Harem Regressor: I'll Save Them This Time-Chapter 40: Ch : Melodrama.

"Are you sure about this?" August asked Sen.

"I may not remember him, but every bone in my body calls out for him," Sen answered. "I feel like I’m missing a limb."

August finished pouring salt for the summoning circle. Standing up, he sighed. Sen copied him, then shot him a grin when he glared at her.

"You remember the price you’ll pay, don’t you?" August reminded her.

"I won’t age. He’ll take up a seat in my mind. I’ll lose access to all sorcery that isn’t fire element or closely related, but lose my weakness to water." Sen began ticking off fingers. "My hair will slowly lose its color. My eyes will turn red. I’ll grow horns—"

"You won’t," August corrected. "Grow horns, that is."

"You make it sound like I will."

The pair of them stood in an underground chamber within the keep.

Fei knew they were down here, but nobody else did. The door was locked and sealed with magic from the binding stone.

The floor of the room was covered with symbols. Two summoning circles, to be precise.

The inner circle was drawn in chalk, was very simple, and nine candles burned around the circumference.

The outer circle was drawn with salt and was far more complicated. Spaces had been left for runes to be drawn with magic, and a larger one for Sen to stand connected the two circles.

"Allowing a spirit to possess you is a life-altering decision," August explained, for what he felt was the hundredth time. "And an ifrit is easily one of the most powerful spirits you can summon.

If I hadn’t already seen you spend a lifetime supporting him in your mind, I would never let you do this."

"But somebody already did in your timeline," Sen said. She smiled. "And I’m choosing to be possessed this time."

August looked away. He hated this.

"I want to help you, August. But I haven’t trained in the academy. I haven’t acclimated to Champion enhancement.

You even admitted you don’t know how many gems I might be able to support even if I become a Champion.

But you know my potential with Ifrit." Sen took his hands. "Rather than spend years waiting to become a Champion and fight by your side, I’m making the choice to fight with you now."

"I still disagree with your choice," August said. "But it’s your choice."

He didn’t know how to handle this Sen. One look into her eyes and his doubts vanished.

She was his Sen.

He knew that. But she didn’t act like her.

The Sen he knew was timid. She was terrified of her own power, and sought his comfort because she needed it, not because she wanted to cuddle.

The root cause of the change was the very ritual she was about to undergo.

Although August knew very little about Sen’s past, he knew that the Federation had forced her to be possessed by an ifrit.

Her affinity with fire and natural talent with sorcery made her an immensely dangerous weapon, and he eventually got her away from the Federation.

But the damage had been done.

Was he about to put her through the same trauma?

"You’re looking at me like that again," Sen said, her low voice low. "You need to think less, August."

"Thinking is a large part of my job," August said.

"Think about the right things, then." Sen huffed. "Look, we spoke about this. I’m fine the way I am."

August was torn.

Kadria had held up her end of the bargain. Sen trusted him, loved him, and talked about feelings and emotions that reminded August of his old Sen.

But she didn’t have the memories of his old Sen. What she had were emotions about events and people she didn’t remember.

Phantom limb syndrome was a problem that caused people who had lost an arm or a leg to still feel sensations from it.

Sen suffered from phantom memory syndrome, where she trusted August because of memories she no longer had.

For all of August’s worries about overwriting the Sen from this timeline, he wondered if it would have been a better choice.

"August," Sen warned.

"You say that you’re happy, but you don’t know what you’re missing," August said.

"Maybe. But I can feel the emotions related to what I’m missing." Sen’s eyes became distant, and she flexed her fingers. "Other than you, there’s not much positive.

Ifrit feels more like a missing limb or a security blanket. But Fei? Anything else I think about? I don’t feel that I need my missing memories to be happy."

August scratched his head. Could he disagree with her? He wanted to. Everything about this situation troubled him.

"I want to move forward, August," Sen said. "Can we leave it at that?"

He sighed. "Okay. Like I said, it’s your choice."

"Good." Sen smirked. "You know, I get the feeling you need this sort of push often. A reminder to go with the flow, or to get back on track. Did I badger you like this before?"

"Not really. You were more timid," August said, then frowned. "You used Ifrit as an excuse to voice your opinions earlier."

"Ah. Well then, this should be fun for both of us." Her eyes glimmered, and she bounced away to her designated spot in the magic circles. "If you overthink things, I’ll bop you in the head. Fair?"

"I don’t know if I agree to that," August replied slowly.

"Too bad." Her hand glowed, and she did a slapping motion in the air.

A small force struck August upside the head, just strong enough to irritate him.

He glared at Sen. She giggled and said nothing.

"Let’s get this show on the road," August mumbled, and made the final preparations for the summoning.

Minutes passed as August slowly poured magic into the summoning circle.

The salt glowed, then smoldered.

A thin barrier of smoke rose from the salt.

August smelled nothing, but the air felt charged with magic.

An overbearing presence appeared to enter the room. As if the air itself was expanding and pushing against his body.

The salt burst into flames, and the haze from the smoke and heat became thick enough to be a shield between August and whatever was in the circle.

That was the sign August had been waiting for.

He stopped pushing power into the outer circle and instead activated the inner circle.

The candles flickered for a moment, then burst into meter high torches. Smoke as black as soot pumped into the inner circle.

An invisible barrier kept the smoke within the chalk summoning circle.

The smoke spiraled together and congealed as it rose to the room. A form slowly emerged from within the dark haze.

August licked his lips. All summoning rituals came with some risk, but an ifrit was a tremendously powerful being.

Summoning rituals tended to be similar in process.

The summoner opens a bridge to the spirit world, using himself as an anchor and magical power as construction materials.

That was it.

Everything else was about controlling the bridge: where does it go; who can use it; how big is it?

Most importantly, the ritual circles also prevented the summoned spirit from escaping the circle once summoned.

While a djinni—a race of spirits that ifrits were part of—couldn’t exist in Doumahr long without a host, there was nothing to stop the ifrit from forcibly seizing a host.

A mistake in this ritual could be more devastating than the coming demonic assault.

Hence why August used two circles. The inner circle was the bridge. The outer circle attempted to constrain the ifrit once summoned.

Two burly arms emerged from the smoke, each covered in ruby red scales the size of August’s head.

The ifrit’s skin was craggy, like the side of a mountain, and thin glowing cracks ran across it like magma veins.

A demonic head emerged, its maw dripping with liquid fire that spread embers across the room. Two horns as long as Sen jutted upward, and glowing red veins could be seen within them.

The smoke sank to the ground and swirled around the base of the ifrit.

The spirit hovered in the air of the room, its horns nearly scraping the room’s ceiling.

Size-wise, the ifrit stood easily twice August’s height. But this wasn’t its full height. The ifrit had legs that were hidden within the smoke.

Presumably the ifrit had determined that it couldn’t fit inside the room at full height, and had compromised by only showing its upper half.

Not that it needed the bottom half to be intimidating.

"Foolish mortals, you dare to summon the great Ifrit?" the ifrit boomed. "I have no time for the petty trials and tribulations you waste your fleeting lives on.

Tell me your purpose here, and I will deign to consider your proposals."

Sen stared up at Ifrit. Her body shook as she tried to meet his fiery gaze.

Ifrit’s eyes were like pits into Hell, and his presence overtook the room.

Moments passed. Ifrit hovered, still silent, and flexed hiss claws. Sen gulped and looked at August for help.

"Can we skip past the melodrama?" August asked, arms folded. "We all know why you’re here, and what we want. It’s not like you have anywhere better to be."