582 Good Boy Part Two

Looking back to the Caeruleum gladiators, they screamed in horror, then in agony, as the shrapnel stuck into their flesh and bit into their bones. 

"What the... eleven-- HELLS!!??!" Lone shouted.

"(Seven hells, Lone,)" Tres corrected. "(There's seven hells, eleven heavens.)"

"TRES LECHES, can you believe this?!? Those guys stole my kills!!"

After the barrage, only two avoided death's embrace-- the stubborn ones wise enough to raise their shields. 

Also, the harpies were all female... but Tres didn't want to correct his human twice in a row. 

"(Well... those two should be enough for us,)" Tres offered. 

Unfortunately, before he and Lone could act, a team of fat raccoons rushed out of an alleyway-- closer to the humans than they were. They used... ⌈Tackle⌋ attacks on their knees, then fell upon them with picks and clubs. 

"(Loot!!)" One yelled.

"(Yaaay, loot!!)" The others responded. 

Tres bounded forward, "(Come on, Lone, we have to--)"

...He stopped, sensing that his human was not following him. Turning back, he saw Lone silently watching the carnage with quivering lips. 

He was absolutely devastated... 

It made Tres feel sorry for his sad human. 

"(...Do you want me to bark the fat raccoons away? You can tear out at least one enemy throat?)"

Lone tried his best to smile, "Let's... let's keep going? There's gotta be a good fight somewhere in this city..."

"(A... alright,)" Tres Leches barked sympathetically. "(Don't worry, Lone. We'll... we'll find something.)"

...

"There!" Lone shouted, "That's a group of Church enforcers!"

Tres Leches shook the ash and dust off of his coat, "(Ah, that's the Dwarven patriarch... Thrumondi Krakhammer, I think his name was.)"

The squad of dwarves collided with the other armored fellows... but they made short work of them with hammers and blunted axes. 

...As was expected.

"(Lone...)" The wolf whined. His human looked so angry that he was worried he'd froth at the mouth, "(You need to calm down.)"

"We'll KEEP GOING!!!" The furious Lone began to sprint, "Follow me!!"

...

Tres' human glanced behind the building side, quickly ducking his head back. 

"There's like... at least fifty guys over there," He grinned. 

"(That's too many, Lone,)" Tres Leches chided. "(We have to be careful.)"

The humans were closely packed together, all of them carrying shields and wearing metal skins. If he and Lone attacked with surprise and with a ⌈Dual Flamewolf Rush⌋, they could incapacitate at least the front line. 

However, the other humans would surround them, nipping at their heels and tiring them until they could strike a lethal blow. 

Lone peeked over again, drawing his longsword and hammer, "We can take 'em... You and me, Tres Leches... On the count of three... One. Two... Thr--"

"⌈MAGNUUMMMMM CRAAAAASHHHH!!!!⌋"

A small, blue, human-shaped figure plummeted out of the sky in a streak of gold. It struck the center of the formation with a flash of light.

The humans surrounding the blast were scattered, fallen and lying still or moaning while covering their eyes or ears. There were also... *less* humans than before. 

...Those gone probably had no idea how they died. 

Magic, probably. 

The boy with the spear slashed his weapon twice more, launching crescent-shaped projectiles of mana that cut down those that remained. 

"(Oh, it's Pale,)" Tres barked. He put his paw on Lone's thigh, "(Look! We know that human.)"

Lone looked heartbroken as he watched Pale running about, finishing off the survivors with quick stabs. 

After several moments, the boy jogged up to the two of them, an innocent smile on his face.

"(Hello, Pale,)" Tres yipped, wagging his tail, "(Where'd you come from? I request head pats.)"

"Hey, guys! I just jumped off that building over there," Pale grinned while fluffing the fur on Tres' neck. "Cool, right?"

"(I live for two reasons: meat jerky and head pats.)"

Pale looked over to the taller human, "What's up?"

Lone took a deep breath and sighed... "Nothing..."

"(We've been having trouble finding enemies,)" Tres Leches explained, before turning to nudge his partner. "(Come on. Let's... let's keep looking.)"

"O... oh," The boy scratched the back of his head, looking guilty, "Um. Maybe check that way?"

"Thanks, Pale," Lone nodded quietly. 

"(Thank you, Pale,)" Tres Leches barked. 

...

"(Watch out, Lone,)" Tres sniffed the air, "(That group over there smells like fire mana... And... there's a lot of them?)"

There were too many. He'd never smelled so many, at once. Were they fire elementals? No-- their scent was unmistakably human. 

"Wow! Those guys look strong!" Lone cheered giddily, "Finally, I get a chance to use my new Ski-- OH, COME ON!!!!!"

A round of explosions rang through the air, causing Tres to lower his body and flatten his ears. 

"(That scent... the gunnery squad?)"

Amidst a falling flurry of feathers, a flock of harpies began to circle while descending to the ground... and they carried a squad of humans in their talons. Cecil Salt was among them-- the human wearing the green Sergeant helmet. The Heavy Gunner, Mister Lawrence, was carried by three. 

"Ahaha! I heard those bastards can cast fire magic!" Salt cackled gleefully, shouting to his cheering comrades, "Looks like we outrange 'em with our Turathi rifles, boys and girls!"

Salt put his feet on the road and began to wave to the ascending harpies, "Thank you, ladies!"

"'Tis a pleasure, Sergeant!" One of the birds squawked. 

"Do well, boys!" "Survive and I'll be sure to thank you~!" "CAW! CAW CAW!!!" 

"Eh?" Salt looked over to Tres and gestured to his human, "What's wrong with him?"

Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, was on his hands and knees, openly weeping. 

"(Don't worry about it,)" Tres reassured the Sergeant. 

Salt tilted his helmed head, "H-hello to you too, Mister Wolf."

"(Hello.)"

"Sergeant Lone," Salt knelt down. "You still have your pistol, yes?"

"I... I do," Lone wiped his tears. 

"Come along, then," Salt patted the sad human on the back. "Rejoin the gunnery squad for the time being. We could use your help."

"Alright..."