I reeled in the aftermath of Despite the whimsical name, the crafted explosive device’s posting including a list of specifications as long as my arm. It was supposed to be a low-yield payload with a limited radius, using a mix of “temporal reiteration,” and straight-up blast power to obliterate anything in a tight circumference. Its effective area was so contained and small that I doubted it would work as a car bomb—it could absolutely ruin the day of the people in either the front or back seats, or annihilate an engine block, but you’d need multiple to achieve all three simultaneously, which was both inefficient and something of a relief.

History, as always, was prone to repeating itself. With independent crafters on the rise it was a growing area of argument and discourse among the regions at large. Some wanted to restrict the production and sale of explosives completely for obvious reasons, while the opposition argued that they flattened the playing field, and allowed both low-tier Users and civilians to defend themselves against the sort of high-level threats that were commonplace during the transposition.

My opinion was mixed. A capable mage like Astrid or Astria were more than capable of creating large-scale destruction that equaled or sometimes exceeded a run-of-the-mill explosive, so in some ways it felt like a moot point. Simultaneously, the idea of placing access to explosives at the fingertips of every gun-toting propaganda-spouting fringe dweller in the dome—of which there were many—made me uneasy.

If I’m being honest, I wanted that access. Current circumstances served as a suitable example. I’d found myself in a situation where I needed to do more damage than I was capable of. I’d done my due diligence, identified an ideal staging ground, and hopefully, reduced my regenerating attacker to dust.

I just wasn’t sure I wanted to see what happened if everyone else had it.

Even my use hadn’t been perfect. I wasn’t physically hurt and had taken no damage from the blast, but just being on the edges of it had scrambled my senses. As I pushed myself up, I nearly slipped, fighting the misfiring neurons and ruined equilibrium that made me feel as if I was constantly growing closer to the ground.

The sound of conflict reached my ears as my hearing returned. More than a few of the Chimeras Audrey had angered were still advancing on us, but most of them were turning to face the onslaught of their joint attackers. Mages hurled spells off of rooftops, while an aggressive and well-equipped forward line cut them down in droves. Their attention was split. Still, now that they were under attack, the creatures were putting up a more consolidated resistance, forcing back the adventurers who strayed too far forward with savage ambushes from the side. I’d disregarded them as stupid, which in retrospect was a poor estimation. They were lacking in general intelligence, but their instincts, the way they fought, gave the impression they were bred for war.

And considering the tide of the battle, they probably would not make it in time.

A snake-like chimera twice the size of the rest slithered towards me, ahead of the pack, forked tongue slipping out from human lips that were stretched too far back its arrowhead face to be called human anymore. I tried to pull my crossbow, watching helplessly as the targeting bead drifted over the snake’s head.

Can’t aim for shit with the shell shock.

Turned around as I was, a blade wasn’t going to be much better. I growled, knowing that the only option I had left would likely kill my poor summon, but extended my arm and gave a mental command. Audrey sprung off my shoulder, vines biting into my sleeve as she launched herself from it like a cannon-ball, landing on the base of the snake-chimera’s neck and wrapping her vines around it, riding it as it flailed and tried to throw her off.

That would give me more than enough time to pop the flight charm and escape, but it would mean abandoning the narrative I’d crafted. Not to mention, with the size differential, the snake would kill Audrey before she made a dent.

On some level I knew that using my summons this way was logical. If I died, they would also cease to exist. If they died, I could resurrect them once I had the mana to spare. My continuance meant their continuance. Still, I didn’t like it. Maybe I was anthropomorphizing them, conflating loyalty with duty, but ever since Hastur messed with my head, it was harder and harder to not see them as people. They’d all stuck their necks out for me, risen far above what was required. Expecting them to do that as a matter of course just seemed…

Shitty.

“Hold on, buddy!” The shout was audible, even over the din of battle. I looked up, half-expecting to see Nick. Surprisingly, the man sailing over a half-dozen monsters directly towards the snake-chimera wasn’t my friend. I was reasonably certain I’d never seen him before. Short-cropped hair, styled to perfection despite the circumstances. He was wearing the same light-weight variety of armor as me, which looked more like kevlar-composite and was prohibitively expensive. There was a saber on his hip, undrawn, leaving his hands free.

He landed on the snake’s head in an almost gymnastic-display of dexterity, pressed his palms together, and slapped them down over the serpent’s eyes. Audrey got clear just in time, releasing the snake and skittering across the pavement to me as fire raged beneath the newcomer’s palms.

The snake bucked in its death throes, launching the man high in the air. He sailed backward, head plummeting towards the pavement before he tucked his knees, completing the backflip and instinctually raising his arms in a salute for balance, a dead giveaway that he probably was a gymnast.

He snapped out of it just as quickly, sprinting back and forth between me and the oncoming chimeras, holding out his left hand and snapping his fingers, creating a collapsing radius of orange diamonds that radiated brightly.

A chimera that drew too close was immediately engulfed in flames, and the others drew back, staring at the minefield with cautious eyes.

“We always meet in the strangest places.” Saber guy grinned at me, far too happy considering the circumstances. Now that he was closer, something about him was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

I spared a glance to the side when another of the orange mines went off. They were testing the range, but not drawing any closer, then looked back to the newcomer. “Who… are you?”

Along the side of his neck, I spotted a tattoo of a human face, so faded and poorly penned it was almost indistinguishable. “Oh, sorry. Rolled in with the Adventurer’s Guild to help out.” He pointed to Audrey. “But I was talking to my friend.”