes, that is what happened. That little fellow's state was peculiar. He seemed to be one with this space, and the space itself dissolved every attack aimed at him."
Little Devourer nodded vigorously. "Right, right! But don't worry, Master. We couldn't hit him, but he couldn't hurt us either."
"With those tiny arms and legs of his, he couldn't have harmed us. After all, even when he stood there and let us attack, we couldn't hit him!"
"After he came by a few more times, we got used to it. Neither side