We needed a plan, and we didn't have the time, knowledge or resources to make one.

Alongside Sigura and Streiphen, who'd been dragged into this situation because of me, I walked through the streets of Divastyr. We kept our pace steady, yet casual. Not moving too fast, nor too slow.

The eyes of civilians, merchants, and even adventurers were drawn to us. They were looking at us not just because of our appearances, but because of the slowly growing group of armored Orcs patiently stalking us from a distance away.

We'd left the warm, relative safety of the shopping center. The crowds we'd been using to shield ourselves against potential enemies had been used against us. We'd underestimated how much those Big Tooth people wanted to take us in. They were willing to approach us in broad daylight, in front of dozens of normal people. The crowd we'd been using had become a detriment. We couldn't risk fighting in a public area to defend ourselves, even if... even if they were.

Their determination was greater than I'd expected. Between that and my stupid, hulking body, I'd dragged my friends into a dangerous situation.

The three of us walked beneath a bright, cloudless sky. The only shadows that fell over us were those of the towering buildings on all sides, covering us in thick shade. Some streets were filled with nothing but darkness, while others were bright and clear. No matter the street's size or shape, the Orcs continued to stalk us.

Where were we going? I was leading the silent group, but I had no route in mind. We needed a place to make our stand and take down our pursuers, but where could we go?

We couldn't just fight in the middle of a street, could we? If we had to tell civilians to run or leave, that would put us in a bad light. It would make us seem like the monsters our appearances made us out to be, conflicting with the meagre law enforcement this area relied on.

Why were the Orcs content to let us lead the way? They knew the city better than we did. If they wanted a clean fight, then they would have guided us somewhere without delay. Despite their words, it was clear to me that they didn't. If they weren't guiding us to an uninhabited area where nobody was at risk of being hurt, then did they want to gauge how much we valued finding a safe space to fight, even at the detriment to our own safety?

I doubted their intentions were that pure. Instead, I suspected they wanted us to turn and fight in a public space. They wanted to turn this into a spectacle. To fight and have people see us being overpowered. Was that how they wanted to make it seem? A group of protectors taking down a trio of dangerous monsters? I didn't know, but even the thought made my skin roll.

Sigura didn't seem anywhere near as worried as I felt. Her gait was casual, one long leg moving in front of the other, tail easily swinging side to side. Her hands were jammed into the pockets of her bright orange shorts, gleaming Cat-like eyes glancing around at the surrounding businesses as though this were nothing more than a casual midday stroll, her pleasant whistling lost to the sound of bustling streets.

Streiphen tried to mimic the ease with which she walked. He wasn't clinging to me anymore, but his movements were stiff. His arms swayed back and forth with an almost mechanical precision. His hands were clenched, and his expression was strained, frozen in a position that was neither happy nor sad, angry nor calm. As though he were trying his hardest not to betray how he felt. That in itself told me everything I needed to know.

How did I look? I couldn't tell. The eyes of Divastyr's people were on us as we passed, followed by a retinue of armed Beastfolk. It felt as though we were being paraded around, like the star attraction of a freak show, or being marched to the site of an execution.

They didn't need to rush. They could fight us whenever they pleased, and this was a gesture, the nature of which I couldn't truly pin down. Time was on their side.

I really, really wished that I'd made those cloaking devices. If we made it back to base in one piece, that was the top priority.

What was the ideal spot to fight?

We turned a corner, passing by a large building I belatedly noted was the Adventurer's Guild. A spacious building formed from gold coloured wood, with a wide walkway, double doors and a number of windows lining the walls. Even without focusing on those windows, I could see the silhouettes of armored adventurers outside. Slowly but surely, more gathered at the windows, looking out at us as we passed.

The building was familiar. I'd never seen Divastyr's Guild in person, but... it still seemed familiar.

Unlike Streiphen's shyness, Sigura didn't look away. She stared down those looking out at us with wide eyes. Not hostile, yet not backing down, either. Hard, cold eyes that begged for them to try and fight her. That wanted them to make the first move to give her an excuse.

I picked up my pace, leading us away from the Guild.

We needed a good spot to fight these Orcs. Should I look for a small alley? Enclosed, linear spaces were clearly advantageous for me. I'd seen from my battles in Dronrowth that limiting my enemy's movement was perfect for constant attacks from my metal.

But I wasn't the only one fighting. A tighter space would be worse for Sigura, who excelled in open spaces that allowed her to leap around. If she hadn't had so much area to evade the strikes of Trainmech, would that fight have gone so well? Not only that, but her Heat Magic could damage property or bystanders.

Accommodating Streiphen was even more difficult. I didn't really know what he could provide in a battle, or whether he'd even fight at all. Would he be reluctant to take on the enemy? The only attack I'd ever seen him use was that huge emerald blade of [Release], the one he'd used to cut through the sleeping gas back in the Chimera Facility. Could he even handle fighting a real opponent?

Maybe the correct move wasn't to fight at all. My magic was well suited to stalling the enemy. If my allies didn't need to worry about me, Sigura could pick up Streiphen and easily escape. It was... it was unwise to fight when we didn't know the enemy's numbers or abilities, right? Should I just find a way for them to escape?

We could fight in the park. We knew where that was, roughly. If we backtracked to a street we recognised, we could find it. I didn't want to fight around civilians, but it was an area with plenty of open space. But it wouldn't reflect well on us, and Sigura's heat could damage the park itself. We... we needed something better, and we needed it fast.

The longer we spent wandering without a goal, the more time the Orcs had to call reinforcements, prepare countermeasures, and come up with a plan that would be far better than ours. We had to hurry, but-

I felt a hand touch my trembling metal leg.

My body jolted, the metal within shaking and rattling loudly. The sound shocked many passersby, even the ones who's eyes had already been locked onto us from the moment we turned the corner onto their street. It was an embarrassing action, especially after I'd seen the person who'd touched me had only been Streiphen.

"A-are you okay, Miss Yuri?" he asked, voice and expression coloured with concern.

How could I even answer that? I didn't know what to do, and didn't know what to feel. My body was in knots, the sweat pouring out of me was threatening to shrivel up the form beneath my helmet, my mech was quivering, and we were trapped. I had no idea what-

"Don't worry Yur, we've got this," Sigura assured me, placing a hand on the other side of my mech. Streiphen nodded decisively, moving with a confidence that I truly desired. A confidence I desperately needed right now.

Streiphen moved one arm, reaching a trembling hand up to the hilt of his blade. The jagged metal 'sword' on his back jangled with every movement, but held firm as his stiff fingers wrapped tightly around the handle. A silent gesture.

"The Don wants the public on our side, but if worst comes to worst, we're not holding back, Yur," Sigura told me, her voice casual and eyes forward. Those eyes still held that hardness. She was still ready for a fight. "We don't want to hurt any civs, obviously, but if they don't pull their punches, we won't either. If we have to go for vitals and fight for survival, don't hold back just because the Don said to, alright?"

I nodded, yet the tremors wracking my body and mech didn't subside.

"[I... I don't know where to go. I don't know what to do,]" I told them. Weakness slipped into my tone, and I didn't have a [Silent Heart] capable of shielding my teammates from it.

"Does the battlefield really matter that much?" Sigura asked, raising an eyebrow. "I know that the environment matters in a fight, but none of us are tactical geniuses. We've got conflicting strengths, and we have no idea what the enemy can even do. If we had information or time, maybe we could think of somethin', but we don't. Don't overthink this stuff, Yur, you'll only give yourself a headache. We need to pick a spot and turn."

Fighting without a plan. Turning on our pursuers without finding the perfect spot. The thought of having to fight without any strategy worked out in advance created a tight knot within me, one that wrinkled skin and bent muscle, a knot that made me glad this body didn't need to breathe.

It was a horrific thought, but I didn't have a better suggestion. Logically, this was the right move. We didn't have the information needed for a proper plan. The enemy had time on their side, and we would need to fight them sooner rather than later.

As much as it pained me... we had to improvise. Sigura was right.

I continued to march forward, my two confident, supporting allies at my sides. We stepped around a corner into an open street. Not too large, but not too small. It was far from an ideal location, but there were fewer people here than in other streets. The part of me that wanted to stop and assess the type of businesses and people that were around us was the part that needed to be pushed down.

"[Get ready. I'm going to turn on them,]" I told my allies as we continued to walk.

Streiphen blinked with surprise, an action followed by a tighter grip on the handle of his weapon. Sigura flashed a toothy grin, a note of surprise flickering over her expression.

The bolts holding my compartment in place loosened. They were the only thing holding my single greatest weapon back. The scabbard for my sword. Screws twisted quickly in place, guided by my telekinetic grip. In the midst of an open space, those screws flew off of my mech. The panel rose into the air as the Orcs flinched, abruptly raising their weapons.

"[Please, get down!]" my [Telepathy] exclaimed, voice spreading to all the civilians within my range. "[Take cover in a building or another street if you can!]"

Many eyes darted around, searching for the source of the voice. Those with wiser heads didn't question the warning, stepping into the closest buildings they could find or leading their friends and family by the hand, taking turns into alleys and side streets away from us.

The Orcs of Big Tooth didn't get that same luxury.

One of my legs moved to nudge Streiphen backward, keeping him clear of the storm of steel and hail of metal that erupted from the interior of my mech. Jagged lances, blades, nails and panels flew forth from within my body, forming a rough dome around my allies. Those that weren't needed for the dome went on the attack, flying forward with razor points extended, slamming into the Orcs.

Some managed to block or parry with their weapons, but the focus of our pursuers was on activating their [Mantles], auras of light bursting to life around them that increased their durability. Even with the aid of their controlled Aera, the force of the metal knocked several back, and some off their feet. I could have aimed for eyes, ears and noses, but I didn't. The situation wasn't dire enough for us to resort to potentially fatal injuries. Instead, my storm struck chests and legs, doing its best to wind, trip and disable our opponents.

"Good job, Yur," Sigura commented, her long mane of blond hair gently rising upwards from the explosive force of her activated [Mantle]. Her hands snapped out, allowing two balls of golden light to form within the curled fingers.

"[Light Swords]," she spoke, the sound allowing the balls to shift and morph in shape, elongating into two sharp gold and orange khopeshes.

"[M-Mantle,]" Streiphen intoned, taking the sword from his back. Unlike the explosive, instant activation of Sigura's sunset aura, Streiphen's [Mantle] was a gentle flow, a slow release of deep green Aera from his skin and clothes. The Aera he produced had black edges and strips along the surface, and a number of silver star-like patterns floating along the surface of the transparent light. As he swung his arms forward, brandishing the blade and pointing it towards the enemy, the light left a fading trail in the air, like that of a comet.

"[We just need to beat them, not kill them,]" I reaffirmed with my team, not missing the eyes and faces poking out from alleys and store windows to watch the sudden battle unfolding. "[If we can beat them into submission, knock them out, or convince them to leave, we'll win. We just need to ensure they aren't in a position to follow us back to the Don.]"

"Shouldn't be hard to keep track of 'em, at least," Sigura grinned, stretching out her arms and legs as the muscles along her body flexed, preparing for the battle she'd been seeking since getting angry in the shopping center. "Between your [Sensory Zone] and my [Enhanced Senses], we'll know if they're following us. With how loud their clanking armor is, and the damn stench of sweat and pork coming off 'em, I'll be able to tell if they're comin' a mile away."

"B-but they have other people too, not just Orcs," Streiphen told us, not looking away from our opponents as they began to pick themselves up off the ground and steady themselves for battle. "They have Darklings and Humans and other people, too. So... be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, they're not all Pigs, got it," Sigura smirked, flashing teeth and fangs with the action as the enemy lined up. "Doesn't mean we've gotta worry about 'em. We're strong, and I've heard way more skilled people than them sneakin' up on me. I'll know if they try to follow us."

With [Mantles] activated on both sides, the Orcs began to advance. Instead of spreading out to make use of whatever individual abilities they had, they moved like an army squad, walking side by side through the street. All of them bared their weapons, stepping forward as one. Wouldn't it have been more effective for them to spread out against a Caster like me? They knew who I was, and their organisation had seen me fight on two occasions. So why would they advance like this?

"Ready!" the husky voice of an Orc bellowed. The Orcs raised their clubs and blades in unison, all gripping their weapons with both hands. As the weapons went up above their heads, I held metal plates and shards at the ready, prepared for whatever they threw at us.

"[Release]!" the Orcs roared as one, swinging down their weapons. Flashes of red, blue, grey, white and brown snapped into existence around their weapons. Sharp lines of light fired in our direction, a collection of eight combined strikes.

My plates moved quickly as I began to craft a defensive wall in front of our group. The creation of that wall abruptly stopped as both Sigura and Streiphen stepped forward, as if to shield me with their bodies.

Clawed fingers and gloved hands clenched tightly around their weapons. Both gripped their blades, pulling them back around their sides. The pair glanced at each other, for just a moment, long enough to know that both were thinking the same thing.

"[Release]!" Sigura and Streiphen yelled back, swinging their blades. A flash of green and black, and one of gold and orange, snapped out from their weapons. Blades of light flew through the air, born from horizontal swings as opposed to the Orc's vertical slashes. The [Releases] were wider, broader, and bigger.

The slashes of light collided in the middle, causing an explosion of blurred light dominated by green and gold. The eyes of those present squeezed shut to block out the blinding glow.

Not a single [Release] had landed on their intended target. All ten slashes had been destroyed mid flight.

Sigura and Streiphen's combined [Releases] had matched that of eight opponents.

"Monsters..." one of the Orcs grumbled.

"Do not fall back, this was nothing but the first strike!" another growled to their allies, louder now.

"The child is not to be underestimated either," another murmured into the collar of their armor.

As ruffled as the Orcs seemed, Sigura and Streiphen were unfazed. Both let out a breath after the swing, still gripping their weapons tightly.

"There's three of us, Yur," Sigura told me, head looking over her shoulder. Her deep golden eyes with an orange rim were half-lidded with exasperation. "Don't just start makin' some wall without saying anythin'. You aren't the only one fightin' here."

Streiphen nodded, turning around to stare up at me with bright, jet black eyes filled with stars and determination.

"Yeah! We're fighting too, Miss Yuri! Let us protect you, too!"

They... they were right. I hadn't expected a direct clash of force like that, but they were right. If I shouldered the weight of this fight by myself, they wouldn't grow. If the crowd only saw me fighting, my teammates wouldn't get any recognition. This was the most pragmatic move I- we could take.

The enemy broke their formation, splitting up like I'd initially expected them to. Had they abandoned their linear strategy so quickly after a single setback? They evidently didn't have as much faith in their strategies as they should. It was a reassuring thought.

The Orcs ran forward, spreading out along the open street, throwing [Releases] all the while. Each swing was lazier, haphazard and hurried. They didn't carry the strength or focus of the initial blast. Blocking against the improvised blasts of Aera with my metal plates wasn't difficult, nor was Sigura and Streiphen's defences. Three of the Orcs converged on Sigura, making use of their advantage in numbers.

The part of me that instinctively sent plates and lances to help her hesitated, the controlled metal hovering idly in the air. I needed to stop doing that. Evidently, Sigura could handle herself.

With her twin [Light Swords], Sigura left golden orange trails in the air with every swing, parrying the heavy slashes of three bulkier opponents at once. She moved with a flourish, incorporating spins into her defence and blocking strikes aimed at her back without even looking. After a few moments of blocking strikes, Sigura went on the offensive, slashing and kicking out with flashes of light as she became a storm of whirling sunset light, a storm that the Orcs trying to take her down couldn't hope to tame or keep up with.

Streiphen looked less sure of himself. He stuck close by, looking back up at me with worry. Several metal plates converged in front of us, once again creating a wall to block the clubs of two Orcs trying and failing to reach us. His eyes were still on me, but after seeing the wall, he took a deep breath. Gulping down his fears, the child's eyes took on a new sheen as he ran forward, leaving me behind as he charged the pair I'd stopped.

As much as I wanted to leave my teammates alone, I was capable of multitasking. I could idly defend against these grunts without issue as I ensured Streiphen was fine. Sigura was a genius in combat, one with the strength and speed to match. I hadn't seen the younger Chimera in a proper battle since we'd met.

The Orcs turned to face Streiphen after failing to bat aside my wall. My heart caught in my form as knots of worry tightened inside me. I kept the plates and shards close for backup as Streiphen began to fight in earnest.

As I suspected, Streiphen didn't nearly have as much speed or finesse as Sigura. His movements were sloppy, swinging the jagged, malformed blade more like a club than a sword. One of the Orcs raised their club over their hairy heads, towering over Streiphen. Despite what Sigura had said, I was using all of my willpower not to protect Streiphen with my plates. Using them like that had become a reflex at this point, and actively stopping that felt... wrong.

Streiphen, still bathed in the green and black glow of his [Mantle], gripped his blade tightly with both gloved hands. He brought the blade upwards in an arc, clashing with the Orc's club. For a moment, both of them struggled, silently fighting to push the other back. Then, the Orc was sent stumbling backward as the blade completed its arc, sending the club back over the stunned Tierakin's head. Streiphen, despite his size and demeanor, had matched the armored Beastfolk in a contest of strength.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Streiphen yelled, not letting up the offensive. With all the skill of a child flailing around a metal stick, he swung the blade into the Orc's chest. Unlike a regular child, his blow left an indent in the Beastfolk's chestplate, sending the Orc stumbling backwards.

He couldn't beat them back with the same casual ease that Sigura could, but seeing him do that helped to ease some of the troubling knots causing my skin to curl. Streiphen could handle-

"[Temper]! [Heavy Blow]!"

My awareness shot back towards another of the Orcs, one with a massive metal bat cloaked in deep red light. With greater force than they'd displayed before, the metal wall I'd crafted between them and I crumpled.

The enemies were using Spells and Skills now. If they were using abilities, I couldn't afford to divert my attention and treat them like a non-threat. I needed to give this my all, too.

Using both my [Honed Vision] and [Heat Sense], I could easily jump between the Orcs in my awareness. Between my heightened senses within my zone and the [Battlefield Awareness] Skill I'd recently learned, fighting multiple opponents simultaneously was simple once my attention was on it.

The Orc using the Enhancement Magic stepped forward, swinging the crumpled steel plate out of the way. He ran forward, seeing an opening in my defence that never truly existed. Without turning my body to face him, four metal plates converged on the Orc from all sides, striking him at high speeds as he was crushed between them. I didn't use enough force to seriously injure him, of course, but this was a matter of survival and security. If he was left with a few broken bones because he wanted to harm our team, then that was his fault.

He wasn't the only Orc to rush me. The other two came at me from both sides, attempting to sandwich me. The last group that had tried a tactic like this had been annihilated moments later.

"[Arctic Sheen]! [Frostbite]!" the Orc on the left bellowed. A thick layer of sparkling white frost spread across his axe as he leapt forward with a trail of cold mist, intent on striking my body.

[Heated Steel].

The plates of metal hovering in the air around me turned red as my telekinetic grip on them sharpened. Imbued with the essence of a forge, the plates snapped forward to meet the Orc. He attempted to block as the hissing sound of evaporating water drifted into the air. The frost permeating his axe and gauntlets vanished on contact as he was struck, sending him sprawling backwards, armor scraping loudly against the pavement.

"[Stoneskin]! [Earthen Gauntlets]!" the Orc on my right roared. He was the only Orc that had put away his weapon after the initial [Release] clash. Both of his gauntlets slammed against the ground, causing the road to peel up and stick to the metal, making it appear as though his forearms had doubled in size. His fur and visible skin took on a cracked, rocky sheen.

The sight of his gauntlets brought an idea to mind. In the midst of combat, magic would grow far faster. From within my open compartment, the massive metal hand I'd crafted flew into the air. The bulky fingers curled up into a fist, tightening with satisfying force. The fist shot down from the sky, flying towards the Orc like a bullet.

"[Heavy Blow]!" the Orc shouted, swinging both clenched fists forward, using both of his hands to match my own. Deep cracks ran along the surface of the gauntlets as pavement fell away. Tremors ran through the Orc's arms as he fell to one knee. I hadn't heard the telltale cracking sound I'd been listening for, which was a good sign. Either his armor was stronger than the rest, or I'd exercised enough restraint not to shatter the bones beneath.

While he was catching his breath, I took advantage of the moment. The metal fingers unfurled as the hand snapped forward, grabbing the Orc. The fingers weren't big enough to go the whole way around the Beastfolk's body, but it was enough to keep him still. I raised him into the air, and found him extraordinarily heavier than the metal all around me. Not wanting to waste my stamina, I brought the hand down, splaying the fingers as I slammed him against the road. He coughed from the impact, breathing hard as his arms slumped down.

I caught the sound of the pavement cracking, but his bones were intact. My control over the hand was growing already!

Something heavy wrapped around my leg. My [Honed Vision] snapped my awareness to it in less than a second, a black metal chain with a weight on the end of it. The chain wrapped tightly around my metal limb. The Orc I'd crushed between four simultaneous plates was breathing hard, hands gripped tightly around the length of chain. He pulled with greater force than I expected, causing the sharpened tip of my leg to leave a thin gouge in the street.

These Orcs had physical strength, but not enough to match us. They were all capable of some basic Spells, but they weren't that developed. Between the [Earthen Gauntlets] and the [Arctic Sheen], all they seemed to possess were beginner Spells. There was little sign of individuality and progress. Were they all new to the art of magic, or simply inexperienced in combat?

I dug my leg into the pavement as his muscles continued to bulge beneath his armor. If this was a contest of physical force alone, he may have been able to pull my leg towards him and knock me over. I wouldn't let him take the fight into his pace.

My [Telekinetic Field] honed in on the length of chain, my 'grip' spreading through it with greater speed thanks to the contact with my mech. A contest of strength against my physical body was one thing, but a contest against the force of my [Telekinesis]?

The Orc grunted, digging his hooves against the ground as he began to leave thin trails of his own. I continued to drag him towards me, working to force his concentration on the tug of war alone. He was limited to his two hands, but I had no such weakness.

I let the 'tug' on the chain slacken, using my [Telekinesis] to swing it around. The black metal wrapped around his wrists, temporarily binding his hands together. As the Orc's eyes widened in shock, the massive metal fist flew forward as the chain dragged him closer, giving him a second helping of my abilities. With that second strike, the Orc fell to both knees, blood dripping from his head and along his arms. His breathing was heavy, but I let the chain slacken. I didn't need to knock him unconscious if he was clearly too tired to fight any longer.

Now that my three opponents were disposed of, I widened my awareness to the rest of the battlefield.

Sigura had only taken out one of her opponents, but the flaring nostrils and angry growls of her two remaining foes made it clear that knocking them out wasn't her intention.

"C'mon, is that all you've got?" Sigura goaded loudly, hopping from one foot to another. She'd dispersed both of her [Light Swords] now, hands clasping one another behind her back. With practiced movements, she deftly dodged every swing of the opponent's weapons.

One of the Orcs looked strange. He hadn't physically changed, but he seemed to be moving unusually quickly. The speed looked less like physical enhancement, and more like his movements themselves were being sped up. I could recognise the sight of the effect. [Haste].

The pair of Orcs, one slow and one abnormally fast, couldn't so much as touch Sigura. I didn't want her to treat this like a game or spectacle, but after seeing the groups of civilians hiding behind store windows and within alleyways, I realised it was. She wasn't doing this for her own pleasure alone, but for the crowd. She was demonstrating the massive gap between our abilities and that of the Orcs.

Small groups of adventurers in costumes were dotted around the streets. None of them stepped forward to help or hinder Big Tooth, although some of them looked worried, glancing between us and the enemy. Instead, some had their arms spread wide, keeping several of the more curious civilians back from the conflict, ensuring they didn't get too close to be accidentally harmed.

As one of the adventurers stepped off the sidewalk and towards one of the Orcs I'd incapacitated, he was met with a bellow.

"You have to stay out of this! Get back, adventurer!" one of the Orcs bellowed, rage in his voice.

The Orc who'd spoken was one of the two fighting Streiphen. The Orc he'd initially clashed with was on the ground, breathing hard. The second was fighting more cautiously, regarding Streiphen with a wary look and narrowed eyes. Each swing he took was measured, not giving Streiphen any opportunity to land a clean hit. Streiphen looked more focused than I'd ever seen him. Even if he had no combat experience before now, he wasn't flailing as much as he had. He was learning from how the Orc cautiously stepped around and fought, not approaching without thinking.

The adventurer sighed, stepping back onto the sidewalk.

It was then that my [Honed Vision] caught sight of more metal. Turning the corner was another group of Orcs. Reinforcements, and ones I recognised, at that.

"[They've brought their allies, Sigura. Some of them are the ones that attacked me in Dronrowth. Be cautious, they're real Casters.]"

Immediately abandoning her playful dancing, Sigura's fist snapped out from behind her back, striking the slower Orc three times in the chest, and once directly in the snout. The strikes moved like lightning, sending the Orc toppling to the ground before he'd even realised what had happened.

With a smile and look of renewed energy in her eyes, Sigura spun, briefly exchanging blows with the Orc using [Haste]. With a swing, her forearm batted the speedy sword aside, treating him to the same rush of fists that the first Orc had received. The second Orc coughed heavily, falling to one knee as the Half Nekari's hand snapped out, gripping his neck.

Sigura's eyes turned towards the new group of Orcs, all of whom were staring us down, glancing towards their comrades.

"Good!" Sigura called out, her pupils narrowed and sharp, smiling wide enough to reveal fangs. Without warning, her head spun around. She headbutted her opponent. The sound of her skin striking his helmet rang out through the street. The dent it had left was visible, and although a red mark lined Sigura's forehead, she gave no sign of pain as she let the Orc fall limply to the ground. "Glad the main course finally arrived. I was getting bored of your warm up crew."

The 'main course' was a cause for worry. As my focus drifted from Orc to Orc, I found myself recognising a number of them. The light brown furred Orc with the massive frame capable of creating Familiars from his mouth. The angry looking Orc with the shark tooth necklace. The skinnier Orc with the reddish fur and the pair of glowing red boxes at his waist. And-

"Nice to see ya again, Miss Trespasser!" the black furred Orc yelled with a smile. It was the one who'd first spoken to me on that day in Dronrowth. This time, he wasn't wearing the same steel armor that the grunts had worn. Now, he wore thin black clothes accompanied by green-blue shell-like shoulderguards. Similarly shining, polished shells hung from both sides of his waist, over his knees, and curled over his hands like gloves. "Ye got lucky the last time, but now we're gonna be bringin' you in!"

I recognised three of them as proper Casters with developed abilities. Now the 'leader' was wearing what looked like enchanted armor. There were nine Orcs in total, and if all of them were proper Casters... we could be in trouble. Their group outnumbered us three to one.

"Bring her in?" Sigura called back, a devilish grin stretched across her face. "Like the time an entire squad of your people were beaten by one of ours? I doubt it. Leave us alone and save yourself the embarrassment."

I understood why Sigura was egging them on, but it still made me anxious. Shadows appeared in store windows, and the hands of civilians poking out of alleyways and around street corners gripped the walls. The adventurers present and gathering ensured that none of the civilians got too close to the conflict, with a few using their magic to create barricades and walls over alleys and streets to ensure none of them made a mistake they'd regret.

"Give us whatever info you've got, Yur. They're all Casters. We need all the help we can get."

Sigura murmured under her breath. A near silent message for me, and me alone. Her eyes began to flicker with light before bursting to life in a golden-orange glow. The glow of [Insight], one performed to assess our opponents.

"[I don't recognise all of them,]" I replied, my [Telepathy] stretching out to both of my allies. "[The one carrying the red boxes at his waist provides enchanted food. He might be a [Healer], or a Syringe Caster capable of providing buffs. The biggest Orc can... create Familiars from his mouth. He fights alongside them, but last time he created a flying Squid.]"

"The biggest one?" Sigura muttered, eyes darting from foe to foe. "The brown furred one in the back?"

"[Yes,]" I confirmed. I could understand the confusion. There were three Orcs that stood taller than the others. One was the Orc capable of... expelling Familiars, and the other two stood off to the left, one with very dark brown fur, and bright pink fur. The trio were of similar size, but the one who'd attacked me in Dronrowth was the biggest of the bunch. "[And... the one with the necklace. He's capable of using Water Magic in large volumes. He can cause my metal to rust at an accelerated pace, too.]"

Sigura shivered at the thought, and gave Streiphen and I a fractional nod. She was a Nekari, even if she was only a Halfblood, and a Chimera. The idea of fighting a [Hydromancer] wouldn't sit right with her.

I knew what those three were capable of, even if only on the surface level. Part of me wanted to believe that because of that knowledge, I was better prepared to fight them. The logical part of me knew that wasn't the case, not really. Worse still, they knew what I was capable of, and could plan accordingly. They'd have had the time and variance of power sets to create a strategy.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Yeah, yeah, say what you like," the shorter black-clad leader Orc responded, standing proud with a grin, teeth and fangs on full display. "We were just on patrol last time, y'know? We weren't ready for a proper fight against a Caster. Would your monster have won without her armor and gear? Somehow, I doubt it. This time, we're ready. And we're not just grunts either. We've got Experience. If anyone should be givin' up, it's you three."

While Sigura and the Orc continued to throw threats back and forth, Streiphen wandered over to me. The boy's forehead was beaded with sweat, his hands still clenched tightly around the handle of his blade.

"Can... can we win this, Miss Yuri?" Streiphen asked me quietly, starry eyes pointed my way. "That was... really hard."

"[We'll be fine, Streiphen. Trust me, we can win this fight.]"

Streiphen turned his head towards the enemies after a moment of hesitation, his own eyes flickering to life with a deep green [Insight]. Following his example, I too used the Luster Art.

The world lit up with colour as I spread unfiltered Aera through my [Sensory Zone]. The auras of the downed Orcs, the adventurers, civilians and our enemies filled my awareness. Like I'd feared, I could see the difference in strength between our enemies. Their auras weren't as big as ours, but compared to the Orcs from before, they were stronger. Their auras were thicker, deeper in colour, and lined with texture and patterns that only Casters with more specialised abilities would have. They were proper fighters, not just trainees with standard abilities one could find anywhere.

Maybe... maybe it was a mistake to have used [Insight]. I wasn't getting any meaningful information from the activation, and all it was doing was strengthening the grip my anxiety had over me. If I wasn't so... so controlled by my emotional state, I might have been able to look deeper into their auras and gleam valuable intel, but of course... I couldn't. A [Silent Heart] would have made the world of difference, here.

"Here," the reddish furred Orc murmured. Reaching into the cold red box at his side, he pulled free a... fish. One slathered in a red looking jam. The jam and the fish itself glowed softly as he gripped it by the tail, handing it to the biggest Orc of the group, who accepted it with a nod of thanks.

That fish could have any ability under the sun and moon, and I wouldn't know. I'd fought them once before, but I didn't truly know the limits of their abilities. On top of that, they could...

"[They could be stalling for reinforcements, Sigura. We can't afford to sit around here and play to the crowd.]" I spoke, voicing my realisation to the confident Half Nekari.

She gave a fractional nod in response, calling out to the Orcs with a grin that hid the flash of worry I'd briefly seen in her eyes.

"Are you going to fight us or not? We don't have all day," Sigura called out, half-closing her eyes with both hands on her hips.

"We have all the time in the world, y'know?" the black furred Orc smiled back, giving her a shrug.

They had the advantage of time, and had no reason to hide it.

"You outnumber us already," Sigura spoke, looking towards the crowd while jerking her thumb towards the Orcs. "Are you really that scared that you need to call even more reinforcements for us? You already outnumber us three to one, and you're still waiting?"

She was trying to pressure them with public opinion. As confident as the black furred Orc was, that comment took the gleam from his eyes. His head dipped as the rest of the Orcs crowded around him. He began to whisper to his group, a whisper that I could pick up, even if a standard pair of ears couldn't.

"Listen up. We'll do this fast, get the rep and get out. Mince and Marinate, you two take down the cocky Cat. Veal and Venison can handle the kid. Belcher, Sharktooth, Red Meat, Pluck, and I, we'll take on the monster in the middle. We still owe it a beatin' from last time, got it?"

The Orcs nodded in unison, and my stomach dropped. They were delegating two opponents to Sigura, two opponents to Streiphen, and... and five opponents to me.

"Fine, fine," the black Orc spoke aloud, sighing visibly as the Orcs began to disperse. "If yer so eager to get taught a lesson, we won't leave ya waiting any longer."

Two of the Orcs stepped off to the right, facing Sigura. The first was a taller, leaner Orc, something I was surprised to see. He was the first Orc I'd ever met or heard of that didn't have a more... robust body type. If I were to guess, he had other races along his family tree. That, or a diet that included more than just meat. The Orc's fur was jet black, and a light purple scarf hung around his neck. Although he wore the standard armor of the Orcs, he wore no helmet, letting his Pig-like ears stand up from his head. The sound of metal grating against metal sang in the air as he walked forward, scraping two abnormally long kitchen knives against each other. This one was definitely 'Mince'.

The second Orc had creamy peach coloured skin. He wasn't as tall as the other Orcs, but he was wide, garbed in the same metal armor as the grunts. He wore no gauntlets, and as his meaty fingers came together, a ball of viscous liquid formed between his hands. It had the same formation pattern as Sharktooth, but had the colour and texture of cream. Marinate.

Sigura's eyes widened in shock at the pair that she was fighting against, rather than fear. Her eyes darted to the side, expression curled and coiled in anger.

"You think I'm only worth two Casters?" Sigura snarled, losing her cool for the first time since they'd arrived. "If all nine of you came at me at once, you'd still lose, and this is what you've decided on?"

"Two's enough for you, puss," the black furred Orc grinned back.

The two larger Orcs that weren't 'Belcher' stepped to the left, towards the stunned looking Streiphen. He took a deep breath, stepping away from me after one last look in my direction.

The first of the pair was a pink Orc wearing no gauntlets. The Orc carried a thick butcher's knife, but didn't have any unusual equipment. The dark brown Orc that was his partner was wearing leather armor instead, and the only enemy beyond the leader that didn't wear any metal. I couldn't tell which one of them was which based on appearance alone.

Then, the remaining five approached me. The black clad leader, the perpetually annoyed light brown furred Orc with the necklace, the enormous Orc that had consumed the entire fish in the time it had taken me to look around, and a smaller, light brown furred Orc with no metal over his meaty fingers. The last member of their group, 'Red Meat', didn't advance. He stayed at the back, his eyes on me at all times. I was right in assuming he was exclusively a healer type, if he wasn't willing to get into the fray.

I was fighting against four enemies and a supporter simultaneously. An entire team. If I wanted to have any hope of victory, I couldn't afford to split my focus and check up on the others. I'd need to put everything I had into this fight or I wouldn't have a chance. I had to hope, to believe, that they could handle themselves against their foes.

The brown furred Orc I now knew as 'Sharktooth' brought his bare hands together, a ball of water swiftly forming between the barely parted palms as the blue Aera around his [Mantle] began to flow and transform.

"[Wave of Water]!" he shouted, signaling the start of the battles. In my peripheral vision, the enemies of my allies leapt forward, too.

Metal plates converged in front of me in a rough U-shape, creating a wall to block the wave. Water crashed against metal, and a number of adventurers kept their guards up as magic began to fly. Still, their worries were unwarranted. The wave didn't spread out like regular water. Instead, it was focused entirely on me, a straight path of water designed to knock me down.

The largest Orc, 'Belcher', opened his gaping maw. The interior of his mouth began to glow a deep blue-brown colour as he let out a deafening belch. From his mouth came the head of a fish, one that expanded as it flew further from his mouth, revealing yellow eyes, flapping blue fins, and a body nearly as large as his. It looked like an enormous glowing Salmon.

Was that a Condition of his magic, then? He'd created a fish right after eating one given to him by Red Meat. That was a hint, but one I didn't have the time to dig into.

The gigantic greasy Salmon flew down into the water, flopping around for a moment before riding the rushing wave. The conjured Familiar flew forward at frightening speed, slamming head first into the metal wall. The force of the impact reverberated through my telekinetic grip. Despite the contact, the Familiar didn't seem injured by the strike. I watched with shock as the wave of crashing water suddenly reversed its flow, moving back in the direction of the Orcs as it carried the Familiar with it. For a brief moment, I wondered if the fish was going to slam into its creator. The wave rose into the air, curling as the flow reversed once again, heading back towards me with renewed strength.

It reminded me of the ocean's tides, or water sloshing back and forth in a bathtub. Was that a Condition of Sharktooth's magic?

As much as I wanted to, I didn't have the time to ponder the implications of the ability. The wave and Salmon crashed into my metal wall in unison, slamming against it with even more force than before. I added more plates behind the wall, giving it more girth to defend against the growing power of my attackers.

The wave reversed again, building up power. As strong as the waves were, it wasn't taking much mental focus to keep them from breaking through. My awareness wandered to the adventurers on the streets, creating small walls and barricades from the pavement and curbs through the manipulation of the ground and conjured materials. At least from Sharktooth, they had nothing to worry about. The wave moved in a line, held and restricted to a specific space. Was it something deeper, like my metal specific [Telekinesis]? If that was how it worked, a form of [Telekinesis] to get the waves started and building up while letting physics to the rest, then there was a limit to how much force he could get behind-

Without warning, the shorter Orc with the bare fists slipped around my wall. The Orc's fingers clenched into fists, beginning to emit a hard grey glow as he ran forward, his upper body hunched forward. He had an almost [Boxer]-like stance, keeping his form low. I wouldn't let him reach me.

Another metal plate flew down from above as he leapt towards me. The Beastfolk's arm shot forward like a bullet, slamming against the metal. His punch was strong, clearly augmented by magic, but nothing I couldn't-

I felt his Aera rush through the metal. His magic, whatever it was, attempted to overpower my own, pushing against my influence. His ability to overpower my control paled in comparison to that of Trainmech, but-

The wave and Salmon crashed against my metal wall once again, striking with a force that momentarily broke my control over the plate I held in the air.

Something within the metal changed. Suddenly, it felt incredibly heavy. Without wasting a second of thought, I released my grip, letting the plate fall onto the pavement with a resonant clang. The feeling of my grip through the metal had changed. It... it didn't feel like I was holding metal, after his influence had spread through it.

My awareness turned towards the Orc, whose hands had turned metallic and shining, mimicking the appearance of the plate he'd punched. He seemed shocked that the plate had fallen from the air, keeping his distance from it after it loudly smacked against the street.

I wasn't going to let that opportunity go to waste.

Abandoning the extra plates for defense, I went on the attack, sending a flurry of rods and pipes at the Orc. He moved quickly enough to block a few with his fists that dropped them out of the air, but I was being more cautious, now. Whenever he threw a punch, I pulled one rod away and struck him in his blind spot. Whatever effect he'd used to break my control over the plate only worked on his fists. If I continued to strike his arms, legs and back while he was throwing a punch elsewhere, the fight wouldn't take as much from me.

I blocked another slam of the wave and the Salmon, keeping my grip tight over the wall.

In the background, I saw the Orc with the reddish fur, 'Red Meat', running around. He made his way to the Orcish grunts we'd left sprawled out on the street. He got down on both knees, extending two fingers to their necks and wrists, checking for vitals.

We hadn't killed any of them, but was it right to leave them with only minor injuries? If this Orc was capable of healing them and bringing them back into the fight, wouldn't that mean our workload would increase? More enemies would rise against us, increasing the chances of my team getting injured because I wasn't inflicting heavier damage, like broken bones. I hoped that wouldn't end up being the case, but-

I felt the walls holding the wave back begin to crumble.

My attention snapped back to it, spotting the massive clumps of rust quickly begin to spread through the first layer of my wall. He'd swapped to that other technique, '[Ravenous Wave]', without me realising. The first layer broke, the metal falling apart out of my grasp, only to be swept away by the hungry wave. Had that 'Pluck' guy's attack been nothing but a distraction?

The waves began to move faster and hit harder. I worked to keep Pluck back on autopilot as the majority of my focus went to the waves. Sharktooth looked angrier now, more determined. Was that contributing to the increasing force of his attack? The giant Salmon bashing against the walls was starting to have more effect. The Salmon wasn't getting stronger, but the weakness of my walls was giving each strike more impact. At this rate... I had to think of something.

I spread heat through my [Telekinetic Field], causing the metal's surface to turn a light shade of red. The sizzling sound of steam rising into the air provided little comfort. The heat I could pour through my metal wasn't enough to stop the raging tide. The metal was leaving scorch marks on the Salmon's head, but it was only a Familiar. It didn't experience 'pain' in the same way we did. That wouldn't be enough.

I couldn't break his offense. I didn't have the metal or concentration to fight off Pluck, defend against Sharktooth and Belcher's combined attack, and send in more metal to fight them. It was just... too much. I needed something else.

If I couldn't break their offense, I needed to bolster my defense. But... I only had so much metal to work with. Between the [Ravenous Wave] and Pluck's fists, the amount of metal at my disposal was beginning to drop. If I could knock Pluck out, this would be easier, but the grey [Mantle] surrounding his body was making him too tenacious. I couldn't rely on that.

I needed to focus and find another solution.

I cast my mind back, looking for something I could use to get out of this situation. I didn't have anything in my arsenal that could break through this. But...

I thought back to our team's fight earlier in the week. To the trick that Trainmech had used when overpowering my control. I remembered the dark sheen he'd spread through his metal, reinforcing it. When portions of his mech fell to the ground and separated from him, that effect faded. He'd reinforced it.

Could I do the same?

It was an effect that reminded me of [Mantle], but it was different. [Mantle] only extended through my physical body, which was useless here. But I'd done something similar. During the fight in Dronrowth, I spread my Aera through my helmet, staining it emerald. It had been a reflex, something I'd done without conscious thought. Was it the same principle as [Insight]...?

The wave and gigantic Salmon it carried crashed against my wall, shattering the second layer of defenses as shards of rusted metal flew over the edges, landing around the street with a crash. Adventurers at the sidewalk yelled for civilians to get to cover as they raised their barricades or cast their own Spells, protecting the observers from the shrapnel.

I was down to my last layer, and I had no time.

I focused, concentrating my Aera. To make my [Insight] work, I'd permeated my Aera through the [Sensory Zone]. Now, I pulled it back, returning my 'sight' to normal. Instead, I poured everything I could into that last wall, letting my Aera flow through my [Telekinetic Field]. I'd seen this done before. I'd done it once on instinct. I... I could replicate this. Pull it off again-

The wall began to rust, a brown, rough colour spreading across the metal. With all the concentration I could muster, I pushed against the magic of the wave with my own. As if to combat the growing orange-brown patches of rust, my wall began to glow, taking on an emerald, metallic hue. The two clashed, and even if that rust was still forming... it had slowed to a crawl.

I'd done it. It... it worked...

The rust wasn't going away. I hadn't stopped the effects of the wave completely, but the rusting effect wasn't working as fast as it had before. I'd bought time for-

Another Orc garbed not in armor, but thin black clothing, leapt from around the other side of my glowing wall. The grinning Orc leader's shell-like gauntlets flashed, catching the midday light as he jumped towards my body. I didn't know what those gauntlets could do, and I was nearing the end of my energy. Even holding my body upright was becoming difficult now.

One more metal plate flew up, one similarly covered in emerald light, blocking the impact of the laughing Orc's fist. The force resonated through the steel, sending a chill along my real body. I couldn't take another hit like that...

In that moment, I felt strangely calm. Time felt as though it were slowing around me. The wave and Salmon seemed to slow, and the laughing of the Orc leader grew distant.

Working entirely off of instinct, I didn't even think to use this time to check up on my allies. Instead, I made a split second decision. If the Orc swung one more punch and managed to break through my enhanced defense, he'd hammer my real body. I was losing stamina quickly, and performing this same 'hardening' on the entirety of my mech was an idea that made my Soul scream in protest.

I needed something else. I couldn't beat him.

Once again, I cast my mind back, looking for another miracle. A technique that Trainmech might have used, or Sigura, or... or anyone. But nothing came. My Soul couldn't handle another new application of my Aera. My education on Aera and magic had taught me enough to recognise when I was at my limit. If I pushed myself any farther, I'd be in real danger.

My mind jumped from idea to idea, thought to thought, scrambling for something I could use. There was nothing in the past for me to draw on, so I needed to look towards the present.

The solution I found was one that I might have considered 'illogical', in the past. One that wasn't honorable in any sense of the word. It was a strategy that I never would have tried before today, after having seen Sigura use that same strategy to pull us from a horrible situation into a bad yet relatively manageable one. This wasn't just a battle, but a show. This was a performance for the adventurers and civilians watching, a way to demonstrate which of our sides were dominant. Both sides wanted to look useful and competent. That was what I'd learned from both Sigura and the Orc leader.

Through their lessons, the solution clicked, like the last part of a tinkering project coming to fruition within my mind.

My [Telepathy] shot through space, heading towards one target, and one target alone. A single message. It wasn't directed at Sigura, nor at Streiphen, and not at the civilians.

"[I've enhanced my wall. Your abilities are useless now. You should focus on supporting your teammates instead of wasting your energy attacking me. You wouldn't want them to think of you as useless, would you?]"

The words that came from my mind felt strangely liberating to say while being simultaneously alien. A part of me rejoiced as the words parted from my mind, while the rest of me tried to figure out what I was doing and why I was feeling that way.

Since becoming a Chimera, I'd been forced to figure out my emotional state. My emotions were a constant enemy that stood in the way of logical thinking and progress, something that I needed to be aware of and prepared to battle at all times. It was that idea that sparked my plan.

I felt somewhat dirty doing this, but I'd come to understand just how dangerous emotions were. Magic tied to emotions in visible, tangible ways could be abused, and that was what I'd done.

Sharktooth's eyes widened in shock, his mouth hanging agape as he processed my words. Veins stood out along his neck and hands as his fingers clenched tightly together. The wave receded, splashing back towards the pair of Orcs. It rose, hitting the invisible, presumably telekinetic wall that it 'bounced' off of, reaching new heights that promised a level of force and power that it hadn't before.

That was what I'd been counting on.

I matched his speed with my own, putting everything into rearranging the emerald wall that I'd created to defend myself. I was putting everything I had into a gamble.

The wave splashed over the pavement with renewed strength, cracking the stone beneath as it rushed towards the wall. As the wave moved, the wall was tilted, becoming a slope.

Now, it was a ramp.

Sharktooth's eyes widened in shock and horror, but the damage had been done. He couldn't stop it, not anymore. The wave raced along the ground, the magical force pushing the water and the Salmon riding it up along the ramp and soaring into the air. The eyes of civilians and adventurers alike were locked on the water and the fish trapped in its pull. Then, both the wave and the enormous Familiar were stopped, smacking into a floating emerald wall.

And the Orc in the process of punching it.

The Orc leader was caught between my reinforced metal, the magical water and the weight of the gigantic Salmon, crushed between the three. The sheer impact alone had left him stunned, and that time I heard bones crack.

"ABALONE!" I heard Belcher, Sharktooth and the injured Pluck shout in unison. Red Meat looked up from the Orc he was treating with what looked like a glowing meatball, his expression revealing the same stunned eyes as his teammates.

The Orc leader, Abalone, fell to the ground hard, coughing and spluttering as he struggled to move his limbs. The man's dark clothing seemed to rot and shrivel up, as if covered in moss. Even his skin had been affected, becoming more wrinkled looking. Although the enchanted shell-like armor had been unaffected, whatever that [Ravenous Wave] could do had caused Abalone to take severe damage.

The shock caused Sharktooth's concentration to break before mine, the wave dispersing out along the pavement, losing the control of its invisible 'walls' as it was guided by the natural laws of physics once again. Whatever corrosive effect the water possessed seemed to vanish as the water spread along the surface of the pavement. The Familiar flopped helplessly along the street, leaving thin cracks wherever it struck the ground. It didn't possess the powers of flight that the Squid had, thankfully, meaning it was stuck.

I took that moment of shock to fight back, pouring all of my remaining strength into ending this battle. Metal rods coloured emerald by my Aera flew forward, striking Pluck, Sharktooth, and Belcher simultaneously. Every strike left dents in their armor, and the cracking of bone became painfully loud to the senses of my zone. I didn't have the time or energy to be gentle anymore. The trio collapsed in much the same way their Captain had.

It took everything I had not to follow their lead. The four additional legs holding my helmet in place were forced to snap out, unfolding to dig into the pavement as all eight of the mech's limbs worked to keep me aloft.

I would have liked nothing more to collapse, and knew my Soul wasn't going to be in good condition after this, but... rest was a luxury I didn't have access to right now. We were... we were still in the middle of a fight.

The only 'luxury' I had was that, for now, I was safe. I had the luxury to look towards my allies and help them.

My attention turned from the downed Orcs to Sigura. She was still in the midst of fighting the black furred Orc. The air around her was blanketed in a thin, cream coloured mist. The tinge in the air radiated steam and heat that rose from the cloud surrounding the three combatants.

'Marinate', the Orc with the floating ball of sauce-like liquid in his hands, was panting and bloody, his armor shattered and melted in multiple spots. The other Orc, Mince, had taken blows too. One of his kitchen knives had been shattered down to the hilt and discarded on the street, leaving his one remaining blade against Sigura's pair of [Light Swords]. As bloody and wounded as he was, Sigura hadn't gotten out unscathed earlier.

She was moving... slower, in a way, as though she was moving through water. Whether it was an effect of her exhaustion or the magical mist in the air, I couldn't tell. The air was boiling with the heat radiating from her reddened skin, a heat that was causing some of the mist to steam into harmless vapour. Still, I was certain she was holding back. If the heat she'd been using before was any indication, she could have pushed herself harder. The only reasons I could see for her not going all out was either to trick the Orcs into believing this was all she had, or... to avoid her heat injuring the crowd nearby.

She was covered in cuts and bruises, yet still fought on, swinging and parrying the strikes from the swift Orc as the fatter Orc in the back threw thin beams of that same liquid at her, each one dodged in a way that suggested she was still trying to make this a spectacle.

As I watched, Sigura winced as the blade of Mince's knife pierced the flesh of her side. The slash cut true, pulling free a chunk of skin. With that slash, the Orc's body increased in speed.

"[S-Sigura...]" I spoke, my mental voice barely a wheeze. "[Do... Do you need help? I can still...]"

Her pupils dilated, eyes darting to the side to look in my direction. For a moment, there was fury in her eyes. That fury changed when her eyes drifted towards the group of fallen Orcs. Then, her jaws parted to let out a laugh, a sound that cut through the noise of battle, stunning the crowd and her two opponents.

Sigura said nothing, but pointed one of her blades past me, indicating the battle happening on the other side of the street.

That fury had become a fire in Sigura's eyes. I knew I could leave that battle to her.

As Sigura began to shout and speak to her opponents and the crowd, my focus turned towards... Streiphen.

He hadn't been faring as well as Sigura had. His body was covered in cuts and bruises, and the boy was trembling. His hands still tightly gripped the mangled sword I'd crafted for him, but with how heavily his arms were trembling, I suspected he wouldn't be able to hold it for much longer.

The Chimera child was under attack by a number of foes, a collection of small meaty creatures with pink skin, like Pigs standing upright. They moved in a strangely unnerving way, as though they were puppets pulled along by invisible strings from above. A cluster of six of them surrounded Streiphen, even if none were actively attacking him.

The Orc with the pink skin, who I guessed was Veal, was still holding the butcher knife, the blade stained with blood. He lowered the blade to his other arm, cleaving a thin layer of his own face. To my shock, the 'slab' fell to the pavement with a flop. Without batting an eye, the Orc poured some of his blood on the slab, causing it to bubble and shift. Like clay, the slab began to mold itself into a new shape, becoming another of the strange Pig-like Familiars. With reckless abandon, the creature charged towards the group as its master's flesh regenerated. Some sort of Shapeshifting ability.

The ability reminded me of Fareel's method of conjuring Familiars, albeit... arguably more disturbing. The injury hadn't seemed to faze him, but sweat beaded his forehead.

The cluster of dancing Pig-like monsters was the least of Streiphen's problems. Towering above all of them was Venison.

The last time I'd seen the Orc, he had been slightly shorter than Belcher. Now, he stood easily two feet taller than the gigantic Orc. His body had thickened and grown in size, becoming more muscular and imposing. His face had changed, too, with an elongated snout and two massive curled horns atop his head, horns that mimicked that of a Reindeer. Another Shapeshifting magic user.

Small cuts lined the monster's body, but the folded arms and upright posture told me he'd won. Streiphen was wobbling on his feet, yet Venison and Veal looked nearly unharmed. They were doing the same thing Sigura had. This wasn't a fight to them. It was a show. A performance. A demonstration of superior strength and magical ability.

"[S-Streiphen, I'm... coming!]" I called out, the words eliciting a whip of his head, starry eyes staring at my mech. I didn't want him, or anyone, to have seen me like this. I couldn't imagine how disappointed he must have felt, seeing me wobble and stumble towards him like a mechanical drunkard. I could barely even stand, yet I wanted- needed to help him. I didn't have the luxury of rest.

"Stop!" he shouted, his voice more forceful than I expected it to be, carrying a piercing tone that stopped me in my tracks. "It's... it's fine! I can do this, M-Miss Yuri! Let me-"

His words were cut short by a fist, a dark brown wall of meat and muscle nearly as large as his entire body. Streiphen was sent flying backwards, bowling over a number of the fleshy monsters surrounding him. He rolled and scraped along the stone of the pavement, the sound of his blade spinning out of his grip louder than even the sounds of Sigura's battle, to me.

Blood dripped from his forehead, and my heart had stopped. I was frozen, yet Streiphen still moved.

"You are out of your league, thief," Venison told him, his voice deeper than any of the Orcs I'd heard before. "Suffer the consequences."

Streiphen refused to give in, even when he should have. The palms of his hands pushed against the pavement, slowly forcing his body upright. Even with the hair hanging down over the sides of his face, the tears streaming down his cheeks were clear to my vision. Now, I wished that my vision had been normal again. I felt as though I was breaking his trust by seeing those hidden tears.

"N-nnnno... I need to... to be..."

Streiphen's hands lost traction, slipping against his own blood. He fell back against the road, gasping and spluttering for air.

"I... I won't..."

Streiphen began to rise. Not with his hands and feet, but with magic. The green glow around his body intensified, transmuting into a cloud of dark grey gas, the colour of his skin. The dancing of the Familiars stopped as the cloud seemed to carry him into a standing position, propping him upright. He gasped for breath, eyes streaming tears as he extended a trembling arm to his side. A tendril of that gas snaked out, wrapping around the handle of his blade. The metal screeched against the pavement as it was dragged along before rising, the handle floating up and into Streiphen's trembling hand.

"I won't... be... a burden..."

Streiphen's skin had changed. His dark grey complexion had become dotted with small white spots. Those 'spots' started like freckles before expanding in size and complexity, becoming a web of stars with lines interconnecting each, turning his face into a map of the sky, lined with constellations. His hair began to float as he lifted off the ground, the gas keeping his trembling limbs upright.

His Aera travelled over the length of his blade, staining the steel emerald. The edges of each jagged blade along the 'sword' were a pure black colour.

"No matter what you try, it will not be enough. Accept your defeat," Venison said, stepping towards the trembling child, clenching his fist.

Plates of metal flew through the air, moving to support Streiphen. With how hard he was trying, I needed to be there to support him. I didn't care if he needed to do this on his own. Seeing him get hurt without a [Silent Heart] to protect me hurt more than the pain of my Soul crying out for relief. The metal spiraled and twisted, flying off course as they clattered loudly against the pavement. I... I didn't have the strength I needed.

I couldn't help him.

The massive Orc-Deer monster reared his arm back, a tree trunk of muscle covered in a dark grey [Mantle]. Streiphen's own arms slowly raised in turn, the gas helping him into a fighting stance.

In unison, the Orc punched in time with Streiphen's weapon swing. Muscle and blade clashed in a flash of light. It was a clash that Streiphen couldn't win.

Once again, the boy was sent tumbling back along the pavement, yet his fingers never let go of the weapon's handle. The gas helping him to his feet seemed weaker now, less able to support his weight.

Venison grunted, shaking the fist he'd used to strike Streiphen. Blood oozed from a long cut along the length of knuckles, blood that was sprayed across the street as the Orc shook off the pain. Streiphen had used [Release] in tandem with that same ability I'd used to augment my wall.

The small, pink Familiars hopped towards Streiphen's prone form with their unnatural, alien movements, seven foes against one beaten child.

Once again, the sound of cracking bones rang through my [Sensory Zone]. It was a sound I was slowly becoming accustomed to, an idea that worried me. Streiphen hadn't yet been struck, and my awareness darted around the street, looking for the source.

"You did a good job, kid," Sigura said, strolling through the street as she walked away from the scene of her battle. The mist was quickly beginning to dissipate, and the pair of Orcs she'd been fighting with were left in crumbled heaps. The cracking sound I'd heard was Sigura stretching her arms. "It ain't easy to hold your own against Casters with abilities like theirs."

Sigura leaned down to pick up the battered child with both arms, ignoring the seven Familiars running towards her.

"I'll take it from here, alright? Have a rest. You earned it," she told him, her glowing golden eyes looking down into his emerald globes.

Streiphen gave the Half Nekari a shaky, uncertain smile, yet said nothing. I suspected all the energy he had left was in the trembling fingers holding his blade.

With a single swing of her leg, a golden flash filled my vision. A blade of sunset cut through all seven of the Familiars, tearing each of them in half through the middle. Without missing a beat, she continued her walk back towards me. It was taking all I had to keep myself upright, and as she planted Streiphen atop my mech, the weight of his body felt like I was carrying the world on my shoulders.

"Stay standing for just a little longer, Yur. We've got this," she told me, speaking just loud enough for the three of us to hear. Streiphen's shaky smile grew, just a bit.

Leaving Streiphen's trembling form on top of my own, she turned back towards the two remaining combatants, still stretching her arms. The seven Familiars she'd cut in half began to animate once again, rising into the air as if controlled by telekinesis. Their flesh began to shift and mold once again as they were drawn together, the 'corpses' of the conjured monsters fusing together, becoming a single, massive construct.

Sigura's fingers clenched into a fist, steam rising from her reddened arm as she refused to slow her walk. The meat monster charged, eight malformed arms outstretched as its mouth opened wide.

A wave of heat I could feel through the helmet shielding me rippled through the street, a wave followed by the sound of meat splattering across the pavement all around me. The upper half of the Familiar was gone. The lower half wobbled on its stubby meat-like hooves before collapsing to the ground, beginning to melt alongside the chunks that stained the stone around us.

"Finally, something I could hit without having to hold back on. Refreshing," Sigura grinned, looking straight up at Venison's eyes.

Lowering herself out of a combat stance, she loudly gargled, spitting out a glob of blood onto one of the chunks of melting meat. Her spit bubbled on contact. With a jerk of her thumb, she indicated the fallen Orcs. The only one that hadn't been knocked out or beaten to the point of immobility was the healer, Red Meat.

"You're big, aren't you? Your pal over there'll need someone who can carry your fat tails back to whatever hole you came from. You've already lost since I'm still standing, but if you feel like losing a few of your 'big teeth' I'll be happy to knock some of 'em out for you."

It wasn't a bluff, either. Despite the bruises and cuts lining Sigura's body, she wasn't trembling in the same way Streiphen and I were. If she needed to, she could have gone for another battle. It was clear in Venison's apprehensive expression that he'd noticed it, too.

The massive, transformed Orc growled, casting his eyes back towards their healer. The reddish furred Orc glanced helplessly between the fallen. Belcher. Sharktooth. Pluck. Abalone. Mince. Marinate. All of them beaten, bloody, and out of the energy to fight. Red Meat silently, sadly shook his head.

With a huff, Venison turned away, moving to pick up his comrades, not dropping his transformation.

"We're coming for you next," Sigura called after him as she turned. "You fucked with us, and tracked us down. Next time, it's our turn."

The remaining Orcs that were capable of speech had nothing to say to that.

The same couldn't be said for the spectators. Now that the fighting had died down, the mist had dispersed, and the heat puncturing the cold winter air had taken its leave, people were beginning to clap and cheer. While some cheered for Sigura, most of the crowd's eyes were on Streiphen and I. My body was struggling to keep both of us up, not wanting to fall in front of them. Part of me wanted to raise a leg and do another mock salute, but if I did, I could end up collapsing and hurting Streiphen. Our onlookers would need to go without it, this time.

The adventurers began to bring down the walls, revealing the clusters of [Guardsmen] and [Guardswomen] standing on the other side, all of whom stepped forward after the damage had been done. Their weapons were sheathed, but their hands were never far from them.

Sigura smiled as the words of the audience spilled out onto the street, words that felt like a reversal of those we'd heard earlier.

"Serves 'em right!"

"Cocky bastards!"

"Picking on a child, too! Have you no shame?"

"These are the faces of your protectors!" Sigura shouted with a powerful voice, one that cut through the disjointed complaints of our onlookers. The words made some of the Watch bristle, up until they looked towards the Half Nekari and realised they weren't the targets of her slander. "They're a bunch of damn bullies who attack the first person that steps out of line. Worse still, they couldn't even enforce their own rules. They picked a fight, and they lost. Disappointing, isn't it?"

The sound of the civilians crying in outrage against the downed Orcs added to the Half Nekari's grin. She hadn't just beaten them, but she'd turned the previously ambivalent crowd against them. She'd thrown fuel into the fire of anger that coloured the faces of all present.

It wasn't long before the walls of dirt, molded stone, snow and other materials were brought low enough for the civilians to take action. Some began to climb over the walls for a better look, their hurt, angry eyes on the Orcs littering the street. The Watch wasted no time, [Guardsmen] and [Guardswomen] stepping forward to prevent the civilians from causing any further damage. The last thing they, or I, wanted at this point was a mob to form. The battle was over, and I was content to let it stay that way.

Unable to break through the line of guards, civilians had taken to the next best thing. Alongside their hurtful words and accusations, they threw rocks, fruit and assorted pieces of garbage past the resigned Watch, striking the Orcs. Venison worked to pick up as many of his allies as he could, even as his body was splattered and assaulted with dozens of projectiles loaded with the complaints of the people.

"How do you like it, huh?"

"So much for your damn 'protection'! You lost to civs!"

"If this is all you've got, we should be protecting ourselves!"

I watched as a tomato was sent soaring through the air, splattering against the side of Red Meat's face. The juices stained his fur as the bulk of the fruit was slowly sliding down his face. Instead of speaking out, he lowered his head, ears flattening as he turned away. His two silent companions, Veal and Venison, began to carry as many as they could from the scene of the battle.

The crowd jeered, laughed, and mocked their 'protectors'. My feelings on the matter were... difficult to piece together. If my emotions followed any semblance of logic, I knew how I should be feeling. Happy. Relieved. Triumphant. But my emotions seemed determined to go against my every expectation. They couldn't stand being predictable enough for me to understand.

Instead of joy, my body was filled with a bittersweet feeling.

More Orcs garbed in metal armor arrived, but I didn't feel an ounce of threat from them. They'd seen the defeated looks of their three conscious Casters. They understood what had happened. Instead, they worked to cart the fallen away.

Even if we were weakened, there was nothing they could do anymore. Even a true 'victory' wouldn't be worth it for them now. The chorus of jeers and mocking words made everything clear. In the eyes of the public, they'd been humiliated. They had lost. No matter what they did following that loss, that outcome couldn't be changed.

"Even if these bastards couldn't do the job, we'll pick up the slack!" Sigura roared, both fists pumped high in the air as the crowd clapped and cheered back. "We are Equinox, and we have the power to kick the shit out of Big Tooth! We'll do everything they can't! Remember our names, Divastyr! Sunburst! Stardust! Homebound!"

On the surface of my trembling body that worked to keep itself upright, I felt motion. Streiphen turned his bleeding, bruised, tear-streaked head towards my helmet with a slow, careful motion.

"D-did... did we win...?" he murmured, his voice nearly inaudible.

I... I didn't know. My legs were about to give out. My body ached and pulsed with a throbbing headache. I hadn't even taken a direct hit from the enemy, yet I still felt like...

Sigura's triumphant eyes turned towards me, widening in shock. With the chorus of cheering civilians at her back, she jogged towards us.

"[Y-yes... we... we won...]" I replied, feeling uncertainty spill into my tone. My legs slowly scraped across the pavement as they spread further apart, roughly dumping my body onto the ground. I'd tried to be as gentle as I could for Streiphen, and I'd only jolted him a little bit.

Right now, that was the best I could do.

Sigura stood over me now, her words of concern distant. Even the deafening crowd sounded far away. My [Sensory Zone] closed in on itself, shrinking and vanishing. I was left in a silent, empty darkness, my consciousness fading, slipping from my meagre, trembling grip.

We... we won.