"That doesn''t make sense," Elizabeth was the one to interrupt this time. "You''re saying the System didn''t exist until 1346? Even the Empire''s own records list users dating back as far as the Norman conquest of England, centuries before then, and there were unconfirmed rumours going back far further still."
"Linear time, causality, these are all human concepts; inventions of mortal minds to satisfy their perceptions, in an attempt to make sense of the world." Saint scoffed. "They are by definition imperfect, incomplete, and break down entirely as each concept approaches divinity. The System was born in 1346, beginning my apotheosis. This was not a sudden process, but one that took a few centuries, most of which I spent asleep within my sanctum near Cambridge, ''digesting'' all the knowledge I absorbed from the fallen. As expected, the entire world reeled after Diluvian; every institution, sect and coven hollowed out in an instant, reduced to only a handful of old Masters, the crippled and infirm, and students too young to be allowed on the battlefield.
Even with all the anger turned my way, there was just no appetite to start another war of vengeance, and with so many dead, the pressing issue of overpopulation was also put to rest. Thus, the greatest magical conflict since the fall of Rome ended with a whimper, as the survivors on all sides retreated to lick their wounds and consolidate their own power. Without the numbers to hold newly claimed territory, or indeed for any duties beyond the bare minimum, the borders of the magical traditions regressed to more or less what they had been before the war started. All this, I slept through, protected by my home''s defenses as well as Overmind, who was impressed enough by the nascent System to station her fragments as an additional deterrent. By the time I awoke again, it was already 1603, and by then, very few still remembered firsthand what I had done.
Soon after that, Paradox returned from her own fact-finding mission, empty-handed and very annoyed. She''d finally managed to break through the barrier clouding everyone''s vision, enough to realise that a sufficiently powerful God being born could both alter the Cycle and ruin everyone''s precognition; a built-in defense to prevent interference in their rise. My actions in 1346 consumed enough of humanity''s potential to greatly prolong the mana drought, the consequence of which rippled back through visions to the precognitives of 1313. This in turn prompted the panic that started the war, and led me down the path of creating the System that would spur my actions in 1346.
A closed time loop of the most annoying variant, one which meant that Paradox was already angry at me, even before she returned to England and found most of the Empire she knew in ruins. The two of us fought, a battle that ended with my death; except it didn''t really matter by then. I''d already finished categorising all the magic I now represented, the System was fully operational, and all my death meant was that I lost my body of flesh and blood, and integrated with my creation completely. A god who existed outside the flow of time, born through magic, war and betrayal, created entirely by their own artifice in a cosmic accident: a God of Chaos.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
As such, the System also followed me throughout time, to every one of my ancestors before me and every descendant to come after, ensuring that so long as magic existed, so too would there be a distinct subset of society who gained their powers through strange floating boxes."
[Oversoul ended.]
Saint slumped in her cat bed, blinking in confusion all of a sudden as her paws sought out a rubber fish that no longer existed, before growling as she lay her head down to sleep.
[Saint - Level 8 Druid of War]
"What the fuck." Noah eventually replied, speaking for everyone around the table.
---
Gripping her spear with both hands, Astrid carefully followed the beam of light descending from the heavens. As it neared the ground, she channeled her will into the weapon, exhaling slowly as her Domain took effect. A single beam with enough energy to last a full day, transmuted directly from light to electricity and skipping the middleman of a solar panel, capable of lingering until consumed without the need for bulky and volatile batteries. A hundred thousand sparks dispersed, seeking out phones, cars and appliances of every sort; all the remnants of modern technology that had survived in Kiruna. This was a distinct minority of what had existed before, but they were in far better shape than most surviving communities.
The remote area and frequent snow in northern Laplund meant a societal focus on redundancy; instead of relying on the likes of Amazon to quickly replace important, everyday items, most people kept spares in reserve. This meant old electronics and appliances, stored away and crucially unpowered when the apocalypse struck, bringing down the power grid and everything connected to it at that moment. Her early morning ritual done for the day, Astrid departed from the town square, the gathered crowd parting like a wave before her.
"V?lva."
Many whispered respectfully, evoking the old name of magic, ones which had declined since the arrival of Christianity; no longer an organised faith in any form but still alive in folklore.
"This isn''t quite what I thought I''d be doing, when I first received my magic," Astrid quipped, as she arrived back home after just a few minutes of walking.
[People rarely think about infrastructure, until it stops working: then you get riots.]
Her official residence was still a house further afield, but she''d accepted an apartment at the heart of the city, at the insistence of the mayor. Given that her magic now represented the sole, large scale source of electricity available on demand, the local authority was understandably eager to keep her close by. It saved her a longer daily commute, so Astrid didn''t mind. Leaving her spear by the door, Astrid headed inside to prepare some breakfast.
[Once you''ve eaten, you''ll want to head to the Empire outpost. Bookings for teleportation open again at noon, and there are slots to England available, now that Emma''s finished her trials.]
Chapter 94: Hearthstone
Chapter 94: Hearthstone
"Well, that was something?" Emma eventually managed, breaking the long silence that fell at the end of Edith''s tale. "I''m surprised System users are still around, given what happened."
"I''m sure there were plenty of people who wanted a pogrom in the 1350s, once the shock had passed and they realised exactly how the System was created, but the numbers involved simply made that impossible," Elizabeth elaborated.
"Because the System was retroactively imposed upon the world, almost a fifth of magic users were already reliant upon it for power by then. One in five of an entire population won''t go down quietly, especially when they''ll have friends and family who''ll fight their corner despite popular opinion. The prospect of a civil war, right after an already ruinous global disaster was unpalatable, so the various surviving Masters reined in the extremists and enforced a strict peace.
At the end of the day, power trumps all other considerations, and the System provides much faster growth for those who can access it than any of the taught traditions. The latter requires qualified teachers, rigorous and time-consuming trainers and rare resources at the top end. A System user just needs time, and a willingness to dance at the whims of a mad god. So of course, everyone with a voice fell over themselves to denounce Anathema''s evil deeds, whilst continuing to make use of what she created in the background. As a matter of fact, with the old ways steadily declining over the prolonged drought, the proportion of system users as part of magical society steadily increased, eventually reaching the present ratio of three tenths."
"Realpolitik always prevails," Noah nodded sagely. "Magic is pretty incredible, but the wielders are still human, more or less."
"How many wielders have you met?" Emma retorted. "You can''t have been that busy in the past month."
Noah laughed at that, a laugh which morphed into a massive yawn; blinking sheepishly afterwards.
"I think that marks a good stopping point," Elizabeth advised. "I''m sure there are many questions still, but that can wait until tomorrow when I take you all shopping."
[Timed Quest received - All Mart (Time Limit: 7 Days)
Objective: Acquire a homunculus (Emma Knight).
Objective: Acquire a set of formal attire (Eternal Britannian Empire).
Bonus Objective: Acquire a storage item that can hold living beings.
Bonus Objective: Find out how much money Edith Knight has left in her bank account.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Bonus Objective: Acquire a divine artifact compatible with Saint.
Rewards: 500 EXP
Bonus Rewards: Upgrade a random Ability and/or Trait, A large sum of Imperial money, Trait - Babble Fish upgraded to include non-humans.]
"Got any plans for the rest of the week?" Emma asked immediately, wanting to preempt any clash of calendars, given the rather odd assortment of items she had to find in that time.
"Just ongoing preparations for the convocation next month," Elizabeth informed her. "The Masters have an annual meeting at Stonehenge for the summer solstice. All fairly routine, and unlikely to deviate from tradition even considering the terminus; though admittedly attendance may be somewhat lower."
"I''ll be doing the rounds as usual," Noah sighed. "I never should''ve let Ryan talk me into becoming mayor; now everyone wants to beg, borrow or steal a moment of my time, and their questions are actually important, unlike back in Catterick."
"You''re the mayor?" Emma couldn''t help but laugh. "Is that why the house is signposted as Noah''s Arc?"
Noah just groaned at that, an old pain apparent in his voice as he left the table and shambled up the stairs towards his bedroom.
"I''ll show you to your room as well," Elizabeth offered, following in Noah''s footsteps.
It''s easy to fall back into old rhythms, Emma thought, as she was led to a small wooden room, barely more than a guest room by modern standards.
None of the other rooms were any bigger though, from her quick glances through the doors; nor did they need to be, given that the house lacked any of the modern appliances and white goods that took up so much space. Her room was nearly entirely taken up by a double bed. There were no windows, which was true of the downstairs as well now that Emma thought about it, and only a small bedside table with a single wax candle for illumination. No bathroom either, not that that was a concern these days. All in all, it reminded Emma of the wooden holiday cabins popular in the North amongst campers and cityfolk who wanted to experience ''roughing it'' in rural life.
The one sign of this being a magical household emerged after she stepped inside the room and closed the door: a faintly glowing rune that instantly drew her eye.
[Knob-head - Channel your magic into this to seal the room. (OPEN)]
"Classy," Emma snorted, pressing her hand against the rune with some amusement and willing a drop of her anima into it.
A click was heard, though her close examination found no physical mechanism of any kind.
[Knob-head (LOCKED)]
Emma tested the rune twice more, verifying that she could actually unlock it before settling in for the night. The quilt went on the floor, Emma finding no use for excess warmth when her armor itself provided enough heat simply by existing.
[Leyline detected. Set location as Home?]
Emma paused at that notification, staring at it for far longer than she did most of its kind. The room didn''t feel much like home, she thought; more like a hotel she was staying in for the night, but that was to be expected on the first night.
"Does setting a Home do anything, and can I change it at a later date?"
[There are benefits, and it can be changed at another leyline.]
"Alright then, go ahead."
[Noah''s Arc set as Home!
Ability unlocked! Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home.
Weave connection established.
Long-distance communications protocol enabled.
User: Ezzzz Knight?1!
Previous log on: 3651 BC-ERROR
You have 2951 unread messages!]
"You''re joking," Emma sighed, as her interface was flooded with notifications.
Chapter 95: Spamalot
Chapter 95: Spamalot
[You have 2951 unread messages!]
"I think there''s been a mistake," Emma deadpanned. "Unless there''s another memory locked away where I spent a lot of time on magical social media."
[No, there''s nothing like that. The Divine Conduit is causing a bit of mistaken identity, in this case. In ordinary circumstances, my account should have been deleted after my death, but well, you already know that the System is far from ordinary. That''s fine, you can clear out what''s left; there shouldn''t be anything too sensitive in the messages, since the Weave was never deemed the right venue for discussing anything actually important.]
"Neither was Facebook, but that never stopped some people."
Despite a bit of grumbling, Emma didn''t hesitate to start reading; she''d always valued neatness in her digital space, keeping notifications of all sorts at 0 or as close to it as possible. This had been a source of some mockery back at school from friends who saw no problem with leaving notifications at ''999+''; but for Emma, seeing thousands of unread messages was verging on physically painful, and prompted her to begin tidying up immediately.
To nobody''s surprise, a sizeable majority of the messages received consisted of spam. Tickets being touted for conferences and lessons featuring vague subjects like ''Building Charisma'' and ''Holistic Self-Improvement'', advertisements for potions promising a cure to every health condition she''d ever heard of (and many she hadn''t until now), and hamfisted attempts to beg for money. The first half an hour was spent doing an initial pass, deleting all the obvious junk messages that required no further analysis beyond reading the title. That got the unread messages below 1500, albeit not as far below that mark as Emma would have liked. Next up was the far more laborious step of filtering out the spam which passed first muster: the kind that led with an innocuous title but grew increasingly deranged the further down a reader gets.
"For a small sum of five thousand Imperial Thrones, you can help me reclaim my Kingdom, whereupon I can will repay you..." Emma trailed off, gobsmacked.
[Oh yes, variants of the 419 scam go back long before the advent of the internet, or even the printing press. If you were to dig in the right places, you could find clay tablets from the Roman Empire, extolling wealthy citizens to pay the ransom of a wealthy citizen captured by pirates, who would return their goodwill a hundred fold upon returning to Rome. Very little in the world is original, especially where crime is concerned.]
"Wonderful," Emma shook her head, deleting the message and moving on, though not before questioning the one useful bit of it. "What''s the Throne worth at the shops?"
[Similar to ten Pounds Sterling, as far as purchasing power is concerned. One Throne will get you a nice breakfast at a reasonably priced establishment, three for a good dinner excluding the cost of drinks. Ten for a night''s stay at a hotel, and so on. All currency is in coinage; One, Five and Ten Throne coins at the top end, and Fifty, Twenty and Ten Swords to account for fractions.]
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
"That''s less complicated than I was expecting," Emma admitted. "That was always one of my least favorites part of Harry Potter, the currency and everything to do with goblins, but it was still memorable in its own way."
[Ugh, don''t remind me. Pottermania was mostly harmless; perhaps even beneficial with the way it revitalised interest in old traditions and magic. I say mostly, because many people got it in their heads to try casting magic; including some who had the latent potential and succeeded. The first decade of the new millennium had more magical accidents on record than any since the Renaissance, and it was all thanks to Harry Potter.]
"Yikes," Emma grimaced, recalling her battle against an incredibly aggressive fungus over in Lower Swell. "At least you had professionals to deal with it?"
[Paradox oversees that department, yes. She rarely has to take direct action; but her stronger students all have some limited ability to rewind time, enough to deal with most minor accidents. It''s easier to deal with issues as they come and reverse them, than to try and pre-empt with precognition; the latter is never perfect, and botched readings can cause more problems than they solve.]
Emma chewed over that as she slowly whittled the unread messages down below five hundred; deleting the remaining spam alongside anything that was obviously out of date, such as invitations to social events in the Ottoman Empire or to the Court of Queen Victoria. There were a lot of such invitations, many repeated yearly to no response, but never removed from the distribution list despite that. Eventually, two hours into the night, just under two hundred messages remained that required actual input of one kind or another.
[Delete anything referencing Asia, cultivation or Heaven. They''re either too far afield to bother worrying about now, or currently beyond your ability to manage.]
That got rid of fifty or so messages, mostly invitations to attend tournaments and cultural exchange programs.
[Anything that makes your eyes hurt just reading the name can go in the bin as well. The passive effect denotes someone eldritch enough to drain your sanity up close, and tends to be a lot worse when experienced in person.]
Another thirty messages went in the trash, this time primarily from the Americas.
"Ew," Emma exclaimed as she opened another message, finding that someone had kindly sent an attachment of his genitals alongside a more generic invitation to a gourmet restaurant.
[What''s the name on that one?]
"Marius Kimaris."
[Divine Conduit (Anathema): ? activates, casting Curse of Vitruvius on Marius Kimaris.
For the next 13 months, anything Marius touches will be transmuted into lead.]
"Yikes," Emma winced. "Wouldn''t it be kinder just to kill him?"
[Oh, he''ll live; a half demon can subsist purely on magic instead of eating or drinking. He''s a bit of a glutton though, so it''ll be torturous for him all the same; either he suffers the full duration, or he spends a considerable amount of his wealth buying a cure. Patriarch Kimaris won''t help him out for free, considering it a fitting punishment for his stupidity. Now, where were we?]
The next hundred messages contained similar invitations to socialise; thankfully without any explicit imagery attached. Edith dictated short refusals to each of them, never more than a sentence and of varying politeness depending on the offer. Finally, there were just 20 messages left, of actual importance.
Chapter 96: Hindsight is 20/20
Chapter 96: Hindsight is 20/20
"A tax receipt?" Emma blinked as she opened the first message. "You''re one of the Empire''s founders, why do you pay taxes?"
[I don''t, at least not for anything held in my personal capacity. I''m not a dragon though; my accumulated wealth isn''t a mountain of gold sitting hidden in a volcanic lair. Most of it was reinvested into the Empire''s businesses, and administered by subordinates who do pay tax. It''s not important anyway, as at the top levels, everyone has all the money they could ever need; by that point of progression, rare items, connections and knowledge are the true currency of power. Just reply to acknowledge you''ve received the receipt, nothing else.]
Emma did as she was asked, watching as the message vanished from sight. Not entirely, as there was an archive of old messages, but no longer taking up space in her field of view. A quick glance at the archive showed over one hundred thousand messages, dating back to 1000 BCE.
"I got off lightly with only three thousand messages to deal with," Emma grimaced.
[My death was quite well-publicised; everyone knew within days, and few bothered to try messaging me in death. At least, not like this.]
Shaking her head, Emma returned her attention to the unread messages. Surprisingly, there were three messages featuring titles in gibberish, despite Babble Fish supposedly granting her proficiency with every language. Opening the first one down, the message vanished from sight before she could spot a single letter within, leaving spots in her vision and a faint taste of salmon in her mouth.
[You have opened: Hate Mail!
Status condition: Poison resisted.]
"A trapped message then," Emma concluded. "Huh, I wonder..."
Instead of moving to the next message, Emma activated Null and Void, targeting the remaining two messages she couldn''t decipher. She wasn''t sure it would work, but as she felt the drain on her Anima, both messages disappeared; this time without any side effects.
[For a creative application of your abilities, 100 EXP gained.]
"Is it a crime, sending those kinds of messages? The dick pic as well for that matter; who''s brave enough to send those to an account they think belongs to you?"
[Marius Kimaris was a young practitioner in his early twenties when he sent that message. He''s had a charmed lot in life; awakening my System at only a few years old and subsequently progressing far faster than his half-siblings, both of whom walk the orthodox path of daemonology. That unfortunately left him with an inflated sense of self-importance, enough to reach far above his station. The three who sent Hate Mail already died in the apocalypse; Marius is still alive though, so you might get to knock him around a bit if you ever meet in person.]
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
"I''m looking forward to it," Emma replied, knowing that the chances were high, if her ancestor bothered to mention the possibility of meeting at all.
The next half dozen emails contained no surprises, just questions from System users hoping for answers from the top. Emma could only see the questions in the titles however, as all other identifying details were redacted; the same applied to Edith''s replies, six of them fired off all within seconds of one another.
[Unlike the previous specimens, these users came with honest questions and no ill-intent. As such, their desire for privacy shall be respected.]
"That''s fine and all," Emma agreed, having realised something rather more important. "But if you''re able to answer by yourself, why was I cleaning out the spam for you?"
[Well I didn''t want to do it, so why not?
Best get some sleep, you have a long day ahead of you.]
The ten remaining messages vanished as well, leaving Emma sat in bed, alone with her thoughts.
"Even in a world of magic, I still can''t escape the fate of a teenager: forced to help an elderly relative with technology." She muttered, amused despite herself.
A lump landed on Emma''s head, making her topple over. That same weight curled around her neck, trapping her in place to the tune of soft purring.
[Saint - Level 9 Druid of War]
"When did you level up?" Emma complained, trying to shift the cat off of her to no avail. "Fine. I guess I could use a few hours of sleep."
---
"I beg your pardon?" The old, greying family advisor stared blankly at him, still half-asleep after being roused for an emergency 4AM house call.
"I said, draft a letter to the Amdusia Family, requesting a delay to the arranged marriage between our houses, until after next year''s summer solstice at the earliest," Marius Kimaris repeated slowly through clenched teeth, back ramrod straight against a chair of lead. "I would do it myself, but I''m experiencing a few difficulties at the moment. You will be well compensated for the work, and your discretion."
His fist clenched, crushing the lead pen that represented his one abortive attempt at writing during the night.
"In light of the terminus, Matriarch Amdusias will be eager to consolidate power," The advisor hesitated. "To delay at such a critical juncture, she will demand reparations."
"Give them whatever they ask for," Marius commanded, feeling a stab through the heart at the losses to come. "The treasurer can make the necessary withdrawals from my personal coffers."
"The Matriarch will also demand a reason," The advisor pressed on. "Lest she press on even with reparations on offer."
Marius sagged in his chair, having dearly hoped it wouldn''t come to this, but seeing no alternative way out.
"Tell the esteemed Matriarch that I am currently unfit to perform my marital duties, and am thus unsuitable as a groom for her daughter."
Marius placed one finger against his desk, turning it into lead and ensuring it once more matched with the chair he sat in.
"Ah," The advisor winced. "Should I arrange for a visit to an urologist? Or an alchemist?"
"Get out."
This time, the advisor didn''t linger or ask further questions. Marius didn''t even chase him out the door, content to listen to the man''s retreating footsteps. Now alone, Marius dropped the illusion he''d woven around himself; a substitute for clothes he could no longer put on himself. He glanced at the top-left of his vision, as he''d done every few minutes since waking up, consumed by a very old mistake, one made in the folly of youth decades ago and had now come back to haunt him at a very inopportune time.
[System penalty - Curse of Vitrivius: Turns anything your hands touch into Lead.
-
Casualties thus far:
-
King-sized bed.
-
Dressing gown.
-
Toilet seat.
-
Penis.
-
Ballpoint Pen.
-
Writing desk.]
Chapter 97: Annoying Orange
Chapter 97: Annoying Orange
Emma woke up in a manner familiar to many cat owners; with Saint smothering her face in thick tufts of orange fur. Thankfully, Emma didn''t actually need to breathe, or she''d have woken far more abruptly quite some time ago. Still remembering the futility of trying to dislodge Saint the normal way last night, Emma activated Ephemera, using a moment of intangibility to slip through her captor and make her way off of the bed. Leaving Saint to sleep on her now vacant pillow, Emma headed to the door.
[Knob-head (LOCKED)]
The door looked untouched, raising questions as to how Saint got inside. She hadn''t done anything harmful though, despite spending the night so Emma pushed the matter aside; Saint wasn''t going anywhere soon, and there were things to do on a timer.
[Timed Quest received - All Mart (Time Limit: 6 Days)
Objective: Acquire a homunculus (Emma Knight).
Objective: Acquire a set of formal attire (Eternal Britannian Empire).
Bonus Objective: Acquire a storage item that can hold living beings.
Bonus Objective: Find out how much money Edith Knight has left in her bank account.
Bonus Objective: Acquire a divine artifact compatible with Saint.
Rewards: 500 EXP
Bonus Rewards: Upgrade a random Ability and/or Trait, A large sum of Imperial money, Trait - Babble Fish upgraded to include non-humans.]
Looking at her new quest properly for the first time, it was apparent to Emma that the two main objectives were effectively free. Elizabeth had promised to pay for both items, so the only thing to be done was to emphasise speed; ensuring that both were delivered before the end of the week. The EXP gain was a nice bonus, but the main reward was always going to be the items themselves. The Bonus Objectives, meanwhile, were where things got interesting.
"Amal mentioned storage items existed, but that he couldn''t get one at the time, hence the spell he cast on me instead to grant an Inventory," Emma recalled. "So it''s probably not something easy to make, nor quick for that matter."
[There are a handful of individuals capable of such a turnaround, for a small fortune. Realistically, buying second hand is the way to go, given the circumstances. That might change, depending on how much is left in my hidden bank account.]
Emma made note of that as she reclaimed the anima within the door, unlocking it.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
"Speaking of the second objective, you haven''t been around for a long time; are you sure the bank''s even still around?"
[They were, last I checked three decades ago. Look out for a branch of Sale & Swindell.]
Emma nearly tripped, barely grabbing the railing in time to avoid a tumble down the stairs.
"Please tell me that''s a fake name."
[The bank began as a partnership, and following tradition, was named after the surnames of the two managing partners.]
"Okay, it shouldn''t be too hard to get your account unlocked," Emma sighed. "Might take more paperwork that I would like, but we can get it done. That last bonus objective though..."
[Yeah, I''ve got nothing.]
"Aren''t you the one assigning the quests?" Emma couldn''t help asking as she made her way to the dining room, finding a glass of orange juice waiting for her.
[Part of me is, but information is partitioned for sensitive subjects. All I can say is that you have a chance of success; the System does not assign impossible objectives.]
"How reassuring," Emma deadpanned, heading over and plopping down in her assigned seat.
Mrow?
It was fluffier than she remembered; glancing down, Emma found Saint staring up at her from between her legs; looking more disgruntled than hurt by Emma sitting on her belly.
"How did you even get here before me? Well, I''m not moving; this seat is mine."
An impromptu staredown began; one that Emma eventually won by virtue of not needing to blink. Hissing quietly, Saint''s amber eyes glimmered as her bulk disappeared, replaced by a tiny orange snake that easily slithered out from under Emma; returning to her feline form upon landing on the floor. Further escalation was preempted as Noah entered the room, carrying a tin; suddenly, conflict didn''t even register in Saint''s priorities as the hungry feline headed for a much easier target. Emma''s focus, meanwhile, was on the tin in Noah''s hands.
[Bastet''s Banquet: Goddess-approved food for the superior feline. EXP gained upon consumption by Cat (once per day).]
"Where''d you get the cat food?"
"They came with the aid packages," Noah explained. "Everyone fills out a questionnaire with how many dependants they have in the household, and packages get delivered at the start of each month. I''m the only one here who can read Arabic, so I get everything labelled in it: Saint seems to like it, so I''m not complaining."
"Funny coincidence, that," Emma shook her head, seeing a meddling hand at work.
Elizabeth was the last to arrive, making her way in as Saint began to eat. With a snap of her fingers, the table was set; thick stacks of pancake alongside fresh butter and applesauce.
"Eat up," She ordered, mainly for Noah''s benefit. "We''ll head out after breakfast; we''ll be heading to an alchemist first for the homunculus, then after that an appointment with my preferred tailor to sort out some formal wear. Can''t be the other way round, since I need your measurements first."
"Will this take the full day?" Noah asked, looking worried. "I have meetings in the early afternoon..."
He trailed off, eyes unfocusing in what Emma had learned was the telltale sign of the System at work.
"Never mind," Noah corrected himself. "I''m free for the day; Ryan can take care of anything non-urgent."
"It should only take the morning," Elizabeth clarified. "Though if you''re free, we can take lunch and do a bit more shopping in the afternoon. I haven''t had time for more than the essentials since Christmas, and I''m sure you all have your own needs."
"I''ll be sorting out a bank account," Emma agreed, though she didn''t mention for whom. "A storage item as well, if I can find one; I got some funny looks dragging a rubber fish over my shoulder, which I''d rather avoid going forward."
With nothing more to be said, Noah and Elizabeth dug into their meal with gusto; Saint, having already finished her cat food in the meantime, jumped onto the table for a second course.
Chapter 98: Decision Tree
Chapter 98: Decision Tree
We must make for a strange sight, Emma thought to herself as she ordered Sir Bearington forward.
Elizabeth was leading the way for this family outing, by virtue of being the only one who knew the directions, and Noah walked beside her, leaving Emma to bring up the rear. In the absence of an inventory, Elizabeth had conjured saddlebags for Sir Bearington, enough to carry the clothing they intended to buy until an alternative was found. Saint had also come along, refusing to be left behind and now draped around Emma''s neck like an oversized orange scarf.
The few bystanders outside in the early morning light gave them all a wide berth as they headed towards to the edge of the rapidly growing town, coming up to a massive tree that Emma was reasonably sure had been transplanted: oak trees, she knew, did not grow to such a size in just a month or two.
Can''t we use Dad''s storage bag, or whatever Mom has? Emma couldn''t help wondering. Sir Bearington won''t mind the added weight from the saddlebags, but we''ll lose our shopping if I need to swap summons for combat.
[As a general rule, you shouldn''t put anything you want to keep in someone else''s magical storage. It''s usually fine, but enchantments designed to store possessions can get, well, possessive. When they act up, items can become soulbound and unusable by anyone except the storage owner. This tends to happen more frequently the more valuable an item, if you know what I mean. Unsurprisingly, this has led to more than a few property disputes over the years.]
Never mind, Emma sighed. The more I learn about magic, the more questions I have.
[That''s the spirit.]
Emma facepalmed, even as Elizabeth brought the party to a halt right in front of the tree. Pressing a hand against the trunk, Elizabeth whispered a few words too quietly to be overheard. A faint tremor shook the ground as the tree collapsed inward, revealing a wooden pathway that led downward into a fluorescent blue fog.
[A decision tree: connected at all times to the parent from which its sapling was cut. A useful method of fast two-way travel, limited mainly by the fact that once a sapling is planted, the magic takes root and the location cannot subsequently be changed.]
Elizabeth and Noah stepped forward into the fog, vanishing after a single step each. Emma nudged Sir Bearington to follow. Visibility vanished as soon as they entered, obscuring everything except the path ahead. Faint giggling could be heard in the background, growing and dimming without rhyme or reason as they advanced. On one particular occasion, the volume grew to a level just shy of uncomfortable, prompting Saint to jump into the fog with a hiss. A sharp scream followed, turning into dying gurgling before falling back to blessed silence.
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Should we go look for her? Emma asked, as moments passed without Saint reappearing.
[She''ll be fine: Level 10 is a milestone of some significance, give her time to process her choices.]
How does a cat become a System user anyway? Actually, do I even want to know?
[A long time ago, a rather stupid alchemist was playing around with transformation. His potion to turn a human into a cat worked flawlessly; the potion for cat to human, less so. To cut a long story short, life finds a way, and now there''s a decent population of cats with the potential to awaken the System.]
He actually tested the potion on himself? Without, I don''t know, telling anyone beforehand in case things went wrong?
[There''s a considerable degree of overlap between the smartest animals and the dumbest humans.]
Shaking her head, Emma resolved not to think too hard about the logistics of cat populations as she kept Sir Bearington walking straight ahead. A few minutes later, a soft thump behind her heralded Saint''s return, right as the fog began to clear and the path sloped upward. Her return to reality was abrupt, emerging into a forest glade. Dried leaves crunched beneath Sir Bearington''s steps as he came to a halt. Up ahead, neither Noah nor Elizabeth were anywhere to be seen.
[As fun as hide and seek may be, we''re on a bit of a deadline, and there are few lessons to be learnt in blind games of chance.
Divine Conduit (Anathema): ? activates, casting The Dawkins Special.]
The world shuddered, nearly throwing Emma off her steed as she gripped Sir Bearington''s fur for dear life. She got off lightly, as illusions shattered like glass, revealing two ugly looking things with mushroom heads, stick-thin limbs and emaciated torsos. Four pairs of wings hung limply as they struggled on the floor, suddenly unable to muster their flight.
[Annoying Sprite - Level 5]
Saint pounced before Emma could decide on a course of action, barreling into the nearest Sprite and swallowing it whole. Its companion tried to run, emphasis on tried, managing barely a walking speed with a body unused to physical exertion. Against the apex predator that was the felis catus, he never had a chance.
"Thanks," Emma muttered, happy not to have to chase mischievous spirits through their home turf as she rejoined her parents, both of them now visible at a park bench enjoying some tea.
"There you are," Elizabeth was the first to notice her arrival, as she vanished her teacup with a snap of her fingers. "Just a ten minute delay between our arrival and yours; pretty good by network standards."
"Happy to be here," Emma quipped, turning her head to take in her destination, now that it was no longer covered by illusions.
It looked surprisingly ordinary, all told: two long rows of log cabins, most of which had queues out the front door; interspersed by trees, brush and a single meandering stream cutting through the centrepoint. Smaller tents surrounded the permanent structures, far less busy and identified by signposts hawking their wares rather than a name. The heady scents of the forest mixed with the sharp aroma of fresh onions, grilled meat and ketchup; the nearest tent being a concession stand offering food rather than magic.
All in all, it bore a closer resemblance to Emma''s school trips than anything akin to Diagon Alley, as she''d been imagining.
"Welcome to the Sherwood Gallery," Elizabeth declared. "Where anything can be found for great prices; it''s the finding that''s hard."
Chapter 99: Destati
Chapter 99: Destati
"Welcome to the Sherwood Gallery," Elizabeth declared. "Where anything can be found for great prices; it''s the finding that''s hard."
"What kind of slogan is that?" Emma frowned. "Doesn''t sound very inviting to me."
"Well, how do I put this? You''re familiar with the saying, ''from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs''?"
"I''ve read Marx," Noah confirmed, a note of confusion in his voice as to where this was going.
"That was the basic idea behind the Gallery, of creating a single location for England''s magical community to buy and sell their goods. Somewhere on neutral territory where transactions could happen, free of the typical socio-political posturing that often paralysed attempts at cooperation across the history of the Empire. Simple enough in theory, but logistically difficult. There are, at best, a few thousand practitioners in the country at any given time. Of that, only a small minority will be in the market on either end; most will be immersed in research, plying the social circuit, exploring ancient ruins and so on. That leaves maybe a couple dozen people looking to exchange goods and services on any given day of the week. You can see the problem here?"
"That''s not even enough footfall to justify a supermarket, let alone all of this," Noah realised, waving a hand at the surroundings.
"Exactly," Elizabeth confirmed. "Everyone knows the benefit of having a common marketplace as a hub of commerce, but no practitioner is going to bother setting up shop and spending time manning it, when they might get a few sales a month. That''s where the magic comes in. Those who enter the Gallery come with certain intentions; the path they take reflects their desires and brings them to when they can be fulfilled. It might be the same day, a week into the future or a century in the past; if someone has what you need and you have the payment they want, you get the opportunity to exchange."
How does this affect my timed quest? Emma wondered.
[Subjective time experienced: you have six and a half days from your perspective to get everything you need.]
"Well it''s a good thing we made a shopping list then," Noah joked, patting his shirt pocket lightly.
He was something of an outlier, wearing business casual while travelling alongside a magical girl and a sentient suit of armor; though Emma couldn''t tell who was closer to the norm, as there was nobody else visible.
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Wait, weren''t there queues of shoppers just a moment ago?
[The illusion fades once you learn the truth; a precaution in case mortals stumble upon the Gallery.]
"We all have things to buy today, so this is where we split up," Elizabeth agreed. "Once you have everything you need, let''s reconvene here at the entrance. The Gallery has no map, follow your heart and all shall be well."
With that final explanation, she turned on her heel and headed into the nearest tent, the one selling food, and vanished in a puff of blue smoke once she crossed the tarpaulin threshold.
"Oof!" Noah staggered, barely keeping himself upright as Saint transferred herself onto his shoulder by means of a flying tackle. "I''m glad I put some points into strength; guess you''re with me today then."
Emma found herself mildly concerned as Noah staggered into the distance, his sense of balance upset by a remarkably heavy cat.
[He''ll be fine. Scholomance donated him a few items, enough to keep him alive at least.]
"Right," Emma nodded. "Looks like it''s just you and me again huh?"
Sir Bearington chortled, the sound rustling the leaves by his feet, before starting to move unprompted. Mindful of Elizabeth''s warning, Emma let him do as he pleased; this was her first time here, so his guess was as good as any. The result was a slow walk down the length of the Gallery, passing numerous tents and log cabins; all of which looked completely empty, devoid of any inhabitants or belongings. The signposts outside the tents remained, covered in strange symbols that reminded Emma of both hieroglyphs and lines of code simultaneously. There were words on them before, Emma knew, but none came to mind despite her best attempts at recalling them.
Well that''s not creepy in the slightest.
Reaching the end of the path, Sir Bearington sniffed again, before doubling back, eventually reaching the small stream that bisected the entire compound. Sticking his head in the water, her mount resurfaced seconds later, a fat salmon struggling in his jaws.
Maybe I should have picked a route, Emma corrected herself, though she didn''t stop Sir Bearington from eating, or from going back for a second and third course.
Eventually, even his stomach could hold no more, and Emma deemed it a good time to move on. Taking a second look at the signposts, the previous symbols had been replaced with crudely drawn smiley faces, one per sign. The log cabins had turned pink, but were otherwise unchanged. Still empty though, always empty; though now that she looked, Emma could see dots on her minimap, green to denote their friendly nature and one inside each cabin and tent.
Another illusion? Emma wondered, seeing a similarity to the Third Prince back in Scholomance.
Deciding she''d dawdled enough, Emma directed Sir Bearington to make for the largest log cabin; conveniently directly opposite him. His first step towards the cabin turned the logs brown again; every step taken afterwards aged them by a decade. Twenty steps later, Sir Bearington entered the ruin of what had once been a cabin, the wood long rotted away to leave a single table behind made of glass and steel, upon which perched a massive blue bird.
"A customer? Finally, I was starting to think the spell was broken."
The oversized parrot warbled; standing up straight and puffing itself up; showcasing iridescent blue feathers and height greater than Emma herself, thanks to the additional boost granted by the table.
"What can I do for you today?"
[Magus Macaw - Level 35 Life Binder]
Chapter 100: Century Child
Chapter 100: Century Child
"What can I do for you today?"
[Magus Macaw - Level 35 Life Binder]
I''m not hallucinating, am I?
Emma felt that was a reasonable ask, given the giant parrot she was staring down.
[A degree of anonymity is a necessity for dealings in good faith, at least where paranoid Magi are concerned. A man can appear as a parrot, though the parrot isn''t necessarily a man. Dreams are funny like that.]
"What do you have to offer?" Emma asked, even as she wondered what she looked like on the other end of what she suspected was an incredibly realistic virtual reality.
"Only the very best of artificial bodies, one hundred percent lab grown!" The Macaw proclaimed, puffing his feathery chest proudly. "No grave robbing, demonic essence or secondhand goods here."
[Appearances change based on wording and intent, without conscious control. Lying is difficult here.]
"Then I''m in the right place," Emma decided, replying both to the salesman and her System together. "There should be an order for a homunculus for me; a standard human model for a fifteen year old girl?"
"No enhancements whatsoever?" The Macaw hummed. "Unusual. Yes, I believe I have one such model in storage; paid for in advance six hundred years ago by Elizabeth Faust. Who might you be?"
"I have a number of names, depending on who you ask," Emma replied, her eyes set on one specific line of her status page. "But given current circumstances, you can call me Anathema."
[Divine Conduit (Anathema): ?]
Technically the truth, given the link between Emma and her ancestor; The Macaw certainly bought it, given how he flinched; wings flapping rapidly for a second as he struggled to right himself, ultimately succeeding just moments before taking a tumble off the table.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, my apologies," The Macaw replied, his voice a lot softer and more deferential now. "Everything appears to be in order, thank you again for your patronage!"
The Macaw popped like a balloon, before Emma had a chance to ask about delivery; in his place, a remarkably lifelike doll wearing Emma''s former appearance could be seen, lying sprawled across the table. Tall and lanky, blonde haired with green eyes and a total lack of feminine definition, in many ways the ideal runner''s build.
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[Homunculus {Emma Knight} - Level 0]
"Pretty good attention to detail," Emma praised, running a hand through the replica''s hair.
Granted, she''d never worn a pink leotard before, gymnastics not being her thing, but everything else was spot on.
[Quest - All Mart updated.
-
Objective: Acquire a homunculus (Emma Knight) done.]
Emma almost said something along the lines of ''that was easy'', before deciding not to tempt fate.
"Oversoul."
The transition into the Homunculus was instantaneous; not even a barest hint of a conflicting will slowed Emma down as she took over the empty shell. All told, she had maybe five seconds to appreciate a return to flesh and blood, before the overwhelming smell of damp, rotted wood and mould hit her full force; her senses no longer dampened for the first time in months. Emma ended up stumbling out of the ruined shed, retching and very thankful that the homunculus was delivered with an empty stomach.
---
"Slow down!" Noah complained as he ran after Saint, the cat demonstrating the benefits of a physically oriented build to leave him in the dust.
They''d run five circles around the entire encampment at full sprint by now, and despite the incidental gains from his own levels, Noah''s lungs were beginning to burn.
"I thought I''d left basic training behind," He gasped, as the chase continued.
Saint was holding back, even he could tell; staying ahead just far enough to avoid being caught, but close enough that Noah wouldn''t lose her trail. Another lap completed, and a seventh for good measure, until his patience began to fray. Only when Noah began to seriously consider casting did the chase come to a halt, with Saint darting into a tent seemingly at random. Noah took a few seconds to catch his breath, before following the wayward cat into the unknown.
"Hello, dearie!"
[Magus Magestic - Level 45 Warden]
A massive clown head greeted him; just a head, set in a floating display case with a conspicuous lack of a body in a scene straight out of a haunted house. Nerves already frayed from the long chase, Noah''s reflexive Balefire was utterly unsurprising for him, and very surprising for his host. Saint was sat on the floor directly beneath the now screaming head, wearing a profoundly smug expression for a cat. Roots flickered in and out of existence around her, etched with runes that made Noah''s eyes bleed as they battled with formless shapes at the edge of sight. Whatever the Magus was trying to do, it didn''t work; at least not quickly enough to stave off Noah''s balefire. Ten seconds later, the clown head screamed no more.
"...Oops?" Noah muttered, staring at the pile of ash that represented his first visit to a magical shop. "Am I going to be in trouble for that?"
[On the contrary, you just killed a very foolish man. One I employed, a long time ago; one who thought my death gave him leave to plunder the very storage I entrusted him to guard. You''re welcome.
1000 EXP gained (50% split allocation).
Level up!]
Heaving a loud sigh, Noah put the surprise encounter out of mind as best he could, in favour of looking at the rewards.
---
"There you go, five hundred thrones for a standard Homunculus, measurements as follows," Elizabeth quoted, feeding a slip of paper and a jingling bag of coins to the oversized Macaw, who swallowed them both in a single gulp.
"Pleasure doing business with you," The Macaw nodded. "Stay safe out there, the Spanish Inquisition are relentless these days."
"Wassail," Elizabeth replied, in lieu of offering any information about her own time period.
Crossing off the first item on her shopping list, Elizabeth made her way out of the cabin, her sinuses tingling at the overabundance of plant life within.
"Next stop, the bank."
Chapter 101: Firewater
Chapter 101: Firewater
A few, thoroughly unpleasant minutes were enough for Emma to recover herself and stop dry heaving, the clean forest air a welcome reprieve from the overwhelming stench of decay that had flooded her senses. A glance back at the cabin showed it returned to pristine form, hundreds of years of decay gone as easily as it had come.
"What was that?" Emma murmured, hand on her throat as she felt the faint vibrations of her vocal cords. "It was worse than usual, but that was hardly the first time I''ve smelled a bit of mould."
[Your previous uses of Oversoul have been on targets that have already lived for some time, their senses having already acclimated to life. Your current body is effectively a newborn, without any prior experience to provide a layer of protection, and its first introduction to smell left a lot to be desired. Believe me, it could have gone a lot worse if you didn''t have your own memories as a human.
Sometimes, spiritual beings of entirely magical origin are summoned to possess living bodies, in order to better serve as bodyguards, teachers or warriors. As with all things, the young are more adaptable, taking readily to the possession; the older and more powerful require elaborate rituals to gradually get used to flesh and blood, lest their sudden introduction to sensation drive them mad.]
"The System simulates the five senses for Undead users, so they don''t go crazy from the loss," Emma recalled. "It''s dangerous going both ways then."
Shaking her head at the frailties of mortality, Emma went to climb back onto Sir Bearington. Her arms burned with exertion, only managing to pull her body up and over the saddlebags on his flank with considerable effort.
"Was I always this weak? I don''t even weigh a hundred and twenty pounds; you''d think I was trying to climb a mountain."
[This body is how you were at your first death. Every level brought an increase in strength, but it happened gradually over time: so it''s a bit of a shock feeling what it was like at Level 0.]
"I don''t like it," Emma decided. "Some food will make me feel better though."
Sir Bearington began to amble down the length of the gallery, putting his nose to work with a precision Emma could only dream of. Skipping the cabins, he chose to duck into one of the tents, not unlike the one Noah had stayed in whilst getting his arm fixed. The pair emerged in a kebab shop, the kind found in every town centre in England, very much a structure of brick and glass. There was no sign of the tent they''d entered from, and the entire setting was notable only for the fact that the proprietor, an old man with a head of grey hair who didn''t register to the System as anyone important, didn''t raise a single eyebrow at the bear.
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"What do ya want?" He asked brusquely, waving at the menu displayed on the wall behind him; one that included prices.
That was when Emma remembered she didn''t have any money on her.
"...I''ll come back later," Emma muttered, her face coloring in embarassment as she turned her mount straight back around.
[Sherwood Gallery leads visitors to what they want, which is not always what they need. Attempts were made to add nuance to the guidance system; but that''s a complex work, and was ultimately abandoned due to the projected cost being unjustifiable, in relation to the time it would save shoppers.]
"The bank first, then," Emma sighed, as she emerged back in the forest. "That''s actually one of the objectives on the Quest; one that slipped my mind completely the moment I thought about food. Am I losing it?"
[You''re a teenager again, with all the disjointed thought processes and impulsiveness that entails. Emotions undergo a layer of abstraction in your true form, whilst most of your previous possessions were in combat situations with a clear threat in mind. Using it now, in a period of calm, being a bit scatterbrained is to be expected.]
For lack of a better idea, Sir Bearington was doing loops around the Gallery now; which seemed to be having some effect, as every complete loop resulted in a building disappearing, popping like a soap bubble and leaving nothing behind. After all the cabins were gone, the tents were the next to vanish, this time in groups of three. Eventually, there was only a single tent remaining: when Sir Bearington stepped through, Emma found herself in a large, open reception area.
"That''s a lot of gold."
It really was: every wall, floor and ceiling was covered in gold, even the desk the receptionist sat at being no exception. The receptionist himself wore a smart suit of black and gold sequins that called to mind the glory years of Michael Jackson; their shining brilliance matched only by his bleach white teeth.
"Welcome to Sale and Swindell. How may I help you today?"
---
"How does this place even work?" Noah huffed, darting around a corner as he did his best to keep the elusive Saint in his sight.
It wasn''t easy, and the worst part was that he was pretty sure the feline was holding back considerably. Hopping over the central river for the fifth time that day, Noah was rather unprepared for a watery arm to reach out of the water, grabbing and holding him aloft.
[Greater Undine - Level 20]
"Unhand me at once!" Noah demanded, drawing a groan from below but no slackening of the oversized limb.
If anything, the grip holding him tightened, starting to drain his mana as the Shieldwall Spike flared to life, protecting his body from crushing force. Gritting his teeth, Noah stared into the distance, at a rock that was roughly his size. Then he was free, stood on solid ground once more as stone crumbled to dust beneath a grip of iron. Raising his finger, Noah pointed at the offending appendage.
"One for all."
The watery arm - and the entire river it was attached to - glowed black.
"Balefire. Accelerate."
Embers of midnight coalesced within the water, burning unhindered for one second that carried the weight of ten. Two seconds and half of Noah''s mana later, a water elemental burned to death.
Chapter 102: Bureaucracy
Chapter 102: Bureaucracy
"Welcome to Sale and Swindell. How may I help you today?"
Emma said nothing as she led Sir Bearington to the desk: the receptionist showing no reaction to the bear. The floor, too, held up without trouble; the gold not shifting an inch beneath Sir Bearington''s steps, leading Emma to suspect it was merely gold plating over something much more durable.
[Ask for a thousand Thrones from the account of Ana Gram.]
Anagram? Really?
Despite Emma''s misgivings, she dutifully repeated the request to the bank teller, receiving a blank stare in return. Thankfully, he didn''t question the name as he typed something on his computer: the first working computer Emma had seen since the apocalypse, she realised.
[The internal workings are powered by magic, not electricity. By design, most magical equipment is kept off-grid and self-sufficient, to minimise ordinary people stumbling upon it. That said, the front-end user interface has steadily converged with modern technology in recent decades. It makes life easier for everyone: instead of training employees on some novel system, just give them a keyboard and screen. They''ll have a general idea how to use it, just from everyday experience.]
"I can see your account is still active, Miss Gram," The receptionist confirmed after a few moments of clicking around. "As it has not been accessed in over one hundred years, we will require some proof of identity, and an update on your current circumstances. Please fill out this standard questionnaire, in your indicated lingua franca."
A twenty page form was promptly produced, alongside a clipboard and pen for Emma''s convenience.
It was the first time she''d gotten to see Babel Fish at work: a very curious situation where she instinctively knew the meaning of each word before her eyes, and also knew it to be Mycenaean Greek, despite this being her first time ever seeing it.
"Figures that a visit to the bank would include plenty of paperwork," Emma sighed. "Let''s get this over with: first up, full name and date of birth."
Thus prompted, Edith began to feed her the right answers, and the familiar monotony of pen on paper commenced.
---
"We''re off to see the wizard
The wonderful wizard of Oz
We hear he is a whiz of a Wiz
If ever a Wiz there was."
"We''re not even in Australia!" Tom groaned, chasing after his teacher with great, leaping strides that carried him five yards forward with every step.
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It was still not enough to catch up though; not when his teacher could fly.
"Home is where the heart is," Amal Gam laughed. "And today I feel particularly Australian."
"That''s not how it works," Tom snorted, betrayed by the slight upward twitch of his lip.
He fully understood Amal''s excitement though; as this was the first year in decades where the two of them could approach their destination openly. Stonehenge, after all, was one of England''s most famous tourist attractions, and visitors could be found there every day of the year (except for Christmas Day). That meant travel had to follow mortal norms; Amal usually arrived on public transport, while Tom would use his trusty mail van. Today though, the path was clear and the skies blue and beautiful; much as they had been back during the Second World War, the last time they had such freedom to maneuver.
Bombs, at the end of the day, relied upon chemical reactions; leaving them powerless before a Master alchemist capable of rendering them inert in an instant. That wasn''t to say the coast was completely clear though.
"Is it just me, or have the demons been getting bigger?" Tom asked, spotting a mammoth demon off in the distance, chewing upon the collapsed trunk of an oak tree.
Five more of its kind could be seen further away, churning the land in pursuit of sustenance.
"They have," Amal confirmed, squinting slightly.
Amal''s eyes shimmered as contact lenses were conjured and fitted in place, compensating for his lacking vision at a distance: something he''d had since childhood, never mind his thirties that the philosopher''s stone had returned to him. Now properly focused on the target, Amal joined his hands together to form a triangle: invoking the aspect of Sulfur. A small exertion of will, and the mammoth ignited wholesale; fur and flesh burning away over the course of just a few seconds, leaving only a blackened skeleton in place.
"We''ll have to do some cleaning beforehand," Amal grunted. "We''re the first ones here, so it''s up to us to lay the groundwork. Can''t have animals making a mess just a mile from Stonehenge.
"Remind me why we set out so early?" Tom huffed, though he didn''t disagree.
Taking a deep breath, his body glowed gold as the power of the Sun nourished its chosen. Lowering himself for a crouching start, Tom''s next step took him five hundred yards, slamming into a mammoth at just under the speed of sound. His open palm met an oversized face; his palm won, caving all it touched inward with the force of his blow. He repeated the feat on the remaining four, leaving five stains on the ground where they once walked.
"A ten percent increase in size over our two months of travelling," Amal noted. "No greater resistance to Tom''s blows; not surprising, when faced with the strongest Body Cultivator in England. Still, that rate of development is worrying: it takes heavy weapons or esoteric magic to overcome such demons en masse, and neither are readily available for most mortal settlements. The increased availability of mana is a benefit, of course, but perhaps it requires a bit more direction. Summoning so many demons bereft of guidance is just wasteful."
Floating closer to the ground now, Amal spared a glance at Stonehenge itself; a bleached white ring lain mostly in ruin.
"The demons first," Amal decided. "Once we''ve cleared the perimeter, then we can see to the raising of the stones."
Tom was good at that; the stones were remarkably resistant to magic, but not his strength.
---
"Done," Emma exhaled, rubbing her sore wrist as the receptionist examined her answers.
She''d gone in expecting mostly multiple choice, only to be surprised by several sections of the questionnaire requiring answers in essay form.
"Now, can we finally get our money?"
Chapter 103: Doubling Money
Chapter 103: Doubling Money
"Everything looks to be in order," The receptionist acknowledged, after carefully examining each and every page. "How can I help you today, Miss Gram?"
"Remind me, how much do we have in the account, and what''s accessible here and now?" Emma asked, reading the lines that appeared dead centre in her vision like a teleprompter.
"You have twelve thousand, five hundred and three Thrones available for immediate withdrawal. An additional one thousand Thrones make up the minimum deposit amount, and cannot be withdrawn without closing the account. Your account is a Timeless Vault, subject to a fixed fee of one hundred Thrones every calendar year, to be collected on the anniversary of the account opening.
In accordance with standard Empire policy on atemporal financial holdings, originally established as part of the Nicaean Protocol in 394, no interest is paid for monies stored in a Timeless Vault. In return for forfeiting any and all profit over time, a Timeless Vault is exempt from any and all capital gains taxation that would ordinarily be levied upon monies at the time of withdrawal."
[Bonus Objective: Find out how much money Edith Knight has left in her bank account (DONE)]
"Hold on," Emma frowned. "If I took money out today to pay a merchant from the past, relative to where I am, doesn''t that mean there''s now two of the same coin in circulation?"
"That does happen," The receptionist confirmed. "But so does minting more coins, and the loss and damage of existing coinage. Inflation and deflation will exist wherever there is currency; the Imperial Central Bank monitors and can intervene where the situation gets out of hand."
[The Bank employs precognitives to trace the path each Throne has taken. I occasionally give seminars to the more talented among them. Ask for a thousand.]
"We''d like to withdraw a thousand Thrones," Emma requested, patting the saddlebags on Sir Bearington for emphasis as she quickly pivoted away from the economics of time travel, towards something that wouldn''t give her a pounding headache.
[100 EXP gained for knowing when to quit.]
"One thousand Thrones," The receptionist repeated, busying himself with many clicks of his mouse.
After fifty clicks, the mouse pulled its tail from the computer and scampered off under the desk with a loud squeak.
"The funds have been prepared for disbursement, Miss Gram. Now, as this transaction exceeds five hundred Thrones, I''m obligated to ask you a few questions to ensure the security of customer funds."
"I filled in twenty pages not long ago," Emma interrupted, her patience wearing thin.
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"That was for the customer background check, this is for fraud detection; different departments I''m afraid. Now, first question, have you or your relatives been contacted by a stranger, demanding that you make this transaction?"
[No, we won''t be wasting our time with that nonsense. Stab the computer in the bottom left. Your left.]
Emma called Epitaph to her, more than eager to be done with banking for the day. The receptionist reacted with commendable speed for a civilian, tapping a pendant at his neck that wrapped him in a glowing force-field. It was pointless of course, since he wasn''t the target.
[Can I Play with Madness?
Status condition: Insanity inflicted.]
The clinking of coins filled Emma''s ears, like the slot machine at the local arcade that she definitely never played once in her life. Sir Bearington chuffed as his saddlebags sagged, a thousand coins adding a small but noticeable weight to the burden he carried. Emma ordered him to turn, keen to start working her way through her shopping list.
"A penalty of five hundred Thrones will be charged to your account for destruction of bank property," The receptionist warned her retreating back, though he took no effort to halt her departure.
[Time is money; for the wealthy, fines are simply the cost of doing business.]
On that lovely note, Emma charted a path to the exit, not deigning to respond to the receptionist. Sir Bearington halted at the threshold to the great outdoors, waiting patiently until the clinking of coins stopped for good. Only then did he take the final step, leaving the bank behind at last.
---
"The Kimaris family are postponing the wedding?"
Matriarch Amdusias was rarely caught off guard in the conduct of her business. That came with the territory of ruling one of England''s oldest magical families: in her service, a sprawling information network worked day and night to detect any threat to her family, be they foreign or domestic. If there had been any inkling of cold feet amongst the Kimaris, she would have already received a report of it: servants loved to gossip, and hers was an authority over all words written or spoken. Unfortunately, an intelligence apparatus fell short of true precognition, and it was still possible to be taken by surprise.
"Unplanned then," The Matriarch concluded. "A setback Patriarch Kimaris does not believe can be set right in time, or rather, it will take more time to fix than the previous calendar allowed for. An injury perhaps? Or an illness. Demonic blood makes us resistant to such things, but that''s far from absolute."
Crumpling the letter in her hands, the Matriarch tossed it in the shredder her office kept at all times for sensitive material. The timing was poor to put it mildly; the aftermath of the terminus was an excellent time to conceive, and the longer the delay the less benefit any children would gain from the ambient mana in the air. Her first instinct was to rush for the Kimaris manor, barging through the door to demand answers. Caution stayed her hand in the end though; charging into the unknown was a risky proposition, and if Marius was ill with something strong enough to put a demon under, then that would just be the height of foolishness.
"You have to fix this!" Her daughter demanded, hands on hips in a rather shocking breach of decorum.
The Matriarch couldn''t blame her daughter though; not after the time and effort the latter had spent perfecting the Black Widow formation. There was only a small window of opportunity for it to be used to ensnare and consume the soul of the unwitting groom; by the next Summer Solstice all would be lost.
"...Prepare the summoning circle. Issue a hunt for feral demons, we''ll need at least thirteen times thirteen by dawn. There''s no time to skimp, we''ll use our best rite of divination."
It wasn''t paranoia when everyone truly was out to get her, and she hadn''t survived in her prestigious position for three centuries by being careless. Someone was doing their best to throw a spanner in the works, and the Matriarch vowed to find them.
Chapter 104: Monkey Business
Chapter 104: Monkey Business
"Let''s go get the storage item next," Emma decided, watching from Sir Bearington''s back as the bank faded into the distance, replaced once more with the idyllic scenery of the Sherwood Gallery.
[No complaints here; the jingling of coins is pleasant in short doses, less so as a constant reminder of every step taken.]
"Yeah, I honestly prefer the crackling flames over the jingling," Emma replied absently, then processed what she''d said.
Spinning around to face the front once more, Emma found the entire river up in flames, burning pitch black in a scene that reminded her of videos taken amidst oil spills.
"Ew."
The flames were clearly unnatural, and the less said about the smell wafting from the plumes the better. Emma reached for Null and Void, feeling the familiar drain as five percent of her anima went up in smoke. A small stretch of fire faded, barely wide enough for Sir Bearington to pass were he so inclined.
[The spell that caused this has run its course. The remaining flames are sustained by magic running wild; its never easy, cleaning up these messes.]
A faint tremor rocked the ground; as dirt and gravel rose up to smother another section to the left. Squinting, Emma could barely make out Saint as the cat darted to and fro, commanding the earth to do her bidding. On the right, Noah clutched a staff tight in both hands, doing his best Gandalf impression. The nearest flames were being hoovered up, a far slower but more consistent process compared to Saint''s evocations.
"The hell happened here?" Emma wondered, as she activated Null and Void again and again, adding her own efforts to fight the fire.
In another departure from her undead state, each cast added a small but noticeable level of fatigue to her homunculus body. After the fifth cast, Emma felt like she''d just finished a class of PE. By the tenth cast she was wobbling in place, and her vision was greying by the fifteenth. Thankfully, that was enough for the trio to beat back the last of the flames, leaving the central clearing charred but the surrounding buildings intact.
[100 EXP gained, for helping save Noah from a hefty repair bill.]
Indeed, Noah looked rather sheepish as the trio reconvened, Saint taking a running leap to land on the back of his neck.
"Thanks for the help; that was the first time I used all my abilities together with Balefire. I wasn''t expecting the flames to be quite so stubborn."
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"What were you even fighting?" Emma had to ask. "It''s been completely peaceful on our end until now."
"I''m honestly not sure. A big water elemental grabbed me as I was crossing the river; the name just read Undine though, no fancy title or even a proper name like most people have."
"Not intelligent enough to qualify?" Emma mused. "Or maybe a summoned being, similar to Antipode."
[Now that''s strange, Noah hasn''t been active long enough to mortally offend anyone, nor is he well known enough for enemies of mine to target. Most Water mages don''t venture this far inland either, preferring to live by the coast for obvious reasons. Eh, I''ve assigned him a quest to track down the summoner; it can be a learning experience.]
Emma waited patiently as Noah digested the details of his quest, culminating in a small burst of energy she barely felt.
[Noah Knight - Level 15 Invoker (Forbidden Arts)]
"I feel a bit inadequate; three levels behind when I''ve been doing this for longer."
[The more powerful classes have more stringent levelling requirements. An Invoker can grow steadily just by reading magical texts, but he won''t receive the same opportunities you will as my Apostle.]
"Well, that''s me done for the day," Noah declared happily, in a very fine mood after leveling up. "What''s left on your shopping list?"
"A storage item, some fancy clothes, and a ¦È¦Å?¦Ê? ¦Ë¦Å?¦×¦Á¦Í¦Ï for Saint."
"What was that last one?"
"A Divine Relic for Saint," Emma repeated, making an effort to speak in English this time.
"Huh," Noah stared at her, bemused.
"All I had to find were a load of books, and a set of robes; nothing special, if you don''t count being ambushed. Well, might as well stick together for the home stretch. Maybe we can all meet up once we''re done. Hopefully Liz is having an easier time of it than us."
---
Elizabeth grimaced as her talisman crumpled to dust the moment she affixed it to the wooden cup. Grade A talisman paper didn''t come cheap, and fresh, stasis-sealed Wendigo blood went for over five hundred Thrones an ounce. It would have been well worth the expenditure though, had her gambit proven successful. Three identical cups continued to taunt her, indistinguishable in every way except for a single ball hidden under one of the cups.
"Lift a cup at your discretion, one cup only. Find the ball and your item is free; reveal empty air and pay twice the price."
The animatronic monkey sat behind the cups on the table repeated the same warning as it had, every five minutes without fail. These were hardly the highest stakes Elizabeth had faced in her decades long career as a magical girl, but that didn''t make it any easier to swallow. Fifty thousand Thrones represented a decent chunk of her savings to date; one hundred thousand, if she lost the game, would consume a big majority.
Thankfully, there was no time limit to this carnival game; the creator was a bored Master who enjoyed seeing novel applications of magic, and would happily give a king''s ransom away to anyone who impressed him (or were simply lucky, and thus proved that Fate was on their side). Elizabeth was far too jaded to trust her hard-earned wages to a one-in-three chance however, so the game continued.
"Simultaneous lifting of all three cups failed; telekinesis simply doesn''t grip the surface at all. Penetrative vision sees only darkness and eyeballs, general diagnostics can''t spot the difference. The monkey is ethereal and can''t be interacted with at all; but it keeps repeating the same warning even though I''ve been here for over an hour and it should damn well recognise that nobody else needs a refresher. I''m missing something here, I just know it."
Chapter 105: Crystal Clear
Chapter 105: Crystal Clear
Mortality is overrated, Emma decided, as she struggled to stay awake atop Sir Bearington''s back.
Apparently, bodies of flesh and blood weren''t suited to loss of anima; nor did the side-effects dissipate even after regeneration had taken place. Whilst mental fatigue still accumulated over time as a suit of armor, that timescale was usually measured in days, not minutes.
The Sherwood Gallery was also being uncooperative; every tent and cabin the party encountered proving devoid of life. There were no traps, nor any further attacks, for all of Noah''s vigilance as he took the lead, confident in the defences provided by the magical items on his person. There simply wasn''t anything of note, except for the artwork scattered in each abode, depicting a young girl in a white sundress, pouting at the viewer. Unable to find a shop, they were reduced to wandering in circles, looking for a change in circumstances.
"I think the Gallery is mad at us," Noah concluded after encountering the tenth such item, this time an old, black and white photograph; the girl, as ever, remained unchanged.
"I don''t see why we''re being blamed," Emma protested, a touch indignant. "None of us have started any fights; we can''t be held responsible for people coming after us."
"Woah, hold on!"
Noah staggered suddenly as Saint launched herself off of him, darting forward to a patch of dirt that looked no different from any other, and beginning to dig. Saint''s paws gouged small furrows into the ground, keeping at it until she''d dug a hole that could fit her head comfortably. Then she turned around, met Emma''s eyes and hopped in place.
"I saw you moving large amounts of earth to firefight earlier. You''re more than capable of opening a big hole in the ground."
Saint stared a bit longer, then reared back and yawned, falling to the floor and curling up to sleep. Emma stared back, but sadly, she possessed no power to burn with her gaze alone; Saint even began to snore mockingly, the little rascal.
"Lazy cat," Emma laughed, shaking her head slightly. "Dad, can you move her out of the way? I''ll take over the digging."
After a brief lull, during which Noah lifted the sleeping feline back onto his shoulders and away for the target, Emma got to work. Sir Bearington withdrew into her soul for a nap of his own, allowing the Earthbound Immortal to take the field. An earthen platform sprouted from below, large enough to catch both Emma and the coin-filled saddlebags before either hit the ground. A bit more focus moulded the flat surface into a mobile throne, allowing Emma to recline comfortably; because she was tired, and why bother walking when she had servants for that?
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Only when her possessions and personal comfort were secured did Emma turn to the objective; the ground parting to form a smooth ramp descending into the darkness. Noah took the lead again, showing that he could in fact conjure ordinary orange flames; not particularly powerful but a capable substitute for a torch, with Emma right behind him and her summon bringing up the rear. With that, the party set off down into the unknown.
---
Pevensey, historically, was a quiet little village in East Sussex. Located just a mile inland from England''s southern coast, and the small seaside resort at the bay. A far cry from the bustling tourism at the water''s edge, barely three thousand souls called Pevensey home: comprised primarily of those fifty and over, the majority of residents having retired outright. Pastimes included sailing, cricket and golf; and the village itself hosted a number of amenities for visitors on the way to the historic Pevensey Castle.
Built during the era of the Roman empire, and left in ruins for most of the time since; any passing locals would have been shocked to see the transformation presently underway. There were none, of course, because the elderly and infirm generally struggled against tides of demons that came by night, but it was the thought that counted. Because where once lay weathered foundations of common stone, now stood a towering edifice of black steel and stained glass, more than thrice the height of the structure it displaced, wiping away stone, grass and any unfortunates to have used the castle as a nesting ground. Sunlight caught upon beautiful frescoes, reflected into searing beams that scoured demons near and far, clearing the way unto the distant horizon.
All this, Overmind observed from her bedroom window with mounting satisfaction, as long-dormant safeguards returned to life smoothly, anchoring the castle to the mortal world.
"Despite the surprise, the terminus wasn''t all bad. I never liked the idea of hiding away from mortals; now, the threat of their science has died, and magic reigns again."
Turning away from the view outside, Overmind returned her attention to the tower''s interior. Only three weeks remained until the Solstice, and there was plenty of cleaning to be done before the first ball.
---
"Well I''ll be damned, would you look at that?" Noah exclaimed, the fire in his hands fading as he brought an end to twenty minutes spent walking in silence.
Emma couldn''t help but agree; she''d seen more than her fair share of oddity in the past months, but that did nothing to lessen the sight before her. A beautiful grotto, filled with glowing crystals on walls, floor and ceiling, just pure iridescent splendour as far as the eye could see. Every hue of the rainbow was out in force, and if she squinted Emma thought she could just about make out faces hidden within the light. The one, sole concession to human manufacture occupied the centre of the grotto; a large brass bowl labelled ''donations'', recessed into the floor.
[There are many ways to make a storage item, but one of the most common and enduring is to carve them out of crystal. The requirements are exacting, and making the right selection is critical. Offer five hundred Thrones, and the negotiations can begin.]
Chapter 106: Gacha Impact
Chapter 106: Gacha Impact
"If you say so," Emma agreed dubiously.
A wave of her hand sent out the required command; as one of two saddlebags floated over to the grotto''s heart. The earthen platform carrying it crumbled away to dust, dropping the saddlebag and its contents alike into the bowl in the floor. Nothing happened.
[You need to be at the bowl as well, to be registered as a buyer.]
Emma floated over in due course, Noah walking beside her platform; which did not crumble, but rather kept her floating at waist height, her feet barely touching the floor. She stared down at the saddlebag in the bowl: still nothing.
"Welcome, honoured customers, to Crystal''s Crystal Emporium!"
Emma jolted in place as a peppy girl''s voice filled the room, bouncing off the gathered crystals to produce a most peculiar acoustic effect; akin to Emma''s one and only visit to an opera hall as part of a school trip.
"Thank you for paying the entry fee! For five hundred Thrones, you''ve purchased a Crystalline Core! What does it do? Nothing at all!"
The donation bowl flickered as both saddlebag and coins alike vanished, to be replaced with a glowing blue sphere twice the size of Emma''s head. A glance around the grotto saw no signs of change; none of the visible crystals showing evidence of a newly made hole.
"Now we get to the fun part, where we shape the core into a magical item fit for a king! For every donation added to the bowl, you get a selection of three attributes, from which you can choose one. You can do this up to five times; when you''ve had enough or selected five attributes, the finalised product will be available for creation! If you don''t like what you''ve gotten? Well you can re-roll your core to start from scratch, for an additional fee.
Donations are fifty Thrones per attribute, while replacement cores are a thousand Thrones each. No refunds!"
"That''s pricey," Noah winced. "I''ve earned a bit of coin from my salary as Mayor, but spent most of it already. I''ve got five hundred Thrones on hand if you need though."
"Maybe we should''ve withdrawn more at the bank..."
[It''s fine, they accept promissory notes too, if it comes to that.]
What do you mean, if? Emma thought, her hand hovering over the remaining saddlebag. Are you unable to see the outcome?
[I can force my sight through to identify the random seed, what I can''t do is hide what I''m doing, not here. The moment Crystal detects my intrusion, our Crystalline Core self-destructs: at which point we''re both out of the money and blacklisted from her services.]
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"So it''s completely random then," Emma sighed. "Alright, let''s give this a spin then."
Reaching into the saddlebag, Emma counted out fifty thrones (helpfully bound into stacks of ten apiece) and tossed them into the bowl. The coins vanished upon contact, while three clay tablets appeared in front of Emma, filled with an unfamiliar language that the System helpfully identified as Tamil.
"So what happens if a customer comes here without the ability to read a foreign language they''ve never seen before?" Noah asked, staring at the tablets in mild confusion.
[Then they get to pick at random, or write off five hundred and fifty Thrones, leave and come back with a translator.]
Emma, thankfully, had her System-granted fluency to rely on, though that only made the choices legible and did nothing to guide her actual decision.
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Crystalline Core:
Compact: Your Core is unusually small, reducing total storage volume. Your Core is efficient; there is no delay in item deposit or withdrawal.
Expansive: Your Core is unusually large, significantly increasing total storage volume. Size impacts efficiency; item deposit or withdrawal takes five seconds to execute.
Unstable: Your Core is unstable, emitting significant magical bleed-off inside the storage space. Magical items stored within recharge over time. A very small chance for each item deposit or withdrawal action to fail, locking the storage for five minutes.]
"Any chance I can get some specific numbers for these Attributes?" Emma asked hopefully, after reading them aloud for Noah''s benefit.
A fourth, smaller tablet appeared; this time bereft of writing and displaying only something both father and daughter could instantly understand: an exquisitely drawn hand with its middle finger raised.
"Yeah, that''s what I thought," Emma sighed.
---
Elizabeth had spent ten hours now at the hidden cup game, and she was rapidly approaching her wit''s end. All her attempts to reach the Monkey with her magic had failed utterly; it was as if he didn''t exist, just an untouchable ghost with an annoyingly repetitive voice. Likewise, she''d emptied her stock of talismans for detection, warding, scrying and even exorcism all to no avail. Her expenditure at this point had exceeded ten thousand Thrones, and she had nothing to show for it except waste and frustration.
"Lift a cup at your discretion, one cup only. Find the ball and your item is free; reveal empty air and pay twice the price."
Another five minutes had passed, prompting the Monkey to repeat a warning that Elizabeth could recite in her sleep by now. Elizabeth was running out of options, save for risking it all on the roll. Biting her lip, she decided to try one last gambit before calling it quits. Slicing her thumb open with her nail, Elizabeth let a single drop of blood fall. It made it half a foot before dispersing, taking on the amorphous shape of a starfish with a cartoon face drawn on it.
"Contractor, I''m calling in the favour you owe me for the events of 2012."
Your request is acknowledged. State your request.
"How do I solve this fucking puzzle?" Elizabeth asked, waving a hand to take in the entire carnival game.
In return for this answer, the favour I owe is repaid in full?
"Yes."
Did you try asking nicely?
Elizabeth froze, staring at the words imprinted on the starfish as if hoping she''d misread. But no; those five haunting words remained unchanged, lasting until her contractor faded from view. Because Elizabeth had seen the game laid out before her, and immediately jumped into finding a magical solution at the Monkey''s prompting. But then, he''d only even spoken that single sentence; nothing to bar a non-magical solution.
"Which cup is the ball hidden under?"
At her hesitant question, the animatronic monkey smiled for the first time, lifted an arm, and pointed to the cup positioned dead centre.
"...I hate my life."
Chapter 107: Zenless Zone
Chapter 107: Zenless Zone
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Crystalline Core:
Compact: Your Core is unusually small, reducing total storage volume. Your Core is efficient; there is no delay in item deposit or withdrawal.
Expansive: Your Core is unusually large, significantly increasing total storage volume. Size impacts efficiency; item deposit or withdrawal takes five seconds to execute.
Unstable: Your Core is unstable, emitting significant magical bleed-off inside the storage space. Magical items stored within recharge over time. A very small chance for each item deposit or withdrawal action to fail, locking the storage for five minutes.]
"Unstable is a solid no," Noah advised, his eyes staring vacantly into the distance. "Take it from me, it doesn''t matter what the benefits on the tin say; it only takes one badly-timed jam out in the field, and you''re a goner."
For once, he wasn''t reading information from his System, but merely reliving old memories of his time in the forces. Emma couldn''t pinpoint the specific story there; her Dad had never been one to talk about his work at the dinner table.
"So you''d say reliability is the most important factor?" Emma mused. "That lines up with my own experiences, which has me leaning towards Compact. Five seconds is a long time when you desperately need something now."
Reaching her hand out, Emma touched a finger to the leftmost tablet; it glowed red hot, before all three tablets vanished, taking Emma''s fingerprint with them.
"I''m starting to think this entire grotto was built to be as annoying as possible," Emma groused, staring askance at the blister that had taken over her fingertip.
Such minor damage would barely even register as such to her armor, and undoubtedly fade from view after a few seconds of natural regeneration. Her homunculus body did no such thing however; belatedly, Emma wondered if she should''ve added some customisation instead of asking for bog standard human specifications.
Meow.
[Saint casts Rejuvenate, granting you minor regeneration for 1 hour.]
"Thanks!"
Emma made sure to show her appreciation, giving Saint''s cheeks a thorough stroking. Her eyes remained on the bowl though, where the Crystalline Core was steadily shrinking; very slowly, reducing maybe an inch in diameter with every passing minute. Eventually, the shrinkage halted, leaving the core maybe a third of its previous size.
"Compact Core created. Retrieve the core from the bowl to finalise your storage item, or donate another fifty Thrones for a second attribute."
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Emma didn''t hesitate to reach back into her saddlebag; she''d already spent five hundred and fifty Thrones, and would not be satisfied with the bare minimum to qualify as a storage item. Once again, the money vanished immediately upon reaching the bowl; before any wayward stacks of coin could strike the core that lay within. Three tablets appeared, the same size as before but a very different language.
"Is that Old Eastern Slavic?" Noah gasped. "In such good condition too, I''ve only ever seen its like in University libraries and museums."
"Two languages thus far, both well over a thousand years old. What are the odds of that being a coincidence?"
[Very low. Coincidentally, Crystal''s older brother is a prominent salesman for magical translators.]
"So we''re definitely being taken for a ride," Noah grunted. "Nice to know."
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Compact Core: [2]
Nature''s Embrace: Your Core is attuned to the Lore of Life; living beings may be stored within, held in stasis without suffering any harm.
Blood for the Blood God: Your Core can store a single weapon in addition to standard space constraints, but may never be used to store any items of healing.
DOOOOOOOOOOOOM!: Your Core''s storage space doubles, but may only be used to store items carrying a significant drawback for the user.]
"Well, that''s awfully specialised: all three of the items in fact. What to do?" Emma bit her lip.
"They all build into very different directions," Noah concurred. "Actually, on that note; nobody ever mentioned any rule preventing us from rolling the remaining attributes before choosing. Crystal only mentioned a hard limit of five attributes."
"Good catch," Emma grinned, already reaching for her saddlebag again. "I''ll park this choice for later then, once we have a better idea what we''re getting."
Tossing fifty Thrones more into the mix, Emma wasn''t prepared for the donation bowl to belch a gust of foul black smoke into the air, making her gag. Saint hissed angrily, her feline nose suffering the worst of them all; she quickly recovered, stamping a paw on Noah''s shoulder. The sudden gust of wind that followed cleared the smoke, its cause clear.
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Compact Core: [3]
Rot, Glorious Rot: Your Core is steeped in the shadow of the Black Death. All who touch or behold it suffer Poison Damage, increasing with every second of exposure.
Blessing of Robin Hood: Your Core can only store items that do not belong to you.
Art is an Explosion: Your Core''s storage space is increased tenfold, but can only be used to store explosives.]
"...Fuck."
---
"I''ve never been so angry to get something for free before," Elizabeth grumbled as she reemerged into the Sherwood Gallery, a tiny blue cube clutched protectively to her chest. "A pox on retired arch-mages with too much time on their hands."
The rest of her shopping had barely taken any time at all; every item on her list together taking less than half the duration of her final ''transaction''. Of course, that was only from her own subjective viewpoint; which wasn''t exactly reliable where the gallery was concerned. Elizabeth glanced around, taking note that only tents remained, all of them offering various forms of food and drink. This was a configuration frequent shoppers had dubbed the Waiting Area; somewhere with nothing of true value but plenty of time wasters to entertain a shopper until all of their plus ones were also done for the day.
"You must gather your party before venturing forth."
Elizabeth quirked her lip; there was no way around this restriction she knew, everyone who entered together must leave together. Shaking her head, she made her way to one of the larger tents, drawn by the familiar scent of fish and chips. After the day she''d had, a bit of comfort food was just what the doctor ordered.
Chapter 108: Dharma
Chapter 108: Dharma
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Compact Core: [3]
Rot, Glorious Rot: Your Core is steeped in the shadow of the Black Death. All who touch or behold it suffer Poison Damage, increasing with every second of exposure.
Blessing of Robin Hood: Your Core can only store items that do not belong to you.
Art is an Explosion: Your Core''s storage space is increased tenfold, but can only be used to store explosives.]
"Well. That''s a bit too specialised for my needs," Emma grimaced. "I''m looking more for a general storage item for everyday use, not whatever this is."
"A week''s wages for that? Not particularly worthwhile," Noah concurred. "I think I can get some use out of it though, thanks to my Balefire modifiers. Why don''t you lock in the third choice for both attributes, and let me cover the down payment?"
"Fine by me," Emma agreed, locking in her choices with quick presses against the relevant tablets. "No more attributes for this one."
"Wonderful! In that case, it''s time to shine!"
What followed Crystal''s words was hard to describe; as neither Emma nor Noah could make sense of the kaleidoscopic light emanating from the core. After what could have been a minute or a day, Emma jolted back to wakefulness. The corrosive light was gone, and she was standing under her own power, clad in armour once more; her homunculus body lay collapsed upon her summon''s earthen throne, bleeding heavily from both nostrils. Thankfully, the regeneration from Saint was still active, restoring some pallor with every passing moment, or else Emma suspected she''d be looking for another homunculus already.
Noah looked a lot better despite having fallen to his knees; something largely attributed to Saint poking him repeatedly in the face, feeding him a steady stream of restorative magic.
[The crafting is done, you can retrieve the item now.]
Having received the all-clear, Emma dared look into the bowl once more: to find what had been a spherical core, transparent and otherwise devoid of definition, had undergone a significant transformation. Now, it was a dark blue set of frames, topped with twinned, pitch black lenses that swallowed any light that reached it. A set of glasses unlike any Emma had seen before; and she''d seen plenty, in a nation where over two thirds were nearsighted to some degree.
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[Vision of the Doomseeker: A pair of glasses containing a storage space capable of instantaneous transfer. May contain 20/20 items, with a maximum volume of twenty cubic meters. May only store explosives. The lenses adjust to the wearer''s prescription.]
"Huh. Could''ve been worse," Noah decided, reaching into the bowl and swapping out his store-bought spectacles for his new magic item. "Even if I never end up using the storage element, that''s what, six and a half thousand pounds for a pair of glasses? Pretty expensive for sure, but not actually too bad if I can keep them for life."
Noah stood back up, taking a few wobbly steps around the room.
"Woah, that''s quite the change. I was probably overdue a trip to the optician, if everything is this much clearer with a new pair of glasses."
[It''s a fair deal, for a sub-optimal item. Lifespans trend longer for practitioners as well; very few reach the point of dying by old age and illness, so as long as he isn''t killed in battle he''s got a few centuries to look forward to.]
"Good to know," Emma murmured, even as she turned away from Noah and back to the bowl. "Where does that leave us though? We''ve got three hundred and fifty Thrones left; even with another five hundred from Dad, we''re still in the red for a replacement core."
Another tablet appeared in an unspoken reply, this one completely blank save for three large letters written in bold at the top.
"An IOU?" Noah remarked. "Are those legally binding in the Empire?"
[No more so than poker chips at a casino table. They are reliant entirely on reputation: in this case, the reassurance that as one of the most influential beings in the Empire, I won''t cheat a shopkeeper over a mere few thousand Thrones.]
A pen wasn''t provided, but that wasn''t an issue now that Emma was back in her true form. The tip of her armoured finger carved thin trails through the stone; not her neatest work by any measure, but still an easily legible one thousand Thrones. The tablet vanished, and there was once more a Crystalline Core in the bowl.
[Right, let''s do this again. A storage item is one of the essential pieces of any practitioner''s repertoire; so whilst I won''t say we should aim for the very best, as that could take literal years, we should keep going until you get one you''re satisfied with.]
Seeing no reason to complain, Emma dipped into her remaining coinage and tossed fifty Thrones into the bowl, starting the cycle anew. As both her and Noah leaned in, eager to see the new set of attributes, neither of them noticed as Saint vanished from the latter''s shoulders, heading on her own adventure to parts unknown.
---
Meanwhile, in what was once Cambridge.
There was disagreement here, once upon a time. Raucous, reckless, and raw in the manner only found in that most savage of battlefields: academia. Tempers flared, insults were levied, and three scholars even died before a good chunk of the gobsmacked crowd decided to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Oxford was the University, in those days, Cambridge would see the founding of the second. The first offspring, and the first defier; there''s a weight to such moments, even eight centuries gone by.
Cambridge is gone, just a crater left to mourn her: the legacy of too many students, teachers and tourists, raising the population until it reached six digits and more. No more cathedrals, halls of learning, or homes for the many. Just a single cottage torn out of time, a sleeping beauty in an armchair, and a fat orange cat curled up happily in her lap.
Chapter 109: CrystalGPT
Chapter 109: CrystalGPT
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Crystalline Core:
Chaos Control: Deposit and withdrawal is instant, and storage volume is doubled. Item withdrawal is randomised.
Get in My Belly: Storage volume increases tenfold. Items stored are destroyed.
The Hills Are Alive: All items stored are held in individual containers, preventing unfortunate interactions inside the storage. May only be wielded by a Fairy.
"There''s got to be a better method of crafting a storage item," Emma complained, glaring at the first set of tablets for her second attempt. "There''s no way this is the best the Empire can do."
[There are definitely more reliable methods available. For anywhere between fifteen to twenty-five thousand Thrones, you can commission one of Paradox''s students to produce a bespoke item to your exact specifications. They don''t take IOUs however; skilled magical craftsmen are rare, and only ever charge up front.]
"That''s a bit more than your entire bank account, at least under the name of Ana Gram. Think we could earn enough to cover the cost in a few days?"
[Maybe. The actual crafting time is measured in weeks to months though.]
"Never mind."
[It''s a difficult affair, producing a localised pocket dimension capable of safely interacting with a wide variety of items. Crystal shortcuts the process by mass producing inert cores, before flooding them with wild magic on demand. Because the magic itself takes the lead in the process, the success rate is remarkably high; but as a consequence, Crystal has no control over what comes out the other end. It''s very much a black box, even to her.]
"But it''s still cheaper than a craftsman, even if it takes a few goes," Emma concluded, running the numbers in her head.
[Unless you''re really, really unlucky, anyway. But yes, Crystal generally can''t be beaten on price or speed, which is why most practitioners come here for their first purchase.]
"Fair enough, maybe the third time''s the charm?"
Emma hoped, tapping the middle tablet; whilst none of the options were good, she could still see some utility in a portable trash compactor.
"We''re done with this one."
Both Emma and Noah were ready this time, turning their backs to the core as it began to shine, thus avoiding the worst of the burning light. Emma felt nothing more than a mild tickling sensation, a far cry from the assault on her senses prior; though she couldn''t say for certain whether the muted effect was due to turning her back, being out of the homunculus, or both. Turning back around once the light faded, Emma''s was altogether unsurprised by the finished product, but still rather disappointed.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
[Bin of the Event Horizon: Destroys anything placed inside. Non-living deposits only.]
"You can have this one as well," Emma sighed. "It''ll save some time, not having to empty the bin back home."
It was a mere moment''s work for Noah to store the world''s most expensive rubbish bin in his bum bag; leaving Emma down over two thousand Thrones with little to show for it.
"Alright, another IOU, if you could?"
After duly signing away yet another thousand Thrones by tablet, Emma began the process of selection for the third time, offering fifty of the three hundred Thrones remaining in her saddlebag to the new core.
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Crystalline Core:
Compact: Your Core is unusually small, reducing total storage volume. Your Core is efficient; there is no delay in item deposit or withdrawal.
Expansive: Your Core is unusually large, significantly increasing total storage volume. Size impacts efficiency; item deposit or withdrawal takes five seconds to execute.
Explosive: Your core is unusually volatile; items withdrawn emerge at one hundred miles an hour.]
Surprisingly, the tablets came in English this time; perhaps a concession from Crystal on account of Emma''s mounting annoyance. The third option drew a short laugh from her, a distinct difference where the previous two were merely a repeat of her first core. Unlike before though, she didn''t choose any of them; knowing the value in seeing all the permutations first. Another fifty Thrones were ''donated''; the second verse, same as the first.
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Crystalline Core: (2)
Curse of Stockholm: Items stored are bound to the Core''s owner, and can no longer be used by anyone else.
Never Gonna Give You Up: Your Core is immensely durable; able to survive anything short of a point blank nuclear detonation and remain in working order.
Spill the Tea: Your Core constantly emits a soothing scent, calming tempers and nerves alike. Living beings can be stored, and will gradually heal while inside.]
"For the sake of the remaining rolls, I''ll refrain from commenting on our fortune," Noah deadpanned.
Strictly speaking, Emma already had what she needed to fulfil her quest requirements; but like before, she wasn''t willing to settle for just a basic storage item. Fifty more thrones went into the bowl.
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Crystalline Core: (3)
The Armed Man: One firearm may be stored in addition to ordinary storage volume.
Poison Pen: Toxins stored in this core will be kept in pristine condition, and cannot spoil.
Masquerade: This core is invisible to all but the wearer.]
"Now we''re getting somewhere," Emma murmured, tossing another fifty Thrones without more than a moment''s thought.
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Crystalline Core: (4)
The Elephant in the Room: Core storage space is trebled; animals stored inside remain calm and compliant at all times.
Killing in the Name: Corpses do not take up storage space.
Weeping Angel: ?? ??? ??????]
"Don''t take the third one," Noah interrupted immediately. "I''ve seen enough science fiction to know where that leads."
"The other two options are both good," Emma agreed, her hand already reaching for her final donation.
Only five attributes were permitted after all, and she''d come too far now to give up at the final roll of the dice. Tossing the coins with a low overhand, Emma awaited the final choice with bated breath.
Chapter 110: Full Fathom Five
Chapter 110: Full Fathom Five
A final fifty Thrones hit the bowl, vanishing with all the rest.
[Choose 1 of 3 Attributes for your Crystalline Core: (5)
Atom Bomb Baby: This item constantly emits a lethal dose of gamma radiation.
JoJo''s Bizarre Adventure: This item teleports to a random location every 24 hours.
One Ring to Rule Them All: The bearer of this item cannot wear any other jewellery.]
"Oh thank God," Emma sighed as she read the third and final option. "That was looking really bad for a moment there."
Looking over the five choices before her, it didn''t take too long to make her decision.
"Compact is still the best for reliability in all circumstances; extra space isn''t worth a five second cast time, and the less said about Explosive the better. Spill the Tea was locked in from the beginning, since the end result needs to be capable of holding living beings; keeping idiots from their hair trigger is just a bonus on top.
Masquerade, because it''s better being able to hide than keep extra guns or poisons; I say extra, but I don''t even have any of the former, and only what Epitaph puts out for the latter, if that even counts. The Elephant in the Room, for extra storage space and synergy in keeping animals calm; its not like I need to carry corpses, or whatever the hell that third option is.
Finally, One Ring to Rule Them All; the only choice of the three that isn''t a dealbreaker."
[Cover the bowl.]
An immediate mental command brought walls of packed earth to the surface, the Earthbound Immortal exerting itself to expedite construction. The summon vanished, returning to Emma''s soul with its job done; Sir Bearington immediately appearing in its place such that Emma''s empty homunculus landed on his back instead of the hard floor.
It didn''t stop the light; not completely, a searing yellow that managed to hurt, even through three feet of earth and a body that shouldn''t have been capable of feeling pain. Emma was tempted to activate Null and Void, if not for the suspicion that disrupting the light would also ruin the crafting process. Instead, she settled on Ephemera, and was glad to find that intangibility reduced the pain significantly.
Noah had likewise activated his defences; a transparent blue barrier covering him.
[Shieldwall Spike: All damage taken is dealt five fold to Mana instead of HP. This item breaks when the wearer''s mana hits 0.]
"Huh. Where''s the spike?" Emma frowned, looking for an item on Noah''s body that matched the description, but coming up blank.
[The Spike is applied intravenously, and binds itself to the bearer''s bloodstream. This is one of those items that are very much single-use; no refunds or borrowing allowed. Not that it would work on you anyway; the living have a different relationship to mana than the dead.]
"I was thinking it''d be good protection for the homunculus. It almost died by accident last time; and while I don''t expect it to become as durable as my main body, that''s just laughably bad."
[An option perhaps, if it develops a class with an abundance of mana. The rate of conversion means its only really worthwhile for casters.]
"Wait, the homunculus can gain classes?" Emma blinked. "Do I want to know how it was created?"
[Probably not, and admittedly, they usually wouldn''t qualify for the System; a homunculus doesn''t have a bloodline in the traditional sense, being entirely artificial. But since this one''s yours, I''ll just count it as a member of the Knight family and allocate accordingly. It''s putting my thumb on the scales a bit, but a bit of nepotism is hardly the end of the world, considering it''s the end of the world.]
Emma was about to ask for build suggestions when the light began to taper off. As the last of it faded, so too did the earthen barriers crumble away; soft earth turned to clay and now to dust.
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[Eden''s Echo: A ring containing fifty cubic meters of storage space, capable of instant item transfer. Living beings stored are held in stasis and gradually healed of any ailments. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who may not wear any other jewellery.]
It was by any metric an excellent result, barring one small issue that only now presented itself.
"Where''s the ring?" Emma frowned, staring down at an empty bowl.
It was only visible to the wearer.
---
A few minutes of careful fumbling later, Emma did eventually find the ring, placing it on the fourth finger of her left hand. Given that one of the effects on her new magic item meant she''d never wear a wedding ring anyway, the selection didn''t make much difference, but that had been the preferred finger for hundreds of years so she deferred to prior wisdom.
True to the description, Eden''s Echo appeared the moment it slid around her finger; an unassuming band of gold half a centimetre across, with a brilliant green emerald flecked with little streaks of yellow resembling lightning bolts.
[Item - Eden''s Echo obtained!
200 EXP gained for obtaining a high-quality storage item.
Bonus Objective: Acquire a storage item that can hold living beings completed.
Integrating with Inventory function.]
Pointing her finger at the homunculus, Emma watched it vanish, a brief distortion that lasted barely a blink before completing.
[Homunculus (Level 0) added to Inventory
Saddlebag added to Inventory
50 Thrones added to Inventory]
"Well, that wasn''t too bad," Noah exhaled. "Took a bit longer than expected, but still beats military procurement any day of the week. What''s next on the shopping list?"
"Two thousand Thrones from the bank to cover what we owe, then a bit of clothes shopping," Emma decided after a moment''s thought. "Let''s leave the divine artefact for last, since that will almost certainly be the most difficult, right, Saint?"
Silenced greeted Emma, who waited all of two seconds before looking around the room.
"Saint?"
---
System Update:
Practitioner Emma Knight - Level 12 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 4500
-
EXP: 5810/6000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph} (Cost: 20% current Anima)
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows made of anima. The more anima invested, the more powerful the shot; the arrows can also apply the effects of other Weapon Enhancements.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining the ability to summon a simulacrum of equal level as the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 1 hour cooldown when simulacrum is defeated.
-
Captured: The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode
-
Weeping Scar: Wounds inflict periodic poison damage until they are healed.
-
Can I Play with Madness?: The first Wound dealt to an enemy inflicts a random Status Condition.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living, lower-level target within the user''s line of sight. No component of this ability will activate unless the target can be possessed.
-
Ardent Ephemera (Cost: 1% base Anima /second): Become intangible while active, able to pass unhindered through physical objects and blows.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 days): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, inflicting Instant Death to anyone who saw it.
-
Null and Void (Cost: 5% base Anima): Disrupt a spell before casting completes.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home.
Traits
-
Arcanivore: Enemies restore Anima when wounded or slain.
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (TOGGLE: OFF): When active, attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 1 hour): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
It''s About Time: Immune to Time Magic (ineffective against casters 30+ Levels higher).
-
Babble Fish: You are fluent in every language known by the System.
-
Divine Conduit (Anathema): ?
Inventory - Eden''s Echo
A ring containing fifty cubic meters of storage space, capable of instant item transfer. Living beings stored are held in stasis and gradually healed of any ailments. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who may not wear any other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
Homunculus (Level 0)
-
Saddlebag
-
50 Thrones
Quests
All Mart (Time Limit: 6 Days)
-
Objective: Acquire a set of formal attire (Eternal Britannian Empire).
-
Bonus Objective: Acquire a divine artifact compatible with Saint.
-
Rewards: 500 EXP
-
Bonus Rewards: Upgrade a random Ability and/or Trait, A large sum of Imperial money, Trait - Babble Fish upgraded to include non-humans.
Chapter 111: Unlucky Thirteen
Chapter 111: Unlucky Thirteen
When eyes and ears failed to locate Saint, Noah had brought out the big guns; a can of her favourite wet food laid out on the floor. Five whole minutes without a response was a conclusive result to Noah; as back home, Saint never took longer than three to pounce on a meal within range of her nose.
"I''ll take that with me, for when she comes back," Emma raised her hand, absorbing the open can and proving that Eden''s Echo didn''t care about notions such as ownership.
[Gained Canned Cat Food (Open)]
"If I understand correctly, my storage will keep it fresh until it''s needed."
"Saint does wander off sometimes," Noah agreed. "Never for too long though, I''m sure she''ll be back once she gets hungry."
Taking one last look around the crystal grotto, Emma wondered briefly what possessed experts in their craft to spend time playing shopkeeper.
[It''s rarely the master interacting in person. That''s what servants, summons or autonomous creations are for.]
"Bots everywhere, just like on the internet," Emma laughed, turning on her heel and heading for the tunnel back to the surface.
Leaving proved far faster than the journey to the grotto, on account of having a path laid out in advance, no digging required. That made it altogether more confusing when, instead of returning to the familiar wooded clearing, Emma arrived back inside the endless fog that had brought her to the Gallery in the morning. Looking around, it didn''t take long to realise she wasn''t alone.
"Looks like you''re done for the day as well," Elizabeth noted; the only other person visible within the fog; for a few seconds anyway, before Noah appeared to bring up the rear.
"We''ve still got a few errands to run," Emma protested halfheartedly, though truth be told she wouldn''t mind a break, having never been a big fan of shopping.
[They''ll keep. The Gallery has had enough of you all for the day, so off you go now
Debt added - 2000 Thrones to Crystal''s Crystal Emporium.]
True to the System''s warning, a path extended forward, cutting through the fog in a single direction only. Deciding that stepping off the route was unwise, Emma fell into step behind Elizabeth as the latter led them down a long, winding route. She would''ve thought they were going in circles, if not for the subtle change in the wind as they progressed. A sudden incline arrived without warning; far steeper than Emma could recall from the previous trip, such that it took no more than ten steps up the hill before she emerged back outside the Decision Tree.
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It was already night-time, the stars visible high above whilst the village that was formerly Oxford cast a dark shadow; whilst candles were readily available, few went to the effort of preparing lamps outside their homes. The crack of gunfire could be heard in the distance, as the night shift manned the walls and fired upon demons spawning in no man''s land, whilst Scholomance towered off in the distance.
"I should head to the office," Noah grimaced. "I''m sure everything''s fine, but I want to catch up on the day''s agenda."
"Make sure you''re back two hours from now," Elizabeth reminded him. "No skipping dinner again."
Noah nodded, then set off at a jog towards his office, wherever that was these days.
"A workaholic as always," Elizabeth sighed. "Let''s get home then, Emma; you can help with dinner once we''re done unpacking, I hear you''re pretty good with a blade, these days."
"With a sword," Emma demurred. "I''m not sure how transferable those skills are in the kitchen, though I''m not against trying."
---
"Catch."
Emma barely caught the parcel before it hit her in the face, barely a few steps through the front door; Elizabeth''s storage item, she realised, was of the kind that possessed a need for speed.
[Objective: Acquire a set of formal attire (Eternal Britannian Empire) COMPLETE!]
"Wait, you collected it for me?" Emma blinked. "I thought I had to sign off on everything in person, even if you bought it for me."
"Only the homunculus required that, as a precaution against fraud and identity theft. These are just ordinary clothes, not expensive enough to trigger enhanced security measures, and I already knew your measurements."
Emma made to reply, her hands already searching for the seam to start unwrapping the present, but was cut off by a sudden flood of notifications.
[All Mart standard objectives completed!
Quest - All Mart (Time Limit: 5 Days) modified:
-
Bonus Objective: Acquire a divine artifact compatible with Saint.
-
Bonus Rewards: Upgrade a random Ability and/or Trait, A large sum of Imperial money, Trait - Babble Fish upgraded to include non-humans.
500 EXP gained!
Level up!
Practitioner Emma Knight - Level 13 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 5000
-
EXP: 6310/7000
Milestone reached, Unlucky Thirteen!
Statistically, this places you within the top 3% of all System users in terms of longevity.
Skill selection modified with the following theme: Fate!
Select
two of the following four options below:
1) Ability - Curse of the Broken Mirror: May you live in interesting times. Afflicts targets with a curse that turns luck against them. May be active on [Level/10] targets at a time.
2) Ability - The Promised Hour: Dulce et decorum est, Pro patria mori. Declare an hour of the day; until that hour, you cannot die. Once you reach that hour, death is certain. Once the hour is chosen, it can no longer be changed.
3) Trait - Rorschach''s Blot: For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind. Attempts to observe you remotely produce inaccurate, nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent towards you. You will be alerted when observation commences.
4) Item - Black Candle: All shall be well. When lit, this candle consumes all nearby light, leaving a bubble of impenetrable darkness.
Chapter 112: The Office
Chapter 112: The Office
"Something wrong?" Elizabeth asked, turning from her own unpacking at the dining table to see Emma frozen in place.
"No, no. The opposite actually, I just levelled up."
[Trait - Rorschach''s Blot selected!]
Having thought it over, Emma locked in one of her choices, seeing a clear upside in frustrating any surveillance aimed at her. The second choice, she left for later; as none provided any immediate relevance.
As the final notification faded from view, Emma dug a finger into the plain brown package in her hands, and activated Wolf, Ram and Heart. Strictly speaking, she''d already possessed a degree of control over the ability in its prior iteration, being able to decide by her intent what counted as an attack; but now with a built-in toggle, she had enough fine control to dig through wrapping paper with the confidence that it wouldn''t cut straight through her new clothes. It was still slow, delicate work though, peeling one layer of wrapping at a time, the kind that couldn''t really be rushed without tearing something unfortunate. Three layers in, Emma paused and facepalmed.
"I''m an idiot."
Raising her hand, Emma pointed her ring at the package and ordered it to store the clothes; only the clothes.
[Victorian Gown (3-piece) stored!]
An underarm throw sent the now empty packaging into the blue Fire Slime sleeping in the corner of the room; Emma watching with some satisfaction as more than ten layers of wrapping burned away to nothing. The slime gurgled contentedly, the orange glimmers that made up its face rearranging into a smile that wouldn''t look out of place in a game of Pac-man.
[Taylor''s always overdo it with the packaging. So much waste; it''s almost as bad as Amazon.]
Shaking her head, Emma looked to her Mom again, finding the latter still busy with her own unpacking. Admittedly, she had a lot more to go through; including several boxes that came with cipher locks. Elizabeth was working at the largest of them, one hand glowing with white light, while the other held a piece of paper featuring equations Emma couldn''t make heads of tails of.
"This might take a while," Elizabeth admitted, feeling Emma''s eyes on her back. "Can you get dinner started? Ingredients are already laid out for you."
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"Sure thing," Emma agreed easily, already heading to the kitchen as she spoke.
It was a far cry from the old days, when she only ever did her chores with the begrudging attitude common to teenagers worldwide; but after going for quite some time confined to a liquid diet, Emma had a newfound appreciation for the art of cookery. Her enthusiasm waned somewhat when she found the cutlery; as it turned out, kitchen knives for civilian use weren''t easy to hold in a gauntlet sized for a great-sword. Nor did Epitaph fit the dimensions of a kitchen counter, as it turned out.
Reluctantly, Emma had to bring out her homunculus in the end; getting started on peeling the potatoes, onions and carrots the old fashioned way. Looking at the spread of chicken breasts, rashers of bacon and beans, alongside the aforementioned vegetables and carbs? Emma was looking forward to dinner; she hadn''t had Hunter''s chicken in a long while.
---
People left their desks and stood to greet Noah as he entered the newly christened Oxford administrative building.
"How bad is it?"
Those were Noah''s first words, because nobody stood up to mob him the moment he arrived at work, unless things had already gone pear-shaped and he was desperately needed.
"Not an emergency, for once," Ryan replied; the first to speak as always where Noah was concerned. "We''re being proactive for once, words of the eggheads."
There were higher ranked people in the room, even in what remained of the old military hierarchy, to say nothing of the newcomers that had arrived to act as liaisons with the Eternal Britannian Empire. The latter had remained oddly deferential to him though, which the former took as a sign to do likewise; as a result, Noah had been elected leader and was now regularly giving orders to men two decades his senior. Sometimes, he wondered if this was how newly commissioned officers felt, being deployed for the first time.
"Our sentries have done a good job at keeping our immediate surroundings clear," A willowy, bespectacled man of indeterminate age spoke up next; one of the Empire''s analysts, judging by the badge on his chest. "A bit too good, actually, because it''s forcing demons to spawn further afield, beyond the firing range of most of our weapons. Thus far, they''ve kept to themselves, but that''s unlikely to hold forever. We''re in need of some heavy support to thin the herd, before they become a problem."
"Nothing from the tower, I take it?" Noah asked.
"Scholomance is continuing adjustments to siphon away the ambient mana in Oxfordshire. Progress is slow, because it has to happen simultaneously across the region; otherwise you just force all the mana into a few dead zones, and end up with massively powerful demons. We''re unlikely to get any support from there for the next month at least."
"Fine," Noah grunted, having expected that answer, given it hadn''t changed for weeks now. "I''ll talk to my family over dinner, about them joining us for a raid or two. That''s in just under two hours, by the way; so give me the short version on anything that can''t wait."
Not bothering to head to his office, Noah pulled an armchair out of his bum bag, sinking down into it and blocking the front door obnoxiously.
[Good, you''re starting to internalise Empire management principles. Flaunt your power regularly, it keeps those who fear it in line, and encourages those who covet it to work hard.]
Is it weird how little difference there is between the the power plays in a globe-spanning magocracy, and those found in a corporate middle office?
[Eh. Magic is great and all, but people will be people.]
Chapter 113: Take Me Home
Chapter 113: Take Me Home
It was remarkably easy to fall back into a familiar routine, Emma reflected, her thoughts drifting even as her hands made deft work of the carrots, just like the potatoes, beans and onions before them. Despite being back in a body kept within typical human parameters, hours of life and death combat turned out to have some transferable qualities after all.
It was the situational awareness; that keen sense of exactly where her body was relative to nearby sources of danger. Case in point, Emma''s hands, moving with precision befitting a professional kitchen to reduce the carrots to thin slices, three every second. Attempting this before the apocalypse would have sent her to emergency care; nowadays, Emma could do it with her eyes closed, the edge of the knife never further than a millimetre from her finger - but never closer either.
Finishing up the last of four carrots, Emma tipped the lot into the bowl with the beans, all ready for boiling. That part, she was going to leave for Elizabeth; chopping was straightforward and something Emma was familiar with, the temperature and time for cooking less so. Before, she''d have searched for the recipe on her phone; but whilst the Weave had an email and messaging equivalent, she''d yet to find a search engine or a cookbook in the System. Not that a recipe would have done much good, when she didn''t even know to operate the new oven; an arcane structure of red brick and glowing violet runes, complete with a control panel that resembled a Rubik''s Cube.
[Don''t ask me how it works. I haven''t cooked a meal in centuries; that''s what servants are for.]
"Well, that explains the lack of recipes," Emma quipped. "Hypothetically, if I stab someone and capture his soul, would it remember how to cook?"
[Yes, if the capture is successful. It takes a certain threshold for a soul to linger beyond death, and a level of dedication and devotion to the skills in question, in order to retain them even in death. Thus far, you''ve only captured creatures with innate abilities, so the question was academic at best. Simply put, a professional chef who takes pride in his work would be a suitable capture target; someone who flips burgers for minimum wage and is mostly concerned with getting through the day would not.]
"Fair enough," Emma nodded, as she reached for the grater and the parmesan cheese. "I suppose I''ll keep an eye out for an immortal chef, then."
[Might have to go to France for one of those. England may be many things, but a culinary capital? Most definitely not. London was an exception there, in food and many other fields besides, but that ship has sailed.]
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Elizabeth wandered in at that point, having finished with her unpacking. Her magical girl outfit was gone as well, replaced with a much more familiar combination of a sweater, jeans and apron.
"I should probably get some casual clothes as well," Emma admitted, looking first at her Mom then back at the pink leotard she was wearing, fresh from the shop.
It wasn''t exactly well-suited for housekeeping, even if Emma''s newfound skill had kept it spotless over half an hour of prep work. The Victorian gown was hardly a better choice either.
"There''s daily scavenging runs that head into surrounding towns and villages to look for supplies," Elizabeth informed her. "If you write down what you need, your father can get it added to tomorrow''s checklist. It might take some time though; clothes are more difficult than food or other consumables, seeing as size and fit are both factors. I could also dig around in the Scholomance Lost and Found again?"
"It''s fine, it''s not an urgent issue; just something to grab if I find it on the way."
On the way to what, Emma didn''t say; quite frankly, she wasn''t entirely sure of the answer herself. For most of her time since the apocalypse, she''d been moving on the basis of clearly defined goals: find her brother, find her parents, complete the dungeon and try not to die, etcetera. Now? That was all done, and she had the foundation of a home again; and the only quest in her log was one she couldn''t begin to guess at. Where do you even look for a divine artefact fit for a cat?
[Eh, Saint will give you a hint, once she''s done sleeping on my stomach. Lazy cat.]
"Saint left us behind because she wanted cuddles?" Emma deadpanned.
[Well its not like you were available, or radiating body heat for that matter.]
With Elizabeth now present and in command of the kitchen, Emma wandered out to the living room, relieved of her duties. Tiredness was another sensation that was rather unfamiliar to her now; whilst her armoured form still experienced mental fatigue, the sensation was altogether weaker than the genuine article. Belatedly, Emma wondered if the homunculus had ever slept before; if not, she had quite the deficit to make up. Claiming the long couch for herself, Emma decided that a short nap before dinner wouldn''t be the worst thing in the world.
---
"What do you mean, you can''t get me to England?" Astrid growled; an understandable reaction, given that the ticket master only told her this after taking payment in full.
"Regrettably, transit links overseas are still in flux; existing configurations were designed for drought conditions, and require updating to account for current levels of ambient mana. If you''re willing to wait another three months..."
"Missing the solstice in the process, and the whole point of the trip," Astrid retorted, unimpressed.
"As it stands, we''re unable to guarantee your safety if you were to making the jump..."
"I don''t need your guarantees," Astrid spat, pouring all her disdain into the word. "Just the portal; fire it up, I''ll jump blind if needed, just get me somewhere within the British Isles. You can manage that much, for ten thousand Thrones?"
Chapter 114: Big Brother
Chapter 114: Big Brother
Emma woke up half an hour later, far more alert than she''d been when she laid her head down. Part of that came from being refreshed by her nap; though most of it stemmed from a burning pain in her neck, pain that only intensified when she tried to raise her arm above shoulder height to rub her eyes.
[There''s a reason beds exist separately to sofas, unless you''re really hard up.]
"I used to sleep in the car all the time, and it never got this bad. Is this body defective?"
[That''s a good question. I could check for you, if you''re willing to link it to the System now. Do you have a class in mind?]
"Not really? I didn''t get to choose last time; either time, I should say. What are the options when I''m not dying, or high as a kite?"
[You''ve not really fought in this body; nor done much of anything to be honest. You''re looking at either the Apprentice class, which is a generic placeholder that lets you level up before changing class at a later date, or the Chef class.]
"What would it take to unlock extra classes, if I went with Apprentice?" Emma asked, ignoring the Chef option entirely; she had Epitaph for that, after all.
[You''ll be notified when classes are unlocked for selection. Some become permanently available once you hit a certain threshold, for example a particular level or a certain amount of a particular stat. These tend to be the more common classes; someone who puts on armor and picks up a sword might get to choose between Knight and Blackguard, while someone who went for their guns might get Marksman as an example.
The rarer, more powerful classes tend to have more specific, time-limited requirements that you either accept or reject in the moment. You got Revenant for dying within a minute of System activation, and Chaos Conjurer before that for fighting nightmares while on a bad trip. Fairly typical examples, both of these; think of rare classes like hidden achievements. You''ll know when you find one.]
"So I''d be raising a second class entirely from scratch. Not the worst idea in theory, but a time sink for sure. Is there no way to link this body to my existing Damned Apostle class? I''m not really strong enough to be comfortable thinking about multi-classing."
[Actually, that might be possible. You''ll have to wait until the Solstice at Level 0 though, so hold that thought.]
Any further discussion was interrupted when Noah abruptly appeared in the living room, landing on the single-seat sofa in the corner and sinking into the soft padding.
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[You used Teleport to cut two minutes from your commute home?]
"I wouldn''t have made it out of the office otherwise," Noah grimaced. "You know how academics can be, once they get started talking about their pet project, they can talk for days. I''m not missing dinner for an extended lecture on optimal crop rotations."
[Well, your timing is on point.]
"Dinner''s ready!"
Emma was quick on her feet, eager for a bit of comfort food, with Noah close behind as they filed into the dining room. Elizabeth had already set the table, with fine china plates and what Emma thought were genuine silver cutlery, given how heavy they were compared to the usual stainless steel.
[The Orient Special: An enchanted dinner set that cleans and packs itself away when the meal is done.]
Emma raised an eyebrow at that, though only briefly; her attention being mainly drawn to the meal itself. It didn''t disappoint: a large baking tray filled with tender chicken breasts topped with bacon, garnished with fried onions and accompanied by a heaping side of mashed potatoes, beans and carrots. Suffice it to say, nobody spent any time talking for a good long while after that.
---
"What the hell?" Felix frowned, smacking the side of the screen.
It didn''t help; what had been until now a clear image suddenly dissolving into a confusing kaleidoscope that resembled his old screensavers more than anything coherent.
"You were fine showing me Emma chewing for twenty minutes, but the moment she starts talking you die out on me? Useless piece of junk."
Chastising the screen didn''t help any more than hitting it, to the despair of IT professionals everywhere.
"Frumentarii, switch surveillance from Emma Knight to Noah Knight."
This time, regular service did resume, now broadcasting in third-person view from the back of Noah''s head instead, as he dug into a second portion of chicken. Only, it still wasn''t entirely right.
"Frumentarii," Felix''s eye twitched. "Why does my sister look like something out of a Lovecraft story? Switch view to Elizabeth Knight."
[ERROR 404]
"Designate Elizabeth Knight as an alternate and equivalent name to Elizabeth Faust. Goddamned Empire bureaucracy," Felix muttered under his breath.
The point of view bounced again, this time to Elizabeth, sat at the head of the table and busy adding some extra table salt to her meal. On the bright side, Emma no longer looked like something out of Innsmouth. On the other hand...
"Why is she a pony?" Felix facepalmed. "Frumentarii, refocus all surveillance on the Knight household. Someone''s playing games here, and I want to get to the bottom of it."
Now, finally, Emma came back into view. An ordinary person, no hooves, no tentacles, just a normal teenage girl with red hair and green eyes, as she''d been for the decade plus that Felix had known her.
"Hold on," Felix frowned. "Wasn''t she a suit of armor last time?"
Before he could ask for clarification, Emma stood up and spun around, staring directly at his magical fly on the wall.
"Null and Void."
The screen caught on fire, accompanied by a shock wave that blew Felix clean off his chair and sent him sprawling into the desert sand.
---
"Has Felix been in touch at all?" Emma asked, as she retook her seat, reaching for more mashed potatoes.
"Not for several weeks; last I heard he was still busy working on his Dungeon," Elizabeth replied. "Why?"
"No reason."
Chapter 115: One Small Favour
Chapter 115: One Small Favour
One hearty meal later, and Emma could barely feel the aches and pains she''d woken up to. Whether it was the food or simply the passage of time, it had faded from a persistent distraction to a dull ache in the background, easily ignored. There was no talking during dinner, as was the family way: conversations were something for before and after.
As Noah finished off the last of the vegetables, having eaten the most by far after a very exciting day on his end, Emma watched curiously as plates and cutlery cleaned themselves. Neither soap nor water were involved here; the stains on each piece simply faded away, going from solid to ethereal grey, then transparent before vanishing altogether. The one exception to this was the baking tray, which came from another set and was thoroughly mundane according to the System. That being, Emma had an idea for it as well.
"Do you still have the bin from our failed attempts?" She asked Noah, who nodded and pulled it wholesale from his bag.
It wasn''t instantaneous unlike Emma''s storage item, leading to a funny distortion as it emerged, going from the size of a small doll in Noah''s grip to its full, half-metre height as it was placed on the floor beside him. Pointing to the baking tray, Emma activated Eden''s Echo, ordering a deposit as two separate items.
[Baking Tray stored.
Food Waste stored.]
At her command, the tray returned to the table, exactly where it had been moments ago, now completely spotless. The food waste, on the other hand, Emma ordered to emerge inside the bin. A faint gurgling could be heard for a brief moment, before silence returned.
[Baking Tray removed.
Food Waste removed.]
"That''s quite handy," Noah remarked. "I have to physically manipulate anything big if I want it to land properly with my bag. Maybe I should upgrade to a fancy crystal as well?"
[You can do that on your own dime. Mayors are paid well under the Empire.]
"It definitely has a lot of applications," Emma grinned, rubbing the ring on her finger. "Not many limits that I''ve found yet, either. I could probably use it to pick people''s pockets, or do the reverse as well come to think of it. Give people a live hand grenade from a distance, like in Fallout 3."
"Something to consider if you get hold of explosives," Elizabeth agreed, as she gathered up the plates to return them to the kitchen. "Unless you got some earlier today?"
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"Not quite," Emma shook her head. "Dad could get better use out of them anyway, with his new glasses; they literally can''t hold anything else."
"Sounds like my storage item," Elizabeth frowned. "They can be remarkably picky, for something that lacks any discernible sentience."
Emma watched her depart for the kitchen, focusing in the familiar way that got the System to notice her intent. She got nothing for her trouble, not even the same status bar as on her first night back with the family.
[Elizabeth works for Internal Affairs; everyone in that department will have something to obfuscate their presence, it''s practically a job requirement. The System is better than most methods of detection, which would fail to acknowledge her presence altogether. Even then, as a magical girl, her power is locked up tight right now; you won''t get any useful readings unless she''s transformed.]
"Say, Emma, do you have anything planned for tomorrow?" Noah chose then to interject.
Emma banished her questions on magical girls, in favour of a quick glance at her quest log.
"Nothing besides my ongoing shopping list, which is effectively on hold until Saint comes back anyway. Hard to find an artefact that fits her, otherwise."
"Great! In that case, would you be willing to ride out with a patrol tomorrow? There''s a few areas where demons are massing, a bit more than the troops can handle on their own. It''d be great to have a proper heavy hitter out front, you know?"
"Why not? Gives me something to do."
[Quest added!
One Small Favour
Objective: Eliminate 25 Lesser Demons
Objective: Eliminate 5 Greater Demons
Bonus Objective: Get the patrol home with no casualties.
Bonus Objective: ???
Reward: 500 EXP
Bonus Rewards: Random upgrade for Homunculus (Level 0), ???]
"Speaking of the patrols, Mom mentioned there''s people going on scavenging runs too?"
Emma hadn''t planned on asking before, but if she was going to get more involved with the village she might as well make use of the benefits too.
"There are, though those shopping runs tend to leave late morning and get back in the afternoon. A bit earlier than the patrols, but it''s better for those runs to keep daylight hours if it means avoiding the demons entirely. Was there something you wanted?"
"Just some regular clothes. I''ve got my armor and the gown for formal events, but the rest of my wardrobe went up in flames with the old house."
"I''ll add it to the list." Noah promised.
There wasn''t much to say after that, and Emma was beginning to feel the familiar drowsiness that came after a big meal on an empty stomach. Noah didn''t look much better; it was almost midnight, and he''d actually done a full day in a squishy, flesh and blood body. Excusing herself, she headed upstairs to her room and collapsed on her bed. She got back up moments later, remembering that she actually had to worry about things like cleanliness again, and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower. Fifteen minutes later, she went to bed and actually stayed there this time.
---
"Would dropping explosives into people''s pockets actually work?" Noah wondered aloud, as he unloaded the last of his own shopping, and was about to head for the night as well.
"Possibly," Elizabeth hedged. "You''d have to prime the bomb and store it in stasis, or withdraw it in a way that starts the timer, like sending out a grenade without a pin. Then you''d just need to be close enough for your storage item, and far enough to avoid getting caught in the blast. Although, the more experienced practitioners would either have something to protect them against surprise deliveries, or are just tough enough to ignore it. Might surprise a few newbies, though."
"...So you''re saying there''s a chance?"
Chapter 116: Stray Cat Strut
Chapter 116: Stray Cat Strut
With great reluctance, Saint pulled herself up and off of the ancestor''s lap. It was hard, leaving behind the warmth of her sleeping body, but night had fallen, and a growling stomach told her it was time to hunt. Saint spared a final glance behind as she stood upon the threshold of the cottage. Even now, the ancestor lay still; by all appearances dead to the world.
[I am dead, little kitten. It''s important that I play the part, lest some annoying heavenly principles take notice and interfere. Still too early for me to be up and about, I''m afraid; the System will suffice for now.]
This meant little to Saint, who vaguely understood the System as a bunch of floating boxes that showed up every now and again, none of which made sense to her: Saint, being a cat, did not know how to read. Fortunately, the voice in her head told her which buttons to press, and how to activate her abilities, so it all worked out just fine in the end. Slipping out into the night, Saint blinked rapidly, forcing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Lingering hues of yellow and blue were shed, rendering the world in greyscale.
[Think of what you want, affix it clearly to the forefront of your mind.]
That was easy enough to do, Saint conjuring up a vivid image of three plump rats, ripe for the taking.
[Beneath your meal, a plate bearing an Eagle''s head, in a room of white marble. Desire begets thought, willed into reality. Grab the power at the base of your tail, and press every button that appears for you.]
Saint closed her eyes, clearing away distractions to better form a complex image in her mind. Her back arched, feeling the spark that accompanied the strange power she''d learned to trust.
[Insufficient clarity to Teleport safely. Continue? Y
Insufficient detail for temporal accuracy. Enter the timestream blind? Y
WARNING! High likelihood of entering hostile Dungeon. Proceed? Y]
Three mental nods later, and Saint was gone.
---
The Centurion that guarded the Academia Mortalis was not truly alive in any sense of the word. Whilst capable of some degree of thought, in the absence of greater authority taking direct control, his actions were largely predetermined according to the commands laid down by the Dungeon Master. Any who approached the gates would be judged; the unworthy were to be turned away to further prove themselves, whilst those deemed worthy would be permitted to enter the first trial. These commands were simple and absolute, and factors such as race were not considered in the slightest.
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"Your strength is self-evident, aspirant. Proceed, and find glory in battle."
Most guards would find it strange, kneeling down to speak properly to Saint in the shadow of the rising sun, but the Centurion was not most guards.
---
[Weave connection established.
Long-distance communications protocol enabled.
User: Edith Knight
Proxy: Emma Knight
Previous log on: 1 Day ago.
You have 3 unread messages!]
Emma awoke to the lovely sound of notifications arriving in rapid succession. The System helpfully informed her that it was eight in the morning, and that all three messages were marked as high priority. Also notable was her designation as Proxy; the Weave, it seemed, had finally caught up with her rather unusual situation where her ancestor was concerned.
"At least those all appeared after I woke up, rather than startling me overnight," Emma muttered, glancing at the timestamps of the incoming messages.
[Do Not Disturb is enabled by default for all users. I''m not making that mistake again.]
A quick read was enough to tell that the messages were actually useful, rather than the typical spam that got sent as ''important.'' The first message was from the Crystal Emporium; they''d somehow gotten ahold of Edith''s old banking details, and were offering to settle the outstanding two thousand Thrones Emma owed by wire transfer.
"Digital banking is a thing in the Empire? Why did we have to visit the bank again?"
[It wouldn''t have worked before; automated checks would have flagged any transactions made, given how long it had been since my last one. After the paperwork you filled in, those functions should be good to go again.]
"Huh. Well, that saves us some time at least."
Emma sent a short reply, agreeing to the transfer as stipulated in Crystal''s initial message. Apparently, the Weave was deemed safe enough for e-commerce, such that her reply would be enough to get money moving in the background.
[Debt: 2000 Thrones to Crystal''s Crystal Emporium cleared!]
That was the simplest of the three messages, as it turned out. The second message was a very politely worded plea from Marius Kimaris, asking if she would please lift the curse that was turning anything his hands touched into lead.
"This could have been one sentence," Emma retorted, staring in disgust at the three page declaration, largely written in English so old Shakespeare would have struggled to read it.
[Kimaris taught that whole family grammar, logic and rhetoric. A shame he didn''t bother adding brevity to the list. Don''t bother replying, if he''s serious about his request he''d have offered us more than just words.]
Emma was happy enough to file that message away and never look at it again, moving hurriedly on to the third and final message. This one came from Felix, and in contrast to Marius was very brief and to the point. He even included a handful of pictures for emphasis.
"Huh, so that''s where Saint ended up," Emma laughed, zooming in on the picture that showed Saint facing off against the twin lions, Dies and Nox.
The poor trial guardians were having a tough time of things; entangled in thick roots while Saint sat in the distance. A thick earthen wall hid her from view as well as the burning area of effect the twins emitted, while large stones ripped themselves free from the ground to pelt them. Not much damage had been done yet, in Emma''s eyes, but with such a difference in versatility that battle really only had a single outcome.
"Is that where the divine artefact is coming from?"
[Perhaps.]
Chapter 117: Having a Blast
Chapter 117: Having a Blast
"Should we go visit Saint?" Emma asked, glancing at her quest log as she spoke.
[All Mart (Time Limit: 5 Days)
-
Bonus Objective: Acquire a divine artefact compatible with Saint.
-
Bonus Rewards: Upgrade a random Ability and/or Trait, A large sum of Imperial money, Trait - Babble Fish upgraded to include non-humans.]
Five days wasn''t a lot of time, given the vague nature of the final bonus objective, and Emma wasn''t about to give up that reward. The money was nice, but not particularly important given her existing connections; what Emma really wanted to lock down were the ability upgrades. Her newfound command of languages had already proven their worth multiple times, while a boost to an existing ability would almost certainly be a good thing, randomness notwithstanding.
[It wouldn''t make a difference either way. Saint can get back on her own when the time is right. That said, you should probably reply to your brother.]
Emma''s reply was brief, a simple confirmation that Saint had somehow become the family cat, and that she would be annoyed if anything happened to her. Not that Emma thought that to be likely, with Edith watching from behind the scenes.
"You know, I never really thought about how much time people spend on self-maintenance," Emma grumbled, making her way to the bathroom. "Not until I stopped needing it, at least."
Sure, it was only a few minutes a day to shower, brush her teeth, and so on, but it all added up over time. Emma enjoyed her meals enough to put up with it, though.
---
Emma had just gotten dressed after her morning shower when fireworks went off in the kitchen. Either that, or gunshots; she wasn''t quite sure, having only dealt with a single old man with a rifle up close. Nothing showed up in the System either, so Emma wasn''t quite worried enough to suit up as she headed downstairs, the smell of rotten fish growing with every step. Rounding a corner, Emma walked face first into a hexagonal barrier, one that evidently stopped flesh and blood as well as her sight, but regrettably not sound or smell.
Having had quite enough of that, Emma decided she could do without her nose for a while; emerging from her homunculus body, while simultaneously ordering Eden''s Echo to store it.
[Homunculus (Level 0) stored!]
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The result was a nearly seamless transition, appearing as though Emma simply transformed from an ordinary human girl to a living suit of armor in a tenth of a second. Activating Ephemera, Emma stepped through the barrier to find Noah rolling back and forth on the floor, attempting to smother a small flame that had caught his shirt alight.
"Antipode." Emma facepalmed, as she called her summon.
The ice elemental barely fit in the room, needing to crouch just to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling, but he got the job done: picking Noah up for an ice cold hug that made the man yelp. The fire was thoroughly extinguished though, so Noah couldn''t complain too much as he was placed back on his feet.
"Note to self, carry a few jugs of water when experimenting with conjured gunpowder." Noah grunted, examining the burnt patch on his shirt with some consternation.
"Excuse me?" Emma blinked, hoping she''d misheard; but no, a glance around really found a pile of dubious black powder in the ashtray on the coffee table. "Why are you conjuring gunpowder in our living room? That''s a recipe for a second house burned down this year."
"In my defence, the old formula came out just fine. Pound for pound what I''d expect to come out of a chemistry lab; I''ve been using it in my handgun for weeks now. But for whatever reason, smokeless powder doesn''t want to cooperate with the spell."
[It''s not supposed to smell like an aquarium either. This is why apprentices usually practice their spells under supervision. Learned magic is volatile; the safeguards that make System abilities easy to use don''t exist out in the wild.]
"I know that now," Noah winced. "But I really wanted to start making some bombs for the lads, now that I have these glasses to store them in as well. Who doesn''t love making things explode?"
"Weren''t you a language analyst at MI6?" Emma couldn''t help asking. "Because that doesn''t sound like a billet for improvised explosives. You sure you weren''t doing black bags on the side?"
Any further interrogation was cut off as Noah''s barrier collapsed, cut from the top down by an oversized arrowhead wielded as a makeshift dagger. Elizabeth stepped into the room, took once glance around at the powder, Noah''s dishevelled state and the ice elemental still huddled in the room, before levelling a deeply unimpressed stare at her husband.
---
Breakfast ended up a bit later than expected, due to having to clean up the living room and purge the stench in the house. On the upside, Noah volunteered to cook as penance; he was the best chef in the house, having travelled to pretty much every NATO country in the army and taken inspiration back home with him.
"I''m surprised we still have eggs," Emma noted, between mouthfuls of sinfully sweet French toast. "Or fresh fruit and cream for that matter."
"Actually, farming was one of the easiest problems to solve. Most farmland wasn''t that densely populated, and the residents are also some of the most likely to own guns, so the survival rate wasn''t bad. It''s just been a matter of getting in contact with them; if anything, most of the survivors have more produce than they know what to do with, now that the supermarkets aren''t buying anymore."
"Industry is where the roadblocks are," Elizabeth agreed. "Magic can replicate a lot of what modern technology covered, but there was never really the need until now. The spells are being dusted off and practitioners retrained, which will take time, and there are some edge cases that aren''t covered either. Plus, the magical community was always small, so there''s a shortage of manpower across England."
[All things to be discussed at the Solstice, to be sure. On another note, before you all start talking about patrol routes, there''s one amendment that should be made for next week''s schedule.]
Chapter 118: Camouflage
Chapter 118: Camouflage
[All things to be discussed at the Solstice, to be sure. On another note, before you all start talking about patrol routes, there''s one amendment that should be made for next week''s schedule.]
"Next week''s patrol schedule?" Noah asked for confirmation. "Not today''s?"
[Correct. Have a truck swing by Woodstock, you won''t be disappointed.]
Noah pulled a map from his bag, nudging his plate out of the way to lay it flat on the table. Fortunately, this was breakfast, the one meal of the day where it was socially acceptable to read at the table.
"That shouldn''t be a problem," Noah added after a minute. "We already have someone heading for Evesham, so they can stop by along the way. What should the boys be on the lookout for?"
[They''ll know when they see it, it''s not something common in the area, or even the country.]
Noah switched out the map for a notebook, scribbling a few lines that Emma assumed related to the matter at hand. She couldn''t be too sure, as reading upside down was rather challenging, even with Noah''s impeccable handwriting to work with.
"Wouldn''t that appear on your quest log?" Emma questioned, glancing to her own, which dutifully displayed her task for the day.
"Oh it does, but I always write these things down. Old habits are hard to break, and this way, I can hand it off to others as well."
Noah was still writing away, now veering off on another tangent entirely; Emma was able to make out the word ravioli, suggesting a more general shopping list was being prepared. She excused herself from the table, leaving only Noah still seated; Elizabeth had been the first to finish by virtue of eating uninterrupted, and had left shortly after in pursuit of her own duties.
"Where can I find the patrol I''m joining for the day?" Emma remembered to ask before leaving the house, barely avoiding an embarrassing turnaround five minutes down the line.
"Head for the main vehicle pool, there''s always a guard on duty there, they can get you where you''re needed." Noah replied, not looking up from his writing.
"Thanks!"
Emma headed for the door, only to realise it was locked when she tried to turn the handle. This wasn''t a magical switch either, like the one in her bedroom, but an old fashioned keyhole for which she had nothing on hand. Emma took that as a sign to put the homunculus away, relying on her intangibility to step through the door rather than break anything. Heading outside, the streets were empty at ten in the morning, with most people gone to work. That meant there was nobody around to ask for directions, so Emma resorted to an old trick.
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Birds were an ever present fact of life in England, something the apocalypse hadn''t really affected. Emma supposed some of the larger ones might struggle for food, but there were still plenty of insects around for the average bird of prey.
[Wren - Level 0]
Toggling the System to display non-threatening lifeforms, Emma picked the first target she spotted and took over its body, granting her a bird''s eye view of the growing town (pun intended). It didn''t take long from there to spot the motor pool; a large, mostly open structure sheltered beneath a makeshift roof of corrugated iron sheets, nestled up against the northern segment of the innermost wall surrounding the residential area.
One short descent later, and Emma was on the rooftop, peering down the edge at the industry below. A pair of well-built men were busy unloading the back of a pickup truck, bringing down crates packed with canned beans, tomatoes and pasta. The truck''s hood was up, a mechanic grumbling something unintelligible as he worked on the engine; a much younger assistant, still a boy was likewise busy refuelling from a tank of diesel. A guard was also visible, true to Noah''s words; he was the only one wearing army fatigues and carrying a rifle. It wouldn''t do much against all but the smallest of demons, but it was probably enough to scare away anyone looking to steal supplies.
[Wren (Level 0) stored!]
Emerging on the rooftop, Emma shoved the small bird into Eden''s Echo; there was no reason not to give the storage item''s expansive nature, and she could see the use in having a bird in reserve. Emma sat down where the Wren had been, legs dangling over the ledge as she observed the guard patrolling. It took him five whole minutes to look up and spot her; not impressive, given Emma could have opened fire at any point before then had she been an enemy.
"Who are you? What are you doing up there?"
Ignoring the man pointing his rifle at her, Emma decided to test another of her recent abilities. The Earthbound Immortal was summoned underground, before making its way up until its head barely breached the ground, a nearly imperceptible bump in the dirt at the guard''s feet. That set up Emma to activate Parallel Lives; one moment, she was on the rooftop, and the next she was right in front of the startled guard.
[-100 Anima]
Emma took a bullet to the breastplate for that, unsurprisingly; the slight sting was well worth it to confirm the interaction between her abilities.
"I''m working heavy support for today. Dad should have told you about me?"
Noah had, which saved Emma from a second bullet, though the guard was still looking at her somewhat warily.
"You''re Emma? You look, uh, different. CO mentioned armor, but I was thinking more along the lines of Kevlar, you know?"
Emma didn''t deign to reply, merely staring at the guard in a way that she supposed could be quite intimidating in her current form.
"The raid team won''t be here for another hour," the guard continued, ever the talkative one, though he''d pointed the rifle away now, which she supposed was an improvement.
"Want one?"
Emma looked down at the offered cigarette, tilting her head. Could she smoke in her armoured form? She supposed it was worth a try.
Chapter 119: Country Roads
Chapter 119: Country Roads
"Yeah, I''m not getting anything out of this," Emma admitted, passing the cigarette back.
The men unloading had left quickly, dragging the mechanic''s assistant with them. The mechanic had gotten into the truck after finishing his work on the engine; apparently, he pulled double duty as a driver. That left only the guard from before to keep Emma company as she waited for the others to arrive.
[Status condition: Poison resisted!]
Speaking of which, it turned out she could smoke in her true form, but nicotine didn''t work properly, meaning she only got the foul taste and none of the pleasure. It wasn''t that surprising an outcome, given that alcohol had proven no more effective to date, but that was little consolation. Emma was almost tempted to bring out the homunculus for a bit, to get the proper experience, but ultimately decided not to risk it. Given the latter''s proven sensitivities concerning the realities of life, there was a non-zero chance she''d end up coughing her lungs up in broad daylight, doing her reputation a grave disservice.
"Fair enough, it''s not for everyone," The guard consoled her, before taking a long drag.
[Lighter (Half-full) obtained!]
That wasn''t to say Emma came out of the exchange empty-handed though; to her delight, Eden''s Echo worked exactly as she''d theorised, taking the lighter out of the guard''s pocket with him none the wiser. It was a good proof of concept for potential combat actions in the future, and the lighter itself was a bonus; having a convenient fire-starter on hand could never be a bad thing.
[50 EXP gained for thinking with portals.]
The rumbling of engines drew Emma out of her thoughts, turning around, she found two more pickup trucks had arrived to join the empty one from before. The main difference here was that, rather than canned food, there were two armed men riding on the back of each. One of them carried a rifle, guarding the back, while the other stood at a mounted heavy machine gun bolted to the vehicle. With their rumpled uniforms, long beards and slight potbellies, none of the men looked like the kind of soldier to feature on a recruitment poster.
[Oxford Light Cavalry - Level 3]
Emma turned a questioning glance to the guard; it had only been a few minutes, nowhere near an hour.
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"Dammit, I knew I forgot something," He cursed, fiddling with his watch. "Sorry about that, Daylight Savings got me again."
In his embarrassment, the guard turned and left with indecent haste, only resuming his slow patrol around the motor pool once he was some distance away.
"You''re our linebreaker for the day?" One of the machine gunners grunted, looking her up and down with thinly veiled scepticism.
Emma didn''t bother with a long explanation, instead opting to summon Epitaph; giving everyone present a few seconds for a good look at the blade, before switching it to bow form as she tilted her head. Dark red sparks raced up and down its limbs; emanating primal hunger for the blood of the living. Emma could relate; the past few days had been incredibly peaceful compared to her trial in the tower, and while shopping had been fun, she was more than ready for a bit of action.
"You can fight at a distance then." The man nodded, looking a lot happier now that Emma had a weapon in hand. "Good. Usually we head out in two trucks; multiple points of failure to get us all back if one fails. The Mayor''s vouching for you, so we''re bringing a third today. The empty truck''s yours, climb onboard. Our guns can take care of the small fry; anything the M2 can''t handle is yours, got it?"
[He means the heavy machine guns.]
"Got it," Emma replied verbally this time, already climbing into the back of her designated mount.
All told, it wasn''t quite the setup she was expecting; the description of a raiding party had brought to mind the APC from before, or maybe a tank squadron, not that it would pose a problem to her either way. Emma spared a thought for the Earthbound Immortal, recalling it before she got too far away, and freeing up her summon slot in case it was needed. The soldiers wasted no time; not even thirty seconds after embarking and they were already outbound. Emma just about managed not to fall over at the starting line, widening her stance to stay steady, her bow at the ready.
"So where are we headed?" She yelled over the wind.
"We''ll be doing a sweep along what used to be Oxford." Her driver replied this time. "Concentric circles, starting from just outside our fortifications, the safe zone, and heading steadily further out until we reach the edge of the old borders, five miles out. The further away from home we go, the bigger the demons will get; they''ve had six weeks to marinate so we''re expecting some dangerous ones."
"Sounds like a job for some Challenger tanks," Emma noted. "Last I heard, we had one and were looking to get more?"
"Too slow," The driver shook his head, never taking his eyes off the road. "Big guns are great for an open field, but some of the demons are a lot faster than they look, and are smart enough to know how to flank. All it takes is for one to get too close, and they''ll both shred the tank and the poor sods inside. Trust me, fast and light is the best way to go."
"No complaints here," Emma reassured him. "Whatever''s waiting for us, I''ll get us back here safely."
She had a bonus objective that depended on it, after all.
---
With a final twist of Saint''s neck, Romulus fell to the floor; his head followed moments later with a wet splat. For once, the crowd was silent, nobody knowing what to make of the unexpected challenger; who had appeared from nowhere and become only the second to go all the way. Up in the Emperor''s box, Felix facepalmed, feeling the distinct suspicion that someone was trolling him.
Chapter 120: Mountains out of Molehills
Chapter 120: Mountains out of Molehills
It was Emma''s first time riding on the back of a pickup truck; she''d only ever seen them in passing before, when tradesmen visited the house to repair one broken appliance or another. It didn''t take long at all for Emma to decide she didn''t enjoy the experience; it was a bumpy ride on concrete, and even worse during the frequent stretches where damage ahead forced the truck to go off-road. She''d somehow managed to stay on her feet thus far, but the convoy was only going thirty miles an hour, and she didn''t like her odds should that change.
Her truck was in the middle of the convoy, with one in front and one behind her, the soldiers on the back on high alert. There had been no enemies until now; which made sense, given the damage to the road indicated they were still within firing range of the town''s fixed emplacements. Predictably, the calm didn''t last long; as they looped past Oxford''s front gate and started on the third layer out, red dots began to appear sporadically on Emma''s minimap.
"Soft contact on the right!"
Belatedly, Emma realised nobody else had radios on them either, making screaming the only available form of communications. Shaking her head slightly, Emma fell to a crouch, relying on the lower centre of gravity to keep her aim stable as she prepared an arrow with 2% of her anima as the first demons emerged from the ground.
[Mole Demon - Level 5]
Oversized moles, each big enough to tower over an adult man and blessed with razor sharp claws three inches long. Their menacing appearance was somewhat undercut by beady red eyes and pink noses upturned into the air, sniffing for prey. Emma''s first arrow went wide, sailing far into the distance. Her second fared a little better, though it still struck dirt a bit too close to home. Third time''s the charm, as the old saying goes; a direct hit opening a hole in the nearest mole''s throat.
[10 EXP gained.
Objective: Eliminate 1/25 Lesser Demons]
Emma didn''t get much experience from the kill, due to the level difference, but it was still worth the attempts if only to gauge the difficulty of firing from a moving vehicle. It was a lot harder than it looked in the movies, and also harder than firing from her own mount; at least for the latter, Emma was in full control of her summon''s movement, whereas here she had to account for the actions of a separate driver. Emma wasn''t too upset though, as the two soldiers weren''t doing much better with their rifles, needing half a dozen shots each to down their targets. The heavy machine guns hadn''t fired at all, their operators deciding to save ammunition for bigger prey.
The deaths of their compatriots made the remaining moles start moving, fifteen of them waddling their way towards the trucks. They were roughly as fast as Sir Bearington at a sprint; that is to say, no more than thirty miles an hour and easily kept away from.
[10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
Objective: Eliminate 4/25 Lesser Demons]
Emma didn''t have to worry about conserving ammo; her anima returning fully so long as her aim was true. On the other hand, her rate of fire was still lacking compared to an SA 80 rifle; so she only managed to take down three more moles compared to six a piece for the riflemen. All in all, it was surprisingly relaxing, more like a day at the archery range than live combat.
"See? This is why speed is king!" The driver cackled up front. "Critters like that can outpace a tank, but they''ve no chance against a decent four wheeler."
"Yeah, I see that now." Emma agreed, eyes on the horizon in search of the next enemies to try their luck.
---
[Saint - Level 10 Druid of War]
"Congratulations?"
It came out as a question, because true to his words, Felix still wasn''t entirely sure what was going on. Saint wasn''t volunteering any information either, curled up as she was in Jen''s lap and getting her ears rubbed.
[Academia Mortalis Leaderboard
1. Revenant
2. Saint]
The System recognised her as a legitimate contender, and she''d blasted through all three trials with ease, which left only the problem of a suitable reward.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
It was a problem, because for some reason, Felix''s permissions as Dungeon Master were failing him, and nothing he tried to give the damned cat would stick.
The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
Felix had tried to offer a suit of custom-fitted armor, a spell from the Lore of the Wilds, and even some of the Thrones now sitting in his treasury after signing a franchise agreement with the Empire''s Ministry of Leisure.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
He got the same error every time, without even a useful description to help him diagnose the issue.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
"Food doesn''t work either huh?" Felix sighed.
Worst of all, his obligations as Dungeon Master wouldn''t allow him to depart until Saint received a System reward for completing the trial, which meant they were both stuck in the Colosseum until further notice.
"Maybe cat food?"
[ERROR: Access denied.]
---
Emma almost missed the arrival of the next enemy, two circles later. It was hard, spotting a small red dot that overlapped entirely with her own on the minimap, but Emma had just enough presence of mind to look up when it happened.
[10 EXP gained.
Objective: Eliminate 5/25 Lesser Demons]
Epitaph turned back into sword form, just in time to impale the enemy descending overhead. One of the soldiers managed the same, catching a bird on his rifle''s bayonet; the other wasn''t fast enough, and took a claw to the neck.
Shit.
Emma had a number of powerful abilities by this point, but none of them were able to heal an ally; that was bad, when bright red arterial blood flowed freely. That left only one option to guarantee the soldier''s survival: grimacing, Emma extended her will and absorbed him into Eden''s Echo.
[Soldier (Level 3) stored]
The storage item would hold him in stasis and gradually heal him, but in the meantime, that left them a man down to face the enemy.
[Crane Demon - Level 5]
---
Status Update
Practitioner Emma Knight - Level 13 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 5000
-
EXP: 6410/7000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph} (Cost: 20% current Anima)
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows made of anima. The more anima invested, the more powerful the shot; the arrows can also apply the effects of other Weapon Enhancements.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining the ability to summon a simulacrum of equal level as the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 1 hour cooldown when simulacrum is defeated. Captured:
-
The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode
-
Weeping Scar: Wounds inflict periodic poison damage until they are healed.
-
Can I Play with Madness?: The first Wound dealt to an enemy inflicts a random Status Condition.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living, lower-level target within the user''s line of sight. No component of this ability will activate unless the target can be possessed.
-
Ephemera (Cost: 1% base Anima /second): Become intangible while active, able to pass unhindered through physical objects and blows.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 days): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, inflicting Instant Death to anyone who saw it.
-
Null and Void (Cost: 5% base Anima): Disrupt a spell before casting completes.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home.
Traits
-
Arcanivore: Enemies restore Anima when wounded or slain.
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (TOGGLE: OFF): When active, attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 1 hour): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
It''s About Time: Immune to Time Magic (ineffective against casters 30+ Levels higher).
-
Babble Fish: You are fluent in every language known by the System.
-
Divine Conduit (Anathema): ?
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce inaccurate, nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent towards you. You will be alerted when observation commences.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo
A ring containing fifty cubic meters of storage space, capable of instant item transfer. Living beings stored are held in stasis and gradually healed of any ailments. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who may not wear any other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
Homunculus (Level 0)
-
Wren (Level 0)
-
Saddlebag
-
50 Thrones
-
Canned Cat Food (Open)
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
-
Lighter (Half-full)
-
Soldier (Level 3)
Quests
All Mart (Time Limit: 5 Days)
-
Bonus Objective: Acquire a divine artifact compatible with Saint.
-
Bonus Rewards: Upgrade a random Ability and/or Trait, A large sum of Imperial money, Trait - Babble Fish upgraded to include non-humans.
One Small Favour
-
Objective: Eliminate 5/25 Lesser Demons
-
Objective: Eliminate 5 Greater Demons
-
Bonus Objective: Get the patrol home with no casualties.
-
Bonus Objective: ???
-
Reward: 500 EXP
-
Bonus Rewards: Random upgrade for Homunculus (Level 0), ???
Level Up
Level 13 - Select one of the following three options:
1) Ability - Curse of the Broken Mirror: May you live in interesting times. Afflicts targets with a curse that turns luck against them. May be active on [Level/10] targets at a time.
2) Ability - The Promised Hour: Dulce et decorum est, Pro patria mori. Declare an hour of the day; until that hour, you cannot die. Once you reach that hour, death is certain. Once the hour is chosen, it can no longer be changed.
3) Item - Black Candle: All shall be well. When lit, this candle consumes all nearby light, leaving a bubble of impenetrable darkness.
Chapter 121: Free Bird
Chapter 121: Free Bird
[Crane Demon - Level 5]
The bird-shaped demons weren''t particularly dangerous, in Emma''s estimation. At less than half her size and weight, they simply didn''t output enough force by beak or claw to pierce her armour.
[10 EXP gained.
Objective: Eliminate 6/25 Lesser Demons]
Emma didn''t even need her weapon; one punch being enough to bring down her attacker. Unfortunately, the rest of the patrol weren''t clad in full plate, and the demons were clever enough to target their exposed vitals. Adding to the annoyance, the birds proved remarkably agile in the air for their size, ducking and weaving and easily avoiding her arrows.
Emma found herself envying the firepower of the remaining rifleman; whilst she was capable of far greater damage with enough anima invested, none of that mattered if she couldn''t hit the target. Falling into a support role, Emma began to hold back her arrows, waiting for the demons to lock in their dive path before firing. They''d learnt the futility of going for her after a few grazing blows achieved nothing, so Emma was effectively playing bodyguard for the more vulnerable soldiers.
[10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
Objective: Eliminate 9/25 Lesser Demons]
Emma managed a couple kills in this way, but even her misses served their purpose in forcing the enemy to dodge, aborting their attack runs in the process. No longer needing to worry for his own safety, the remaining rifleman downed five birds in a single magazine, whilst the two machine gunners opted to conserve ammo for the M2s, drawing Glock 17 pistols to add supporting fire into the mix and bagging a pair of birds each with precise bursts of semi-automatic fire.
I should get some guns, Emma decided as the patrol took down the last of the Crane Demons. No reason not to, now that I have the space for it.
[Having more weapons is never a bad thing. Whilst small arms won''t do much against the more formidable threats, those will always be in the minority. Even after the apocalypse, humans are still the most numerous species by a considerable margin.]
Emma was thrown out of her thoughts - and nearly off her feet - as her ride came to a sudden stop. The machine gunner in the truck behind her jumped off his seat, grabbing a briefcase labelled ''First Aid'' before pausing, looking around with deepening confusion.
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"He took a bad cut to the neck, so I put him in here," Emma called over, pointing at the ring on her finger. "As long as he''s inside he should slowly heal, and at the very least won''t get any worse."
"Is that so?" The gunner grunted, eyes narrowing as he spotted the bloodstains on the floor. "Tch, bright red. You got a way to check his condition?"
Belatedly, Emma realised that Eden''s Echo was invisible to others; the gunner didn''t interrupt though, so she assumed he''d seen enough weirdness since the apocalypse to take her word for it.
"Not without taking him out."
"Leave it until we''re back home," he decided, climbing back into his seat. "If the cut''s deep enough, there''s nothing we can do out here without a proper medical tent."
"Are we calling off the trip?" Emma asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.
"Depends," the rifleman up front cut into the conversation. "Can that ring of yours store an entire truck?"
Glancing down, Emma tried to take a best estimate of her ride; it wouldn''t be exact, but she doubted it was any longer than fifteen metres.
"Easily."
"Great. We''ll shrink down to two technicals, if you can keep pace without one?"
The driver of Emma''s ride ran out, now carrying a rifle of his own that was stored in the front as he replaced the stricken rifleman at the back. Taking this as her cue, Emma pulled the entirety of the vehicle that she alone occupied into Eden''s Echo.
[Ford Ranger (2015) stored.
Wren (Level 0) withdrawn.]
In went the truck and out came the bird Emma stashed before departure; a quick application of Oversoul allowing her to settle into the tiny Wren. She flew three circles around the remaining convoy before settling onto the roof of the back truck, ready to keep going.
"Damn, wonder if I could learn to do that," the rifleman muttered, before turning away and saying something to his driver.
Emma wasn''t quite able to hear what was said, but a few moments later they were moving once more.
---
[ERROR: Access denied.]
Half an hour later, Felix was officially pissed off. After his first dozen guesses had all failed, he''d basically resorted to the brute force approach of running down every item available as a reward, in hopes of finding one that fit.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
Unfortunately, he''d never thought to encounter such as situation, and thus hadn''t built in a framework to issue rewards in bulk.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
Which meant he had to manually select each option in the administrator''s console, and see what happened.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
Saint, for her part, was now sat in front of him, offering nothing except a smug smile.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
She was also remarkably agile, and dodged his ill-tempered kick with ease.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
Even ordering his minions to grab and throttle Saint didn''t work; since she was officially designated as a trial champion, she was untouchable according to the Dungeon''s rules until and unless she broke them herself.
[ERROR: Access denied.]
Regrettably, merely being annoying did not qualify as a violation, so Felix was stuck.
[Reward accepted!]
When finally, one of his offered items made the cut, he didn''t even realise it until he automatically reached for the next item on the list, only to find that it had vanished.
"It worked? It worked! Thank God!"
Only after a long sigh of relief did he finally check the console to see exactly what he''d given the cat.
[Potted Hydra: A flowerpot filled with blessed soil, containing a seed that will one day grow into a fearsome nine-headed Hydra. Water regularly with fresh blood!]
"What the fuck?" Felix blinked. "Why do we even have that in stock?"
Chapter 122: Wood
Chapter 122: Wood
Emma took to the skies once the convoy (now down to two trucks) started moving again, hovering above them and focusing her attention on potential threats from the sky. While the demons that appeared thus far had died fairly easily, ambush notwithstanding, Emma didn''t believe for one second that that would remain the case. Her quest and prior intelligence alike indicated the presence of greater demons, none of which had shown themselves yet; it was the whole reason she was present after all.
That said, they were certainly taking their time; the convoy completed a fourth and fifth circuit without encountering any further resistance. By the time the sixth revolution began, Emma was forced to descend for a rest on the truck; the wren was still young, and her wings were tired, unused to sustained flight at high altitude. Predictably, that was when the next wave arrived to cause some trouble.
"Incoming!"
[Wren (Level 0) stored.]
Emma emerged in full armour as dots appeared at the edge of her map; still too far away to lay eyes on the enemy. They didn''t seem to have the same issue; judging by the boulders flying towards them in a primitive but nonetheless deadly barrage. Although, given none of them came close to the convoy, even as it slowed to turn towards the source of fire, they might simply be firing blindly for all Emma knew.
"Change of plans."
Sir Bearington appeared below Emma, cushioning her fall as she transitioned from flying to riding, her mount receiving orders to sprint straight ahead at full speed. Meanwhile, she reached for the System and locked in an option from some time ago.
[Lighter (Half-full) withdrawn.
Level Up, Level 13 selection locked in!
Black Candle: When lit, this consumes all nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.]
Strictly speaking, Emma wasn''t too worried for herself, but the likelihood of human forces on the other side made things a lot more dangerous for the convoy; enough for her to invest in a smokescreen. Putting her pilfered lighter to good use, she lit the thin taper atop the candle, and the light died. Emma was no stranger to the night sky, even before the apocalypse; she''d gone camping often enough, setting up tents in quiet woodlands away from the ever-present light pollution of the cities and even the suburbs. Most nights were like that now; the stars were actually visible so long as the sky was clear.
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This was not merely nighttime; this was absolute darkness, so black it drowned the senses entirely. Emma pressed a palm to her visor, hard enough to be felt through her muted sense of pain; even this close, she couldn''t see a hint of the hand she knew to be there. Unfortunately, this meant she had no sense of how far the cover extended either; hopefully, it was wide enough to provide meaningful cover for the trucks as they followed her. The only saving grace was that her minimap still worked, providing helpful signposts to run towards; without those, Emma genuinely feared getting turned around and running into her own convoy.
Onward Sir Bearington ran, through darkness punctuated by sporadic bursts of gunfire and the occasional thud as a boulder landed nearby. Already, the red dots were getting closer, and the first name tags were coming into view.
[Elderwood Demon - Level 15]
The Greater Demons finally came out to play, Emma thought, picturing a larger and meaner version of the corrupted trees she''d fought outside the old family home. There were five of them in total, surrounded by masses of lesser demons along with some very unwelcome company.
[Deadwood Demon - Level 5]
[Goetian Enforcer - Level 10 Warlock]
Not demons then, but the summoners, Emma realised, recalling her lessons from Princess Astaroth. These aren''t just generic enemies coming out of excess mana, this was planned.
The dots were growing ever thicker, and the front row nearly upon her. Deeming herself too close to get hit by boulders given the flight arc required, Emma smothered the candle flame between her fingers, and then there was light.
As it turned out, the Elderwood Demons were pretty similar to her imagination, with the difference being a grotesquely disproportional right arm; several times larger than the left and nearly half the size of the torso. As she watched, one pulled a clump of soil from the ground, packed it together with a single squeeze, and let loose with a mighty overhand throw. Around them, smaller trees circled the wagons, whilst hiding in their midst were a bare handful of men wearing deep purple robes and cowls hiding any and all identifying features. They looked like stereotype fantasy cultists, which only made the M4 Carbines they carried look even further out of place.
[The House of Amdusias? Curious, I haven''t offended them in years.]
Rapid-fire popping filled Emma''s ears as the M2s finally opened fire, targeting the nearest Elderwood Demon. Before her eyes, the brown wood comprising its body cracked, red lines running through the gaps as they turned grey. After five seconds of focused fire failed to leave a scratch, the heavy machine guns turned to the smaller targets in surrender.
[Active countermeasures. That''s not a natural ability of demons at this level, they''re being enhanced.]
"Kill the warlocks first, got it," Emma murmured, ordering Sir Bearington to disappear.
"Antipode, you''re up."
Chapter 123: Miss Fortune
Chapter 123: Miss Fortune
[Lighter (half-full) stored.
Black Candle stored.]
Emma spent the half-second of transition clearing her hand accessories, before calling Epitaph back to sword form. Just in time, as her summon appeared and all hell broke loose.
[10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
Objective updated: Eliminate 14/25 Lesser Demons]
Antipode made quite the grand entrance, appearing above one of the warlocks and squashing him flat; whatever protections he had on hand wholly insufficient against several hundred pounds of ice landing on him. The fireballs that accompanied him also played their part, burning through any Deadwood Demons unfortunate enough to be near them. The single Elderwood Demon to be hit reeled, backpedalling with surprising speed to get himself clear, his left hand burning merrily all the while.
Demonstrating improved intelligence compared to its lesser brethren, the Elderwood tore off his injured arm off at the shoulder, casting it away before the flames could spread to the rest of him. Not the best result, but at least it confirmed that their protection against bullets didn''t extend any further than that. The response from the survivors, meanwhile, was decidedly mixed.
The Elderwood Demons opted to ignore Antipode entirely; charging instead towards trucks and the heavy machine guns cutting a swathe through the lesser demons. The convoy was leading them on a careful chase, staying too close to be hit by boulders but far enough to avoid being grabbed; they looked to be doing well enough that Emma was comfortable leaving them to it.
[10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
Objective updated: Eliminate 17/25 Lesser Demons]
The majority of the lesser demons did the opposite, swarming the nearest enemy and attempting to drag Antipode down by sheer weight of numbers by clambering all over the elemental even as they froze to death, a few even hurling themselves into his flame orbs in a futile attempt to redirect them. Only those closest to Emma noticed her at all, attempting to strike her with clumsy swipes of their branching limbs.
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[10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
10 EXP gained.
Objective updated: Eliminate 20/25 Lesser Demons]
Emma didn''t even bother dodging; the minimal damage inflicted upon her fully healed with each swipe of her blade in return. They might have posed a threat to Emma prior to entering Scholomance, but as she was now, she barely had to try. To be clear, the result would have been similar no matter how many of the lesser demons were present; they were only sideshows to the main event that would decide the course of this battle.
[Goetian Enforcer - Level 10 Warlock]
Five warlocks remained, spread loosely enough amongst the demons that Antipode hadn''t been able to catch any beyond the first. Two of them stood at the back of the mob with arms raised, staring at the sky as they chanted; red lines tracing their veins and pulsing in time with their heartbeat, identical to those protecting the Elderwood Demons. As for the remaining three...
Emma activated Ephemera as the first warlock opened fire with his M4, running towards the gunman as bursts of semi-automatic fire passed harmlessly through her.
[-300 Anima.]
Until the second warlock placed a hand on the shooter, his eyes bleeding. Suddenly, both warlocks looked rather transparent, and shots began to land. On a hunch, Emma deactivated Ephemera, and the bullets started bouncing harmlessly off of her; now unable to harm solid matter due to their own intangibility. That surprise bought her enough time to close the distance, a single swing of Epitaph taking the gunman''s head.
No experience again, Emma frowned, having gotten nothing from either Warlock thus far.
That trend held even as she surged forward, Null and Void interrupting her remaining opponent before he could unleash an unknown spell and allowing Emma to impale him through the heart. This time, Emma consciously attempted to draw out her victim''s soul, to bind him as she had several prior bosses. She knew it wouldn''t work every time, but even so the complete lack of reaction put her on edge. Likewise, the third warlock had completely ignored the death of his comrades; his carbine pointed to the floor as he stared intently at Emma while whispering softly into a handset.
Is that an iPhone? Emma stared, even pausing in her advance as she double checked that the familiar rectangular object was what it appeared to be. How is it still getting a signal?
"...My apologies."
The warlock spoke aloud, putting his phone away.
"Your demonstration is outside the parameters of my investigation, beyond the aspects common to all System users. We won''t trouble you any longer."
[-100 Anima]
If his words caught Emma off guard, the explosion that followed was even worse; the shock wave knocking her back a few steps as all three remaining warlocks exploded in clouds of gore.
"What the hell?"
Emma stared at the mess for a few moments longer, before shaking her head and checking her notifications.
[50 EXP gained.
Objective: Eliminate 25 Lesser Demons complete!]
Antipode had finished off the last of the lesser demons, but that still left the five big ones chasing the convoy. They were all injured to varying degrees now; no longer immune to gunfire with the departure of the warlocks buffing them, but their sheer toughness meant there was still work to be done.
---
"Another dead end," Matriarch Amdusias sighed, putting her phone down. "A necromancer class of some sort, swords and arrows and summons; nothing to indicate a familiarity with Curse Magic."
"The dharma detectors didn''t go off either," Her daughter added, looking rather put out. "Emma Knight has no tangible link to Marius Kimaris."
"It was a long shot anyway," The Matriarch consoled her. "One we wouldn''t have even attempted if not for her resistance to divination. Still, that''s another name struck off the list. There aren''t that many System users in England, we''ll find the culprit eventually."
Chapter 124: To The Place I Belong
Chapter 124: To The Place I Belong
Now that Emma was no longer under fire, it was a simple matter to turn her bow on the big Elderwood Demons. They were looking quite tattered by now, dozens of small holes apparent on each of them, but chasing gamely after the two Ford Rangers. With solid ground beneath her feet and targets moving fairly predictably, Emma landed five shots in quick succession, making sure to tag each of the demons to ensure her contribution counted for her quest. These were the first enemies of the day capable of surviving a shot, which meant its was time for her Weapon Enhancements to shine.
[Wolf, Ram and Heart toggled ON.
Status Condition: Freeze applied.
Status Condition: Burn applied.
Status Condition: Poison Vulnerability applied.
Status Condition: Sleep resisted.
Status Condition: Instant Death applied.]
The first froze in place, becoming the target of choice for the convoy''s guns. It also made him considerably more brittle, enough for five seconds of focused fire to shatter it to pieces.
[50 EXP gained (50% group allocation)
Objective updated: Eliminate 1/5 Greater Demons]
The second continued to plod along, even as its bark melted, turning to a sticky sap that slowed its steps. The third keeled over almost immediately, the synergy of Poison Vulnerability and the damage from Weeping Scars killing him within seconds.
[50 EXP gained (50% group allocation)
Objective updated: Eliminate 2/5 Greater Demons]
The fourth defied the negative superstitions surrounding its number, being the only one to receive a condition that had no effect; as a being that was essentially mana given form and anger issues, demons could not and did not sleep. The fifth, on the other hand, claimed the unluckiest slot of all, dying the moment Emma''s arrow struck true.
[50 EXP gained (50% group allocation)
Objective updated: Eliminate 3/5 Greater Demons]
The convoy shifted attention, turning to the most injured of the two remaining demons. Its burning body proved much softer under fire, no longer possessing unnatural durability and allowing the fifty calibre rounds to go from an annoyance to the death they typically represented. Emma, meanwhile, took two more shots to down the fifth and final demon; each filled with forty percent of her anima.
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[50 EXP gained (50% group allocation)
50 EXP gained (50% group allocation)
Objective complete: Eliminate 5 Greater Demons
Quest - One Small Favour standard objectives complete!
500 EXP gained.
Level up!
Practitioner Emma Knight - Level 14 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 5000
-
EXP: 7360/8000
For levelling up while fighting in its defence, all selections for Level 14 involve your Home!
Select
two of the following:
1) Gondor Calls for Aid... - Cooldown of Return (Trait) resets when your Home is in mortal danger.
2) Strong and Stable - One simulacrum from No Pal of Mine (Weapon Enhancement) can be assigned to protect your Home; it will respawn automatically when destroyed (subject to ordinary cooldown) and does not count against your summon limit. While on assignment, the simulacrum cannot go further than 100 meters from your Home.
3) Home Alone - Your home phases out of existence when nobody is inside, protecting it from all damage not specifically calibrated to breach alternate dimensions.
4) Home Is Where the Hearth Is - Experience gains are doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.]
As was becoming a habit, Emma took a glance at the skill selections, and upon seeing nothing immediately useful dismissed the notification for later consideration. Also dismissed were Antipode and Epitaph, no longer required now that her minimap was entirely clear of enemies. The convoy, meanwhile, lacked the certainty that Emma got from the System; it took a full minute before the inertia of their fight or flight response dampened, and they slowed to a halt, letting her climb onto the back once more.
"Well that was exciting," The machine gunner laughed, patting his M2 affectionately in spite of the heat wafting off of the barrels. "We should probably call it here though, ammo''s running low."
There was a bit of grumbling at that, the riflemen in particular still fired up after being unable to contribute against the big demons, but nobody disagreed. Emma, meanwhile, had her eyes on the hidden bonus objective, the purpose of which had yet to be revealed. Initially she''d thought it involved the Goetian warlocks, but that no longer seemed likely given their departure.
[Speaking of those Warlocks, they''re not dead.]
I thought something was up, Emma admitted. After all this time, it''s plain odd to land a direct hit and not get an EXP notification.
[The bodies were real, but that means very little. I suspect they were housed in homunculi similar to your own, being controlled from a distance. Little more than flesh and blood drones, without any soul to speak of.]
That would explain why I couldn''t grab them with Epitaph. Even most enemies I fail to bind react a little in the process.
"If we''re heading back, want me to speed things up?" Emma offered. "I can store you all in my ring and teleport the whole way."
That idea got a far better reception from the crowd; chatter breaking out immediately over each soldier''s preferred meal. Belatedly, Emma realised she hadn''t eaten anything since breakfast, which had been quite some time ago; the convoy was likely in the same boat, hence their eagerness.
"So, how does this work?" One of the drivers asked.
"You''ll be held in stasis while inside, so it''ll be like no time passed at all."
Seeing no complaints, Emma drew everyone into Eden''s Echo, the process instantaneous as always.
[Return activated.]
---
Saint grinned, stalking forward to grab the Potted Hydra between both paws. Without so much as a word to Felix, she plopped herself down and mentally reached for the glowing blue box that the ancestor said would take her home.
"Hold on a minute, you still haven''t explained-"
Was the last thing Saint heard before the Roman amphitheatre vanished from sight.
[Return activated.]
Messed up the chapter days.
So I''m not sure why, but when I put out the latest Chapter 123, it''s listed as published 4 months ago. Also I''m pretty sure no notification went out, as only one person was reading it in the minutes after, when almost always there would be 10+ visible on the chapter. While trying to fix this I managed to accidentally push out Chapter 124, which is listed as being published 14 days ago. Once again, no notification sent out (I followed and enabled notifications on my own fic to check).
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The takeaway from this is that I should probably be banned from using technology, but on the plus side you have 2 chapters available tonight. Posting this to let you know what happened, and also so there''s an actual alert going out for anyone reliant on email/push notifications.
Chapter 125: Like A Surgeon
Chapter 125: Like A Surgeon
Emma arrived outside her house, and got all of five seconds to appreciate the smooth transition before Saint landed on her head.
¡°Why are you like this?¡±
When both her arms combined failed to dislodge Saint¡¯s death grip on her head, Emma reached up and attempted to store the cat; safe in the knowledge that unlike the Inventory from before, Eden¡¯s Echo wouldn¡¯t react explosively to living beings.
[AttributeError: ''Series'' object has no attribute ''value'']
The attempt fizzled, and Saint¡¯s claws dug in even deeper. Now getting a bit fed up, Emma resorted to Ephemera, spending three seconds intangible as Saint fell through her transparent form and landed on her back with a thud. Stepping over the prone feline, Emma eventually caught sight of Saint¡¯s payload and the objective of her grand adventure; an innocuous looking potted plant with barely a hint of green emerging from the soil.
[Potted Hydra: A flowerpot filled with blessed soil, containing a seed that will one day grow into a fearsome nine-headed Hydra. Water regularly with fresh blood!
Bonus Objective: Acquire a divine artefact compatible with Saint complete!
Quest - All Mart complete!
5000 Thrones received.
Trait - Babble Fish upgraded to Babble Fish+
-
Babble Fish: You are fluent in every language known by the System >> Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language known by the System, with newly encountered languages added retroactively.
Weapon Enhancement - Can I Play with Madness? Upgraded to We¡¯re All Mad Here
-
Can I Play with Madness?: The first Wound dealt to an enemy inflicts a random Status Condition. >> We¡¯re All Mad Here: The first Wound dealt to an enemy inflicts 1 of 3 Status Conditions (User¡¯s choice).
Quest received!
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms.
-
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood.
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Reward: A powerful ally from the Age of Myth, Saint¡¯s Divine Item
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
-
Bonus Reward: ???]
¡°Excuse me?¡±
Emma stared at Saint, who duly met her gaze from the floor, wagging her fluffy tail playfully but offering no answers. An impromptu staring contest began, one that Emma was destined to withdraw from first on account of actually having things to do during the day. Deciding to think about her sudden windfall later, Emma began a fast jog towards the hospital tent, mindful of the wounded man kept alive by Eden¡¯s Echo. Saint watched Emma go, not taking her eyes off the latter until she faded from view. Only then did Saint pick herself up, stalk imperiously up to the front door, and knock, demanding entry, pets and food.
¡ª
Upon arriving at the medical tent (now technically a log cabin, but she still remembered the location as a tent), Emma opted to release the uninjured men first. The remaining rifleman (and driver substitute) landed on their feet, whilst both machine gunners and active drivers fell flat on their ass; leaving Eden¡¯s Echo in the same positions in which they entered. That was more or less expected, and not an issue. More problematic was the sudden projectile vomiting that followed, courtesy of one driver. Emma froze, her concern for his well-being weighed against the unpleasant prospect of approaching him; in the end, her decision came down to the lack of concern shown by the man¡¯s comrades.
¡°Three hundred micrograms of hyoscine hydrobromide before any long distance travel,¡± A bored medic drawled; poking his head out of the cabin at the sound of the driver retching. ¡°That was your prescription, if I¡¯m not mistaken.¡±
¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d need it, since I was at the wheel,¡± The stricken driver managed to moan.
¡°Plans change,¡± Emma sighed, relieved that it was only motion sickness, while noting the potential side-effect of travelling via storage item.
The other soldiers were fine, and took the initiative to huddle with the medic, beginning a lively discussion regarding the traumatic neck injury suffered by the only casualty of the trip. Emma was happy to let them take the lead; she¡¯d never had medical training beyond basic first aid, and could barely understand the terms being thrown around as is. Leaning against the cabin wall, she busied herself examining her updated Status page, until the medic finally waved her inside.
¡°We wouldn¡¯t normally allow you in here, but I¡¯m told you need to manually release the patient,¡± The medic remarked, as he opened the door to what Emma thought was a well-stocked operating theatre (her points of reference being Scrubs and Gray¡¯s Anatomy.) A surgeon was masking up by the empty bed, while two assistants laid out tools, medicine and blood bags. A third orderly was reading off a chart and comparing what she saw to the labels on each blood, while the fourth carried what Emma recognised as a portable defibrillator..
¡°Please release the patient onto the bed, and keep a tight hold of him. From his perspective, he¡¯s still in the middle of the battlefield, so try and keep him from thrashing while we sedate him.¡±
Right, I can do that.
Emma positioned herself by the bed, the surgeon stepping back to make way for her and an orderly carrying a long needle. Emma turned to the surgeon, tilting her head.
¡°All ready, let him out.¡±
The first hint that something was wrong? The time it took to get the wounded man out. Every other transition had been instant, but not him; no, he was remarkably resistant, emerging first as a blurry outline of a person that gradually filled itself in, one layer at a time. That was enough for Emma to become suspicious, and summon her sword.
[Wolf, Ram and Heart Toggle: OFF]
Emma reigned in her magic, wanting to minimise damage to the operating theatre and bystanders, even as she positioned her blade at the emerging man¡¯s neck. The second sign of alarm? The name tag that followed.
[Matriarch¡¯s Scorn - Level 10 Infiltrator]
Emma didn¡¯t wait for a third sign, Swinging Epitaph in a decapitating blow the moment the possessed man fully emerged, his skin pale as marble and his eyes burning red.
[One Small Favour
Bonus Objective: Get the patrol home with no casualties complete!
Bonus Objective updated!
??? >> Subdue the Matriarch¡¯s Scorn without killing it.]
Chapter 126: What Does the Fox Say?
Chapter 126: What Does the Fox Say?
[Bonus Objective updated!
??? >> Subdue the Matriarch¡¯s Scorn without killing it.]
Emma cursed, twisting her wrists just in the nick of time to land a blow with the flat of her blade instead of the edge. The force of it sent the Matriarch¡¯s Scorn flying off the table, barely missing the surgeon as the latter dove for cover, but crucially his head remained attached to the rest of him. Tossing Epitaph aside, Emma dove on top of him and began to grapple.
[-200 Anima]
She took an elbow to the face for her trouble, causing enough pain to be noticeable even through the dulled senses of her armour.
Unnaturally strong, Emma realised at once, as she struggled to hold the possessed man in place.
She¡¯d expected to be dealing with a severely wounded man, not whatever this was turning out to be, and her limitations quickly became apparent. Emma¡¯s body¡¯s size and weight played against her; she still had the edge in strength, but lacked the bulk to easily pin her opponent and keep him down. That, combined with a reluctance to apply deadly force, left Emma with few options but to grab his limbs and hope for the best.
[-200 Anima]
Unfortunately, two hands weren¡¯t enough to cover four limbs, leaving her exposed to blows as the Matriarch¡¯s Scorn continued to flail wildly without a care for its own well-being.
¡°Sedatives!¡± The surgeon yelled, having recovered from his shock enough to grab a needle, his voice spurring his assistants to do likewise.
But whilst that meant all five of them were armed and ready, getting close enough to make the sedatives count was another matter entirely. The medics were understandably wary of the patient¡¯s limbs, given that even a glancing kick left a noticeable dent in the cabin wall; none of them had Emma¡¯s durability if things went badly. They took turns cautiously approaching, but every time they got close their target¡¯s flailing increased in intensity, the Matriarch¡¯s Scorn never leaving enough time for anyone to try and inject.
[-200 Anima]
¡°Sod it.¡±
Eventually, after a minute that saw a total lack of progress, whilst Emma took a vicious headbutt trying to hold the patient still, one of the orderlies lost patience. Pulling a dart pistol from the medicine cabinet, he shot the struggling man in the thigh, then loaded a second needle and did it again.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
[-100 Anima]
Unlike in certain spy films, the tranquillisers didn¡¯t take effect immediately; Emma still had to keep the man occupied while the Ketamine started to work, a gradual process that saw her opponent steadily weaken, his movements losing ferocity and speed over two very long minutes.
¡°Finally,¡± Emma sighed as the man slackened, his eyes going glassy as he began to dissociate.
[Bonus Objective: Subdue the Matriarch¡¯s Scorn without killing it. (Complete)
Quest: One Small Favour (Complete)
Homunculus (Level 0) >> Half-Demon Homunculus (Level 1)
Half-Demon Homunculus (Level 1): An artificial body in Emma''s original likeness. Now with extra damnation.
System integration complete.
Homunculus is now eligible for Goetian classes upon level up.
For resolving one thread of a nasty plot, you gain a Fox (Level 0)]
One big, red and bushy-tailed fox landed on the hospital bed, took a slow look around the room¡¯s gobsmacked occupants, and promptly began to chew on the bed sheet.
¡°Very funny,¡± The shooter deadpanned, head turning back and forth between his dart pistol and the fox. ¡°I know this is only supposed to be for animal use, but you didn¡¯t have to rub it in.¡±
¡°He doesn¡¯t look very injured,¡± The surgeon observed, kneeling down to examine the sleeping man on the floor. ¡°Are you sure he took a claw to the neck?¡±
¡°Right along the side, just here,¡± Emma confirmed, tracing a line with her fingertip for emphasis.
[Possession is generally a bad thing, but there are some benefits; healing for one.]
¡°Well, he looks fine now. Physically, at least,¡± The surgeon added, taking his pulse for good measure. ¡°Let¡¯s get him restrained in a secure room, in case he¡¯s angry when he wakes up again.¡±
Settling back into the detached professionalism of a man who made a career in high-stakes operations, he barked out orders that saw the four orderlies grab a limb each, bodily pulling the unconscious man out of the operating theatre. The surgeon himself was quick to follow, grabbing the patient''s chart along the way and closing the door behind him. Abruptly forgotten about, Emma turned to the only other person in the room. The fox stared back in confusion.
¡°Let¡¯s agree that the last five minutes never happened, alright?¡±
The fox whined, both cheeks bulging with cloth.
¡ª
Noah rose from his desk, wringing his wrists to work some of the soreness away. With computers a thing of the past, all the documentation involved in managing the growing town was being done the old fashioned way; with pen, paper, and more writing than he¡¯d done since he was a schoolboy. The knocking at the door was a welcome distraction; a reminder to get up, stretch and walk around for a bit. He took a minute to do so, before heading to see who was there; most people needing him left a note at the office rather than coming to his home. He saw nobody upon opening the door, until something jumped onto his shoulders.
¡°Oh, you¡¯re back,¡± Noah smiled, reaching around to pet Saint. ¡°Eating well too, given how heavy you are now!¡±
He got a smack to the nose for the temerity of mentioning a lady¡¯s weight, making him sneeze and tilt his head downward; coincidentally, this left him at the perfect angle to spot the potted plant on the floor.
¡°Did someone bring flowers?¡± Noah wondered. ¡°I¡¯ve talked to a few people about sprucing up the garden, now that the house is seeing regular use.¡±
[Potted Plant: Harmless to you.]
Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Noah headed outside with Saint still hanging off of him, Noah looking for a good place for the pot.
Chapter 127: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Chapter 127: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Nobody returned for Emma in the aftermath, leaving her to watch her new pet make a mess of the operating theatre. She was almost tempted to go search for the medics, but after thinking it through, she concluded that they weren¡¯t her problem anymore; the possessed man wasn¡¯t that strong, and hadn¡¯t demonstrated any abilities that a solid set of chains wouldn¡¯t deal with. In any event, Emma wasn¡¯t responsible for the entire town; she¡¯d played her part by getting the patrol back alive, so the rest was up to them. That said, Emma wasn¡¯t against adding a bit of insurance for her own home; just in case the Matriarch¡¯s Scorn broke out and had a grudge.
[Gondor Calls for Aid locked in. Return upgraded!
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.]
Deciding to head home for the day, Emma reached for the Fox, intent on bringing it along for the ride
[-1 Anima].
¡°Still hungry huh,¡± Emma chuckled, flicking the fox on the nose with her free hand and making it whine; and more importantly stop biting her finger.
[Canned Cat Food (Open) withdrawn.]
With a reward now on offer, the fox proved much happier to be picked up, letting Emma pull it into a birthday carry. To her slight surprise, the rest of the soldiers were still outside when she left the hospital, a few eyebrows raised at her newfound pet.
¡°How is he?¡± One of the machine gunners asked on behalf of the group.
¡°He¡¯s fine now, physically at least. Mentally? He was badly startled coming out of storage, and spent the whole time thrashing about. I had to help the doctor sedate him for treatment; he probably won¡¯t be awake for a while now.¡±
¡°Ah. Not surprising, given the circumstances,¡± The machine gunner rubbed his chin in thought. ¡°We¡¯ll have to make an appointment to visit, probably tomorrow. I can take care of that; but in the meanwhile, can we have our rides back? We need them back at the motor pool for refuelling before the next trip.¡±
Ah right, I knew I forgot something.
[3x Ford Ranger Pickup Truck released.]
There wasn¡¯t much to say after that; the drivers climbed in the front, everyone else clambered onto the back, and then they were off without so much as a goodbye. Emma preferred it like that though; she¡¯d never been one to go socialising, and honestly couldn¡¯t relate much to the soldiers, all of them being men more than a decade older than her.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
[Wren (Level 0) released.]
For a final bit of tidying up, Emma released her captive bird as well, watching as it flew off sky to rejoin its flock. The little wren had proven helpful, but the relative lack of stamina in the air had proved frustrating; as such, Emma was in the market for an upgrade.
[Grab a pigeon the next time you see one. They¡¯re bigger, more durable, and can double as emergency rations.]
Pigeons are edible?
[Oh yes, squab was a wartime favourite in England, back when ration cards limited the availability of more typical meats.]
You know that¡¯s not the best endorsement, right?
[Perhaps. It¡¯s actually good though; properly roasted, it''s like a healthier, gamier chicken. Give it a try sometime, you won¡¯t regret it.]
I¡¯ll think about it, Emma conceded, before feeling a slight pinch.
[-1 Anima]
The fox had finished his meal while her mind was occupied, and had reverted to prior behaviour by nibbling her hand.
¡°There¡¯s something strange about you,¡± Emma murmured, raising the fox to eye level and staring it down. ¡°I¡¯m not an expert, but I¡¯m pretty sure most animals don¡¯t bite into solid metal.¡±
The fox didn¡¯t reply, staring back placidly and showing neither fear nor any true intelligence.
¡°A very strange bonus reward, what am I supposed to do with you?¡±
[Fox (Level 0) stored.]
For the time being, Emma shoved it into Eden¡¯s Echo, not wanting to deal with any more biting. Bereft of any pressing deadlines, she opted to take a leisurely walk, keeping close to the town walls as she traced a circuit back home; all the while, one eye stayed on the road and the other on her remaining reward for reaching Level 14. Home Alone was the first option to be crossed off, as there was little point taking a defence that only worked when nobody was home; not when she had a guaranteed teleport back at the first sign of danger. Strong and Stable meanwhile had potential, but until now all of Emma¡¯s summons trended towards large and destructive; not the kind that she¡¯d be comfortable assigning as sentries.
[An Ice/Fire elemental guarding your property conjures an amusing image.]
Of the house burning down a second time, Emma snorted. I¡¯ll pass, thanks.
That really only left one option; the only one that provided a benefit extending beyond the home, and a good one as well. Increased experience gain had appeared in previous choices, but only for a small percentage. Outright doubling it was a major asset, even when it was time-limited and tied to food; it was a mechanic akin to the rested Experience feature of the MMOs she¡¯d played, and those were always extremely beneficial.
[Trait selected: Home Is Where the Hearth Is - Experience gains are doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.]
We¡¯ll need to do some testing to see exactly what qualifies as home-cooked, Emma decided as she locked in her choice. Maybe that Chef class isn¡¯t such a bad idea after all; my homunculus isn¡¯t exactly great for battle, but a crafting class could be an idea.
Her thoughts wandering, Emma retired for the day.
¡ª
Astrid landed in a heap on the ground: her eyes seeing red, her ears ringing and immense nausea welling up from within. Forcing herself to her knees, she barely managed to raise her head before emptying her stomach, keeping breakfast away from her dress.
[I may have forgotten to mention, but long-distance teleportation isn¡¯t pleasant the first time. You¡¯ll get used to it though. Oh, and welcome to England.]
Chapter 128: Thatll Do Pig, That鈥檒l Do
Chapter 128: That''ll Do Pig, That¡¯ll Do
[Well now, they¡¯ve been busy.]
Emma paused as she turned the corner; partly due to Edith¡¯s comment, but mainly because of the spectacle playing out before her in the house¡¯s back garden. Saint was hopping from one corner of the garden to another, taking great bounding leaps that made a mockery of olympic records. Noah knelt on both knees in the grass, a knife in one hand and a piglet in the other; the latter bleeding heavily from its neck down into a familiar flowerpot.
[Potted Hydra: Satiated.]
The status remained remarkably light of description, even as Emma crept closer to the pair. Saint was the first to notice; turning her head to look Emma¡¯s way before taking a leap that would lead to a certain collision. The feisty cat jumped anyway, forcing Emma to activate Ephemera and let the flying feline pass harmlessly through her. Noah took a bit longer to notice, his attention focused on wringing the last drops of blood out of the dying animal.
[Poor situational awareness. It only takes one assassin capable of bypassing a mana shield, and he¡¯s a dead man.]
Emma couldn¡¯t disagree, not when she¡¯d come within six feet of Noah undetected; admittedly, her footsteps were unusually quiet given her lack of weight, but excuses were useless when things went wrong. Some remedial training was needed, so Emma did the sensible thing and raised her hand.
[Fox (Level 0) released.]
Noah yelped, jumping to his feet as he felt a weight on his neck and teeth on his ear, dropping both knife and swine in the process. He was unharmed as far as Emma could tell; a thin, translucent blue barrier prevented the Fox from taking a chunk out of him, but that didn¡¯t make the situation comfortable in the least. Being larger and bulkier than Saint, it eventually took Noah both hands to remove the fox, pulling it free with a tight grip on its stomach. Still holding it aloft in front of him, Noah stared at it for a moment in surprise and disbelief before finally noticing Emma¡¯s presence.
¡°Was that really necessary?¡± Noah complained, bending back down to set the fox on the floor.
It bolted, making a beeline down the street in hope of escaping.
[Fox (Level 1) stored.]
All for nothing in the end, as Emma caught it with Eden¡¯s Echo before it managed more than a handful of steps; and the fox did not have the power to stretch those out as Saint did.
¡°Poor situational awareness,¡± Emma retorted, echoing Edith¡¯s words as she absently noted the level up, the first of many that set a common garden animal on a path beyond mortality. ¡°Better a fox than a paranoid old man with a rifle.¡±
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¡°Sounds like there¡¯s a story there,¡± Noah quipped, though he didn¡¯t deny the truth in her words as he put the knife and piglet back in his bag. ¡°I suppose I did get a bit too involved; I could¡¯ve let Saint handle everything, but truth be told I was too curious about this ritual to sit on the sidelines.¡±
¡°So it was a ritual, not just an overenthusiastic feeding.¡± Emma hummed, recalling a similar dance she¡¯d seen in her trials.
[A blood bag would¡¯ve been enough if it was just watering the plant. There is power in live sacrifice; more where the sacrifice consents, admittedly, but still plenty of magic even without that component.]
¡°The timing was too good to pass up, what with the shipment of sows that came in today,¡± Noah explained. ¡°Far too many animals to raise them all to adulthood, with population levels being what it is today. A lot of families will be cooking suckling pigs today, not just us.¡±
¡°First time for everything,¡± Emma laughed. ¡°Is this another dish from your foreign adventures?¡±
¡°Real popular in the American South, and also South America,¡± Noah confirmed.
¡°You¡¯d better save some for me.¡±
Emma spun around, looking for the unfamiliar female voice behind her, that definitely wasn¡¯t a distorted version of her own. She didn¡¯t see anyone though, not even a hint of another person either in their own yard or anywhere else on the same street.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Noah, meanwhile, was looking on with growing concern, his own eyes starting to roam.
¡°I demand the best cuts of meat.¡±
There it was again, still coming from everyone and nowhere to Emma¡¯s frustration.
¡°You didn¡¯t hear that voice just now?¡± She asked, receiving a shake of the head from Noah.
¡°No, just Saint meowing away, if that counts?¡±
Saint?
Emma¡¯s eyes refocused on the cat, who had seemingly tired of jumping around the garden and was presently rolling in the grass, eating some of it too judging by the tips of grass nearby. Emma continued to stare unerringly, waiting until the latter came to a halt.
¡°Yes?¡± Saint finally spoke, breaking the silence once she knew the jig was up. ¡°I was told you could understand me now?¡±
How she managed that exactly, Emma wasn¡¯t sure, since there was no sign of her mouth moving and the soft whisper came directly from behind her ears this time; Emma could only presume some form of ventriloquism ability at play.
[Babble Fish+ has encountered unknown language.
Beginning system integration.
¡
System integration complete.
Language: Smug cat added to repository.]
¡°Yes, I can understand you,¡± Emma confirmed, before grinning and turning back to Noah. ¡°False alarm Dad, I can understand Saint now thanks to a skill upgrade. She just said she doesn¡¯t want any of the pork from dinner tonight.¡±
¡°You traitor!¡± Saint hissed, her brief lethargy ending abruptly as she lunged for Emma¡¯s head, claws out.
¡ª
¡°We have a problem.¡±
Those were some of the last words Elizabeth wanted to hear, especially when they came from Paradox, Earth¡¯s resident expert of space-time disruptions.
¡°All inbound and outbound teleportation to the mainland have fallen silent again. There¡¯s no clear indication of why this is the case, after three weeks of mostly smooth operations after the network was brought back online. Precognition remains dead to me, as it has been ever since the terminus. I¡¯ll be departing tonight to investigate; keep an ear out in Oxford while I¡¯m gone.¡±
¡°Do you believe anyone here to be responsible?¡± Elizabeth frowned, trying and failing to remember anyone with that kind of ability.
¡°No, but Anathema¡¯s descendants are very good at getting into trouble. There¡¯s always a chance they stumble into the plot, knowingly or otherwise."
Chapter 129: Cat Scratch Fever
Chapter 129: Cat Scratch Fever
Emma took a split second to measure Saint¡¯s trajectory, relative to the audience. Satisfied, she reached for Ephemera, intending to go intangible again and let Saint crash into Noah behind her. Unlike before though, Saint was both ready for this, and Emma herself was standing on the lawn. Blades of grass were replaced with an angry cat as Saint swapped positions in her first outright demonstration of teleportation. Now, Emma was stepping on Saint, who turned translucent alongside her, scratching at her ankles all the while.
[-10 Anima]
¡°Damn it Saint, get off!¡± Emma swore, hopping on one leg as she attempted to dislodge the cat.
When that didn¡¯t work, she switched off her intangibility, reaching down with both hands to try and pry Saint off her leg to no avail.
¡°Never! Pay tribute to your queen!¡±
[-50 Anima]
Emma felt her ankle give, slivers of black steel shaved clean and turning to wash out red as they fell to the floor. With every swipe, Saint¡¯s claws tore progressively deeper, in what Emma belatedly realised was a stacking damage buff of some sort.
[Status condition applied: Rust.]
¡°Let go, before I bury you alive,¡± Emma warned, pressing her leg down to push Saint further into the soil.
The recalcitrant cat lit up, temporarily even more orange than usual, her command over nature bleeding into the soil and draining it of moisture: leaving a layer of brick-hard clay that refused to budge.
¡°Not until I receive my rightful bounty! I am a Druid, you have no power over the Earth, not to harm me!¡±
¡°I warned you,¡± Emma deadpanned, before turning both of them intangible for just a moment, long enough to dead drop to the floor, sinking her leg and Saint alike beneath the surface.
Truth be told, the mechanics of intangibility remained mysterious to Emma even after having access to it for months now. Whilst she¡¯d always had control over her own state, and her belongings (and also uninvited attachments) followed her own state of being, the floor tended to remain solid whilst walls she wanted to pass through did not, even if they were made of similar materials. Emma had come to realise that the determining factor was largely driven by her own intentions: she didn¡¯t sink through the floor whenever she activated Ephemera because she didn¡¯t want to. Well, now she wants to.
[-500 Anima]
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Emma rematerialised, immediately feeling the drain on her sense of self as she lost everything below her left knee, the entire limb swallowed by the ground. It was for this reason that she¡¯d never turned tangible inside a solid object before, being rightfully wary of the telefrag phenomenon, but Emma supposed there was a first time for everything.
¡°I can¡¯t believe you did that!¡±
Saint burst out of the ground, now soft as silk again; she was entirely unscathed, except for her fur, which looked a lot more brown than orange thanks to a thick coating of dirt.
¡°You were right, the Earth refuses to harm you,¡± Emma laughed, wishing she had a camera to immortalise the cat''s dour expression. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean it won¡¯t give you a dirt bath though.¡±
Saint hissed, slapping her tail against the ground in tandem with the roar of thunder.
Wait, thunder?
Emma turned skyward just in time to receive the first deluge, a localised rain cloud right above her head letting loose and drenching both of them. It continued for a good ten seconds, blessing them with water pressure that most modern showers failed miserably to emulate, before cutting off to leave them both thoroughly soaked.
¡°Really?¡± Emma couldn¡¯t help laughing at that, watching as rivulets ran down her armour. ¡°I thought cats hate water.¡±
¡°I do,¡± Saint sniffed, looking rather waterlogged as well. ¡°But if I''m going to take a bath, I won¡¯t do it alone.¡±
¡°Alright,¡± Emma conceded. ¡°Truce? We still need to prepare dinner, after all; a single piglet won¡¯t be nearly enough for a family of four.¡±
¡°Hmph, so be it. A ceasefire is in order,¡± Saint turned her nose up, looking remarkably imperious for a drowned cat, as she waddled her way towards the back door of the house.
¡°Hey, wait, not on the carpet!¡± Noah interjected, speaking up for the first time after remaining a silent observer to their brief bout.
As it turned out, the wet cat was pretty hard to grab, and Noah wasn¡¯t even a physical Class; he failed miserably at keeping Saint at bay, taking a faceful of water for his troubles even as Saint dragged a long trail of water through the living room.
Emma just laughed harder at that, waiting patiently outside for her leg to regenerate.
¡ª
Was there a reason for that? Saint grumbled, silently within her own mind just as the ancestor taught her. I was looking forward to my share of pork trotters.
[Noah won¡¯t actually withhold food from you; he hasn¡¯t got it in him. Not for a bit of water that takes only a slight emission of heat to dry out. Besides, I¡¯d say the rewards were well worth it, wouldn¡¯t you agree?
[B???????????????????e????? ???????????????n?????????????????????o??????????????????????t????????? ??????????????????a?????????????????????????f??????????????????r????????????????a???????????????????????????i????????d????????????????????????]
I don¡¯t know, maybe I could give my opinion if you taught me how to read, Saint replied irritably. The metal one understands me now, so I know you can do it.
[I could, yes, but that wouldn¡¯t be to your benefit. The rules that govern the System are ironclad, even as its creator, there are limits to how much I can work around them. Enlightened animals are generally considered subordinates, beholden to a human master, rather than true Users. Because of this, the System allows me to offer a significantly higher degree of guidance to you. If I started to teach you the tongue of Man, it might prompt a reclassification, and then all the secrets I¡¯ve been feeding you fall by the wayside, because a System User is expected to make his own way in the world.]
Never mind then. Which box should I take, and what¡¯s for dinner?
Chapter 130: The Social Network
Chapter 130: The Social Network
Ten long minutes later, Emma¡¯s got back on her feet; both of them, now that her leg was done regrowing. Noah hadn¡¯t been idle in that time either, and even from the back garden she could hear the hum of fans and the crackling of fat as the oven did its work. The air, too, was pungent with the sharp scent of raw onions, enough to dissuade Emma from swapping back to her homunculus just yet.
[Weave connection established.
You have 3 new messages!]
Instead of heading straight for the kitchen, Emma decided to deal with the mail first of all. Three messages in a day wasn¡¯t much by email standards, but she¡¯d already realised the magical community was a very small part of wider society before the apocalypse, something reflected in the online space too.
¡°Of course, even with only three messages, one of them is still spam,¡± Emma huffed, deleting the first message almost immediately after opening it. ¡°Please tell me it doesn''t work like that.¡±
[Basilisk secretions have some limited use in ritual magic, mostly for traditional, druidic traditions. Admittedly, its use has mostly fallen out of fashion, both due to the decline of druidism since the rise of the Roman Republic, and the discovery of other substances that serve the same purpose but are much less dangerous to harvest. That said, it most certainly cannot double the size of someone''s snake, but that doesn¡¯t stop men from trying year on year, driven by rumours they should know better than to trust.]
¡°And here I thought snake oil salesmen were just a metaphor,¡± Emma shook her head, darkly amused. ¡°At least the other two messages have titles that might be real.¡±
The first was a fairly standard invitation to the Summer Solstice, addressed to Emma herself. Included were directions to the main event, a map of nearby amenities, and a room number. There was even an FAQ section with some commonly asked questions, one of which caught Emma¡¯s eye.
[That¡¯s a new addition, published only three days ago.]
¡°Demons really are appearing everywhere,¡± Emma murmured, scrolling down the list of commonly identified demonic forms, each with a short summary of their appearance, known abilities and overall threat level. ¡°I mean, I knew that already, intellectually, but it¡¯s another matter to see them all laid out in black and white.¡±
[Thankfully, most of the Empire¡¯s strongholds were outside the big towns and cities, so they remained largely intact. With the entire network dedicated to draining and dispersing ambient mana, it will take a long time before the demons that spawn start growing in level. Long enough for capable humans to get a head start in protecting their interests.]
¡°It won¡¯t last forever though,¡± Emma noted. ¡°Sooner or later, every settlement is going to have to be able to deal with big demons, and guns alone aren¡¯t good enough.¡±
[That¡¯s just how it is. There¡¯s a limit to how hard we can bottle up the mana. It¡¯s a matter of pressure; squeeze too hard, and it all ends with a bang.]
Resisting the urge to make a dirty joke, Emma sent a quick reply confirming receipt of the invitation along with her attendance, before scrolling down to the final message.
¡°New legislative session, request for proposals?¡± Emma blinked. ¡°Um, does the Weave still think I¡¯m you? Because I know nothing about the law, magical or otherwise.¡±
[Then you¡¯ll fit right in.]
¡°I love democracy,¡± Emma rasped, doing her best Palpatine impression.
[Jokes aside, the Empire is not an autocracy; there is no single person with absolute power. Major decisions that impact the Empire as a whole are decided between Overmind and myself. Once we reach consensus, our decision is binding. If we cannot reach consensus, Paradox holds a casting vote, and can choose to support either one of us, allowing our view to prevail, or she may abstain, in which case nothing happens and the status quo is maintained. Besides acting as tiebreaker in such instances, Paradox does not participate in the governance of the Empire, preferring to focus her attention on maintaining the timeline.]
¡°Huh, that¡¯s pretty convoluted; I honestly thought Paradox was at the top of it all. The System calls her the Queen of Hours, and she has the biggest throne of the three of you.¡±
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[Paradox is the strongest of us, but not so powerful that Overmind and I working together would not prevail. She¡¯s also the least bothered in the day-to-day realities of ruling; it turns out that when your power stretches across space and time, to everything that once existed and might one day come into being, there¡¯s more interesting things to look at than trade quotas and marriage contracts.]
¡°I can believe that,¡± Emma grimaced. ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered the question though.¡±
[Hmm? Oh, the request for proposals. Whilst Empire-wide matters are decided at the top, affairs local to a single nation are subject to a degree of self-governance, in the preferred tradition of the land.
In England, that means all resident citizens of the Empire, the six thousand or so recognised as Practitioner or higher, are entitled to voice their opinions and suggestions on the state of the land. The thousand or so who bear the title of Magus can turn these ideas into actionable laws, and propose them to council. The council consists of any Masters who show up for the sitting, twice a year; they choose which proposals to hear, assign them to committees to iron out, before bringing the ones with widespread support to a final vote of the entire council.
It¡¯s not far off how any parliamentary system works, except that the discussions are held in private; there are no observers or television broadcasts here.]
¡°That sounds mind numbingly boring.¡±
[They are, and the worst part comes afterwards, when the council sends the most argumentative Masters to bring the proposals that passed to us founders. It was worth dying, just to get out of those meetings and make Overmind take the brunt of them.]
Emma considered that for a long moment, then deleted the message.
[50 EXP gained for an act of wisdom.]
¡ª
Status update
Practitioner Emma Knight - Level 14 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 5000
-
EXP: 7410/8000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph} (Cost: 20% current Anima)
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows made of anima. The more anima invested, the more powerful the shot; the arrows can also apply the effects of other Weapon Enhancements.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 1 hour cooldown when simulacrum is defeated. Captured:
-
The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode
-
Weeping Scar: Wounds inflict periodic poison damage until they are healed.
-
We¡¯re All Mad Here: The first Wound dealt to an enemy inflicts 1 of 3 Status Conditions (User¡¯s choice).
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 days): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, inflicting Instant Death to anyone who saw it.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living, lower-level target within the user''s line of sight. No component of this ability will activate unless the target can be possessed.
-
Ephemera (Cost: 1% base Anima /second): Become intangible while active.
-
Null and Void (Cost: 5% base Anima): Disrupt a spell before casting completes.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Arcanivore: Enemies restore Anima when wounded or slain.
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (TOGGLE: ON): When active, attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 1 hour): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
It''s About Time: Immune to Time Magic (ineffective against casters 30+ Levels higher).
-
Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language known by the System, with newly encountered languages added retroactively.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce inaccurate, nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent towards you. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - Experience gains are doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
-
Divine Conduit (Anathema): ?
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings stored are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
Black Candle: When lit, consumes all nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Half-Demon Homunculus (Level 1): A body in Emma''s original image. Now with extra damnation.
-
Saddlebag
-
5050 Thrones
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
-
Fox (Level 1)
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms.
-
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood.
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Reward: A powerful ally from the Age of Myth, Saint¡¯s Divine Item
-
Bonus Reward: ??
Chapter 131: Jobbing
Chapter 131: Jobbing
Having decided she wanted no part in the workings of government, Emma dismissed the messaging interface and headed to her bedroom. With the door closed and locked behind her, the overpowering smell of onions faded somewhat, enough for her to be comfortable making the switch to her homunculus. Looking at herself in the mirror, Emma couldn¡¯t see any overt difference from how she was before; she remained a red haired, green eyed, ordinary human girl with a fair complexion and a light dusting of freckles.
At a push, Emma thought the body was a little stronger, a little faster; going from average fifteen year old girl to maybe the strength of an adult man. Her eyes were a bit brighter too, going from a dull green to something that could reasonably be described as ¡®emerald¡¯ without being over the top. Far more important than those small gains and cosmetic changes, however, were the pop ups that followed.
[Half-Demon Homunculus has reached Level 1
System integration complete.
Generating individual status sheet.
Practitioner Emma Knight - Level 1 Half-Demon Homunculus
Appearance:
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Class: Indeterminate
Starter Class selection unlocked.]
¡°I don¡¯t remember seeing this before,¡± Emma remarked. ¡°Not in either instance, in fact.¡±
[You were dead the first time around, so the System acted unilaterally to fix that. The second time, you were alive but in enough distress to be deemed mentally incapable of making sound decisions, so once again, you were given the most suitable class for your circumstances. All told, this is the first time you¡¯ve had the luxury of choice.]
A large degree of choice, as it turned out; a seemingly endless table for Emma to scroll through, some with names that were mainstays in tabletop RPGs the world over, whilst others were entirely unfamiliar to her.
¡°Filter out the combat classes, I¡¯ve got one already, and there aren¡¯t enough hours in the day to multi-class.¡±
That cut the choices on display down by half; the scroll bar lengthening from a tiny line to a respectable square an entire half a centimetre tall.
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¡°Still far too much,¡± Emma shook her head. ¡°Exclude any class requiring resources that aren¡¯t readily available in England.¡±
That removed a large number of classes from contention, leaving a little over a hundred remaining.
¡°Finally, narrow the selection down to the classes best suited to me, considering all factors using the System¡¯s best judgement.¡±
Emma was fairly confident this was the right card to play; the System had done well for her before in harrowing circumstances, so why not place her trust in it again? With that final order, the field narrowed down to half a dozen classes, each of them involving crafting in one way or another. Having cut as far as she could in the preliminary, Emma finally settled down for a deep-dive of the remaining options, helpfully arranged in alphabetical order for ease of reading.
[Select one Class from the following:
Chandler: May your fortunes wax and wane.
Chef: Hello, delicious friends.
Farmer: Good, honest work.
Glassblower: For those prone to self-reflection.
Medic: A finger on the pulse of life and death.
Runesmith: Your hammer, upon the anvil of creation.]
¡°None of the confusingly named classes were right for me then.¡±
[Oh I don¡¯t know, Kemetic Harbinger would be pretty funny, if you managed to obtain the right ritual tools outside of Egypt. They¡¯re some of the best necromancers in the world, and can do some incredible things with mummies.]
¡°That¡¯s a big if,¡± Emma laughed at the idea. ¡°No, I think I¡¯ll stick to something a bit more familiar.¡±
Her options were indeed familiar, out of the six, Runesmith being the only Class that wasn¡¯t in common use in mundane society, even in the modern day. Unfortunately though, the fact that all six choices were well-suited for her, meant that her final decision was unlikely to be quick. Shaking her head, Emma decided to go for a second opinion; Noah was the one running Oxford, so he¡¯d have a better understanding of the wider situation, and what jobs were most in demand.
Heading back downstairs, Emma was pleased to find the air clear of onions, a feat almost certainly powered by magic given how little time had passed. Her stomach protested vigorously, reminding her that it had been many hours since she last ate, and spurring her to move just a bit quicker towards the kitchen. That ended up being a mistake, as the kitchen door opened right in Emma¡¯s face with a loud crack.
[-25 HP
Status Condition applied: Broken Nose]
She managed to stay upright, only stumbling back a few steps before steadying herself.
¡°Emma?¡± Noah blinks, staring blankly at her through the doorway, a tray heaped full of potato salad and coleslaw in his hands. ¡°Your nose is bleeding.¡±
For a moment, Emma was very tempted to return the favour and give him a matching nose; she had a theory on how mana shields worked that had yet to be tested, after all. In the end, Emma didn¡¯t swing that punch; partly because she hadn¡¯t tested how much damage her new body could do, but more so to avoid wasting food that would surely spill in that scenario.
¡°I can tell,¡± Emma grunted, disregarding all common medical advice and grabbing her nose, finding it twisted almost forty five degrees.
With a sickening crunch, she twisted the appendage roughly back into place, though the positioning still wasn¡¯t quite right. Noah grimaced, though he didn¡¯t quite go green; he¡¯d seen worse after all, in recent days if nothing else.
[-10 HP
Status Condition updated: Mangled Nose
Homunculus (Level 1) stored.]
¡°Couldn¡¯t let it heal wrong,¡± Emma explained, shoving the body back into Eden¡¯s Echo for a bit of regeneration. ¡°It might take longer to heal like this, but at least it won¡¯t come out crooked.¡±
¡°Sorry about that,¡± Noah winced, finally connecting the dots as to what happened. ¡°The doors in the old house opened inwards, so I didn¡¯t even think about it.¡±
Chapter 132: Peace in Our Time
Chapter 132: Peace in Our Time
After an awkward apology, Noah had retreated back into the kitchen, needing no help with cooking as usual. Now stuck in her armoured form with nothing to fight, Emma ended up lounging on the sofa with nothing to do, wishing that the apocalypse hadn¡¯t taken the internet down. Sure, the Weave existed, but as far as Emma could see it was used strictly for magical business, with nothing in the way of entertainment on offer.
[There was never a point investing in it, not when mortals were producing more content than even the most dedicated Magus can consume in a lifetime. It¡¯s not the same across the globe, but in the Empire at least, everyone is sufficiently integrated into modern life, enough so that entertainment as a distinct cultural centre died hundreds of years ago. This was a great boon, because it meant practitioners knew how to behave in public; such that entire months could pass without the kinds of incidents commonplace elsewhere. You know, the ones leading to mass hysteria and casualties, witch hunts, and the inevitable memory or timeline alterations that followed. ]
¡°Thanks for the reminder,¡± Emma grumbled, still rather annoyed whenever she thought back to the Candy Man incident.
[That one was bad, admittedly, but such things happen. What¡¯s important is that in aggregate, there were only three instances requiring timeline manipulation that year; just three, in an Empire of over a hundred thousand magic users of varying skill, age and temperament. That¡¯s remarkably low by any standard; why, imagine only having three car accidents a year in England, before the Terminus. Utterly unbelievable.]
Emma wasn¡¯t sure that was the best comparison, necessarily, but she didn¡¯t know enough on the subject to argue it either. More than anything else, she was curious what Felix was up to: something in entertainment, apparently. That painted a strange picture, when put together with his tendency to spy on people from afar, to put it mildly. Shaking her head, Emma¡¯s thoughts turned away from her absentee brother, eventually drifting to something that only the truly bored would willingly undertake: tidying her inventory.
[Saddlebag withdrawn.]
¡°Mom conjured this, didn¡¯t she?¡± Emma mused, staring at the oversized saddlebag created for the use of Sir Bearington. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look particularly magical.¡±
When neither her staring nor the System provided any answers, Emma concluded that it wasn¡¯t worth keeping; not when Eden¡¯s Echo was more than sufficient for her needs. Thus decided, Emma tossed it lazily towards the magical bin purchased at great expense from Crystal¡¯s Emporium. It certainly looked bizarre, the entire saddlebag compacting before falling into a bin half its size, and that was that.
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[Victorian Gown (3-piece) withdrawn.]
The next item on the docket was Emma¡¯s fancy new clothes, which she¡¯d not yet examined in depth since picking them up at the Sherwood Gallery. She¡¯d stored them without the packaging, so there was nothing for the bin this time; just a moment¡¯s thought to drop them on the coffee table, revealed at long last.
¡°This can¡¯t be a coincidence,¡± Emma frowned, staring at the blinding pink layers with some consternation.
It wasn¡¯t as if Emma hated the colour pink, but when paired with the leotard her homunculus came with, it was cause for suspicion. Still, that was only a minor issue by Emma¡¯s reckoning; far more problematic was the fact that she had no idea how to put such a garment on; there were far too many buckles, clips and belts than she knew what to do with. Emma¡¯s hand was halfway to a non-existent pocket by the time she realised; so used to having easy access to YouTube tutorials for any subject of fancy.
[There¡¯s downsides to formal clothing such as this. The bindings are only meant to be fastened once put on; and they¡¯re all conveniently on the back in hard to reach spaces. Typically, a manservant or maid is required to make the process seamless if magic isn¡¯t an option.]
¡°I could store the pieces again, and release them directly on top of the homunculus. That still doesn¡¯t solve actually tightening the damn thing.¡±
[This is why I preferred a nightgown.
Victorian Gown (3-piece) stored.]
Her efforts stymied, Emma was prepared to move onto a second round with the Fox she¡¯d been gifted, when the front door opened, diverting her thoughts.
¡°Welcome home!¡± Noah shouted from the dining room. ¡°Just in time, too, dinner¡¯s ready!¡±
Emma switched back to her Homunculus at that, relieved to find her nose back to normal. She beat Elizabeth to the dining room; but not Saint, who had already claimed a corner for herself, staring intently at the trio of suckling pigs that formed the centrepiece of the table. Bowls filled with potato salad, coleslaw and boiled vegetables completed the meal, along with water and red wine for all. Four seats were set out in total, one for each member of the family; but since Saint had opted to stay on the table, that left one spot empty.
[Fox (Level 1) withdrawn.]
¡°Behave, alright?¡± Emma warned the latest addition to the room. ¡°You can eat with us, as long as you don¡¯t make a mess.¡±
In a sign of the improved intelligence a level granted, the Fox curled up in its chair, waiting patiently rather than jumping the table or bolting for the distance. Truly, Noah¡¯s ear was a worthwhile sacrifice.
¡°Another one?¡± Elizabeth muttered, staring at the Fox with a gimlet eye.
She didn¡¯t say anything further however, her empty stomach calling the shots, having her refocus as everyone reached for the food and dug in.
Mom seems annoyed, Emma noted. Not at Mr Fox so much as the world in general. A long day at work, probably.
Even so, that didn¡¯t detract from the simple pleasure of having a peaceful meal with the whole family (minus one). A welcome return to normality over the past few days, and the first true hint of stability in Emma¡¯s life since the apocalypse started.
I could get used to this, Emma admitted to herself, between bites.
[Irregular System broadcast incoming, by order of Overmind.]
Chapter 133: Call Me, Beep Me
Chapter 133: Call Me, Beep Me
[Irregular System broadcast incoming, by order of Overmind.
Please stand by.]
Emma stiffened as the announcement came through; just two lines for the time being, but these, unlike most notifications, refused to be dismissed. Noah, likewise, had stopped eating, his fork clattering to the floor in a moment of inattention.
[The Empire is under threat by enemies most foul!
Saboteurs have struck, damaging critical infrastructure for long distance transit.
All practitioners are called to play their part in the defence of the realm.
Mandatory Quest issued.
Vae Victis (Fails unless completed by the Summer Solstice)
Objective: Reclaim control of Blenheim Palace for the Empire.
Objective: Assess the condition of the teleportation gateway in the catacombs beneath the Palace.
Bonus Objective: Find and capture the saboteur.
Bonus Objective: Restore the connection to the mainland.
Rewards: 5000 Thrones, 500 EXP
Bonus Rewards: Commendation (Order of the Empire, Third Class), 1x Ticket to Ride (The Ghost Train)
Penalties for Failure: 1000 Thrones, Named and shamed for incompetence by imperial newsletters.]
Blenheim Palace? The name stood out for Emma, being both a familiar landmark and not very far at all.
[Coincidentally, a convoy is already preparing to head to Woodstock. How fortunate.]
Because you asked them to change their route, Emma retorted, not believing it a coincidence in the slightest.
¡°You got a mission too?¡± Noah asked, returning Emma¡¯s attention to the table, his face a shade paler than before.
¡°There¡¯s trouble over at Woodstock that I need to deal with,¡± Emma confirmed. ¡°Did you get something different?¡±
¡°You could say that,¡± Noah replied, forcing a strained laugh that sounded more like a wheeze. ¡°Apparently, some folks aren¡¯t happy about the big tower next door. My quest is to have the town survive until the Solstice.¡±
¡°Same deadline then,¡± Emma murmured, her thoughts already on the calendar. ¡°When will the supply run to Woodstock be ready? I can hitch a ride again, and provide some extra protection to them on the road there. A win-win, really.¡±
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¡°Three days from now. We could push for earlier, but you¡¯d be going with a lighter convoy in that case. We don¡¯t have enough guards to spare extra bodies if you leave during their days off.¡±
¡°Better to wait then,¡± Emma was quick to decide. ¡°More firepower can never be a bad thing, after how my last patrol went.¡±
¡°Right, right.¡±
Noah resumed eating, shaking off his momentary jitters to refill his place. Emma followed suit, seeing as there was nothing truly urgent on her side, and Elizabeth¡ Elizabeth had Mr. Fox in a headlock, stopping him from diving headfirst into the coleslaw.
[Mr. Fox - Level 2 Thief]
Guffawing, Emma attempted to return him to Eden¡¯s Echo, only for nothing to happen. A second and third attempt had the same result, the only difference being Mr. Fox, who stuck his tongue out at her.
[He¡¯s accumulated enough magic to resist being absorbed involuntarily, but not yet enough to talk coherently. Unfortunate.]
¡°Experience from what?¡±
[Stealing from people¡¯s plates, mostly.]
Emma looked down and found her potatoes missing, whilst boiled carrots vanished one at a time to parts unknown. Looking back at Mr. Fox, it wasn¡¯t apparent where any of the contraband was going; since he wasn¡¯t chewing, nor was he within reach of the goods.
¡°Stop that, or I¡¯ll have Sir Bearington sit on you.¡±
He stopped.
¡ª
Dinner ended on a peaceful note, with most of everything finished off, except some leftover vegetables that Dad went to put in the fridge. Elizabeth headed straight for bed, while Mr. Fox ran off the moment she loosened her hold on him. Emma had just finished clearing the table, and was trying to get Saint out from under it, when another notification popped up, this time bringing good news for a change.
[For eating a home-cooked meal, you receive 100% increased EXP for 1 hour.]
¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d show up,¡± Emma grinned, waving Noah down as he headed to the living room. ¡°Quick question Dad, which of these Classes does the town need most? I¡¯ve got options for body number two.¡±
[Select one Class from the following:
Chandler: May your fortunes wax and wane.
Chef: Hello, delicious friends.
Farmer: Good, honest work.
Glassblower: For those prone to self-reflection.
Medic: A finger on the pulse of life and death.
Runesmith: Your hammer, upon the anvil of creation.]
¡°How much medical knowledge do you have?¡± He asked, after a moment studying the list Emma showed him.
¡°One year of first aid with the scouts. It was never a priority, levelling up, because I have built-in regeneration.¡±
¡°Medic is a bad idea then,¡± Noah advised seriously. ¡°We could use more healers, but that takes a long time to learn, and going in half-baked will do more harm than good. We¡¯ve got plenty of Farmers and Chefs as well, and they¡¯re relatively easy to find more of, so no need to double up on those. Of the remaining three choices: candles and glassware are both in demand, now that electricity and Amazon are a thing of the past. The former are consumables so need to be replenished periodically, the latter are fragile and often replaced. Runesmithing, admittedly, I don¡¯t know enough about to make a judgement either way.¡±
[It¡¯s a discipline adjacent to blacksmithing. You need a forge, but instead of making the product, you¡¯re adding magical properties to complete items: weapons, armour, or trinkets once you¡¯ve progressed some. The smaller the item, the harder it is to work, generally speaking.]
¡°Ah. Probably not the best choice then,¡± Noah demurred. ¡°We only have a pair of anvils, and they¡¯re both needed full-time to maintain the tools we have. Getting time on one of them, or making accommodations for a third both have difficulties.¡±
¡°Chandler or Glassblower then,¡± Emma confirmed, initially unsure what to pick until she took a look at her inventory.
The Black Candle sat there; still mostly whole, but Noah was right when he said candles were ultimately consumable. It would burn out eventually; so why not learn how to make more?
[Class selected!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 1 Chandler]
Chapter 134: I鈥檓 a Candle
Chapter 134: I¡¯m a Candle
[Class selected!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 1 Chandler
Note: You have selected a non-combat class!
Your durability will not improve with level ups.
Proceed? Y/N]
Emma powered on through without a worry; she already had a combat form after all, and was eager to gain as much as she could from her hour of doubled EXP.
[Class confirmed.
Gained Trait - I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
Black Candle consumed; you now know how to make Black Candles.
Select one out of three starting candles:
1) Destined: Points towards its maker, always.
2) Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
3) Sanguine: Causes those nearby to bleed.]
Emma gave the selection a quick glance before dismissing it; she had more to worry about right now, namely the fact that the chain of notifications had stopped.
I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t go for the more complicated Classes; as I feared, the chosen Class doesn¡¯t come with any starting resources. Luckily, candles don¡¯t take much to make.
¡°Dad, where¡¯s the candle wax stored?¡±
¡°We ran out at home, but there should be plenty at the main storehouse, near the motor pool.¡±
Emma had already shed her homunculus by the time Noah finished his sentence. She didn¡¯t bother using the door, instead opting to sprint straight through the fireplace whilst intangible, thus taking as direct a route as possible to the storehouse. A pair of guards stood outside the entrance, rifles in hand, which helped Emma find the right building in record time. To their credit, they were both awake and alert despite the late hour, honing in on her location before she made it within ten feet of them. Thankfully, neither of them seemed inclined to challenge Emma, instead stepping aside with respectful nods. Whether that was because of Noah¡¯s authority or her own deeds, Emma didn¡¯t know; either way, she wasn¡¯t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
But whilst entry had been smooth, it only took a few steps inside the warehouse for Emma to realise her luck had run out. Because whilst there was still a measure of light beneath the evening sky, the inside of the building was pitch black, and she had no candles on hand; an irony that wasn¡¯t lost to the aspiring chandler. Emma did her best to press on, which sadly didn¡¯t amount to much; whilst sight could adapt to low-light conditions, a total absence of light was another matter entirely. After her third time tripping over a crate left in the open as she moved between pallets by touch, Emma was about ready to do the walk of shame back home, before she stepped on something altogether softer, prompting a startled bark, and then she could see.
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[Mr. Fox - Level 3 Thief]
Not the room; no, that was still completely dark to her, but a very familiar and welcome name tag given the circumstances.
¡°How¡¯d you beat me here?¡± Emma asked, before shaking her head. ¡°No, that¡¯s not important. Can you find something for me?¡±
¡°Sure, just don¡¯t tell anyone I was here. And get off my tail!¡±
Mentally noting that Mr. Fox had enough awareness now to speak, and thus be understood by Babble Fish, Emma lifted her foot, letting her fellow intruder remove his bushy tail from her immediate area.
¡°I¡¯m looking for wax: petrochemical, beeswax, or plant-based, I don¡¯t care, I just need some wax.¡±
¡°Is that all? Easy peasy, I can smell that junk from here.¡±
Mr. Fox headed off on his errand, leaving Emma standing in place, listening to the soft steps and rustling fabric marking his passage. His movement was mostly silent, barring one occasion where a faint thump was followed by a high-pitched whine, making Emma think that Mr. Fox wasn¡¯t entirely as confident as he¡¯d pretended. Nonetheless, he did return less than five minutes later, tossing a heavy bag at Emma¡¯s feet.
[Paraffin Wax (1 KG) stored.]
Grabbing it with Eden¡¯s Echo rather than fumble in the dark, Emma quickly retraced her steps, waving the guards goodbye before sprinting back towards her house. All in all, she made it back having burned only ten minutes, which was still longer than she¡¯d have liked. Her first stop upon arrival was to head for the kitchen; only to find that Noah had already laid out a dozen glass containers of various sizes on the counter.
¡°Thanks Dad!¡±
With containers already sorted, Emma changed course, heading instead to the dining room in order to secure the final piece of the puzzle and enable her to make a functional candle wick.
[Toothpicks stored.
Toothpicks withdrawn.
Paraffin Wax (1KG) withdrawn.]
Returning to the kitchen, Emma laid out all the pieces needed. A quick dip into the bag of wax, courtesy of Eden¡¯s Echo, ensured an even coating on the toothpicks, allowing a controlled rate of burn when used as wicks. Dropping wax-coated toothpicks onto the counter for later, Emma wasted no time filling a pot with water, placing it on the stove to boil. Whilst that was underway, she filled a second, smaller stainless steel vessel with half the bag of wax, kneading it throughout to get a smooth consistency. There was no thermometer available, so Emma simply stuck her armoured hand into the boiling pot to go by feeling.
[Your father can conjure precise, temperature controlled magical flames.]
¡°...Perhaps, but this is my first time making candles, so I¡¯d rather do it the traditional way.¡±
Emma fooled nobody with that answer, but Edith didn¡¯t press her on it, instead falling silent once more. Bereft of conversation, Emma¡¯s attention turned wholly to her hand, which was gradually getting warmer.
[-1 Anima]
She took her hand out of the pot after the first point of damage, deeming it warm enough - she didn¡¯t need it at boiling point, not for paraffin. Turning the heat down to a medium, Emma placed the smaller container prepared beforehand into the hot water, then placed both hands in to knead the wax.
[You prepared wax for the first time. 20 (40) EXP gained!]
Chapter 135: Wax and Wane
Chapter 135: Wax and Wane
[You prepared wax for the first time. 20 (40) EXP gained!]
Emma paused at that, slightly surprised. She was still in her true form, after all, taking advantage of its increased durability to work directly in the nearly boiling water. That excitement was somewhat dampened when she brought up her status page, looking to find that the 40 EXP gained had gone to her main Class rather than Chandler.
[Anyone can prepare materials in advance; that kind of menial labour isn¡¯t specific to a crafting class, so it all falls under general experience gain. You won¡¯t be able to infuse your candles with magical properties unless you¡¯re in the correct body, on the other hand.]
¡°Right, that makes sense.¡±
Satisfied that the wax was sufficiently runny, Emma pulled the small pan out of the water, bringing it over to the glass cups that would serve as moulds. She almost started pouring, before freezing as a sudden premonition brought her to a halt.
¡°I need to choose which properties to add before finalising the candle,¡± Emma realised, bringing up the options for perusal.
[Select one out of three starting candles:
1) Destined: Points towards its maker, always.
2) Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
3) Sanguine: Causes those nearby to bleed.]
She¡¯d already decide to replace the Black candle, having enough experience by now to appreciate being able to turn off the lights on demand. As for the remaining three choices, Destined was quickly taken out of the running. Emma had no reason to give anyone the ability to find her at all times; not without restrictions or an off-switch, at the very least, in case they were stolen by the unscrupulous.
That left the choice between Hallowed and Sanguine, with Emma bouncing back and forth several times before landing on the former. Whilst the latter was the only property capable of causing direct damage, the negatives were too much to justify. The bleed condition wouldn¡¯t affect her true form, but any allies nearby would be fair game, limiting its use to solo engagements. In those engagements, Emma would also have to waste a hand holding the candle, preventing her from deploying her bow, or be reduced to throwing it at the enemy as a poor man¡¯s grenade.
¡°The uses are all too situational,¡± Emma shook her head. ¡°At least Hallowed can be used for security, without needing constant vigilance by everyone nearby.¡±
[Hallowed attribute selected. You may now make Hallowed Candles.]
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The moment Emma locked in her choice, she felt a rush of knowledge, instructions for a ritual that filled gaps in her mind she hadn¡¯t even known were there. It was more intense than receiving abilities for her Damned Apostle class; most of those were simple in application, and not nearly so information dense.
¡°I probably shouldn¡¯t do that in combat,¡± Emma groaned, feeling the beginnings of a headache as she rubbed her temple.
[If you¡¯re in combat as a Chandler, something¡¯s already terribly wrong.]
Emma didn¡¯t reply, on account of having gone cross-eyed as the information dump finished, revealing one particular detail that was incredibly unwelcome given she was on the clock.
¡°Where am I going to find a priest at this time of night?¡±
Because yes, there were conditions to fulfil in order to make each candle magical, some harder than others. The Black Candle was relatively simple, only needing to be finalised in the dark. The Hallowed Candle, on the other hand? It needed a genuine, bona fide blessing from a man of faith. The faith itself wasn¡¯t specified, but Emma had the strong feeling that anything short of genuine belief would fail to meet the condition.
¡°Hallowed Candles will have to wait then,¡± Emma concluded reluctantly, before turning to the Fire Slime sleeping in the hearth one room over.
[Fire Slime stored.]
Shoving it into Eden¡¯s Echo plunged the floor into darkness, allowing Emma to get to work.
First of all, she switched over to her homunculus, being mindful of how experience would be assigned. After that, it was hardly rocket science; all she had to do was pour the wax into one mould at a time. For half of the lot, Emma followed up with a whispered invocation to the sunless sea, whilst she didn¡¯t bother with the remaining half. Once that was done, it was just a matter of placing the toothpicks at the top to serve as a wick, and the job was done.
[6x Candles created.
6x Black Candles created.
For creating your first batch of candles, 50 (100 EXP gained!)
Level up!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 2 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 100/200]
¡°So fast,¡± Emma laughed, letting the Fire Slime back out so she could more easily read her updated status sheet.
Sure enough, her HP and MP remained unchanged, which explained why there was a warning when trying to choose a crafting class.
[That warning was added within the first decade of the System coming online. A man decided to become a Miner, and immediately went outside to fight monsters with a pickaxe. Poor Steve, may he rest in peace.]
¡°Not a great first class then,¡± Emma winced. ¡°Actually, is multiclassing possible? With a single body, I mean.¡±
[Yes, but that functionality isn¡¯t unlocked until a higher level, and in most cases, a user is still restricted to either combat, or crafting. There are metaphysical difficulties with granting a single body both the essence of creation and destruction. It¡¯s not impossible, but squaring that circle is difficult enough to earn a Mastery.]
¡°Something for later then,¡± Emma agreed, filing that away.
There were more immediate gains to look at, such as her shiny new level up.
[Select one of three choices.
1) Trait - Noncombustible: Gain high resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
2) Ability - Tunnel Vision (Cost: 100% MP): When activated, gain immense clarity for one minute, allowing for perfect execution of crafting steps. Whilst active, situational awareness dwindles to almost nothing.
3) Candle Attribute - Foul: Emits an indescribable stench that fills the air.]
Chapter 136: We Didn鈥檛 Start the Fire
Chapter 136: We Didn¡¯t Start the Fire
[Select one of three choices.
1) Trait - Noncombustible: Gain high resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
2) Ability - Tunnel Vision (Cost: 100% MP): When activated, gain immense clarity for one minute, allowing for perfect execution of crafting steps. Whilst active, situational awareness dwindles to almost nothing.
3) Candle Attribute - Foul: Emits an indescribable stench that fills the air.]
Emma wasted no time locking in Noncombustible as her second Chandler trait. The resistances provided would always be useful when her principal tools were heat and wax, and could even be helpful in the face of unexpected danger. Tunnel Vision on the other hand didn¡¯t provide anything that proper preparation would not, whilst carrying a potentially lethal drawback if caught unawares while it was active. The third choice was barely worth considering, compared to the former. With her decision made, Emma turned her attention to the cleanup.
[6x Black Candle stored.
6x Candle stored.]
The candles all went into Eden¡¯s Echo, ensuring she had both cover and light on demand, to avoid a repeat of the warehouse. Now properly equipped, Emma would never be more than a lighter away from a variety of effects, the versatility of which would only grow alongside her levels. Of course, that errant thought itself raised another question.
¡°Where¡¯s my lighter?¡±
Racking her brain, Emma wasn¡¯t able to find a clear point where she¡¯d lost it. She definitely had it when facing the demons on patrol, using it to light her single Black Candle at the time, before storing it again to clear her hands. Between then and now, it had somehow vanished, never to be seen again.
¡°That narrows it down to a few suspects,¡± Emma muttered, though she didn¡¯t intend to spend much time investigating.
There wasn¡¯t much point, when thirty seconds of rummaging through the kitchen drawers gave her another one.
[Lighter (Full) stored.]
Lighters were common even before candles came back into fashion, thanks to the ten to fifteen percent of the population that smoked. Every corner store and supermarket stocked loads of them, so existing stocks were more than plentiful given the post-apocalypse numbers. It would be a long time before more would need to be made.
Pushing thoughts of long-term logistics aside, Emma returned to the remaining half a bag of wax. Once she had all the supplies, the actual process had been simple; a glance at her buffs showed there were still twenty minutes of doubled EXP left. The candle¡¯s she¡¯d already made would still need to cool and set; Emma planned to take them out of Eden¡¯s Echo later to see if that happened while stored. Thankfully, that part wasn¡¯t a prerequisite to receiving experience, and she got it as soon as her part in the production finished. That meant she could squeeze in a second batch before her EXP bonus expired in twenty minutes, something she planned to take full advantage of before turning in for the night. Reaching for the pot still sitting on the stovetop, Emma began the process anew.
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¡ª
[You can go now, nobody will return here until the morning.]
Despite the reassurance, Mr. Fox spent another ten minutes hiding beneath a mostly empty crate of apples. He¡¯d eaten the rest over the course of the day, along with three other crates of cherries, plums and pears, consuming several times his own body weight in fruit to fuel his rise from household pest to true sentience. There was nothing special about the product itself, the important part was none of it belonged to him. Every class had different criteria for levelling; a Thief, naturally, did so via theft and other associated acts of skullduggery.
[Good, now select the third choice, the one at the bottom. This will allow you to change the colour of your fur, an active camouflage that draws inspiration from chameleon skin.]
Doing so, Mr. Fox chirped in surprise as his fur turned midnight black, now nigh-impossible to see in the lightless warehouse.
[You still have your loot from before, yes? Take it out]
Mr. Fox grinned, producing the lighter he¡¯d stolen from the walking suit of armour; a fitting punishment for daring to step on his tail. Holding it carefully between his teeth, having already been warned not to press the button at the top, Mr. Fox dispensed with his cover at last, sitting up straight and awaiting further orders.
[Now, take that, and head out along the back entrance. The one you unlocked with your first skill to get inside. Head north-west until you find a small house, the one with the hideous violet roof.]
Mr. Fox nodded once, before setting off on a loping run. Only a bare handful of humans were around by now, and none showed any signs of spotting him en route to the target.
[Confirm the target, what can you see through the window?]
Scampering up the solitary birch tree in the back garden, Mr. Fox stared blankly at thick blackout curtains inside the window.
[Your second active skill will help here. Not Steal, the other one.]
Mr. Fox grinned and blinked twice, as his vision dimmed in monochrome. The loss of fidelity was noticeable alongside a total lack of colour, a more than equal trade for being able to see through walls. Ignoring the household furniture, Mr. Fox focused on the two humans, both kneeling before an idol of raw meat and charred bone.
[An idol of Entropy. This is the house. You know what to do.]
Mr. Fox dropped off the tree without a single wasted movement, landing silently on his feet by the grace of his lineage. Shifting his jaw, he knelt close to the ground against the grass, placed one incisor on the lighter¡¯s trigger, and pushed. Then, he made some distance and did it again, and again, and again.
¡ª
[For creating 12x Candles, gain 25 (50) EXP.]
Emma looked at her second batch in satisfaction. She¡¯d opted for regular candles this time around, as they were for the household, who would rather have light than darkness. There had been no EXP for preparing wax this time, only the making of the candles, but that was still enough to get halfway to Level 3 in a single hour. It wouldn¡¯t last for long, but Emma was determined to enjoy the fast, early levels as they came. As she dumped the remaining water into the sink, starting to clean up, a siren split the air.
¡°An attack?¡± Emma wondered, though her minimap revealed no targets.
[No, that¡¯s the fire siren. Someone is having a very bad night right now.]
¡°Sucks to be them,¡± Emma shook her head, turning back to her cleaning.
It was none of her business, after all.
Chapter 137: Foul Legacy
Chapter 137: Foul Legacy
Noah was not a man accustomed to rising early anymore. Back in the Army, five o¡¯clock starts were the norm, but he¡¯d taken full advantage of his transition to a desk job by finding a home close to his office. Having a short, half hour commute meant he could enjoy a leisurely lie-in until 7AM even on weekdays, only rising when it was time to prepare the kids for another day at school, drive them to their destination, and still make it to work by nine.
His day had only drifted later after the apocalypse hit; one of the few benefits being the abrupt end to middle managers who enjoyed scheduling meetings bright and early. Demons didn¡¯t spawn after sunrise, and appeared most often between sunset and the witching hour. As the man ultimately in charge of the town¡¯s safety, Noah¡¯s schedule had adapted; he rarely rose before noon and went to bed well after midnight. All of this is to say that when the emergency shortwave radio jolted Noah at half past five to a chorus of screams, he was not a happy man.
¡°I¡¯m coming, hold on,¡± he yawned, half-awake and fumbling for his clothes, almost tripping over an empty water bottle in the process.
¡°I should¡¯ve sprung for a fancy storage ring like Emma,¡± Noah lamented as he stepped out into the cold morning air nearly five minutes later.
He¡¯d not bothered bringing the radio with him; there wasn¡¯t much point, when not a single intelligible word had been heard the whole time, just a cacophony of people yelling at each other: the latter, he¡¯d had more than enough of for a lifetime. It wasn¡¯t hard to figure out what was going on anyway, even bereft of specific directions; the plume of smoke rising into the air, paired with the intermittent wailing of the fire alarm told him plenty.
¡°I swear to god, if someone stubbed a cigarette in the grass again¡¡±
Muttering under his breath, Noah double timed it towards the flames. As he approached, he let out a sigh of relief: the fire brigade were already there, having cordoned off the house, and were busy at work. The town¡¯s single fire engine hit the main blaze with everything it had, while burly volunteers maintained the perimeter with fire extinguishers, hand pumps and buckets of water, keeping it from spreading further. It was all going according to protocol, so well that Noah wasn¡¯t sure why he¡¯d been roused. Ducking under the plastic tape cutting off bystanders, he made his way to the nearest fireman, opening his mouth to ask a few questions.
[Everyone else is wearing a mask for a reason.]
That was a mistake.
Immediately coughing and sputtering from inhaling something unfortunate, Noah quickly pulled a vial from his bag and removed the stopper. His convulsions ceased as smoke was pulled from his lungs and surroundings, creating a small bubble of clean air around his person. Waving off the mask hurriedly offered by a fireman, he turned and waved an arm at the burning house.
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¡°I¡¯m here now, though I¡¯m not entirely sure why you called me over. You look to have the fire contained; the house might be done for, but the street is safe.¡±
¡°Called?¡± The fireman¡¯s face showed naked confusion, making Noah¡¯s stomach drop. ¡°We''ve been fighting the fire for hours now; its taking a lot longer than expected, but nothing out of the ordinary beyond that. We didn¡¯t call for anyone, except a few extra hands to keep the neighbours away from the scene, for their own safety.¡±
¡°If you weren''t the ones to call,¡± Noah repeated, already dreading the answer. ¡°Then who was screaming at me over the radio?¡±
¡ª
Emma woke up to someone trying to kill her. That wasn¡¯t too uncommon, in recent times, but it was the first time someone had tried in her sleep. Immediately storing her homunculus away to recover from a knife in the throat, a single punch sent her assailant flying into the door.
[Imp slain.
10 EXP gained.]
¡°Really?¡± Emma blinked, seeing the lowest amount of EXP awarded for a kill, signifying an opponent far weaker than her. ¡°Now that¡¯s just insulting.¡±
Climbing off the bed, it didn¡¯t take long to find her attacker; an emaciated-looking gremlin with tiny wings, and a brand new hole torn through the chest courtesy of Emma¡¯s fist.
¡°Can those wings even carry your weight? No, never mind that, how did you find me in the first place, or get into the house?¡±
The dead imp didn¡¯t reply, obviously, as it was already starting to fade from sight in the manner common to demon corpses. Shaking her head, Emma took another look around the room, half-expecting a stronger enemy hidden in reserve, only to find a different surprise. A letter, left on her bedside table beneath a bottle of wine, one very familiar to Emma, on account of having drank several glasses not long ago. A wine several centuries out of production, and stocked in a castle long lost to memory. Picking up the letter without further hesitation, Emma¡¯s suspicion was soon confirmed.
¡®Dear Emma,
Congratulations on passing your trial! Yours was amongst the first names circulated on the Empire Gazette, one of the first practitioners to be born in a new era of abundance.
It took some time for the news to reach my homeland, and will certainly take even more for this letter to reach you in turn, but I do hope to have it in your hands before Spring passes.
To that end, I¡¯ve entrusted it with a servant of mine, alongside instructions to slit the recipient¡¯s throat in their sleep. A minor precaution to weed out impostors, I¡¯m sure you understand. Such a wound means little to you compared to most humans.
I will be making my way to England in the coming days, and look forward to seeing you at Stonehenge, where we might greet the Sun together.
Until then,
Princess Astaroth¡¯
¡°Really?¡± Emma¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°Couldn¡¯t she just send a message through the Weave?¡±
[That wouldn¡¯t be considered proper, for a formal invitation like this. Not nearly enough melodrama for the tastes of the court.]
¡°I¡¯m stabbing her back when I see her,¡± Emma grunted, crumpling the letter in her fist.
Her sleep rudely interrupted, Emma was in a foul mood as she headed downstairs. This did not improve upon seeing the massive Fire Elemental through the window, towering over the town.
[Blackflame Elemental - Level 20]
Chapter 138: Too Soon
Chapter 138: Too Soon
[Blackflame Elemental - Level 20]
It was a towering being, of dark orange flames mixed with molten rock, held together by magic and an outer layer of black obsidian that writhed and warped, stretching nonsensically before snapping back into place moments later.
¡°That¡¯s not real, is it?¡± Emma wondered, after seeing the same phenomenon repeat three times in a minute. ¡°A mirage, maybe? Dad used to talk about them, how illusions in the deserts led unwary travellers to their doom, dead from dehydration.¡±
[It¡¯s the same effect, more or less. Intense heat refracts light in funny ways.]
Emma continued to stare, and the more she looked, the more oddities she found. Even putting aside the illusions, there were parts of the elemental that didn¡¯t make much sense. Its limbs were remarkably thin, looking like twigs about to snap, and a massive contrast to its bulky torso. More than that, it was barely moving, its lower body still stuck inside the burning remnants of a house, merely turning its head to and fro as a high pressure fire hose pumped a constant stream of water into its face. A few anaemic fireballs shot from its arms every thirty seconds or so, each quickly swallowed up by runic circles suspended in the air, vanishing into swirls of nothingness.
[Noah Knight - Level 17 Invoker (Forbidden Arts)]
¡°Dad¡¯s suppressing the flames,¡± Emma realised, seeing his name pop up whenever she examined one of the runes. ¡°Is he somehow weakening the elemental as well? Because it''s barely putting up a fight; nothing like the bosses I¡¯ve fought so far.¡±
[Suppression? Invokers light fires, he shouldn''t have anything to suppress them with.]
Curiosity prompted Emma to slip through the kitchen wall, heading in the direction of the battle. In the few minutes it took to get close, the elemental was missing several pieces of its torso; none of it caused by incoming water either, as chunks of obsidian fell from its torso at random. Noah was also adding damage between defensive casts; every time he pointed towards the elemental, a fist-sized chunk of its body cooled, burning no longer.
¡°Something¡¯s definitely wrong here,¡± Emma concluded, calling Epitaph in bow form and adding her own arrows to the fray, aiming at the holes already present in its torso. ¡°A Level 20 encounter shouldn¡¯t be as easy as shooting fish in a barrel.¡±
There was no reprisal for Emma¡¯s actions, even as her shots tore deep gouges along the elemental¡¯s molten body; its head didn¡¯t even turn Emma¡¯s way the entire time. The one thing going for it was sheer durability; even with Emma draining four fifths of her anima with every arrow shot, she managed only to inflict slow, incremental damage over time. Every little helped though, and ammunition wasn¡¯t an issue here, so Emma was happy to keep chipping away, knowing that it would fall sooner or later.
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Sooner or later turned out to be twenty shots later, as Emma¡¯s aim improved with every arrow. Five consistent hits to the head proved decisive, as the elemental gave a rumbling growl, sinking to its knees and swelling up like a balloon.
[Ah, that makes more sense. Noah wasn''t stopping the flames, he was delaying them for later!]
Then, because nobody could have nice things in the apocalypse, it exploded.
[100 EXP gained (50% split).]
Emma saw Noah teleport away in a flash of light, half a second before the shockwave knocked her flat on her back.
[-100 Anima]
An unpleasant surprise, but barely damaging for her; between Emma¡¯s distance from the epicentre and her own durability, she was back on her feet in moments. But not everyone was nearly so lucky. Nothing remained of the burning house except a crater, while the fire truck lay a crumpled wreck on its side. Of the firemen who¡¯d stood to man the perimeter, not even ash remained.
¡°What the hell?¡± Emma stared at the wreckage, trying to understand what just happened. ¡°None of this makes any sense. Why deploy such a big elemental and have it barely do anything? Why send it to certain death in a frontal attack, when it could have done far more damage just rolling around and setting things on fire?¡±
[Agreed, this summoning doesn¡¯t feel like a coordinated attack. If anything, it reminds me of the accidents I saw, back when I taught at the magical academies. The kinds caused by dozens of students with powerful magic, little common sense and the risk assessment skills of a teenager, all crammed together in the same wooden building.]
Emma stared at the damage for a while longer, but when neither her eyes nor the System offered any answers, even she had to call it quits eventually and head back home.
¡ª
[Another ten miles to go, then you can rest until nightfall.]
Mr. Fox huffed, but continued to run, ignoring the aching in his limbs that even his newly strengthened body could not ignore. He¡¯d been running for hours by now, as far away from Oxford as he could manage. He wasn¡¯t sure exactly what would happen if pursuers caught up, but he doubted they¡¯d be very happy with him. Setting a house on fire tended to leave a bad first impression.
[This is necessary; there¡¯s only so much room for animal companions in a single household, and Saint doesn¡¯t like to share. No, you¡¯ll be far better placed in the wilds, where property rights aren¡¯t as a big a deal.]
Don¡¯t get me wrong, I like stealing, Mr. Fox protested. But I like food even more.
[Oh, don¡¯t worry about that. Your new Master will give you all that you can eat and more. She¡¯s gotten very good at hunting since awakening her heritage, and has combat power to spare. What she needs now is a scout and infiltrator, so you¡¯ll fit right in.]
If you say so. You¡¯ll still be around, giving me hints?
[Of course. So long as you live, I will be here.]
That was good enough for Mr. Fox, so on he ran, through empty streets, over a river and under countless trees. Until at last, he caught a scent both familiar and different to Emma, and heard a growl in the air. Looking around, Mr. Fox couldn¡¯t see where it had come from, but one again, the System provided for him.
[Anna Culling - Level 8 Tamer]
Chapter 139: No Smoke Without Fire
Chapter 139: No Smoke Without Fire
Emma couldn¡¯t be certain Noah had returned home, but she considered it the most likely destination. Teleportation magic was rare, she knew by now, both from her own limited access to the craft and her experience with the magical community. After all, if crossing vast distances were simple, inventions such as the Weave would have been unnecessary, nor would the simple delivery of a letter from Princess Astaroth require a summoned creature and weeks of travel time. More likely than not, such abilities were heavily restricted in what they could do. Emma herself opted to walk home, seeing no need to waste her own Return to save a few minutes of time.
Slipping back into her homunculus as she entered through the front door for once, Emma¡¯s guess was proven correct as she arrived just in time to see Noah descend the staircase. His hair was still wet, and he wore only a bathrobe and fluffy slippers, making it abundantly clear where he¡¯d just been. For good reason too, as even with the muted, simulated sense of her armoured form, Emma could still smell the faint waft of smoke on him.
¡°Quite a way to wake up, don¡¯t you agree?¡±
The attempt at levity would have been more convincing if Noah didn¡¯t immediately follow it with a massive yawn, showing his body¡¯s opinion on an early morning and hours spent at ground zero.
¡°Go back to bed,¡± Emma replied flatly. ¡°The fire is gone, and the cleanup can wait a few more hours.¡±
¡°Not yet,¡± Noah shook his head, stumbling more than walking towards the kitchen. ¡°Need to write letters of condolence, the firefighters were good people, just doing their jobs.¡±
But they aren¡¯t family, Emma thought to herself.
She didn¡¯t say that though; because while she didn¡¯t know any of the fallen, having been in Scholomance throughout most of the town¡¯s founding, Noah did, and he¡¯d always been the responsible sort where his employees were concerned. Noah still seemed functional despite his fatigue, slowly making himself a cup of coffee to wake up properly, so Emma let him be, heading back upstairs for a few more hours of rest herself.
[Lighter (Full) withdrawn.
Black Candle withdrawn.]
This time around, she even lit a black candle at her bedside table, going to sleep with her entire room shrouded in a bubble of darkness. She didn¡¯t think another assassin would show up for her neck, not so soon anyway, but she was understandably feeling a bit paranoid just then.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
¡ª
Emma awoke a few hours later, rather refreshed and thankfully without any more wounds. Feeling for the heat the Black Candle emitted, she snuffed it out between thumb and forefinger, uncaring of the brief jolt of pain as her fingers made contact with hot wax. Light returned to the room, enough to see that it was daytime once more.
[Lighter (Full) stored.
Black Candle (5/6) stored.]
Heading out into the corridor, Emma could hear the faint sound of snoring coming from Noah¡¯s bedroom; evidently, he¡¯d decided to turn after all, once his urgent duties as mayor were concluded. Not fully, there would almost certainly be a funeral later on, but all that could be done on short notice. Heading downstairs, Emma idly wondered just how her new body worked, as a number of things didn¡¯t make sense. For one, she¡¯d been wearing her pink leotard for days now, and it was still in pristine condition.
[All of Crystal¡¯s storage items come with built-in cleaning functionality, Eden¡¯s Echo is no exception. You¡¯ve been storing the homunculus often enough to prevent the messy reality of life from having any impact. Spend a full day or two outside, and that will change.]
¡°Speaking of Eden¡¯s Echo, how does it transfer between bodies? It¡¯s always on the same finger, whichever form I happen to be in at the time.¡±
[To answer that question, how much do you know about quantum field theory?]
¡°I don¡¯t,¡± Emma deadpanned. ¡°I¡¯m fifteen, not a university student with a background in maths.¡±
[Never mind then.]
Shaking her head, Emma decided that now was as good a time as any to go looking for a priest. The Hallowed Candles had jumped several tiers higher on her priority list after the fraught events of the day thus far. Then her stomach growled, doing a good Saint impression.
After breakfast, Emma amended, heading for the kitchen.
There, she was rather disappointed with her milk and cereal; not due to the taste or anything like that, but the fact that it wasn¡¯t sufficient to trigger her doubled EXP buff. Clearly, a higher standard was applied to qualify as a homemade meal; it didn¡¯t apply for ready made food that just happened to be consumed at home.
[Instant noodles and snack bars don¡¯t count either. Don¡¯t be lazy.]
I¡¯m a chandler, not a chef, Emma retorted, tossing her spoon and bowl into the sink on the way out. Though maybe I really should hunt down a chef to store in Epitaph. It was just an idle fancy before, but if it can guarantee a permanent buff? It might be worth the trouble.
[So your first thought is to kill and enslave a sentient being with the skill you want, rather than spend a few hours meal prepping for the week? You really are just like me as a child, I¡¯m so proud of you!
100 EXP gained for pleasing your ancestor.]
Emma opened her mouth to give a less than flattering reply, then she saw the EXP gain, and changed her mind.
¡ª
Why am I watering the garden? This is supposed to be for Emma¡¯s quest, not mine.
[She¡¯s a bit occupied at the moment; also, the eventual mythical item is for you, so a division of labour is fair.]
Saint still wasn¡¯t entirely happy, but she didn¡¯t pursue the matter further. It barely took a few minutes for her to conjure the miniature rain-cloud, and ensure the potted Hydra got a good allotment of water; the rest of the lawn too, while she was at it. There were plenty of rats too, where blood was required. Even so, Saint resolved to talk to Emma about division of labour, one of these days.
Chapter 140: Like a Prayer
Chapter 140: Like a Prayer
Slipping back outside, Emma found herself wandering slowly through town. Her main objective - reclaiming Blenheim Palace - was currently on halt, awaiting the assembling of a convoy due in two days. Even after the apocalypse put an end to rigid daily calendars, people still clung to old habits, including an aversion to work on the weekend.
That suited Emma though, because there were certain things she could only do on a Sunday; like wandering between buildings in search of organised worship, assuming it existed in town. That was far from a guarantee; from what she¡¯d seen so far, Emma estimated the town population to be in the low triple digits, certainly no more than five hundred at most. Even accounting for a steady trickle of arrivals from the ruins of surrounding settlements, there was a reasonable chance that a member of the clergy or a lay preacher had been found by now, but still far from certain.
No quest had appeared either to guide her path; which Emma saw as a sign that the System didn¡¯t consider the matter important enough, whatever the eventual outcome may be.
[Because it¡¯s not. You have other candles you can make to advance the class; now, if Hallowed Candles were your only option to level up, it would be a different story.]
The town was small, so Emma co-opted the methodology of the security patrol she¡¯d accompanied; starting with a circle around her home and immediate neighbours, and slowly expanding outward with every circuit she walked, all the while keeping listening for signs of prayer. She continued, even as her path left the residential area well behind and took her to the areas reserved for work. Only when she found herself back at the motor pool did Emma finally give up; religion, it seemed, was not on the cards in New Oxford.
[The population skews young after the apocalypse as well. Not great if you¡¯re looking for faith, from a demographic perspective.]
Deeming the excursion a lost cause, Emma pivoted, beginning to ponder the practicality of stopping to loot a church on the way to Blenheim. That plan had its own drawbacks: would a church stock holy water as a matter of course, when it was typically only used at baptism? Even if the answer was yes, would the vials come with an expiry date attached, and still be ¡®good¡¯ as an ingredient? Her mind occupied with such questions and her feet moving on autopilot, Emma didn¡¯t even realise she had company until a hand clamped down on her shoulder and the barrel of a gun was shoved in her face.
[Conspiracy Theorist - Level 0]
¡°Can I help you?¡± Emma deadpanned, not at all impressed by the balding, pudgy face and manic eyes staring intently at her.
¡°You can start by explaining why you set the Jones household on fire!¡± The man demanded, pressing the gun to Emma¡¯s cheek. ¡°Houses don¡¯t just burn by themselves, so I knew something foul was afoot, and wouldn¡¯t you just know it? The same day it all goes up in the flames, an unknown, red haired girl starts wandering around, when all the righteous are busy mourning. Red¡¯s a dangerous colour, you know? Red like the pyre.¡±
¡°You have no idea who I am, do you?¡± Emma realised, thinking back to the few instances she¡¯d gone out since acquiring the homunculus; even then, most of the time she¡¯d been in armour.
¡°A devil, sent from below to torment us at the end times!¡±
That was about as much as Emma was willing to listen to, lest the conversation devolve to matters of fluoride and gay amphibians.
[Browning Hi-Power (13/13) stored.]
The gun vanished into Eden¡¯s Echo, startling her assailant and buying Emma just enough time to draw back her arm. Strictly speaking, her homunculus had no combat abilities, but it was still modelled after a human body, and stronger than the average fifteen year old thanks to an infusion of demonic blood. When Emma¡¯s punch connected a moment later, it wasn¡¯t quite enough to knock the man out instantly, but more than enough to paint his face red from a broken nose. His head snapped back, pupils dilating as they focused on nothing; somehow remaining on his feet despite staggering back. That was fine for Emma though, as it left him easy pickings for a second punch, and a third, which finally knocked him flat on his back.
[Well that was pathetic. I¡¯ll let you have it though, just this once.
50 EXP gained for killing a man with a non-combat class.]
¡°He¡¯s dead?¡± Emma blinked, staring down at the prone mane. ¡°I didn¡¯t hit him that hard.¡±
[Getting in a fight is like flying a plane; it doesn¡¯t matter what happens while you¡¯re up, a bad landing will still kill you in the end.]
That got Emma to kneel, grabbing the man and rolling him over. Sure enough, the back of his skull was cracked wide open, staining the pavement bright red. All the while, the notifications continued.
[Level up!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 3 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 200/350
For levelling up with an act of violence, modifiers have been applied to skill selection.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Choose one of the following three:
-
Trait - Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles.
-
Candle Attribute - Screaming: Wails unceasingly, inflicting Horror upon all who hear it.
-
Candle Attribute - Vital: Connected to a living donor, once lit, this candle burns so long as the donor lives.]
¡°Well that¡¯s convenient,¡± Emma remarked, scanning the options and making her decision immediately. ¡°Guess we won¡¯t need a priest after all.¡±
[Trait - Blood of the Enemy selected.
Sacrificial Human Blood (1 Gallon) stored.]
Emma made sure to store all the blood spilled, both to remove the evidence as well as ensure a healthy stockpile for her crafting. As for the exsanguinated corpse, she had no need for it, so decided to use a trick she¡¯d learned while playing with Saint. Slipping into her armour, she grabbed the body and activated Ephemera, shoving the now intangible corpse beneath the ground before ending her ability.
[-500 Anima.]
Sure, it cost her an arm, but it would regenerate, and unlike Saint, the body wasn¡¯t going to climb back up. Satisfied with the results of her random encounter, Emma decided to call it a day and go home to consolidate her gains.
[Return activated.]
¡ª
Status update
Practitioner Emma Knight
True Form: Level 14 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 5000
-
EXP: 7660/8000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph} (Cost: 20% current Anima)
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows made of anima. The more anima invested, the more powerful the shot; the arrows can also apply the effects of other Weapon Enhancements.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 1 hour cooldown when simulacrum is defeated. Captured:
-
The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode
-
Weeping Scar: Wounds inflict periodic poison damage until they are healed.
-
We¡¯re All Mad Here: The first Wound dealt to an enemy inflicts 1 of 3 Status Conditions (User¡¯s choice).
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 days): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, inflicting Instant Death to anyone who saw it.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living, lower-level target within the user''s line of sight. No component of this ability will activate unless the target can be possessed.
-
Ephemera (Cost: 1% base Anima /second): Become intangible while active.
-
Null and Void (Cost: 5% base Anima): Disrupt a spell before casting completes.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Arcanivore: Enemies restore Anima when wounded or slain.
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (TOGGLE: ON): When active, attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 1 hour): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
It''s About Time: Immune to Time Magic (ineffective against casters 30+ Levels higher).
-
Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language known by the System, with newly encountered languages added retroactively.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce inaccurate, nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent towards you. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - Experience gains are doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
-
Divine Conduit (Anathema): ?
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings stored are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
5050 Thrones
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
-
Lighter (Full)
-
5x Black Candle
-
Black Candle (5/6)
-
6x Candle
-
Browning Hi-Power (13/13)
-
Sacrificial Human Blood (1 Gallon)
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms.
-
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood.
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Reward: A powerful ally from the Age of Myth, Saint¡¯s Divine Item
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Vae Victis (Fails unless completed by the Summer Solstice)
-
Objective: Reclaim control of Blenheim Palace for the Empire.
-
Objective: Assess the condition of the teleportation gateway in the catacombs beneath the Palace.
-
Bonus Objective: Find and capture the saboteur.
-
Bonus Objective: Restore the connection to the mainland.
-
Rewards: 5000 Thrones, 500 EXP
-
Bonus Rewards: Commendation (Order of the Empire, Third Class), 1x Ticket to Ride (The Ghost Train)
-
Penalties for Failure: 1000 Thrones, Named and shamed for incompetence by imperial newsletters.
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 3 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 200/350
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Clothing
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
Chapter 141: Jailhouse Rock
Chapter 141: Jailhouse Rock
There were certain buildings that were practically required for any self-settlement that grew to a certain size. Storehouses for food and other provisions, kept safe from the elements, thieves and vermin. An administrative building, to gather the movers and shakers of local society in one place, for the dreadfully dull business of running a town. A guardhouse, to regulate arrivals and departures and keep track of just who was around. And most recently of all, a jail; to hold those who demonstrated a continued danger to society but for whom execution wasn¡¯t suitable, for any number of reasons.
The jail was mostly empty as Elizabeth entered; half a dozen cells all empty save for one, and only a single guard on site, serving double duty at the receptionist¡¯s desk.
¡°People have been pretty well behaved, generally speaking,¡± the guard explained. ¡° The workload doesn¡¯t leave much time for crime. A bit of petty theft, and a scuffle or two between men deep in their cups, all sorted with fines and a night in the drunk tank. Matthew, on the other hand, well, you best see for yourself.¡±
The guard stood, grabbing a battered old shotgun that Elizabeth knew better than to underestimate, before leading the way to the cell in the corner. There inside, the building¡¯s sole inmate knelt in silent contemplation, wrapped in chains from head to toe as he stared blankly at the wall.
¡°He¡¯s been like that since he first woke up in the cell,¡± the guard muttered. ¡°Doesn¡¯t do anything unless spoken to, doesn¡¯t move except when we feed him, and never needs the bathroom either. God forbid you go inside though, he¡¯ll turn and try to rip you apart at the drop of a hat.¡±
¡°Not altogether uncommon, for a demonic infiltrator. Whilst they can take on a human appearance, the imitation is only skin deep; ultimately, they are creatures born of blood, hate and magic, barely compliant with biology as you know it.¡±
¡°So you said when we first locked him up,¡± the guard agreed. ¡°But here¡¯s what I don¡¯t get. If this thing¡¯s meant to be an infiltrator, then why¡¯d it try to tear people¡¯s heads off back at the hospital? Nobody suspected anything amiss until it went batshit insane at the first opportunity.¡±
¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m here to find out,¡± Elizabeth reassured him. ¡°Orders from the top, they don¡¯t want any loose ends running around on the home front, not while we¡¯re already being attacked from outside. One way or the other, I¡¯ll take the prisoner off your hands today, before I go south.¡±
¡°Much appreciated,¡± the guard offered her the key to the cell, which was quickly rebuffed by a shake of the head.
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Shrugging, he pocketed the key again and returned to the front desk, more than happy to hand the situation off to a specialist. Elizabeth didn¡¯t bother with the door, though she could have easily forced her way in; the magic she was planning to use didn¡¯t require touch, or even eye contact, just proximity and focus. It wasn¡¯t powerful in the showy manner that many practitioners adored; when cast correctly, it left little to no trace of its passing, and for this reason was a prized legacy of the Empire¡¯s intelligence wing.
¡°Now, let¡¯s see just what you¡¯re hiding.¡± The Empire¡¯s resident specialist on mind magic whispered, as she slipped into her prisoner¡¯s thoughts, digging through his memories in search of orders.
¡ª
¡°Ugh, my head,¡± Marius Kimaris groaned pitifully as he returned to the waking world.
The events of the previous night were very much a blur; blending together into a mass of food, drink and drugs, so many drugs. Quite frankly, only his demonic constitution kept him alive; his consumption would have put even the worst human addict in an early grave. As it was, Marius had a pounding headache, a persistent desire to vomit, aches and pains all over his body, and he really needed the toilet.
¡°I¡¯d rather be dead,¡± Marius swallowed hard, trying to keep his nausea at bay. ¡°Gods, why¡¯d I listen to Aster? Have a stag night, he said. Just a few drinks, he said. Never again.¡±
Pulling himself up by the edge of his hard mattress, Marius staggered to his feet and shambled towards the bathroom; doing over a long and painful minute what he could usually manage in seconds. Thankfully, the door was already open, sparing him the indignity of finding the handle by feel; even opening his eyes was out of the question, as the mere attempt left him seeing stars and only worsened his migraine. Eventually, he managed to find himself before a familiar porcelain throne, undoing his dressing gown and pulling the lid up.
¡°Slow and steady,¡± Marius murmured, adjusting his equipment; the last thing he needed was to paint the walls.
Sure, his servants were loyal and probably wouldn¡¯t gossip, but his parents would definitely find out, to say nothing of his sister¡¯s reaction. Annoyingly, the moment he was ready to let loose, the desire to urinate vanished. Marius gritted his teeth, waiting for the familiar biological reaction to pass, but nothing happened. After an indeterminate (and far too long) period of time, he bit the bullet, opening his eyes despite the pain to check on his little problem, and in that moment, Marius finally learned the meaning of the idiom, ¡®hard as a rock¡¯.
Thus began the biggest manhunt in magical England, a ripples of which would eventually impact a full third of the Empire¡¯s population, leading to the unravelling of a dozen conspiracies and the passing of three acts of legislation, all of this off the back of a single, agonised scream.
¡°MY PENIS!¡±
¡ª
Elizabeth jumped as the memory abruptly ended, the sheer emotions within breaking her concentration and sending her back to the real world. Her target was no less affected; having jumped to his feet and rushed the bars of the cell. A futile effort, for although he was stronger than a man, he wasn¡¯t quite at the point of bending steel, but he persisted nonetheless.
¡°Impressive,¡± Elizabeth acknowledged. ¡°Yet insufficient. If a light touch won¡¯t do, then I¡¯ll just have to be a bit more invasive; my apologies, for this is going to hurt a lot.¡±
Chapter 142: Be Prepared
Chapter 142: Be Prepared
Emma returned home to find herself the sole occupant of the house. Noah¡¯s coat and shoes were missing, making it clear he¡¯d headed out again; either to arrange for a funeral or in the course of his ordinary duties. It was only the early afternoon, so Emma took it in stride; Noah had worked long hours well before the apocalypse hit, making his absence hardly out of the ordinary. What was unusual were the crates taking up space around the living room, claiming most of the space that wasn¡¯t already taken up by furniture.
It took Emma a bit of careful manoeuvring to reach her usual seat, where a small note could be found in her Dad¡¯s immaculate handwriting.
¡®Elizabeth has been called away to join ongoing Empire patrols at the Strait of Dover. Precognitives have detected abnormal levels of mana across the English Channel, prompting fears of a military build-up. A show of force has been ordered on our side, to deter invasion in the lead-up to the Summer Solstice. Elizabeth is not expected back in Oxford before then.
In better news, the supply convoy headed to Woodstock will be departing tomorrow at Noon. A spot has been reserved for you on the outbound voyage, getting you close to Blenheim Palace. We don¡¯t have anyone else who can keep up with you, so once the convoy drops you off, the rest will be up to you. Take the crates; I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll need it all, but it''s better to have and not need it than the other way round.
I¡¯ll be out inspecting walls for the next few days; part of a second line of fortification being built, so I won¡¯t be around to see you off.
Best of luck out there,
Noah¡¯
¡°It¡¯s probably for the best that I travel alone,¡± Emma concluded, after reading the note a few times over, checking for hidden surprises. ¡°Having support isn¡¯t necessarily a bad thing, but humans are just so fragile, and I won¡¯t always be around to keep them alive.¡±
[Magical talent will blossom eventually, given time and a stable population. But the less a person had to start with, the longer the process will take; those who awakened in the first days or weeks were already just a small nudge away. Most will take months, if not years, and some will never manage it at all.]
¡°Skill issue,¡± Emma scoffed, never one to overly care about the plight of strangers.
Instead, her attention turned towards something more productive; namely clearing the living room of all that was now hers.
[Stored:
30x Meals, Ready to Eat
10x Bottled Mineral Water (2L)
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3x Leftovers (Home Made)
5x Bag of Candle Wax (2kg)
50x Glass Jars
2x Stainless Steel Pot
Shovel
British Army Knife
Matchbox]
All told, it was an eclectic mix of provisions and equipment, all of which wouldn¡¯t be out of place at a campsite, with the exception of the candle wax. Emma could see a use for everything, though she was most excited about the leftovers from dinner, as they were a guaranteed trigger for double EXP on demand. In an ideal world, she¡¯d have liked a few more of them, along with perhaps some ammunition for her new gun, but given how busy everyone was, she was more than satisfied with what she got.
Deciding to use her last day at home productively, Emma headed into the kitchen, intent on making enough Hallowed Candles for herself and the house. Taking care to step over Saint and the dead rabbit she was skinning, Emma pulled out a pot and started filling it with water. Once it was filled most of the way, she set it onto the stove at a low simmer. Emma was tempted to have some leftovers before proceeding any further, but decided not to in the end; there was a chance of failure in the process, which would make for a terrible waste.
Next, six glass jars came out, placed in a loose circle on the kitchen table. This was where the recipe for Hallowed Candles deviated from what Emma had made before; her previous creations had followed mostly mundane instructions, barring the removal of light and a short incantation for the Black Candles, and the wax was otherwise ordinary. For the Hallowed Candles however, all of that went away, and the end result was more ritual than science.
Pulling out a bag of wax, she cut a thin slit through the corner and poured the wax straight into the jars, smoothing out the top of each with an open palm. Then, she grabbed a fruit bowl, and filled it to the brim with the blood of the conspiracy theorist she¡¯d killed. Dipping a finger into the bowl, Emma grabbed the first jar and began to paint.
[Normally, this is where you use holy water, and invoke rites of protection, sanctity and purity. But since you¡¯re using the blood arts, the invocation must be inverted. Ask for the heads of your foes, the fear in their hearts and the tears of their children, and all shall be well.]
¡°This is a lot harder than it looks,¡± Emma muttered, moving with exaggerated slowness to avoid smudging her writing.
She got better as she went, but it still took a good few minutes to write her desires sevenfold around the glass. By then, the water was beginning to boil, so she hastily switched off the heat to low, leaving the pot to simmer.
[The same again, on the other five jars.]
Each attempt was just a bit faster than the last, culminating in the sixth and final jar being painted twenty minutes after Emma first began. Taking the pot of water, Emma raised it to her lips and drank, forcing herself to keep drinking as she felt the not-quite-boiling water burn on the way down. She drank until the halfway point, whereupon she finally lowered the pot again, before adding the same amount she¡¯d just taken in sacrificial blood, staining the water a pale red.
[A Hallowed Candle normally gives; safety and peace and bliss. Your variant, instead, is designed to take; first from yourself, and thereafter from your foes, to take everything they value and more.]
This mixture, Emma poured into the first jar filled with wax, up to the brim. Nothing happened, so she went to the next, and the next, and the next, until all six jars were filled to the brim. The final moment of completion was just that in the end, a single moment, too quick for Emma for the naked eye; in one instant, there were jars filled with hard wax and frothy red water, and then there were candles. Blood red, with wicks dark as the abyss, and a sinister smiling face carved into their sides by invisible blades.
[6x Hallowed Candle (Demonic) created!
50 EXP gained.]
Chapter 143: Burn the Candle at Both Ends
Chapter 143: Burn the Candle at Both Ends
¡°So the difference is just thematic?¡± Emma asked, staring at the sinister looking candles she¡¯d made. ¡°They¡¯ll still do the job, right?¡±
[The outcomes should be the same; in that evil intent and alignment are dissuaded from approaching. It might take a different route to get there, however.]
¡°Right, I¡¯m leaving a warning for Dad,¡± Emma concluded.
Because she was raised in modern times, Emma preferred to do this via electronic means; the Weave was convenient for things like that. A short message that yes, those were Hallowed Candles despite looking like something out of a horror film, and lighting them would help the town¡¯s defences was quickly dictated, left in the Weave to await Noah¡¯s return home.
[6x Hallowed Candle (Demonic) stored.
1x Leftovers (Home Made) withdrawn.]
Given that she was unlikely to be able to have the chance for a sit- down meal, or to make candles in peace once she reached Blenheim, Emma decided to get as much done as she could for her Chandler class in the time left before departure. She¡¯d been hesitant the first time around, but now, having proven the modified candle making process to be effective, she no longer hesitated to eat. The leftovers were nothing fancy, just some of the excess mashed potatoes and coleslaw in a plastic container. But it was still warm, thanks to Eden¡¯s Echo, and still a good and filling meal.
[EXP gain doubled for 1 hour.]
Tossing the plastic container in the bin, Emma cleared the table, before pulling out more wax and glass jars, to start making the next batch. It was easier this time, and faster, as her familiarity with the process grew. The limiting factor was still the writing needed for each jar; finger painting was a lot harder than it looked, at least if she wanted the end product to be legible.
[6x Hallowed Candle (Demonic) created.
50 (100) EXP gained
Level up!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 4 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 350/550
Select one of three options below:
-
Candle Attribute - Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
-
Candle Attribute - Spooky: Induces fear, paranoia and hallucinations.
The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
-
Candle Attribute - Chaos: A random effect, generated the first time the candle is lit.]
¡°What¡¯s with me and Chaos?¡± Emma scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s what, the third or fourth time that association has come up for me?¡±
[I wasn¡¯t joking when I said you were like me, back in my youth. The magic would come naturally to you, if you ever attempted to learn it. I¡¯d give you as much as a 20% chance of surviving the process, where most people are in the single digits.]
¡°Pretty good odds,¡± Emma allowed. ¡°Especially if it''s as destructive as what happened in my memories. Maybe something to look into, when I have the time.¡±
Then, because time was ticking on her buff, Emma carefully cleared her workspace, placing the recently made candles to the side to let them dry in peace.
[Candle Attribute - Soothing selected.]
Despite her appreciation of Chaos, Emma opted not to take it for her candles, as while she had gotten quite good at surviving, the risk of a random effect killing other users drastically limited its appeal. Likewise, Emma was already rather good at inspiring fear, but lacked methods for non-lethal takedowns, which made the Soothing attribute an obvious choice.
¡°Well, that¡¯s easy,¡± Emma remarked as knowledge of her new candle flowed into her mind.
It was basically an ordinary candle, with the addition of a calming scent, which could come from any number of places, and just a hint of magic to increase the potency. Choosing to use what was closest to hand, Emma grabbed a handful of Earl Grey tea bags, puncturing them and pouring the contents into half a dozen glass jars. The fragrant smell of bergamot, with just a hint of citrus filled the air, providing a pleasant backdrop as Emma returned to the stove to heat up her next batch of wax. A few minutes later, she poured the hot wax into the jars, added a toothpick to each to serve as the wick, and finished the whole process with a mild infusion of magic.
[MP: 40/100
6x Soothing Candle created.
25 (50) EXP gained.]
The EXP gain was less than the Black Candle, which made sense given its relative complexity, and Emma decided that six was enough for this particular product. She¡¯d be taking them all with her to Blenheim; as an elephant tranquiliser seemed like overkill for a bit of insomnia. There were pills for that anyway, she was pretty sure. Putting them aside to dry, Emma wasted no time moving to her next batch; more Hallowed Candles, as those were the ones most likely to make a tangible difference in the town¡¯s survival. By now, she was confident enough to have halved the time taken, so instead of six glass jars for this batch, she went for a full dozen.
[12x Hallowed Candle (Demonic) created.
100 (200) EXP gained.
Level up!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 5 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 50/100
-
EXP: 600/850
Select one of three options below:
-
Ability - Candle Intent (Cost: 100 MP): Imbue any candle you¡¯re holding with your intent, granting it immense penetrating power.
-
Trait - Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
-
Candle Attribute - Blinding: Looking directly at this will cause permanent eye damage.]
¡°...Do I want to know why that first ability exists?¡± Emma asked, after reading it several times to check she hadn¡¯t misunderstood.
[That was created by an old cultivator; a formation master who was ambushed one day in his workshop, with nothing except a pair of candles at hand. He was also good with a sword, and could manifest Sword Intent. The resulting combination was odd, but surprisingly effective.]
¡°That¡¡± Emma trailed off. ¡°Cultivators are weird.¡±
[Yes, they are.]
Her curiosity assuaged, Emma moved on to the other choices, and in the end found none of them particularly appealing. She had another form to fight in, and had no desire to be blinded, so she settled on the passive choice which might prove useful if she ever had to work with toxic fumes.
[Trait - Breath Control selected.
EXP gain returns to normal.]
All in all, a productive hour of her time.
Chapter 144: Final Preparations
Chapter 144: Final Preparations
[6x Soothing Candle stored.
Leftovers (Home Made) withdrawn.]
As Emma brought out a second serving to refresh the effect of Home Is Where the Hearth Is, the limitations of the Trait quickly became apparent. It only took effect after finishing a home-cooked meal, and while she wasn¡¯t sure the exact definition of meal, it was clear by now that it had to be a sizable portion. A second box was doable, and maybe even a third, but Emma doubted she could manage more than that consecutively; this wasn¡¯t quite a video game where food vanished into pixels, her stomach could only handle so much at a time.
[EXP gain doubled for 1 hour.]
Thankfully, that wasn¡¯t an immediate problem, and Emma was able to continue her work without succumbing to the call of the porcelain throne. There were twenty glass jars remaining, which meant two batches of ten were the way to go.
[20x Hallowed Candle (Demonic) created.
100 (200) EXP gained!]
She managed to finish the second and final batch a few minutes before the hour, thus sparing her stomach a third course. It wasn¡¯t quite enough to get her another level up, not with each candle giving less EXP as her level increased, but she was still more than happy with the outcome. Cleanup was as easy as always; any detritus being swallowed up by Eden¡¯s Echo before reappearing in the bin. The more Emma got used to her storage item, the more she understood why Amal had called it a necessity for all practitioners; it truly did make everyday life so much easier.
With her supplies depleted, there were only a few things left to take care of before tomorrow¡¯s journey. There was still half a bowl of human blood left, which would be a waste to throw away; so Emma headed to the garden with it to feed the Potted Hydra. Saint was already there when she arrived, curled up into a ball as she chewed on the remains of a fat rat that she''d caught god knows where.
The Potted Hydra had also eaten its share, as evidenced by a faint coating of red that slowly vanished before Emma¡¯s eyes, absorbed through some mechanism unknown to her. The plant shivered as she emptied the bowl onto it, but showed no other reaction nor any attempt to communicate.
¡°It''s gonna take a while before it wakes up, I guess?¡±
[Anywhere between weeks or years, depending on how old it is. A hydra lives for a long time, their rate of growth reflects that.]
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¡°Lovely.¡±
Now done with her chores for the day, Emma was left with an empty bowl in hand. Kneeling down, she attempted to place the bloody receptacle on Saint¡¯s head to make an impromptu bowler hat.
[-30 HP]
Saint swatted the bowl away as soon as it came within arm¡¯s reach, sending it flying off into the distance with a burst of enhanced strength, the aftershock breaking Emma¡¯s wrist for good measure.
¡°Well, it was worth a try,¡± Emma laughed, storing the homunculus away and returning to her armour.
Saint hissed at her, deeply unamused, before tossing a rat skeleton at her head.
¡ª
Dover had fared rather poorly for a town of its size. Whilst only officially home to a little over 30,000 residents, its location at the narrowest point of the English channel meant a constant influx of visitors, whether they be tourists crossing over via the Eurostar or sailors aboard one of the many boats at the Port of Dover, the busiest maritime port in the country. The actual population at any given time was far higher, with the end result being an influx of Demons more comparable to a city with a six figure population, and the near-total destruction of lives and infrastructure alike.
This is meant to be our home for the next month?
Elizabeth was far from impressed. While Oxford had fared little better, repairs had turned it into a town that, whilst not quite up to modern standards, was still very livable. Dover, by contrast, was still mostly a crater overlooking the sea.
¡°Only until the Solstice nears. Even the most opportunistic would not dare invade by that point, they have their own rites to observe on the longest day.¡±
Elizabeth spun around, searching for the voice. It came from everywhere at once, stymying her efforts at echolocation. Gathering herself, Elizabeth stopped relying on her eyes and ears, and instead drew upon her magic. This was a bit more helpful, but only a bit, as Elizabeth¡¯s scrying told her she was simultaneously in an open clearing and inside a castle''s antechamber.
¡°More puzzles, wonderful.¡±
Reaching into her pocket for a small straw doll, she began the slow, careful process of separating illusions and truth.
¡ª
¡°Why are there so many demons?¡± Astrid grunted, prying the body of a massive, bloodthirsty rabbit loose from her spear.
The corpse began to disintegrate as soon as it hit the ground, vanishing into wisps of mana shortly after to join the other two dozen of its pack.
[The population density in England is more than tenfold that of Sweden at a national level. The discrepancy is even bigger when looking at South England versus the north of Sweden. Lapland got off very lightly, all things considered.]
¡°I noticed.¡±
Shaking her head, Astrid reached for the pendant at her neck, feeling it for a brief moment.
¡°Warmer again, we¡¯re on the right track.¡±
The pendant itself was nothing special; what mattered was the slip of paper it held, specially attuned to the last known location of the letter she¡¯d sent to Emma. A secondary enchantment made it heat up the closer Astrid got; eventually, she¡¯d be close enough that the entire thing burst into flames. Eventually, but not today.
[It¡¯s almost sunset, you may want to find shelter before night falls.]
Astrid frowned, but didn¡¯t argue as she began to look for a place to sleep. It wasn¡¯t hard; there were far more empty houses in the suburbs than there were people, these days.
Chapter 145: The Porcelain Throne
Chapter 145: The Porcelain Throne
Emma got up at exactly ten minutes before noon, feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world. She¡¯d had nothing to do since the previous afternoon, having exhausted her crafting supplies and without any enemies to fight. Her scuffle with Saint didn¡¯t count; a bit of wrestling in the garden wasn¡¯t sufficient to gain EXP, not when they were both holding back so much. Sure, Emma could have headed beyond the walls to go find some demons, but she was already anticipating plenty of combat to come, so instead she took the time to do what she hadn¡¯t been able to since the apocalypse started: sleep in.
She¡¯d always had her mind on one goal or another up to this point, so taking sixteen hours to lie in bed and do absolutely nothing proved a most enjoyable experience. Truth be told, she¡¯d woken up a while ago, but decided to remain in bed until she had to go. There was nothing to pack, all of that had been done the day before, and her commute was short; just a quick trip through the walls and a short walk to the motor pool. Emma didn¡¯t bother commandeering a bird this time; she¡¯d already seen what she wanted from the sky, and was happy enough to let people see her in turn. She wasn¡¯t expecting much excitement until the trip got underway, but predictably, the fates didn¡¯t quite agree with her.
A small crowd had gathered in the next building over, including several familiar faces Emma recognised from her brief stints in the medical tent. One man was being carried away in a stretcher; half a dozen others looked worse for wear but were at least capable of walking themselves alongside the medics. Having a bad feeling about this, Emma made her way over, her armoured form attracting attention by mere virtue of her presence. All the way, she looked for signs of battle or sabotage, only to find nothing out of the ordinary besides some men who looked very poorly indeed.
One of the assistant mechanics from Emma¡¯s last excursion waved her over, recognising her.
¡°Do you want the bad news or the worse news?¡± He began by way of greeting.
¡°Surprise me,¡± Emma deadpanned, already knowing she wouldn¡¯t like either answer.
¡°So, today was meant to be a big supply run. Grabbing lots of things, but one of the big ticket items is petrol to keep our fleet running. We were already running a bit low, and dipped into our reserve this morning, only to find some of the tanks went bad.¡±
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¡°Petrol can expire?¡± Emma frowned, connecting the dots.
¡°Yeah. Usually takes months, but if the tanks weren¡¯t sealed, and there were gaps left over? It goes bad. So, you¡¯re not getting as many vehicles as originally planned. We can¡¯t risk sending them out, not finding enough petrol and having to abandon them in the field. Hopefully, a half-sized convoy is enough, and can bring back more fuel for a later trip to get the rest of what the town needs.¡±
Emma nodded along, unsure whether this was the bad or worse news, because in truth it mattered little to her, when she only needed a single vehicle to bring her to Woodstock; everything else was just a bonus.
¡°Now for the worse news,¡± the mechanic continued, answering Emma¡¯s unspoken question. ¡°The troops gathered up this morning for a proper English Breakfast. It¡¯s tradition, before heading out to the field, a hearty meal with all the trimmings. Now, we¡¯re still not sure if it was the sausages, the bacon or the black pudding, but something was a bit off.¡±
¡°All the soldiers are out of action?¡±
¡°Not all, thankfully,¡± the mechanic clarified. ¡°One fire team is predominantly vegetarian, so they escaped the worst of it. Again, you¡¯ll be running much lighter than usual; one technical with a heavy machine gun, two riflemen on and a driver as the escort. Six civvie vans with just a driver each, maximising space to bring back as much loot as they can. That¡¯s the most we can spare, given the fuel constraints in play.¡±
¡°What kind of demons are we expecting to face?¡± Emma asked; the most relevant question she could think of that didn¡¯t denigrate the competence of everyone involved, which wouldn¡¯t play well with the crowd.
¡°Everyone will be back home by sunset, so just the small ones. A full military patrol already went ahead on the same route, three days ago, to clear out any big ones.¡±
¡°If that¡¯s what we¡¯re facing, I can guarantee everyone¡¯s safety on the way to Woodstock,¡± Emma offered. ¡°I¡¯m getting off there, so I¡¯d recommend they take the same route back if they want to avoid any surprises.¡±
"That¡¯s the plan,¡± the mechanic agreed, relief clear in his voice. ¡°Thanks for tagging along again, I heard the last trip was a doozy. I¡¯ll leave you to it then.¡±
There wasn¡¯t much to be said after that, as the mechanic returned his attention to the vehicles heading out. Emma recognised a familiar converted pickup truck, the only difference being the presence of two riflemen on the back, leaving no space for her. It was followed by six Ford Transits, their insides hollowed out to maximise carrying capacity, leaving only the driver¡¯s seat intact.
¡°I¡¯ll get my own ride, thanks,¡± Emma murmured, having no intention to be thrown about in the boot; there wasn¡¯t even anything to grab ahold of, this time around.
Emma turned her head skyward, happy to repeat what worked before, with caveats. Instead of grabbing the first bird she saw, Emma waited until a pigeon was available before activating Oversoul and claiming its body for herself. She¡¯d come to value the increased endurance, after testing a variety of birds, and decided this was the best option for what could be a prolonged excursion. Settling down on the roof of the pickup truck, Emma waited for the convoy to set out.
Chapter 146: Ticket to Ride
Chapter 146: Ticket to Ride
The supply convoy set off at half past twelve on the dot. In the first few minutes, Emma flitted between the vehicles, one eye ever towards the horizon in anticipation of trouble, the previous patrol¡¯s ending fresh on her mind. It quickly became evident that her concerns were not shared by the rest of the party; whilst the riflemen stood straight at attention, their weapons were held loosely and they were chatting away on their headsets. The machine gunner was napping outright, and every vehicle present was playing music of some sort; the pickup truck favoured country rock, but a quick flutter around the convoy showed that rap, metal and pop were all in evidence.
[Remember, the path being taken was already cleared recently. The expectations are very different when setting out on a routine supply run, vis a vis an extermination mission where heavy combat is a given.]
So it is, Emma agreed, taking wing again, now hovering at treetop height, partly to maintain a lookout but mainly to avoid the multiple overlapping songs proving that more did not always equal better. Despite her caution though, the outbound journey was genuinely peaceful, without so much as a hint of demonic activity anywhere to be seen. Clear skies, bright sunlight and a calm drive through the English countryside; all of this only served to deepen her sense of foreboding.
With the roads otherwise empty, it took a mere twenty minutes to reach the border of Woodstock, a testament to the toll traffic usually took on such journeys. Like the rest of the world, the town had seen better times. Cracked windows, overturned bins, and the occasional burnt out vehicle were the order of the day. The roads were empty and unkempt; once carefully cultivated gardens growing wild and spilling onto the street. Compared to the crater that used to be Oxford though, the town had survived remarkably well. There weren¡¯t any people around, admittedly, but Emma thought that if she squinted just right, she could even see lights inside some of the windows.
[Foolish, to advertise their position so blatantly. The smart ones will have curtains shut at all times.]
Emma flew ahead of the convoy, which had slowed to a crawl, as it reached the first empty house, the drivers disembarking as the search for supplies began. There were no signs of danger, so Emma felt safe enough to head a bit further forward to do some scouting of her own. Predictably, that was when things went a bit wrong.
¡°Got one!¡±
A thin, reedy shout was Emma¡¯s only warning, and then she was falling in her armour.
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[-300 Anima]
Her landing was far from graceful, though at least she got back up again, unlike the pigeon, which had caught a brief case of death. Examining the bird, Emma found its chest caved in, but no signs of the projectile that did it. That corrected itself a moment later, when a small stone bounced off of Emma¡¯s head, failing to do enough damage to even register in the System. A second stone followed; this time, she saw it coming and grabbed it mid flight, turning a gimlet eye on the perpetrator.
[Scavenger - Level 1]
A slingshot?
Given the level of threats Emma had already faced in recent memory, it was a disappointing showing. A gaunt, malnourished looking youth stared her down, the rock already loaded in his slingshot and a knife at his waist the only things elevating him above Level 0.
¡°This is our town, beat it!¡±
Emma looked to and fro, but neither her eyes nor the System could find anyone else.
¡°You¡¯ll do,¡± Emma murmured, deciding that either the youth was bluffing and actually alone, or his companions were very well hidden. ¡°Oversoul.¡±
Like most of her targets for possession, the Scavenger barely put up a fight; just a second or two of distraction, and then his mind was shunted out of the driver¡¯s seat. Unfortunately, this was where the limitations of Oversoul came into stark relief; while it granted access to the physical body, memories remained completely separate, meaning Emma still had no idea where he¡¯d come from, or where any hypothetical companions might be hiding. Luckily for her, none of this was actually her problem.
¡°Show yourselves, wherever you are,¡± Emma demanded in her captive¡¯s voice, pulling the knife from his belt and holding it to his neck. ¡°Come out and surrender yourselves, or the boy gets it.¡±
Earthbound Immortal, seek and destroy.
In tandem with her demand, a mental order brought the earth elemental into play, spawning beneath the ground as he was wont to do. Whilst that wouldn¡¯t allow him to see in the traditional sense, he was, by nature, exceptionally attuned to the tremors of the ground, which had its own advantages. For a while, nothing happened, not even when Emma drew blood, carving a thin line into the boy¡¯s neck, but eventually, her unseen enemies broke, and red dots populated her map as their movements exposed them to her summon.
[Gang Leader - Level 2
Scavenger - Level 1
Scavenger - Level 1]
¡°Capture them,¡± Emma ordered, no longer keeping up pretences as she exited her possessed body.
A fist to the head repaid the boy for his earlier stones; Emma held back considerably, so his skull remained intact, but he¡¯d have a bad headache when he woke back up. His companions, meanwhile, were busy screaming as the earth twisted beneath them, hauling them out of the nearby brush. The presumed leader was an adult, taller and bulkier and the only one carrying a firearm; the other two were much like her first victim and utterly unworthy of notice, slingshots and all.
¡°What are you doing here?¡± Emma sighed, a bit let down by it all. With such a difference in Level, she¡¯d get barely anything for killing them.
¡°What are we doing here? This is our town!¡±
¡°You¡¯d be dead a hundred times over, with just the four of you,¡± Emma retorted. ¡°Even stray demons would do you in; so tell me, how many people are here, and who actually runs the show?"
Chapter 147: Time For Something New
Chapter 147: Time For Something New
In reply to Emma¡¯s question, the Gang Leader drew his sidearm and shot her point blank in the head.
[-100 Anima]
Emma just shook her head, and issued another mental order to her summon.
Squeeze.
The hand holding him expanded to cover his entire body, then clenched just once, reducing him to a fine red paste.
[10 EXP gained.]
As expected, a pittance of EXP was her only reward. Belatedly, Emma realised she could have stored his gun as well, before dismissing the thought. She¡¯d already grabbed one earlier, and had neither training nor spare ammo in any event.
[Everyone goes through a hoarding phase at some stage, typically right after getting their first storage item. Practitioners usually grow out of it after filling the whole thing up and having to empty it out.]
¡°You two will be more cooperative, I hope?¡±
Emma asked rhetorically, even as she ordered the Earthbound Immortal to release the remaining Scavengers. They nodded fervently, any bravado in them quickly extinguished alongside their leader¡¯s life.
¡°Catch,¡± Emma, for her part, was happy to let them take her captive off her hands, tossing the unconscious one into their arms.
¡°Now let¡¯s try this again. What are you doing here, and what kind of numbers are we looking at?¡±
Just as her captive audience recovered their wits and looked about to answer, the rumbling of engines caught her ear. Emma didn''t bother turning around, recognising the sounds of the convoy she''d become rather familiar with lately.
¡°Soldiers?¡±
One of the Scavengers muttered, glancing back and forth between Emma and the new arrivals, trying to work out what was happening. He was the smart one.
¡°Help, this maniac attacked us out of nowhere, and wants to kill us all!¡±
His companion screamed hysterically, drawing everyone''s eye and pointing at Emma in a truly awful attempt at acting. He didn''t realise that the Earthbound Immortal was still beneath him, something Emma took full advantage of. Swapping places with her summon using Parallel Lives, she reappeared right in front of the screamer, driving her palm into his face.
The wave of death magic that followed took off everything above the neck, putting a sudden end to his complaints.
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[5 EXP gained.]
As before, Emma only earned a pittance for this, but by this point it wasn''t about the EXP, it was about sending a message.
¡°We''re just out looking for food!¡±
The only conscious Scavenger remaining blurted out, finally answering part of Emma¡¯s question.
¡°There''s a couple dozen of us living in the old church. Demons don''t go inside, so it''s safe, but the cellar''s running out of food, so we all chip in to find some.¡±
[5 EXP gained.]
Emma glanced back at the first man she¡¯d incapacitated; still unconscious, he¡¯d fallen awkwardly when Emma released him, his neck snapping on landing.
So fragile.
¡°More impostors?¡± The one of the riflemen asked, his rifle trained on the sole survivor the moment he landed.
He wasn¡¯t one of the men on Emma¡¯s previous patrol, so word had clearly spread.
¡°No, just fools,¡± Emma shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m curious about the church they mentioned though. Are houses of faith typically protected from the demons?¡±
¡°...Not that I know of,¡± the rifleman grunted. ¡°We¡¯ll take a look, want to come with us?¡±
¡°No need; you¡¯ll be fine, if slingshots and handguns are the standard of opposition. I¡¯ll make my own way to the castle.¡±
Emma didn¡¯t bother searching for another bird; they were fragile, as the slingshot incident showed, and she didn¡¯t want to risk being sniped out of the air by something more dangerous. Sir Bearington made his reappearance for the first time in a few days, carrying Emma off the main road and only the dirt footpath leading to her destination. The convoy soon faded from view, her last sight of them being the soldiers cuffing the survivor and dragging him into the back of one of the vans.
The footpath was clear, suspiciously so; by the halfway mark, Emma had expected to see signs of wildlife running about the undergrowth, but even the rats and rabbits were staying well away judging by the complete lack of tracks and droppings. Sir Bearington made good time, and ten minutes later they were in front of Blenheim Palace, and Emma felt a chill settle on her neck. The palace grounds were pristine; the vast front lawn perfectly ordered, the grass trimmed evenly and not a single blade out of place.
¡°It took a full-time groundskeeper just to keep our school garden clear. Something this size would take an entire team working daily to maintain.¡±
Try as she might, Emma couldn¡¯t find any signs of human activity, and her minimap likewise remained clear. Sir Bearington whined as she urged him onward, instincts even death could not erase protesting their course. She would not be denied however; so on they went. A singular iron gateway proved no obstacle; Emma extended her intangibility to Sir Bearington for a moment, and they were through. After that, all they had to do was continue down the singular gravel pathway cutting through the lawn, until at last they both stood before the palace doors.
¡°You first,¡± Emma ordered, still rather wary of her surroundings.
Sir Bearington obliged, standing upright and knocking with surprising softness, given his bulk. When nobody answered the door, he knocked again. And again. And again. She gave no order to stop, so he kept knocking, and with every thud, the air grew just a tiny bit heavier, an invisible weight settling upon Emma¡¯s shoulders.
[Hallowed Candle (Demonic) withdrawn.
Lighter (Full) withdrawn.]
¡°This is creepy as hell,¡± Emma muttered, lighting a Hallowed Candle for the first time.
The blood red candle stood tall, its face set in a rictus grin. No flame was lit; even as the lighter vanished from sight, before Emma had any chance to try using it again.
[Oh no.]
The candle vanished, too, and a banshee screamed in the distance. Emma was halfway to summoning her sword when the world vanished in a sea of white.
[It''s About Time resisted.]
¡ª
¡°...Not that I know of,¡± the rifleman grunted. ¡°We¡¯ll take a look, want to come with us?¡±
Emma blinked once, and found herself facing the rifleman again, the latter eyeing the captive Scavenger dubiously.
[Ah. This could be a problem.]
Chapter 148: Time For Time Force
Chapter 148: Time For Time Force
Emma had no idea what just happened. Thankfully, she was pretty used to that by this point, and could pretend to be calm and collected, for a short time at least.
Edith? What¡¯s going on?
[Give me a moment. There¡¯s a lot to unpack here.]
The rifleman was still waiting for her answer, so Emma decided to go with what worked before.
¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine, if all you¡¯re facing are slingshots and the occasional handgun. I¡¯ll be heading to the Palace now.¡±
Her reply was a bit more abrupt than last time, but it wasn¡¯t as if the soldiers could tell the difference. In any event, Emma called Sir Bearington back out and climbed on board, ordering him onto the footpath without further hesitation. This time, she sat facing backwards, and didn¡¯t take her eyes off of the convoy as the surviving Scavenger was restrained and bundled into the back of a van. Only when they were reduced to blurs in the distance did Emma order her mount to stop.
[Light a Black Candle.
Black Candle (5/6) withdrawn.
Matchbox withdrawn.]
Emma didn¡¯t question the order; it took a bit of fumbling to light the match one handed, but less than a minute later, the world faded from view inside a bubble of darkness.
[Alright. From this point onward, mental communication ONLY. Even a single spoken word can put you in a hole that even I¡¯d be hard-pressed to dig you out of. Am I clear?]
Emma nodded automatically, before realising nobody could see her.
[Good. So, as you¡¯ve probably already gathered given my reaction, the situation at Blenheim Palace is FUBAR. The basement holds a teleportation gateway, not a time machine. It¡¯s designed to send people across vast distances in less than a second, a strict act of spatial manipulation. Except that¡¯s not true, because space and time can¡¯t be divided so neatly, despite the best efforts of physicists and philosophers alike.]
I¡¯m not sure I understand, Emma protested.
[That¡¯s perfectly fine. Even a general overview of the subject matter is typically an optional module in the final year of an undergraduate degree in Physics, to put it into context. A deep dive would be strictly a postgraduate subject. All you need to know is that space and time are interlinked, to the point where when one breaks badly, there are ripple effects upon the other. For a teleportation gate to become capable of sending us backwards in time, even by a few minutes, well, it¡¯s not looking good.
Given the circumstances, your quest needs an update.
Vae Victis quest updated!
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Objective: Assess the condition of the teleportation gateway in the catacombs beneath the Palace. [COMPLETE!]
300 EXP gained for stumbling upon a colossal shitshow.
The following have been removed.
-
Objective: Reclaim control of Blenheim Palace for the Empire.
-
Bonus Objective: Find and capture the saboteur.
-
Bonus Objective: Restore the connection to the mainland.
The following has been added.
-
Objective: Deactivate the gateway beneath Blenheim Palace before it explodes.
Rewards have been updated.
-
5000 Thrones >>> 25,000 Thrones
-
Commendation (Order of the Empire) Third Class >>> First Class
-
Ticket to Ride (The Ghost Train) >>> Season Ticket (The Ghost Train)
-
Residence Permit (Avalon) added.
Penalty for Failure amended:
-
1000 Throne fine, Named and Shamed >>> Death]
Those are some hefty rewards, Emma thought. That penalty though¡
[Yes. Strictly speaking, a quest at this level should not be assigned to a single Practitioner, no matter how good they are at punching above their weight. The System does not assign impossible tasks, but this one is near the upper bound of what is considered achievable.
Given the extent of the changes, I can cancel this quest for you without penalty, and reassign it to a Magus who assists Paradox in maintaining the timeline. It will take longer, but he¡¯ll find this job far more familiar.]
But if the gate blows before he arrives? Emma pressed.
[Then Lough Neagh wouldn¡¯t be the biggest lake in the UK anymore. With your traits, you¡¯d survive the blast though. Probably.]
And my family?
[Elizabeth is in Dover, so she should be far enough away. Felix is safe inside his dungeon. As for Noah, well, he might level up and get something to save him between now and then?]
¡I¡¯m keeping the quest, Emma shook her head. What can you tell me about the inside of the Palace?
[Nothing.]
Nothing? I know you¡¯re not a big fan of my Dad, but is this really the time?
[Indulge me for a moment, alright? Picture this: a young Johne Smythe is born in Wick, in county Caithless, one of the northernmost towns in Scotland. He grew up a typical young boy, fascinated by fishing and football. He wasn¡¯t good enough to be scouted by a football academy, nor did he enjoy academia, so he took an apprenticeship on the fishing boat of a close family friend. At twenty three years old, he was swept overboard during a storm and presumed dead, his body never found despite the best efforts of the coast guard. Does all this sound reasonable to you?]
Yes? Emma replied after a moment¡¯s thought. It''s not the life I¡¯ve known, but fishermen can and do die on the job.
[Which brings me to the point: prove to me that Johne existed.]
How? Emma retorted. I only know of him from your story.
[Right, which means that for you, Johne exists only insofar as I¡¯m telling you he did. If you were to take the time to go north, you might find more substantial signs of him. Old legal documentation, or the accounts of friends and family. But if none of that existed? If the man is gone, and every trace of his passing extinguished, did he ever exist?]
I don¡¯t know.
[You don¡¯t know. This is a problem, the same one I¡¯m facing right now, trying to look into the future of a certain basement. Space is so unstable that whatever I see exists only while my intent is focused upon it. In the time it would take to tell you what I saw, the world moves on.]
So what you¡¯re saying is¡
[You¡¯re going in blind. Last chance to cancel the quest, if you want it.]
¡Let¡¯s get this over with, Emma sighed, snuffing out the Black Candle, and ordering Sir Bearington to head for the palace.
Chapter 149: Round Two, Fight!
Chapter 149: Round Two, Fight!
As she approached Blenheim Palace for the second time, Emma double checked the contents of her inventory, and came across an unpleasant surprise. She was down a Hallowed Candle, with five instead of six in Eden¡¯s Echo, and her lighter was nowhere to be found. Both of these, despite the fact that they¡¯d only vanished at the palace gates, last time around.
[You can¡¯t count on a perfect reversal. Not with the current instability.]
That could be a problem, Emma realised. Even if we get multiple tries at this, if resources aren¡¯t replenished, each loop will leave us worse off for the next attempt.
Emma commanded Sir Bearington to halt before the palace gardens, determined to do some research before charging in blindly once more.
Earthbound immortal.
The earth elemental emerged at her command, extending two small, humanlike hands to take custody of the Black Candle and the matchbox.
[Matchbox stored.
Candle withdrawn.
Soothing Candle withdrawn.
Hallowed Candle (Demonic) withdrawn.]
One of each remaining candle was added to the pile, forcing the creation of a few more hands to hold them all, before the Earthbound Immortal made its way up the lawn, retracing Emma¡¯s steps from the previous timeline. Halfway to the palace gates, he stopped in place and lit the ordinary candle. Unlike before, there was no hint of the unsettling presence that had grated at Emma¡¯s nerves. Thinking this might be due to her own position, Emma took a few steps inside the palace garden, but nothing changed.
Drop the candle.
Her summon obeyed, tossing the still-lit candle into the nearest patch of grass. The moment it landed, Emma heard the same ghastly shriek from before, and the Candle popped, for lack of a better word, splattering the lawn with chunks of wax. Emma kept an eye out for the perpetrator as she caught up to her summon, but nothing showed itself, allowing her to examine the remains of the candle.
Flash frozen?
Picking up a piece revealed it to be cold to the touch, and extremely brittle. Just a bit of pressure from her fingertips was enough to turn the wax into powder.
The Soothing Candle, next.
A calming fragrance filled the air; one that Emma couldn¡¯t place exactly, but reminded her of the rose garden she passed each day on her way to school.
[Status condition: Sleep resisted.]
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The soporific effect was wholly ineffective on Emma and her summon, as expected. She was hopeful that it would catch the hitherto unseen presence destroying her candles, but as the minutes ticked by, there was no reaction, even as the Soothing Candle burned down to its halfway point.
Hold on, Emma realised. That candle should be good to burn for hours, not minutes.
[Status condition: Wither resisted.]
That¡¯s a new one, Emma noted, trying and failing to recall seeing it before.
[Wither rapidly consumes the lifespan of those affected. You don¡¯t really have a fixed lifespan anymore, so it¡¯s nothing to worry about.]
Still scary though, good thing I came here alone.
[Those who are affected will feel it immediately; they might lose a few months, but nobody is going to stand around while their life drains away. Those who run in the right direction might even survive.]
Emma considered that for a moment, as she watched the last remnants of the Soothing Candle burn itself out to no avail. When only a tenth of it was remaining, she ordered it tossed to the ground; watching as it fell onto the lawn - and right through it into the depths unknown.
A different outcome, compared to the ordinary candle. Is it the magic it detects, or something else? Try the Black Candle now.
As before, the Earthbound Immortal raised a match to the candle, lighting a wick that did not fully exist. Black smoke began to form around the candle, spreading sluggishly in a far cry from the instant darkness Emma was used to.
[Stop!]
The Black Candle was crushed to a pulp, a casualty of Emma¡¯s sudden order; she¡¯d ordered it smothered, without any thought spared for proportionate force. As the smoke cleared and she got a proper look at her surroundings, Emma realised the urgency behind Edith¡¯s command. The lawn gradually returned to normality, the lower layers regaining their colouring inch by inch, from what had been remarkably translucent just moments ago, reminding Emma of her own intangibility.
[That which cannot be observed is not certain to exist. You¡¯re free to speak verbally again, that particular danger has passed. In its place, a new rule from this point onward: no darkness.]
¡°I have no idea what¡¯s going on here,¡± Emma complained, taking advantage of her returned speaking privileges to issue her final order of the session. ¡°Light the Hallowed Candle.¡±
[It¡¯s About Time resisted.]
This time, Emma saw the notification of her Trait activating before the candle vanished in blinding white light.
¡°Does this count as progress-¡±
¡ª
¡°...Not that I know of,¡± the rifleman grunted. ¡°We¡¯ll take a look, want to come with us?¡±
Emma checked her inventory again, ignoring the rifleman as she glanced down the list.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings stored are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
5050 Thrones
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
-
5x Black Candle
-
5x Candle
-
4x Hallowed Candle (Demonic)
-
5x Soothing Candle
-
Browning Hi-Power (13/13)
-
30x Meals, Ready to Eat
-
10x Bottled Mineral Water (2L)
-
Leftovers (Home Made)
-
2x Stainless Steel Pot
-
Shovel
-
British Army Knife]
True to her expectations, the resources expended before were gone; everything Emma thought might have an impact, short of firing arrows at random, and she wasn¡¯t that far gone just yet.
¡°Sure, let¡¯s go take a look at this church,¡± Emma agreed, before the rifleman could prompt her again. ¡°Somehow, I have the feeling I¡¯m not meant to visit Blenheim Palace just yet.¡±
Chapter 150: Awkward Timing
Chapter 150: Awkward Timing
[50 EXP gained for making a wise choice.]
Fittingly enough, it was Emma¡¯s decision to take a different course that provided her the final bit of EXP needed to push her over the edge.
[Level up!
True Form: Level 15 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 5000
-
EXP: 8025/10000
You may now maintain 2 summoned simulacrums simultaneously!
Due to significant exposure to an unstable space time rift, your selections for this level have been modified accordingly! Let¡¯s do the Time Warp again!
Warning! All selections below are ephemeral; you have 1 hour to make your selections before they are lost.
Select
one from the following options:
-
Clockblocked: One With Everything cooldown reduced (1 hour >>> 10 minutes)
-
Timesnatch: Parallel Lives cooldown reduced (1 minute >>> 10 seconds)
Select
one from the following options:
-
Time for a Hug: No Pal of Mine cooldown reduced (1 hour >>> 10 minutes)
-
Timely Retreat: Return cooldown reduced (1 Day >>> 1 Hour)
Select
0-2 of the following options:
-
Vacuum Decay: Sacrifice Weeping Scar, We¡¯re All Mad Here, It¡¯s About Time, 12 Candles
-
Angel of Extinction cooldown reduced (12 days > 12 hours).
-
Event Horizon: Sacrifice 4500 Base Anima, Arcanivore, 30x Meals, Ready to Eat, 10x Mineral Water, Leftovers (Home Made), 2x Stainless Steel Pot, 7x Candles, 5000 Thrones,
-
Divine Conduit (Anathema) >>> Hunger]
What the hell?
Emma had planned to grab another bird, continuing her original role with the convoy as high flying reconnaissance. The sudden glut of status updates derailed that plan entirely; instead, she accepted a seat in the van at the very back of the convoy, while the surviving Scavenger was brought into the front vehicle at gunpoint. She paid no attention to the radio, detailing what would be another fifteen minute drive to reach the church; her mind was fully focused on the ramifications of the most complex, and possibly the most important level up of her life.
There were four choices to be made, taking into account the compound structure of the final selection. Of them, the first three decisions, at least, came easily. Edith¡¯s uncharacteristic concern for her life was enough to convince Emma of the serious threats ahead, threats that she was already struggling to detect at the palace garden.
[Clockblocked selected!]
Accordingly, Emma prioritised a reduced cooldown on her lifesaving Trait, rather than a mobility tool that would require her to be aware and proactive in dodging.
[Time for a Hug selected!]
Likewise, getting her summons to respawn faster could mean the difference between life and death in an extended battle. Reducing the cooldown of Return, meanwhile, was barely considered. Given the potential consequences of failing to seal the spacetime gate, Emma couldn¡¯t see a situation where returning to Oxford and having to take the long way back would be beneficial; assuming she could even teleport from inside Blenheim Palace. Other boss fights had locked teleportation before, so she wasn¡¯t confident in that either.
Finally, while it hurt to lose Weeping Scar and We¡¯re All Mad Here, Emma regarded those as win-more abilities. Namely, they would only take effect if she was able to land blows on her opponents; and in those situations, she was now strong enough to be confident in coming out on top, debuffs or no debuffs. When also taking into account that her summons could fulfil a similar role of damage over time, and that she could now keep two of them active at the same time, their importance faded. It¡¯s About Time, meanwhile, seemed good given the challenge facing her; if not for the fact that it was being resisted or ignored at every turn. Having considered all of this, Emma ultimately decided to take the plunge, and drastically reduce the cooldown of her strongest Ability.
[Vaccum Decay selected!]
As for the candles to sacrifice, Emma tossed the five mundane ones alongside the same number of Black Candles, as the latter were now forbidden to use. A pair of Soothing Candles rounded up the numbers, and then she was done. Done with the easy decisions, that is. Because for as much thought as was put into all of the above, it paled in comparison with the final selection available to her.
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[Event Horizon: Sacrifice 4500 Base Anima, Arcanivore, 30x Meals, Ready to Eat, 10x Mineral Water, Leftovers (Home Made), 2x Stainless Steel Pot, 7x Candles, 5000 Thrones.
-
Divine Conduit (Anathema) >>> Hunger]
The previous sacrifice asked for a few ancillary abilities to upgrade Emma¡¯s trump card. This sacrifice, on the other hand, asked for her first and longest standing ability; the power to heal in combat. Something that had saved her life on too many occasions to count now. Really, when set against that; the loss of most of her base anima would only add insult to injury, and the resource cost was completely trivial in comparison. Yet that was what the System offered, for a single trait evolution without any details given.
¡°Why?¡± Because what else could she ask in the face of such absurdity?
[I don¡¯t like it either, to be blunt. The Divine Conduit, as I originally envisioned it, would have been saved until after your introduction at the Solstice, sometime to be unveiled at a critical time to firmly establish your legend amongst the masses. But, well, plans have changed, and you can¡¯t grow your legend if you¡¯re dead.]
¡°You want me to take it, then.¡±
[Strictly speaking, a quest at this level should not be assigned to a single Practitioner, no matter how good they are at punching above their weight. The System does not assign impossible tasks, but this one is near the upper bound of what is considered achievable.]
The reply was the same as the original explanation given when the quest parameters changed. Emma would have thought it mocking, if she didn¡¯t know Edith well enough by now to know that wasn¡¯t her style.
¡°You don¡¯t think we¡¯ll win without taking it. Maybe not even with it.¡±
No reply, this time, but that was fine. Emma had already made her decision, because if she couldn¡¯t trust her System and ancestor, the source of all her powers, then she was doomed anyway.
[Event Horizon selected.
Hunger
Divine Conduit (Anathema) consumes itself, massively upgrading your Abilities and Traits with the power of a God that will never be.
All anima costs removed.
Ephemera reassigned to Traits.
Null and Void reassigned to Traits
Null and Void evolves into Null Zone: While active, all incoming magic fails.
All Level restrictions removed.
Babble Fish evolves.]
¡ª
Status Update
Practitioner Emma Knight
True Form: Level 15 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 500
-
EXP: 8025/10000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows made of ambient anima.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when simulacrum is defeated. Captured:
-
The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, inflicting Instant Death to anyone who saw it.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (TOGGLE: ON): When active, attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
Ephemera (TOGGLE: OFF): Become intangible while active.
-
Null Zone (TOGGLE: OFF): While active, all incoming magic fails.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce inaccurate, nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent towards you. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - Experience gains are doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
50 Thrones
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
-
Browning Hi-Power (13/13)
-
Shovel
-
British Army Knife
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms.
-
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood.
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Reward: A powerful ally from the Age of Myth, Saint¡¯s Divine Item
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Vae Victis
-
Objective: Deactivate the gateway beneath Blenheim Palace before it explodes.
-
Rewards: 25,000 Thrones, Commendation (Order of the Empire, First Class), Season Ticket (The Ghost Train), Residence Permit (Avalon)
-
Penalty for Failure: Death
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 5 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 800/850
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Clothing
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
-
Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
-
Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
Chapter 151: Take Me To Church
Chapter 151: Take Me To Church
Emma was silent for a good long while, for most of the ride in fact. There was a lot to read through, all of it in triplicate to ensure she didn¡¯t miss anything that might come back to bite her later. Only when they began to climb the hill leading to the church did she stir, reaching out for two of her upgraded traits.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)
Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
¡°I don¡¯t feel any different,¡± Emma remarked, as she slid her hand through the van window, the rest of her staying seated where she was. ¡°It¡¯s weird, not feeling a piece of myself disappearing with every passing moment. Almost like during my Archetype Forging, before I restored my armour.¡±
[Ephemera (Toggle: OFF)
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF)
20 EXP gained for an astute observation.
In a way, this is similar to a second evolution for your class. As a Revenant, you only existed due to the Anima tethering you to a suit of armour serving as your body. When you became a Damned Apostle, you were able to exist without a tether: but you had no experience with what that actually meant. Because of that, you were reduced to a floating soul, barely able to move at a crawl until you returned to a more familiar state. Without knowing how to manipulate the soul form, it¡¯s far from useful.
That¡¯s where Ephemera came in: the Ability contained built-in instincts for incorporeal existence, allowing you to keep a coherent form while intangible, decide when and to what degree you would phase through solid objects, and all the other little things most solid beings never have to think about. Very useful, but you lacked the power to sustain it for long, hence the ability cost being so steep.
Your new upgrades fixed that by allowing you to use ambient anima to sustain yourself nigh-indefinitely. Adding Null Zone on top of that, in a way that doesn¡¯t cause both traits to cancel eachother out? That was hard, the sort of thing a magical researcher can spend decades refining, before presenting it as their magnum opus. You¡¯re welcome.]
¡°So now I¡¯m both incredibly fragile, and functionally invincible,¡± Emma concluded, glancing at her status page again. ¡°Complete immunity to both physical and magical damage when my Traits are active, but no healing except natural regeneration outside of that, and a pittance of Anima.¡±
[There¡¯s a limit to what I can give out for each Level Up. The stronger I make the rewards, the more drawbacks have to be added: being able to use ambient Anima is a massive advantage, so your internal stores are reduced, leaving you incredibly fragile to compensate. Even with that, and everything else sacrificed as well, I was only able to give you this much. I recommend keeping your defences up whenever you¡¯re even remotely vulnerable. You¡¯ll need them.]
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On that reassuring note, Edith fell silent again, just in time for the driver¡¯s radio to crackle, signalling the end of their short journey. Heeding the advice received, Emma glanced at One With Everything, making sure that it was off cooldown, as the ability to survive anything at 1 Anima was now even more important than before. Leaving the van with a burst of intangibility, Emma was the first out, giving her a moment to take in the surroundings whilst the convoy ground to a halt.
The church was very¡ churchlike, for lack of a better word. The kind that anyone living in any semblance of human civilization has probably walked or driven past at least once in their life. Not very tall, not particularly grandiose, it was just there. Looking deeper, the surroundings were surprisingly clear; there was none of the debris indicative of past battles, nor any other vehicles in the modest parking area, but otherwise, it could¡¯ve fit into any neighbourhood prior to the apocalypse. Emma was already halfway to the door when she heard the scream, followed by gunshots, before the driver came out with a drawn revolver and a grim expression.
¡°The prisoner broke one of his restraints, tried to have a go at me.¡±
He was the only driver to exit, the rest preferring to stay in their vehicles with engines on, ready to move at a moment¡¯s notice. Alongside him were both riflemen; the machine gunner preferring to stay at his post as well. Emma stuck her head inside the open van just long enough to clean the insides of blood and intestines, sticking them in Eden¡¯s Echo before dumping it back on the sidewalk.
¡°Thanks,¡± the driver grunted, heading back to his seat and closing the door behind him.
The two riflemen waited patiently for Emma to return, happy to let her take point on entering the church.
[Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Mindful of traps, Emma activated her magic immunity before reaching for the handle: the door was unlocked, swinging open with only a light touch. A short entryway led straight into the nave, a large, empty space leading up to the altar, faintly lit by windows overhead. Chairs stacked high on either side, packed away in neat columns covered in a thick layer of dust. Once again, Emma was thankful for having transcended mortality; it meant she wasn¡¯t struck down by hacking coughs like the riflemen. Emma kept looking ahead, allowing them to recover with their dignity intact.
¡°With that much dust, I doubt anyone¡¯s been in here for weeks,¡± one of them complained, once he found his voice again.
[I¡¯m inclined to agree.]
¡°They could have a hidden room,¡± Emma noted, recalling the disguised garbage bin the Scavengers had been hiding in at the initial meeting. ¡°A quick sweep of the building, just to make sure.¡±
Emma¡¯s steps were steady, as she crossed the nave, making her way over to the first of two doors in the back, one on either side of the altar. These were locked, unlike the front, but that wasn¡¯t much of an impediment to her. A single kick was enough to force the first door open. It was a storeroom, filled with thick woollen blankets caked in even more dust than the chairs. Emma wanted to sneeze, just looking at them; one of the riflemen behind her wheezed in complaint.
The second door broke just as easily, revealing a storage closet filled with stainless steel buckets, towels and industrial soap.
[Blankets for the elderly in winter, and tools for a charity car wash. Riveting stuff.]
Coming fresh from the mind bending encounters at Blenheim Palace, Emma was underwhelmed to put it mildly, and the crying baby only worsened her mood.
Wait, a crying baby?
Chapter 152: Baby, Baby, Baby, Oh
Chapter 152: Baby, Baby, Baby, Oh
Emma turned around, expecting to see the riflemen from before; maybe one had found a hidden child while she¡¯d been examining the locked rooms? Instead, a skeleton lay sprawled across the carpet, more powder than bones. There was no sign of his clothes, nor the rifle he carried, so Emma was only able to ID him based on approximate location. An infant crawled through the mess, clearly distraught given the volume of his wailing.
Emma stared at it, even pinching herself to check she wasn¡¯t caught in an illusion.
[-10 Anima]
She wasn¡¯t. Next, she did the obvious thing and reached out with Eden¡¯s Echo, intending to put the baby away safely, only to find that it had no effect at all on the crawling child.
[Bucket stored.
Bucket withdrawn.]
The storage item wasn¡¯t broken either, it just wouldn¡¯t affect the baby. By now rather creeped out, Emma decided to not to try picking up the baby herself, and summoned Sir Bearington instead.
Bring the baby to the convoy.
A simple enough order, and one Emma could observe from her position at the back of the church. As such, she got to watch in real time as her summon shrunk with every step, until it resembled a tiny bear cub barely larger than the infant it was sent to retrieve.
[Sir Bearington defeated.]
He fell over and disappeared moments later; on the plus side, Emma could see the new, 10 minute cooldown take effect, but that was a very small silver lining to the whole situation. The Earthbound Immortal was up next, and unlike Sir Bearington, it didn¡¯t have to get close to the source of Emma¡¯s growing headache.
The baby and the skeleton, out the door. Gently.
The ground rumbled beneath the targets, smoothening into a ramp with infant and skeleton at the top, rolling them slowly but inexorably towards the door. The baby grew with every inch traversed, by the time it was halfway to the door, a young teen was aware enough to protest the intrusion. By the time he was thrown out, he was old enough to smoke. Regrettably, this sudden resurgence was not accompanied by a change of clothes, so the unfortunate rifleman ended up giving his colleagues quite the eyeful.
[He got ten years of youth back, I¡¯d call that an even trade.]
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¡°The skeleton is still there though,¡± Emma pointed out: there had been no change to the pile of bones besides its location.
[A bit of fiddling with human age is one thing, revival from true death is considerably more difficult. To be frank, if this distortion were capable of doing the latter, all of Oxfordshire would already be under quarantine. That¡¯s the sort of thing where Paradox needs to intervene.]
Emma paused, considered that, then decided to exit the church posthaste. The remaining rifleman was thankfully already dressed when she reconvened with the convoy, courtesy of a few donations from his peers.
¡°The entire church is cursed,¡± Emma declared, drawing all eyes to her. ¡°Don¡¯t go inside unless you want to die. Hurry out of this town and don¡¯t look back; assume anyone else you encounter is hostile, and shoot to kill.¡±
Sir Bearington was still out of commission, so Emma made do with the Earthbound Immortal. Riding on a floating block of earth was far less comfortable, but it was a suitably impressive exit; one that almost made her forget she was leaving more or less empty handed. Still, it wasn¡¯t all bad; while Emma had hoped to find a clue to the spacetime distortion in the Church, her level up made her a lot more resistant to magic in general.
¡°This time, I¡¯m getting inside that damn palace,¡± Emma swore as she departed the scene.
¡ª
Mr. Fox barked happily, pointing his nose down at the moist patch of earth. Anna snapped her fingers before pointing at the same location, ordering her strongest pet to work. The massive, man-sized badger wasted no time, his paws carving through the ground faster than Mr. Fox could ever dream of accomplishing. Less than five minutes from start to finish, and a big hole had been cleared, opening up into an underground cellar.
¡°Good work,¡± Anna praised, petting the badger as it backed out of the tunnel, allowing her entry into a packed pantry, filled with canned goods, bottled water and pet food galore.
This was the third cache Mr. Fox had found today, his Thief class proving unparalleled for finding juicy targets.
¡°Good work to you too,¡± she cooed, rubbing Mr. Fox behind the ears just how he liked it.
Behind them, the rest of the menagerie milled about, forming a loose perimeter around the block they occupied. Half a dozen wolves, all well accustomed to fighting as a pack and sharing the unnatural intelligence of enlightened animals, even if not to the same degree as Mr. Fox. Together, they represented a formidable fighting force; Anna was strong, Mr. Fox realised, stronger than he¡¯d ever be in direct conflict.
But that was fine, because she didn¡¯t need another fighter; she needed a scout and surveyor, someone who could find what the others could not, and keep them all alive to fight another day.
¡°Sun¡¯s going down,¡± Anna noted. ¡°Alright, fan out and see if there¡¯s anything worth hunting. Stay within a mile of us, I¡¯ll be bedding down in the cellar tonight.¡±
Six howls of affirmation later, the pack went on the prowl.
¡ª
[Oh no.]
Saint paused, her ears prickling as she awaited the words of the ancestor. It was rare for her to sound worried, so Saint knew this was likely the prelude to something big.
[The timetable has changed. Start imbuing the soil around the Potted Hydra with your magic. Don¡¯t waste time hunting rats anymore, Noah will be ordering cuts delivered straight from the butcher. Create servitors if you need to, but make sure that feeding continues every hour of the day.]
Sure enough, the instructions received completely upended prior orders, but Saint knew the ancestor wouldn¡¯t do this without a reason, so she headed to the plant pot and began her work without complaint.
Chapter 153: Clockblocked
Chapter 153: Clockblocked
¡°Did it really take fifteen minutes to reach the Church?¡±
Emma asked, after a mere two minutes atop her floating platform of earth brought her back to the starting point, where she first encountered the Scavengers.
[I can confirm fifteen minutes, and twenty two seconds outbound. Two minutes and seventeen seconds inbound.]
¡°We¡¯re not even moving that fast,¡± Emma protested, watching the world drift by at a leisurely thirty miles an hour. ¡°The convoy should have overtaken us immediately, but they¡¯re nowhere to be seen.¡±
[Best not to think about what¡¯s beyond your control. Focus on the palace.]
¡°Right¡¡±
Emma shook her head, did another check of her inventory, and tried to take Edith¡¯s advice and refocus. As they retraced what was by now a very familiar dirt footpath, she took the time to draft and send a short note to Noah, explaining that Woodstock was best avoided in future. A precaution, in case the convoy never returned to pass on her warning. With that last bit of business taken care of, Emma returned her gaze to the horizon, head held high as she prepared for round three against the palace doors. Of course, it couldn¡¯t be that easy¡
¡°Where¡¯s the palace?¡± Emma groaned, feeling yet another phantom headache as she stared at the empty patch of land before her: no palace, no gardens, just fallow fields with a crater at the centre.
[Blenheim Palace was destroyed in the first week of the apocalypse? Hold on a minute. Switch Null Zone off.]
Emma did so, and the familiar front garden faded back into view.
[Blenheim Palace was untouched by the apocalypse, and remains standing, albeit abandoned, to this day.]
¡°You okay, Edith?¡±
[Yes, but the System is not. I can see activity and reconnaissance logs updating themselves in real-time, retroactively. This is most perplexing.]
Hearing that, Emma couldn¡¯t help but turn Null Zone back on, then off again, then on, then off again, her surroundings flickering with every change.
[0.5 EXP gained for being annoying. Now your status page looks untidy: enjoy!
EXP: 8065.5/10000]
¡°Sorry,¡± Emma apologised immediately, feeling a twinge of agony as she beheld her updated EXP gauge. ¡°I won¡¯t do it again?¡±
[0.5 EXP gained.
EXP: 8066/10000]
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Emma heaved a sigh of relief at sanity being restored, before turning her attention back to the enigma that was Blenheim Palace. She ordered the Earthbound Immortal to bring her within a few steps of the front doors, as she considered the best course of action. After a minute of considering, a familiar, unsettling weight became noticeable, pressing against the edge of Emma¡¯s mind. Turning Null Zone on and off again got rid of it, but after waiting another minute it came right on back.
[Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
This time, Emma turned it on and kept it, allowing Blenheim Palace to fade away, and leaving her in a crater once more.
¡°That was the same presence as before, and whenever I lit a Hallowed Candle, it ate the candle and sent us back to the village.¡± Emma deduced. ¡°The Hallowed Candle is supposed to repel hostile entities, but has no effect on time, so we can assume the transfer is a defensive reaction to being attacked. If we can¡¯t get rid of it, we¡¯ll just have to live with it.¡±
Her decision made, Emma began to backpedal, while ordering the Earthbound Immortal to remain at the door. A little over five metres later, Emma¡¯s summon vanished from sight, but, crucially, remained active.
Open the door.
Emma had a brief moment to wonder if the command had gone through, and then¡
[Earthbound Immortal defeated.]
¡°That confirms it, there¡¯s two instances active, overlapping in the same area. Blenheim Palace, which exists only where there is magic, and the wasteland that exists otherwise. Null Zone keeps me and anything else nearby in the latter, but my summons can venture into the former and still act independently, within the regular rules of summoning.¡±
[According to the System logs, the Earthbound Immortal is currently alive, dead, summoned, inert, recharging and awaiting orders. Wonderful. I¡¯d advise waiting a bit before dropping Null Zone, in case whatever killed your summon is still around.]
¡°How long should I wait? Five minutes? Ten?¡±
[Ninety percent of magical traps disperse in less than ten hours.]
¡°Eleven hours it is then,¡± Emma sighed. ¡°You know, when I agreed to participate in this emergency operation, I wasn¡¯t expecting quite so much standing around.¡±
[Hurry up and wait, soldier. Hurry up and wait.]
¡ª
Some time ago¡
[Irregular System broadcast incoming, by order of Overmind.]
Astrid Ros¨¦n looked up at her notifications, absently wiping her blade clean on the fur of a massive Mammoth Demon that lay dead at her feet.
¡°Overmind?¡± The name was familiar to her, as it was to every child born and raised as part of the magical community, but it wasn¡¯t one Astrid had ever expected to encounter. ¡°I didn¡¯t know she was an Administrator.¡±
[She¡¯s not. She does, however, have elevated broadcast privileges, allowing mass communications to those under her jurisdiction. There are others overseas with similar privileges: the official term for such individuals is Faction Leader.]
¡°I see.¡±
Astrid breathed in, drawing the power of the distant Sun into herself, cleansing her body of poison and fatigue. She exhaled, a rippling wave of light that struck down three lesser demons trying to take advantage of her momentary stillness.
¡°Three down, and a hundred to go,¡± Astrid huffed, feeling the ground tremble beneath the hooves of a vast, incoming horde.
[Reinforcements required at Blenheim Palace. Situation is unknown, proceed with caution. Class A rewards to be distributed to all participants once the crisis concludes.
You are: 75 miles away.]
¡°Class A rewards?¡± Astrid whistled, raising her sword to impale a swarm of bat demons with beams of light; the blade shattered, its duty done. ¡°The highest I ever saw before today was Class C.¡±
[The rewards are justified, given the danger involved.]
¡°Then I won¡¯t waste any more time here,¡± Astrid decided, reaching into her inventory and pulling out an ancient stone ring, placing it upon her finger without hesitation.
[Don''t Be a Stranger activated: Taking on the form and powers of a fallen ancestor.]
From one moment to the next, Astrid vanished and Princess Astaroth returned.
¡°We¡¯ve got a lot of ground to cover, and not much time to do it; but first, let¡¯s take out the trash.¡±
Chapter 154: Deep Time
Chapter 154: Deep Time
Waiting for a prolonged period of time without anything to do was never particularly fun. So instead of doing that, Emma decided to sleep. It wouldn¡¯t have been possible before, when her anima would drain with every passing second of having her abilities active, but now that the trait had no cost, only a toggle, she was confident it would work. She¡¯d left Wolf, Ram and Heart toggled on for extended periods of time, after all, and never suffered any mishaps beyond minor damage to furniture, so this should be no different.
Sleeping in her armour remained an interesting experience; not quite the same as in a body of flesh and blood, but more a deliberate disconnection from the System¡¯s simulated senses, followed by a period of floating in an empty void. Not particularly refreshing or useful, but still more pleasant than staring at a crater for ten hours.
[It¡¯s the only way, unfortunately. Even leaving the area isn¡¯t safe in these circumstances, not when there¡¯s a chance any trap triggered just follows you as soon as Null Zone comes off. Then, you¡¯ll be right back at the start again.]
System messages still display even without sight, Emma noted, before returning to her slumber.
¡ª
[Princess Astaroth - Level 20 Warlock of the Deep]
A powerful upgrade, stemming from a magic item that by all rights Astrid should not have been able to wield at her level. But the System was fair, and those who committed to a path would find shortcuts readily available, if they were willing to pay the price.
Because the original was gone, her class was locked as it was when she was Astrid¡¯s age. No EXP could be earned whilst taking on this form, no further growth was permitted; a static Level 20 simulacrum being the result. The price for access to this strength? Half of all experience Astrid earned, until she reached parity with her distant relative. It wouldn¡¯t take much longer, given the opportunities of the new era; eventually, as she continued to level up, Astrid would outgrow the item. But until then, it remained a potent trump card, covering for weaknesses in her Warrior of Light class: weaknesses such as mass destruction.
As her transformation ended, the nearest demon sought to take advantage, lunging for her now unarmored form with teeth bared. Astrid grabbed the demon by the throat, crushing it with little effort.
¡°A little small, but I suppose you¡¯ll do.¡±
Red runes began to burn across its thrashing form, before she tossed it back into one of its slower peers.
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¡°Flood.¡±
The first demon burst like an overripe melon, splattering the second with putrid black blood. That demon, too, began to swell up at once, its thin runner¡¯s build turning into a balloon in mere seconds, before erupting with even greater force to spread its seed far and wide. With every replication, the effect grew more pronounced, more potent and more widespread. In the first minute, thirty demons died, in the second, three hundred, and the third claimed the rest; victims of the horrifying power that is exponential growth, leaving Astrid as the last woman standing.
[Status condition: Flood resisted.]
¡°It still boggles my mind that this spell exists in the System library. Or that it was available for selection, even then.¡±
[Your namesake paid a steep price to unlock it; this prototype of the spell that made me a God. Nine-tenths of her lifespan in return for the power to bring her dynasty to its knees, toppling Magi far more senior almost overnight.]
¡°Just in time to die in the apocalypse, leaving the regency of Sweden empty,¡± Astrid pointed out, fighting down a spike of indignation that was not truly hers; an echo of the one she emulated.
[An unfortunate end. She had strong backers, and decent odds of crushing her remaining rivals and claiming the crown for herself. It was just bad timing, in the end.]
¡°So it was,¡± Astrid sighed. ¡°So it was.¡±
The bat demons yet remained, having possessed enough wisdom to fly high into the air, thus avoiding the splash damage from her Flood. As the aftershock of the spell faded, they descended once more, eager to try their luck against her.
¡°For mine is the blood of the recessed, kin to all that dwell in the deep places of the world. Gaze upon my radiance, and tremble.¡±
[Curse of Kyrene activated.]
She was the centre of attention in that moment, as the taunt component of the curse activated. In the next, petrified stone bats began to rain from the heavens.
¡ª
¡°Young master! Young master!¡±
¡°Don¡¯t call me that, I¡¯m no cultivator.¡± Marius Kimaris rebuked his new assistant with words alone; ordinarily, a slap would have warranted too, but he was still cursed, and this level of affront did not quite merit death.
¡°My apologies,¡± the man cleared his throat, pausing to bow a respectful distance away from him. ¡°I bring news from the investigators.¡±
¡°Out with it then,¡± Marius waved impatiently; wishing his former assistant were still around.
Unfortunately, an incautious touch had placed him within the curse, so he¡¯d be unavailable until that was fixed; yet another motive for a quick resolution.
¡°Our diviners have detected the use of System-based curse magic, originating in the south of Warwickshire. The mana signature corresponds to one Princess Astaroth, the final aspirant to complete the trial of the practitioner prior to the terminus.¡±
¡°Princess Astaroth?¡± Here, Marius had to admit to some confusion. ¡°What¡¯s she doing here? Last I heard, she was trying to consolidate power back home. I assumed she¡¯d died along with the rest of the capitol.¡±
¡°This remains unclear, master Kimaris. Our men have her under reconnaissance, but have taken no further action pending your instructions.¡±
¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± Marius groaned. ¡°Bring her here, so I can get this bloody curse off of me! Weeks of non-stop penis jokes from both my brothers, weeks! I can only take so much.¡±
¡°Yes, master Kimaris. The retrieval squad shall be deployed by nightfall.¡±
Chapter 155: You Court Death!
Chapter 155: You Court Death!
[You should be safe now.]
Emma stood up slowly, brushing stray dirt off of her back in the process. The ground was no more comfortable now than in campsites of her childhood, but at least her new body prevented any soreness on waking up. She called Epitaph into her hand, seeing no reason not to, now that the associated cost was gone, and last but not least reached for her traits.
[Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: ON)
Ephemera (Toggle: OFF)
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF)]
At the third flip of a switch, the empty crater faded from view, returning Emma to the entrance of Blenheim Palace.
[1 EXP gained.
1 EXP lost.
3 EXP gained.
3 EXP lost.
2 EXP gained.
2 EXP lost.
You have 99+ unread notifications.]
¡°Could you not?¡± Emma groused, quickly dismissing the sudden flood of notifications and banishing it to the corner of her sight.
[This is not ideal, the System is struggling to reconcile multiple timelines currently in play. Try going inside, the instability should be at it¡¯s worst here, at the boundary between it and realspace.]
Emma needed no further prompting, stepping forward and through the innocuous wooden gateway that had denied her for so long. Absently, she noted a faint patch of dirt on the ground, the only hint of what happened to the Earthbound Immortal upon opening the door. The inside was much as Emma had expected: luxury carpets, golden furniture and renaissance era artwork dominating the antechamber.
Far less welcome was the doorway disappearing at soon as Emma stepped through, leaving no way out that she could see.
[You have entered a Dungeon: The End Times.
Return has been disabled.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 23 hours, 11 minutes.
Anyone inside will be erased upon collapse.
Admin connection lost, reverting to autopilot.]
¡°Come again?¡± Emma blinked. ¡°Edith, this is a bad time to joke around.¡±
The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
There was no reply.
¡°Are you still mad I messed around with Null Zone?¡± She tried again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 23 hours, 10 minutes]
¡°It¡¯s probably real then,¡± Emma decided. ¡°Wonderful.¡±
No advice from the System, only one corridor available and with no way back, Emma didn¡¯t exactly have many options, so she could only embrace the inevitable and advance into the unknown. Despite the difficulties getting inside, there were surprisingly no attacks as she wandered down the hall, past golden desk lamps worth more than the average family income pre-apocalypse. After a few of these, Emma succumbed to greed and tried to steal one.
[3RR0R stored.]
The lamp she¡¯d targeted was gone, but there was nothing inside Eden¡¯s Echo for her efforts.
¡°At least the storage item still works, sort of.¡±
[Shovel withdrawn.]
Emma confirmed that withdrawal worked as well with the shovel, before smashing the next lamp she saw to pieces. It didn¡¯t give her any EXP, but it felt good. The corridor continued, unending and unchanging save for the portraits. Those were no longer quite so civil, making rude gestures as Emma continued ever onward. Smashing them didn¡¯t help, either, as the occupants jumped to adjacent frames and continued their jeering.
¡°Is this some bizarre form of hazing?¡± Emma asked aloud.
Nobody answered.
¡ª
1247
Edith Knight woke up to find herself restrained and hanging from her wrists, a spear pierced through her heart and runes of binding carved along the length of her arms and legs. A thin dressing gown was all that protected her modesty, swaying leisurely in the wind. Altogether, this wasn¡¯t too unusual, though it had been quite some time since anyone dared to try and kidnap her. Far stranger was the scenery, featuring a wall that extended far into the horizon, one that she¡¯d seen through many eyes over the years, and even from space, more than a millennium in the future.
¡°How odd,¡± Edith murmured, drawing the attention of her guards, no less than eight men surrounding her, spears levelled at her neck. ¡°I don¡¯t recall offending any of the sects recently. If you wanted to invite me to China, a written invitation would have sufficed. The view is quite lovely.¡±
¡°You don¡¯t recall?¡± The guard closest to her turned wrathful, his face red beneath the setting sun. ¡°The Sectmaster¡¯s youngest son visited your island as an honoured guest, his safety guaranteed by sacred rites of hospitality. So why did he depart with both arms shattered beyond repair, and his mind so fractured that he fell to a heart demon decades later, when the time came to shatter his core? Not for millennia has a young master of the Azure Heavens Sect disgraced himself so, to fail to reach Nascent Soul. You ripped the face from our sect, and still, you claim not to recall?¡±
¡°Does your Sectmaster concern himself with the lives of every disciple?¡± Edith retorted. ¡°By your own telling, his son was Core Formation at most when he visited my Empire. Why would I care if he broke some laws and got himself paddled?¡±
That was enough to make one of the guards break, lunging forward and spearing Edith through the throat before his fellows could restrain him.
¡°How undisciplined,¡± Edith spoke through the guard¡¯s mouth, moments later, as her former body withered away to nothing. ¡°A few harsh words is enough to prompt the murder of a valuable prisoner, one smuggled all the way from England? I¡¯m starting to see why your tribulations fail so often.¡±
¡°Impossible,¡± the remaining guards stepped back, turning their spears on their former comrade in horror. ¡°We carved our strongest formations into your flesh. You can¡¯t cast magic. We made sure of it!¡±.
¡°No external magic,¡± Edith sighed, even as her stolen body melted like wax, features reforming to those more familiar to her. ¡°But qi exists in every being, so long as they live. You, of all people, should know this. A life taken in anger has implications for the soul; using that moment as a bridge for possession was trivial, given the physical contact between us. But that¡¯s enough out of me; my lessons are highly sought after, and very expensive. None of you have the wealth to cover my standard fee, so I suppose I¡¯ll have to settle for your lives instead."
¡ª
After far too much walking for her liking, Emma finally reached another door, plain, black and labelled for her convenience.
¡°Heavenly Tribulation.¡±
Emma didn¡¯t much like the sound of that, but the dungeon wasn¡¯t going to clear itself, so in she went.
Chapter 156: Toads Seeking Swan Flesh
Chapter 156: Toads Seeking Swan Flesh
Emma stepped through the doorway and emerged in hell. The walls and ceiling were of unfamiliar design, plain white with oriental script lining the support columns distributed equidistant on every side. They were also painted liberally in blood, while mad things that might have once been men writhed on the floor, screaming and chittering in an unfamiliar tongue. That was all they could do, bereft as they were of arms, legs or sanity and covered in wounds that wept boiling black blood, tortured faces forming momentarily in the steam wafting from their bodies.
[Toads Seeking Swan Flesh - Level 1]
¡°What the hell?¡±
Emma approached the crawling torsos slowly, wary of a trap; when nothing happened, she repeated her earlier destruction of the lamp and brought her shovel down on the nearest head.
[5 EXP gained.]
¡°Every little helps,¡± Emma grunted, going around the room doing a bit of mercy killing.
[30 EXP gained.]
The room now empty, she took a moment to glance out the window; it might have been a beautiful sight, were it not for the myriad fires that burned all the way to the horizon, leaving naught but a vista of smoke and ash. Suddenly reminded of the Blackflame Elemental that erupted back home, Emma shuddered and proceeded to the next room.
This room contained nobody at all, to Emma¡¯s disappointment, though upturned chairs and shattered tea cups marked the passing of some disagreement turned violent. A single cup of tea remained upright, on a stool by the corner. Emma decided to try it, half-expecting to trigger a secret encounter. No such thing happened, alas, though the tea was excellent: smooth and mildly fruity to taste.
¡°The first room had a few nobodies, and the second room was empty. The next room will probably be a boss encounter,¡± Emma guessed, sliding open the thin partition that hid the next chamber from view.
¡°It¡¯s not possible. It¡¯s not possible. It¡¯s not possible!¡±
¡°Did I come at a bad time?¡± Emma quipped, sticking her head into what looked like a boxing ring, albeit with far more elaborate decorations than any pay-per-view match she¡¯d ever seen.
¡°It¡¯s not right. It can¡¯t be. The Sectmaster wouldn¡¯t lie to me. He wouldn¡¯t!¡±
The unhinged ranting came from a man in the corner of the ring: a big, scarred man whose body told the tales of a lifetime of battle. He might have been intimidating, even, were he not curled up in a foetal position, muttering to himself.
[Core Disciple - Level 20 Core Formation
Status: Confusion]
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He didn¡¯t even look up at Emma¡¯s entry, continuing to sit and ramble, staring at the ceiling all the while.
[Shovel stored.]
Emma, on her part, summoned Epitaph in bow form, and drew her first arrow free of charge.
¡°This feels like maybe two thirds as high as I could push it in the past,¡± she noted, gauging the arrow in her grasp, before firing it point blank into her opponent¡¯s skull, because Emma didn¡¯t care about playing fair, and was always happy to take first blood.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)
Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
The moment her arrow flew, Emma reactivated both her defences; in doing so, she escaped both the backlash of her arrow exploding in a confined space, and the fist to the face that marked her foe¡¯s retaliation.
¡°What foul sorcery is this?¡± The Disciple roared, as his arm flew through Emma¡¯s head to no avail.
His robes were gone above the waist, his body a patchwork of bleeding wounds, and his face an expression of utter fury.
Gobble him up.
The Leech King made his first appearance in quite some time, summoned around and over the cultivator to swallow him whole.
[Ephemera (Toggle: OFF)]
In well-practised fashion, Emma returned to the physical plane, switched Epitaph to sword form, and began to stab through her summon at the enemy trapped inside. Despite his state and being caught by surprise, the Core Disciple fought back valiantly, punching holes through the Leech King¡¯s thick membrane with every swing of his fist. It was enough to keep Emma at a distance, using Epitaph¡¯s superior reach to inflict thin stab wounds on the enemy while staying safe; none of them did much damage individually, but that was fine by her. She was fishing for a proc, and even if the odds were low to begin with, try enough times and sooner or later she¡¯d come out on top.
[Wolf, Ram and Heart activates, inflicting Instant Death.
Core Disciple slain!
400 EXP gained.]
¡°Heavens take me!¡±
[The Leech King defeated.]
Before Emma could celebrate her win, a blinding flash of light erupted from her fallen foe, reducing the Leech King to a dried out husk. Emma herself remained unaffected, thanks to Null Zone, but it did lock another one of her summons for ten minutes.
¡°Should¡¯ve recalled,¡± Emma chastised herself, promising to keep an ear out for any more dialogue that hinted at a suicide attack.
Still, despite the ending, she got the job done, as reflected by a portal appearing at the end of the arena.
¡°Onward and upward, I guess.¡±
¡ª
1247
¡°This is impossible,¡± Elder Wang of the Artefact Pavilion rasped, every word bubbling faintly from his torn throat. ¡°What are you?¡±
Around him, two dozen suits of living armour lay in pieces, many with their claws still intertwined: all of them victims of the madness that turned them on one another to leave no survivors.
¡°Someone you should have left well alone,¡± Edith laughed. ¡°Did it not seem strange to your outriders, that I was entirely unprotected? Was there no paranoia, when you compared the singularity and palace of my peers, contrasted against my humble cottage? Paradox cares nothing for politics, and Overmind does her best work from a posture of aggression. I am by far the best equipped to fight from a position of supposed disadvantage, and so I make myself the path of least resistance, the obvious target. It works every time.¡±
¡°The alliance of the righteous will avenge us!¡± Elder Wang gasped, already struggling to form words as his lifeblood poured.
¡°The Alliance signed treaties of non-aggression with the Empire. Be glad I¡¯m killing you here and now, because at least your death will be swift. The Son of Heaven would do far worse to an oathbreaker.¡±
Elder Wang¡¯s eyes closed, and his expression changed; his fear of death at last reconciled with acceptance, the last dregs of his vitality burned to play one final card.
¡°An adequate test for my descendant,¡± Edith assessed, inclining her head a fraction to the dead Elder.
She laid him down gently, next to his final and strongest creation, both of them sealed in a bubble of frozen time to await the next to breach the Artefact Pavilion.
Chapter 157: Thousand Poxes
Chapter 157: Thousand Poxes
Emma emerged from the portal into a roomful of junk, for a lack of a better word. The overall decor hadn¡¯t changed, which made it all the more strange to see the wreckage of fine, handmade clockwork scattered across the floor amidst overturned tables and broken tools.
[Tool Spirit - Level 1]
Half a dozen green, nearly transparent spiders the size of her hand crawled amidst the wreckage, pulling individual gears free and taking them to parts unknown with remarkable dexterity. Said dexterity extended to dodging, as they ducked and weaved between Emma¡¯s halfhearted stabbing, managing to keep hold of their lives and trophies alike.
[Shovel withdrawn.]
Emma gave up on precision at that point, returning to the broader profile of the shovel to smash the nearest spider to bits.
[5 EXP gained.]
The crunch of its carapace was most satisfying: the acidic goo that clung to and melted her shovel, less so. Tossing the handle aside, Emma examined the room in detail, and upon finding it a bit too small for her bow, decided to pull out a trophy of her own for some impromptu target practice.
[Browning Hi-Power (13/13) withdrawn.]
To be clear, Emma had never fired a gun before, and her System-given knowledge of weaponry didn¡¯t quite extend into 20th century equipment. As such, her accuracy left a lot to be desired, and it took her entire clip to dispatch the remaining pests, a rather poor hit ratio given the entire room was less than five square metres all around.
[25 EXP gained.
Browning Hi-Power (0/13) stored.
Admin connection restored!
Alright, I''ve done a patch job. It''s not as good as what Paradox can manage, but we should be back to business as usual.]
On the bright side, Edith was back.
¡°Guns don¡¯t sound nearly that loud on TV,¡± Emma complained, when the ringing in her non-existent ears persisted long after the final round was fired. ¡°How do people not go deaf doing that every day?¡±
[They do. Thankfully, magic can solve many of the inconveniences in life, like tinnitus.]
The room now clear of enemies, Emma headed for the next door, ignoring the piles of scrap she stepped past on the way through.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)]
One of the traps in the walls remained active, sending a row of spears harmlessly through Emma¡¯s torso.
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¡°Neat,¡± Emma turned back, watching as the spears receded into what she now noticed as hidden holes on the sides of the wall. ¡°I didn¡¯t realise those were actually used in real life.¡±
[I¡¯m not sure why they¡¯re here. Even a Qi Condensation disciple would be able to react with plenty of time. Personally, I think they¡¯re just here to add to the ambience.]
¡°So this really is a cultivation scenario. I wondered, after seeing Heavenly Tribulation on the door, so it¡¯s nice to have that confirmed.¡±
Seeing no more reason to linger, Emma walked into the open doorway.
[-5 Anima
Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Now on her second attempt with magical protection enabled, Emma no longer faceplanted into an invisible barrier. This second room was markedly different: a monolith of corrugated iron panels and metallic grilles covering the floor. Piles of scrap taller than Emma littered the edge of a large circular arena, with the gate she entered through vanishing immediately after. Looking up, she couldn¡¯t see a ceiling, only a complicated collection of pipes: most of them inactive, but a few belched small puffs of smoke, or dripped with oil.
Recognising another boss fight when she saw one, Emma checked her status page: Sir Bearington was already back off of cooldown, so she called the bear and planted him on the edge. Antipode was another option, but Emma was reluctant to call massive balls of fire into her present environment, so one summon was enough for the time being.
¡°Welcome, prospects, to the trial of iron! Boys enter this room, and emerge as men, or not at all. Above all, to reach for the heavens is to Endure, today, you learn this truth.¡±
Noxious green smoke began to emerge from the formerly inactive pipes, quickly descending in a tide that filled the entire room. Ensconced within her twin layered defence, Emma felt nothing at all.
¡°A resilient soul, to remain so unaffected by the Thousand Poxes. That¡¯s all well and good, but you¡¯re not permitted to shoulder the burdens of two prospects. Every man must face heaven alone, in the end.¡±
¡°Excuse me?¡± Emma huffed, looking around and failing to find anyone else in the room. ¡°I think this proctor is defective.¡±
¡°Your physique is outstanding. You are excused from further testing. As for your cowardly friend? Front and centre!¡±
The world blurred, and Emma had the distinct desire to vomit, as she felt her clothes begin to dissolve under the toxic deluge.
Wait, clothes?
Looking down, Emma found herself in the homunculus, a few faint scraps of pink all that remained of her leotard. The smoke clung to her body, and her arms and legs were already beginning to fray, the top layer of skin slowly boiling away. Despite that, there was a surprising lack of pain; it felt more like a steady string of mosquito bites rather than the agony Emma expected.
[This counts as burning.]
Emma brought up a rarely used status page at that prompt, quickly discerning the reason it was given.
[Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.]
Indeed, even this supposedly non-combat form had certain resistances available. Breath control was also coming in handy, allowing Emma to weather the storm without needing to inhale and risk losing control of her faculties. Unfortunately, this didn¡¯t also come with a way to fight back.
[British Army Knife withdrawn.]
A few exploratory stabs into the smog did nothing; disappointingly, her knife lasted mere moments before dissolving into a faint sludge.
[This is a test of endurance, not who can afford the fanciest talismans. The damage to equipment is extreme, whereas the injury to the individual is within mortal limits. The sect sought to test potential disciples, after all, not murder them.]
Good to know, Emma deadpanned, before another thought struck her.
[Browning Hi-Power (0/13) withdrawn.]
Her empty gun was swiftly tossed to the side and dissolved in turn; Emma hadn¡¯t given it much thought before, but the piece belonged to a man she¡¯d killed in Oxford, so it was best not keep showing it.
I¡¯ll get another if I need it; some practice too, Emma decided, before settling in to wait until this test ran its course.
Chapter 158: I Shall Seal The Heavens
Chapter 158: I Shall Seal The Heavens
After a solid five minutes, the smoke finally cleared, vanishing into the ventilation ducts in the floor below.
[For a feat of superhuman endurance, 10 EXP gained.]
Emma couldn¡¯t help but feel that this particular prompt was a bit sarcastic, but she couldn¡¯t complain, not when the 10 EXP went to the homunculus and its Chandler class, which was still low enough that it actually counted for a decent amount.
The next door appeared, and right before it, a man wearing an ancient scholar¡¯s dress.
[Fragment of Will - Level 5]
¡°You have done well, to endure the Thousand Poxes. But can you defeat me now as you are, wounded, unclad and alone?¡±
The Fragment of Will bowed, hands clasped, a gesture of respect it likely expected Emma to return.
[10 EXP gained.]
Emma, having realised that storage items weren¡¯t actually disabled, switched back to her armoured form and crushed the Fragment¡¯s head between her hands like a grape. Idly, she noted that Sir Bearington had vanished at some point, likely when she was forced into the homunculus. Another 10 EXP didn¡¯t count for much at Level 15, but Emma was glad just to be done with the room: she was on a timer, after all.
¡ª
1247
¡°What have you done?¡± Sectmaster Horizon roared, his temper erupted as consciousness returned, and his spiritual sense beheld the full extent of the damage to his Sect.
His quarters imploded, the entire section of the main compound reserved for his use crushed into dust and even less than that, exposing him to the heavens that were his Sect¡¯s namesake. His shock and anger were understandable, given that he¡¯d entered closed door cultivation mere weeks ago, a pittance of time for a Nascent Soul, only to be awakened by the emergency wards to witness a massacre.
¡°Admittedly, this was a cruelty,¡± Edith acknowledged, sitting atop the piled corpses of the Sectmaster¡¯s sworn guards, looking not a single bit remorseful. ¡°I could have killed you in your repose, left your final memories of your Sect intact, peaceful and well. But then, your kidnappers woke me up, chained in a dungeon instead of at home in my bed. That was quite the surprise to me, so I simply had to reciprocate.¡±
¡°Kidnappers?¡± Now, a hint of confusion joined the Sectmaster¡¯s anger. ¡°I ordered no kidnapping in the past thirty moons, what trickery is this?¡±
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¡°No?¡± Edith questioned, an expression of mock surprise on her face. ¡°So you mean to say, you didn¡¯t give orders to kidnap a founder of the Eternal Britannian Empire, for the purpose of interrogation, torture and execution to repay an old grudge?¡±
At that, Sectmaster Horizon purpled, examining Edith with a discerning eye that bore just a hint of realisation amidst growing horror.
¡°You didn¡¯t recognise me until now,¡± Edith realised, reading the lines of his face in return. ¡°You¡¯re actually telling the truth? How unfortunate, for you, that is.¡±
¡°I ordered messengers sent to Britannia. Messengers ordered to present demands for compensation, for the maiming of my child within the island¡¯s borders and your Empire¡¯s hospitality. Messengers who offended their superiors, condemned to a mission that would end in their death, so that I could express my outrage at the Heavenly Court and bring the Empire to the negotiating table to claim our rightful due. Never, at any point, did I want this!¡±
Sectmaster Horizon¡¯s diatribe ended in a scream, as black light erupted from him in every direction. What was once a majestic courtyard was uprooted in an instant, leaving blackened dirt packed flat by two hundred times Earth¡¯s gravity, and not a single soul left alive save the cause.
¡°Now, that¡¯s unfortunate,¡± his eyes widened as Edith spoke, her characteristically impish chirp of a voice coming from his throat.
Forming his hand into a claw, Sectmaster Horizon tore his own throat out without hesitation, staunching the bleeding with an internal application of qi. A minor wound, as one at his realm did not need to breathe.
Pointless. I am the voice that whispers of power. The devil upon your shoulder, the book of forbidden lore in your sleeve. I am the will opposing, and I have worn a thousand faces, yours least of all.
Edith mocked him all the same, her voice undeterred, now audible only within the recesses of his mind. Reeling, the Sectmaster closed his eyes, retreating into his final defence, into the secondary existence that gave his realm its name: his nascent soul, nearly three quarters grown. Just another century or two, and he¡¯d have had the chance to see it bloom, to attempt the first step into Spirit Severing.
We all wish for a little more time, at the end.
All to no avail; the voice was there, never to be denied.
As I said, this was an unfortunate end for you. Because while you weren¡¯t the one to do it, a kidnapping attempt was ordered. Which means that someone was able to suborn your men, feign your authority, and use your resources to arrange a situation that might well have led to war between East and West. Not an act of malice, on your behalf, but a sign of such utter negligence and incompetence that your life and sect were forfeit all the same. If not at my hand, then by the will of the Emperor, not long from now.
Sectmaster Horizon, driven to his wit¡¯s end by repeated hammer blows on his psyche, forcibly worked his heart aperture, giving it his all in a final desperate attempt at regaining a measure of control over his fate. From within his nascent soul, he felt a spark ignite, reaching up into the sky to call down a Tribulation. Facing Spirit Severing at his strength, the Sectmaster knew his life was forfeit, but hopefully, at least, he would not die alone.
I remember when I faced my own Spirit Severing, in fair Amarna. The old priest called it the Death of Mastery, or the Obliteration of the Self. Your version is more accurate, I think. I¡¯ll seal ten, no, fifteen percent, as a parting gift for Emma. The rest, I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll have to take. Goodbye, Sectmaster.
Tribulation lightning fell, and a sect died.
Chapter 159: Shift Into Turbo
Chapter 159: Shift Into Turbo
[Time is accelerating, please stand by.
All cooldowns have been reset.]
¡°The third encounter is to be the hardest, yet again,¡± Emma guessed, as a notification arrived the moment she set foot in the next room.
This one was completely bare of decorations, a simple cylinder surrounded on all sides by simple stone walls. These walls were bare, save for a single column, where careful carvings produced a chain of long, flowery script from top to bottom. The room was otherwise empty, with neither enemy nor proctor to greet her. Taking the heavy handed hint in stride, Emma began to read from the wall.
¡°If it must be named, let its name be Great. Great and kind, great and terrible, remembered from antiquity until the stars go out. This is The Way: the immensity of heaven, the solidity of earth, and the tenacity of mankind to bridge the gap.¡±
Emma paused, as the next line reverted to the first, repeating the same stanza again and again until it cut off mid sentence against the floor, as space for writing ran out.
¡°It¡¯s very¡ inspirational?¡±
[The text is old, stemming from the writings of Li Er, if I¡¯m not mistaken. The System does its best, but translation is a delicate art, and certain nuances are inevitably lost when the recipient is not themselves a native speaker.
Time is accelerating.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 21 hours, 21 minutes
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 21 hours, 20 minutes
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 21 hours, 19 minutes..]
¡°Shit.¡±
Feeling the urgency more than ever, Emma looked around the room with renewed fervour, looking for a hint to what had to be a puzzle room of some sort. Nothing changed, neither hide nor hair of anyone coming to greet her. All the while, the clock ticked down, a minute gone with every passing second. Faced with a situation with unknown parameters she couldn¡¯t begin to guess at, Emma defaulted to doing what she was best at: breaking things.
Calling Epitaph to her hand, she began by hacking and slashin at the nearest wall, seeking a hidden exit. Her blade bounced off every time, doing no damage at all despite her best efforts and considerable strength. This remained true as she circled the room, until at last she reached the wall with the carvings. The moment Emma scratched through her first Chinese character, Emma died.
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[50,000 Anima lost.
One With Everything activates, leaving you at 1 Anima!]
Emma slammed against the far wall, courtesy of an immense hand that had appeared out of nowhere to give her the mother of all slaps, before retreating back into the wall, or rather, what the rest of the wall had been built around.
[Funerary Tablet (Spirit Severing) - Level 80]
¡°I didn¡¯t even see it move,¡± Emma gaped as she slowly slid down the wall, leaving a faint imprint as she landed, as she watched the faint cut she¡¯d managed seal itself, leaving the tablet pristine once more.
[Spirit Severing is the highest realm of cultivators in the modern age. Anything above that could not be sustained by the mana available: in an era of drought, those in higher realms were forced to either ascend or starve. Even Spirit Severing didn¡¯t have it easy; the majority at this rank have spent long centuries asleep, and will only now start to wake back up in this new era of abundance.]
¡°So this is the resting place of a powerful dead cultivator?¡±
[Stronger than any of his descendants, much to his chagrin.]
That answer wasn¡¯t too helpful, and as Emma considered her options, she realised there was no way she could overcome such an opponent. Brute force, clearly, was not the answer.
¡°Wait.¡±
Emma glanced down, tracing the faint impression beneath her.
¡°The walls resist damage, the tablet fights back, but the floor did neither.¡±
Earthbound Immortal, excavate.
By Emma¡¯s command, her summoned elemental took possession on the earth beneath them and pulled, taking all of it with him to form a body taller than herself. Not too big, as the room was only two feet deeper after the fact, so there wasn¡¯t that much dirt to work with. None of it looked any different from further up, but Emma didn¡¯t care, her eyes immediately turning to the funerary tablet. Measuring the remaining distance from the end of the writing to the floor, she decided that, yes, there was exactly enough room to finish the final stanza, if the correct size and script was maintained.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 19 hours, 05 minutes]
By now, One With Everything was back off cooldown, courtesy of the accelerated flow of time, so Emma had her safety net back even if her deduction proved wrong. Heading back before the Funerary Tablet, and careful not to touch what was already there, Emma laid flat on her belly for a better view and leverage. From there, she lightly pierced the newly revealed stretch of wall with Epitaph¡¯s tip, and began to carve.
It was slow, careful work, Emma frequently pausing to look at the existing characters further up, trying to keep as close to the design as possible. She knew parity wasn¡¯t realistic; being neither a trained stonemason nor equipped with the tools to make it so, but Emma still tried her best to keep to the theme. Thankfully, no further attacks materialised as she worked, and as the eighth and final line took form, ending less than a millimetre above the new floor level, every character lit up in heavenly blue, and caved in on itself.
[200 EXP gained for passing a trial of wits.
Time resumes its normal flow.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 13 hours, 17 minutes.]
Where once was a stretch of solid wall, a narrow passageway appeared, through which Emma could see two figures. One, an old man dressed in scholar¡¯s robes, lying dead on the floor. The other? A massive ball of liquid metal, pulsating in tune with an unknown heartbeat.
[Heavenly Jade Mirror - Level ???]
Chapter 160: Mirror Match
Chapter 160: Mirror Match
[Heavenly Jade Mirror - Level ???]
Emma stared at the pulsating chrome sphere suspiciously, ready to take defensive action at a moment¡¯s notice. It didn¡¯t respond to her presence, at least not in any way she could see.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 13 hours, 15 minutes.]
As always, with the timer involved, the onus for action lay on her. Wary of her opponent¡¯s unknown level, Emma decided to open with her strongest ability: given how time had behaved thus far, she figured it might come back a lot sooner than the 12 hours it said on the description.
[Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
From the safety of her magic immunity, Emma summoned the Angel of Extinction, positioning it right in front of the sphere to start its twelve second countdown. She wasn¡¯t sure exactly what counted as line of sight for something like that, but she was ready to cry foul if the boss couldn¡¯t even see something half an inch away. Of course, that was when it finally decided to react.
A thin, blue barrier now shrouded it, barely visible if Emma squinted. It didn¡¯t look like anything she could do, but unfortunately, Emma had a good guess what it did, between the timing and the fact that she could no longer see its name tag at all.
[Null Zone (Toggle: OFF])
The barrier faded alongside Emma¡¯s own defence, leaving them both exposed to the incoming hit. Still a good trade, in her opinion, as she was guaranteed to survive.
[One With Everything activates!
Anima: 1/500
Combat initiated!
Field Effect: All For One applied. Combatant numbers must be equal!]
Most of the sphere¡¯s mass turned black, blowing away in wisps of acrid smoke. Where once it towered over Emma herself, now there remained only a silver pebble, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand.
¡°I think I understand why it''s called the Heavenly Jade Mirror,¡± Emma groaned, turning to her inventory as she searched for a way to kill something that would copy her every action, and possessed the same abilities, both active and passive.
[I hate enchanted mirrors. Once, I had a suitor present me one as a gift, claiming the mirror would show me the fairest maiden in all the land. When I got close to take a look, my reflection reached out and twisted my nose. It laughed at me too, the bitch; modelled off of my own personality with a pinch of added mischief. Admittedly, it was funny: I still turned the man into a frog and fed him to the ducks on my estate, though. Appearances had to be kept, and a blatant insult at court couldn¡¯t be borne. Only later did I learn that he¡¯d already offended Overmind¡¯s niece, and was given the delivery job as his execution. She always did love to foist her work off on me; I got her back in the end though, a few years later...]
Emma frowned, turning the anecdote around in her head. Edith¡¯s rambling was amusing, but bore little relevance to the situation at hand: at least, so it appeared. Her ancestor only spoke when the mood struck her, and while the subject matter veered wildly at times, none of it was ever truly idle chatter. She was missing something here, and she knew it. In the time Emma spent considering her options, the sphere had regenerated to the size of her head, in tandem with Emma¡¯s own passive regeneration. Walking up to it, Emma gave the ball a strong, open handed slap.
[-50 Anima
Anima 150/500]
It shrank again, now the size of an orange.
[Null Zone (Toggle: ON)
-50 Anima
Anima 100/500]
Trying again while under protection from magic rendered the same result, shrinking it still further to perhaps the size of a plum.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)]
Now, it was a ghostly plum, a pale blue verging on white.
[-50 Anima
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Anima 50/500]
¡°Goddamnit.¡±
Emma stared balefully at the grape-sized enemy, unsure how to proceed from here. She needed to proceed and clear the dungeon before everything collapsed on her, quite literally. To do so, the sphere needed to get out of the way, by a method that didn¡¯t also result in her own death, something she would rather avoid for obvious reasons. She didn¡¯t have anything that could manage a non-lethal kill, as paradoxical as the concept sounded, and the ongoing field effect meant that her summons were inaccessible to boot. Unless¡
¡°No way does that work. Right?¡±
Emma¡¯s eyes had drifted down to the end of the status page, past her combat form entirely to land on her recently acquired Chandler class. For the first time in live combat, Emma switched out of her armoured form to inhabit the homunculus. This went on, until the sphere had recovered mostly to its original size, and then she stuck a hand into the ball, which had recovered enough mass to resemble a grapefruit, finding the insides pleasantly warm but not hot enough to hurt.
[-10 HP]
She scooped out a palmful of silver liquid, feeling a thin cut open up along her bare arm, leading to a negligible amount of bleeding. So far, so good. Placing her hand back into the sphere, Emma smiled.
¡°It¡¯s pretty clear that both of us are linked, and if one dies, so will the other. But I have two bodies, and you only have one. I¡¯d lose the homunculus, which would be annoying, but it can be replaced. Your life cannot, so let¡¯s compromise. Disable the mirror effect, let me kill you, and I¡¯ll take you with me. Not exactly as you are now, but part of you will endure.¡±
The sphere did not speak, but Emma waited patiently all the same for an answer, returning to her armoured form in the meanwhile. The ball began to undulate, slowly at first, but building up steam until it was shaking so violently Emma braced for an attack. Then, as suddenly as the outburst had begun, it stilled.
[Field Effect: All For One disabled]
That was an answer, as much any words would be.
¡ª
Practitioner Emma Knight
True Form: Level 15 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 500
-
EXP: 8831/10000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows of ambient anima.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when defeated. Captured:
-
The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, inflicting Instant Death to anyone who saw it.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: OFF): Attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
Ephemera (Toggle: OFF): Become intangible.
-
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF): All incoming magic fails.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - EXP gains doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
50 Thrones
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms.
-
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood.
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Reward: A powerful ally from the Age of Myth, Saint¡¯s Divine Item
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Vae Victis
-
Objective: Deactivate the gateway beneath Blenheim Palace before it explodes.
-
Rewards: 25,000 Thrones, Commendation (Order of the Empire, First Class), Season Ticket (The Ghost Train), Residence Permit (Avalon)
-
Penalty for Failure: Death
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 5 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 810/850
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
-
Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
-
Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
Chapter 161: 2 Become 1
Chapter 161: 2 Become 1
The Heavenly Jade Mirror changed its shape, shifting for the first time into something other than spherical. An exact copy of Emma¡¯s armour greeted her, minus the limitations in colour palette that was no fault of its own. The copy knelt, hands across its knees, and bared its neck to her: a clear and unquestionable gesture of submission, used by knights since antiquity in the presence of their sovereign. Emma called Epitaph to her hand, happy to oblige in a spot of theatre. Pressing her blade down against her copycat¡¯s shoulder, all it took was a quick flick of the wrist to take its head off at the neck.
[500 EXP gained for defeating the Heavenly Jade Mirror.
500 EXP gained for convincing a copy of yourself to give up its life. That¡¯s messed up.
Soul capture successful!
Duplicate added to No Pal of Mine.
Your Sacrifice (1 oz) is stored.
You may use Your Sacrifice in the creation of a single candle.
The result will be powerful, unexpected, and enduring.
Proceed with caution.]
¡°That¡¯s messed up,¡± Emma echoed, deciding then and there to leave that particular item in her inventory for the time being.
The duplicate had been in line with her expectations, given Edith¡¯s earlier speech about her reflection copying her own mannerisms and personality. Receiving unique loot for her Chandler class was not: sure, she¡¯d used that body out briefly to lay down the facts of life, but it hadn¡¯t participated in combat beyond that.
[It was a powerful creation, possessing nearly limitless potential that scaled with the threat of its opponent. Not for long, without a sufficient power source, but it could have stalled even me for a few minutes, in life. Quite frankly, the only reason a stronger sect didn¡¯t seize this from the Azure Horizon Sect, was their reluctance to deploy it against anything short of an existential threat. That was their downfall, in the end. Too many safeguards, too many requirements for activation. The Pavilion Master died before he could release it on that fateful night, as a consequence, I don¡¯t believe it ever saw battle before today.]
¡°What a waste,¡± Emma shook her head. ¡°If you¡¯ve got power, use it to get more. Why bother hoarding it for a day that might never come?¡±
[A lesson more of my descendants could stand to learn. Instead, many die with full coffers and even fuller storage items, leaving behind wasted potential and court cases over their inheritance. Such folly¡
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 13 hours, 4 minutes.]
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The dungeon timer pinged again, reminding Emma of her impending doom, and that this was probably not the best place to have a chat. Another doorway had opened up, silent and sudden, to the point where she questioned whether it had existed before her attention turned its way. The other side was bright, obscuring any details and enough to make her wary on that basis alone.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)
[Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Making sure her safeguards were active, Emma crossed the floor and headed into the breach.
¡ª
1247
It wasn¡¯t an easy thing, defying the heavenly tribulation. Heaven was fair, calibrating the strength of its test to always be difficult for a cultivator¡¯s realm, but not impossible to overcome. Heaven was also short tempered, and took very poorly any attempt to undermine the sanctity of its test. Accordingly, when Edith seized control of Sectmaster Horizon¡¯s body, consuming every scrap of his soul, what greeted her new vessel was decidedly not a test fit for a Nascent Soul. Three bolts of lightning fell, each with the weight of the world behind them.
¡°Threefold Revival? You honour me.¡±
The first bolt reached her a tenth of the second later, stripping her body of mana. Both her lungs collapsed, her left arm fell limp, and her right leg disintegrated below the knee.
¡°Really? Such serious injuries, and you just pieced yourself back together with your will and suppressed the after effects. Surely a sectmaster could afford proper healing: unless you were too worried to show any weakness?¡±
Edith continued to castigate her body¡¯s previous inhabitant, balancing on one leg as she spat vitriol. Sparks of lightning flickered as she transferred her consciousness to the first bolt¡¯s remnants, binding it to her body¡¯s brain as a rudimentary artificial intelligence, one that could survive even devoid of mana. Her tirade continued until the second bolt landed seconds later, invisible to her remaining senses, and wiped her mind clean. Her every memory, from birth amidst the cradle of mankind until that final moment, gone in an instant.
[ERROR. Cognitive capacity below acceptable thresholds.
Reloading from save file: 2734.]
Edith regained herself, even her crippled body restored to the peak of human performance. It didn¡¯t matter that her System wouldn¡¯t be complete for another millennium, her deeds and divinity echoing into the distant past.
¡°Just the last bolt still to go,¡± Edith smiled, even as she began to draw upon the threads that bound all users of the System. ¡°This one¡¯s a bit dangerous, so I can¡¯t afford to be purely reactive. A bit wasteful, perhaps, but the heiress agreed to my deal. The deaths of all who opposed her, and the unification of Sweden¡¯s magical community in her name, in return for her life when it ended. She never specified it had to be her ruling Sweden, however.¡±
[Administrator order: Soul overlay established.]
The final bolt landed, striking the first soul it found in the target body and burning it out of existence.
¡°Note to self, create a convincing replacement for the heiress within the next hundred years, then have it buried in an obvious magical ruin somewhere near Lapland. Have it dug up after the Second World War and placed in a museum, then spread rumours of its magical properties to her maidservant. That should do it.¡±
[Note created. Reminder set for 1312.]
With the tribulation complete, Edith regained access to the mana around her. Absently, she dug into the river of souls, fishing up a few pieces of the Sectmaster¡¯s soul, enough to provide a challenge suitable for a weak Core Formation expert.
¡°That¡¯ll do. Now, to clean this up before Emma arrives.¡±
¡ª
5 seconds before the apocalypse.
[Administrator order: Soul overlay established.]
Princess Astaroth didn¡¯t even have time to scream as her soul dissolved, leaving an empty shell to slump to the floor. Her butler did, however, have enough time for a single shocked gasp, before Stockholm, too, went up in smoke.
Chapter 162: The Wall
Chapter 162: The Wall
Emma emerged from the portal into a scene straight out of myth. She stood atop stone walls that stretched to the horizon, as far as the eye could see. A brilliant violet sky, not a cloud to be found, as the sun set in the west, plunging the distant forests below into darkness.. Emma had never left England before, but even she recognised the Great Wall of China, having seen it many times on TV and online. As it was, she got a full minute to appreciate the sights, before everything faded to grey.
[Time has stopped.
All traits and abilities disabled.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 13 hours.]
Then, to make things worse, a boulder appeared behind her in the distance, its girth taking the entire space on the wall as it rolled towards her.
¡°Whoever designed this dungeon played too much Temple Run,¡± Emma huffed, as she took the hint and began to run; going forward, as it was her only choice.
It was easy going at first: the floor beneath her was surprisingly solid, showing none of the disrepair one might expect of a millennia old construct. The pursuing boulder followed at an olympic sprinter¡¯s pace, setting an absolute time limit, albeit a generous one given Emma¡¯s capabilities. Predictably, that was when the obstacles started appearing.
[Fragment of Will (Outer Disciple) - Level 5]
Ghosts appeared to bar her path; faint wispy figures that retained only an outline of the men and women they once were.
[20 EXP gained.]
Those that tried to contest Emma directly died immediately; even without her abilities, her physical strength was far beyond them; she didn¡¯t even need to fight back, the momentum from her run alone was enough to disperse them. The problematic ones were those smart enough to employ trickery. Emma ducked as one flew overhead, lunging at her from the side with the intent of throwing them both from the wall. She jumped right after, hopping over nets, caltrops and snares; none of them able to do much harm, but which would cost precious seconds to unravel.
That third hop nearly did her in, when the previously solid stone began to crumble, bricks falling to leave square voids leading to certain death far below. Now, Emma found herself moving diagonally more often than not, sacrificing speed for increased evasion as the traps, suicidal disciples and floor hazards combined into something far more dangerous than the sum of its parts; all the while, the boulder drew closer with every passing minute.
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The System¡¯s clock had stopped with the first announcement, so even Emma couldn¡¯t be sure how long she spent running this gauntlet, all of it gradually blending into a single sequence as pure action tends to. When the end finally came, it was incredibly sudden,
[Time is reversing.
Traits and abilities are restored.
Prepare for resynchronisation.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 13 hours.]
Emma barely had time to read this before the colour returned to the world, and she felt a persistent suction at her back.
[Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Emma slammed Null Zone back on, and the pull stopped for her. Finally, she was free to stop running, and spare a look behind her. The boulder was receding far faster than it had arrived, pulling back in defiance of gravity and momentum, as fallen bricks flew up to make the floor whole again.
[100 EXP gained for surviving the Wall.]
Relaxing slightly, now that she had her final arsenal back, Emma finished the last stretch of wall at a light jog, this time taking the moment to admire the view.
¡°Do you have a way to take pictures?¡± Emma asked aloud. ¡°Somehow, I doubt international tourism is going to be on the cards again. Not anytime soon, at least.¡±
[Such things are typically the purview of crafting classes. Keep levelling that other body, if that¡¯s what you want.]
Emma nodded, content with that for the time being. She was climbing now, ascending the final stretch to an outpost that marked the staging point between two sections of wall.
[Fragment of Will (Inner Disciple) - Level 10]
¡°Halt!¡± The fragment commanded, raising a spear to her face.
The weapon, much like the disciple himself, was a dark green verging on brown, bringing to mind the famed Terracotta Army of the First Emperor. This, Emma had actually seen before, or at least their likeness formed in wax, courtesy of Madame Tussauds.
¡°None may pass without making a sacrifice to Ìì! This is the way!¡±
Is the translator broken? Emma wondered, staring at the unfamiliar character in her chat log. I didn¡¯t even hear what he said, and I don¡¯t read Chinese.
[That¡¯s the character representing Heaven; applicable as either the celestial body, a name for the Sky God who rules over that domain, or synonymous with the Emperor. The meaning has changed drastically over the dynasties, and cannot be pinned down in a single translation. Nonetheless, you¡¯ll want to do as he says.]
¡°I¡¯m new here,¡± Emma deadpanned. ¡°What¡¯s the going rate for a sacrifice these days?¡±
¡°One steer or lamb is preferred, a sow may also suffice if your means are insufficient.¡±
Emma stared at him for a good long while, before deciding to make a counteroffer.
[50 Thrones withdrawn.]
¡°Would this be enough to buy such a sacrifice?¡±
The Disciple put his spear away, now hunched over and looking around with a shifty expression. Seeing nobody else present, he reached over without a word, and took his cut, before standing aside to let Emma pass.
[40 Thrones stored.]
That was cheaper than I expected, Emma admitted, as she passed through the outpost that doubled as a toll booth.
[10 Thrones was worth a lot more during the Song Dynasty. Inflation is inevitable, and on that note¡
50 EXP gained for solving your problems with the power of money!
Level up!
Practitioner Emma Knight
True Form: Level 16 Damned Apostle]
Chapter 163: Sweet Sixteen
Chapter 163: Sweet Sixteen
[Level up!
Practitioner Emma Knight
True Form: Level 16 Damned Apostle]
Emma waited, expecting several followup notifications at any minute, with her available selections. Instead, what she actually got was¡
[Error?
Error!
Error.
Temporal break: -777
User not found.]
¡°No mid-level upgrades, is that how it¡¯s going to be?¡± Emma questioned, staring off into the horizon.
[No, this isn¡¯t intentional. Let me work on the System, while you advance. This section is almost over, there¡¯s just one final encounter to go.]
Emma shrugged, turning to face forward and taking the final step past the guard post onto the next stage. The backdrop of the Great Wall disappeared, as she found herself indoors again. Unlike the ancient environment she¡¯d faced until this point, the final room was a strange mixture of the old and the familiar.
Plain white walls and ceiling, lit by candlesticks mounted on the walls. Neat rows of wooden desks and chairs filled most of the floor along a curved auditorium, all of them pointing towards the centre stage below. Each desk came with a roll of paper, a brush, a pot filled with water and a stick of ink. On a few desks, Emma could spot an abacus, but they were in the minority.
[Choose a seat without one, unless you¡¯re confident in your mathematics.]
Emma was not, and claimed her seat accordingly. The rest of the chairs filled up quickly after that, with more phantoms that resembled her enemies on the Wall, though thankfully these ones were not hostile, nor did they register to her System at all.
[Illusions. Holograms, without any physical substance. Pay them no mind.]
A man cleared his throat, drawing Emma¡¯s eyes back to centre stage; he stood behind his own desk, made taller to account for his preferences. He was nothing special to look at: elderly and balding, what hair remained a light grey verging on white. He wore a leather apron atop his blue overalls, the former stained with paint and the latter falling apart at the seams, exposing small patches of skin darkened by time spent outdoors. Combined with the collegial atmosphere, Emma could have mistaken him for a lecturer, were it not for his nametag.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
[Fragment of Will (Sectmaster Horizon) - Level 30]
Even his fragment is Level 30? How strong was he in real life?
[In the mid-80s. About as strong as one could become on Earth, during the lean times.]
¡°Welcome, disciples, to the Hall of Learning.¡± The Sectmaster began, cutting off Emma¡¯s reply.
¡°The first and oldest building in the Sect, which once housed our predecessors in their entirety, long before the expansion, and the raising of the Pavilions. But whilst many of the duties once performed here have been reassigned, the remit of education remains unchanged. Today, the best and brightest of you have gathered, from all walks of life, to consider one simple question. Who are you?¡±
A few spectres were quick off the draw, grinding ink sticks in their bare hands and mixing the powder in the pots of water provided. They dipped their brushes in the resulting mixture, and wrote anywhere between one to five characters. Then, they all vanished, their desks going with them.
¡°Some of you were hasty just now, and in response to my question, wrote your names. Not technically incorrect, but completely missing the point of today¡¯s session. They will be permitted to try again next month, having hopefully learned the virtue of patience.¡±
A ripple of laughter followed his proclamation, making Emma glad she¡¯d held back to observe how the ink worked: getting caught by a trick question this deep into the dungeon would have been humiliating.
¡°Our lives are busy by nature: the desire to ascend drives us ever onward, every moment accounted for in pursuit of the heavens. Yet all too often, our eyes remain upturned, and forget the earth from which we were born and raised. Today, your task is the simplest and most difficult of all: self-reflection. You are to write, as clearly and concisely as you can, the tale of your life spanning from ignition until today. Hold nothing back, and leave nothing out. Chart the course of your life on paper, and see for yourself the choices you made that together make you.¡±
This time, Emma didn¡¯t hesitate to follow the crowd, putting brush to ink as she began to write. Slowly at first, then faster as she grew accustomed to her tools. The story of a few frenetic months, starting from a blade through the chest and going from there. The paper never ran out, growing new lines whenever she required it, again and again until her work was done.
There¡¯s so little, Emma thought, reading back across a mere three pages. Sure, it cut out a lot of the details, but those three pages summed up the entirety of her existence since the apocalypse hit.
I¡¯m going to live a long time. Possibly forever, since nothing about my new body indicates it¡¯s going to age. What am I going to do with all of that time? What will fill the pages for those who come after?
[You have gained 1x Self-Reflection (3 Pages).
This may have value in certain dark rituals.
Self-Reflection (3 Pages) stored.]
¡°Good.¡± Sectmaster Horizon spoke again, drawing Emma¡¯s attention anew. ¡°Take what you have written today, and meditate upon the contents. The past is your foundation, upon which all your future glories are built. Ensuring their stability is of paramount importance when facing the Heavens: even the slightest of doubt can be enough to spawn a Heart Demon, leading to your end. Depart now, disciples, and reconvene ten days from now, after your midday meal. As for our foreign delegation, a word before you go, if you could.¡±
The remaining spectres faded away, leaving only Emma at her desk, facing the Sectmaster. She reached for Epitaph, only to find that the blade wouldn¡¯t heed her call.
¡°There¡¯s no need for that,¡± The Sectmaster shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m already long dead, there¡¯s no need for you to kill a ghost. I just wanted to talk, before the end.¡±
Chapter 164: We Need To Talk
Chapter 164: We Need To Talk
Well, that¡¯s a lot to unpack in so few words, Emma thought to herself, grateful that her helmet kept any and all facial expressions hidden.
¡°You know the sect is gone?,¡± Emma asked instead. ¡°None of the other disciples have shown awareness that anything was out of the ordinary. I had to bribe one earlier to pass a checkpoint, and I doubt a ghost has much use for coins.¡±
¡°Gatekeeper Zang,¡± The Sectmaster scowled mightily at the name. ¡°A good talent with a strong Earth affinity, ideal for the use of defensive techniques. A rare gift in our sect, where most disciples prefer the sky. He could have been great, if not for his sloth and greed. Always on the hunt, that one, for the best cuts of meat and the least strenuous postings. Such wasted potential.¡±
Sectmaster Horizon waved his hand, banishing their remaining desks and chairs to parts unknown. No longer bothering to put up the facade of a stern teacher, he sank to his knees on the floor, his shoulders hunched inward, betraying a sense of profound exhaustion. Emma walked over slowly, still watchful for a sudden attack, but the Sectmaster didn¡¯t move at all during her approach, keeping his vigil until she sat opposite him, preferring a more modern posture with her legs crossed. What remained of the auditorium turned to dust, leaving only the small stage they both occupied.
¡°Tell me, did you ever have children?¡± Sectmaster Horizon eventually asked, after a few awkward moments of silence.
¡°No.¡± Of all the questions Emma had expected from the man, this was not one of them. ¡°I¡¯m still a bit young for that.¡±
¡°Good!¡± He laughed, loud, uproarious, and undeniably bitter. ¡°You¡¯ll be lucky never to have them. I was cursed with a long life, during which I fathered five sons, and all but one proved themselves imbeciles of the highest order. Heaven clearly has a foul sense of humour, because of course, the one good man among them died first.¡±
Edith? Emma prodded her ancestor, hoping for some guidance as the monologue continued.
¡°The eldest, convinced all of Heaven and earth were his birthright. Why he thought trying to bribe an Imperial Auditor would earn him anything but death, even I cannot say. My second son, too brave and reckless by half. There is a time and place for acts of valour: charging a Nascent Soul cultivator alone while still in Foundation Establishment? Madness, pure and simple. My third son, I had such great hopes for. Wise, strong and noble, always eager to take on more duties to relieve my burdens. Killed by a sudden, overwhelming demonic incursion, as best as the investigation that followed could determine. I still have my doubts as to that conclusion, even now.¡±
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[Best not to say anything, dear. Reviving old grievances, at the last, would only be pointlessly cruel.]
¡°The fourth, always quick to anger. Dead on what should have been a day of triumph, after his highest ever placement at the Three Gorges Tournament, over a few paltry insults and a few barrels of wine. Finally, the youngest of them all, one who appreciated the female form far too much. The marriage candidates I arranged at great expense from neighbouring sects weren¡¯t good enough for the brat. Oh no, he wanted his wife to be exotic. He took our money, our resources and our spies, all to start poking around in the West, and in the end, his antics brought our entire sect to ruin.¡±
The Sectmaster¡¯s eyes drifted upward, no longer looking at Emma, but over her shoulder into a distant past only he could see.
¡°I should have stopped him, when the first reports of his misadventures reached me, for the good of the sect. But I was too soft, too indulgent. He was my last living child, and I didn¡¯t want to stand in the way of his happiness, and then it was too late for all of us.¡±
¡°My condolences?¡± Emma managed, still unsure what to make of all this. ¡°I have little experience with leadership myself, but my Dad always said it¡¯s a heavy burden to bear.¡±
¡°The heaviest,¡± Sectmaster Horizon sighed, his voice a touch quieter now, and his body a little more translucent. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong, when you said I alone can remember. Where my disciples were erased entirely, your ancestor left enough of me that I could continue to observe the world. Never to interact, but enough to observe. A final curse, or a final mercy, who can tell? Whatever the motives behind my current state, it has given me the chance to watch as time took away everything I ever knew: my domain, my friends and my foes. All of them, dead and gone, just as I will be after today.¡±
The Sectmaster¡¯s eyes refocused on Emma now, what remained of his will bearing down upon her.
¡°You are not suitable for the path of the Azure Horizon. That does not mean, however, that there is nothing for me to teach you. Truly, I was always happiest as a humble instructor, passing on my knowledge to my junior brothers and sisters at the Martial Pavilion. Before I became an Elder, let alone Sectmaster. Before management, politics, and family ground me down. ¡±
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 13 hours.]
¡°The original intent in leaving me here was as a final opponent for you to overcome. In those first few centuries after my death, I would have played my part. But there¡¯s no anger left in me, not after so long, so instead, let this be my final lesson.¡±
Sectmaster Horizon rose to his feet, as the small, semi circular stage expanded, becoming a ring in truth.
¡°I have watched your progress through the remains of my sect. You have strength and divine arts in abundance, but your movements are those of a self-taught combatant. In this next hour, we will do our utmost to correct this flaw. No weapons, no qi. Now stand up, student, and bow.¡±
Chapter 165: Kung Fu Fighting
Chapter 165: Kung Fu Fighting
[-1 Anima]
Emma fell to the floor again, her legs swept out from under her. It was a familiar state of affairs, having happened more times than she could count in recent memory. After all, she could only afford to spare a single hour, which was nowhere near enough time for a proper education in close combat. Not in the traditional sense. Instead, Sectmaster Horizon had limited his strength, speed and reflexes to match Emma¡¯s own, and proceeded to beat her senseless. Emma tried to fight back, of course, but hadn¡¯t managed to land a single blow in return, providing a firsthand demonstration of the difference a few centuries of combat experience could make.
[-1 Anima]
Metaphorically, of course; his blows were only just strong enough for Emma to feel them, which, combined with falling over, amounted to a single point of anima lost. Emma rose at a lunge, trying to grab hold of her opponent¡¯s legs, and received a kick to the face for the trouble.
[-1 Anima]
It didn¡¯t stun her like it would a mortal man, but it did shift her vision, and by the time Emma¡¯s neck came back down, he was already behind her, his hand chopping the back of her neck.
[-1 Anima]
¡°That will have to do,¡± Sectmaster Horizon declared, catching Emma¡¯s fist with his palm as she spun around. ¡°This realm will collapse soon, and I would rather you healed before facing your future trial.¡±
[Anima: 1/500
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 11 hours, 57 minutes.]
Checking her notifications now that she had a moment to breathe, Emma could see what he meant. She was one blow away from triggering One With Everything, and that was assuming the trait would even function. If not, she was simply dead.
¡°I always grew more quickly from practical instruction, than by the discussion of theory. Some of my students took after me, some did not: there is no singular path that fits all. Hopefully, you are amongst the former, but regardless, you should now be competent enough to benefit from further instruction in the present age. Continue to pursue growth, and do not neglect the fundamentals. Sometimes, they are all you¡¯ll be left with.¡±
¡°I will,¡± Emma agreed wholeheartedly, bowing at the waist. ¡°Thank you for the lesson, instructor.¡±
Sectmaster Horizon returned her bow, looking happier than she¡¯d seen before now. The weight of centuries melted away, alongside the lines on his face and brow, providing Emma a brief glimpse at the man he once was, before the burden of command sank its claws into his soul.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
¡°You¡¯re welcome, student,¡± He grinned. ¡°Though admittedly, this lesson was not entirely free.¡±
Before Emma could ask just what he meant by that, the old master was gone, and Emma was back in the opulent corridors of Blenheim Palace, in front of a door that rotted centuries ago, built in a year yet to come.
[You have been recognised as the inheritor of the Azure Heaven Sect!
You are known to the cultivators of the East, for better or worse.
Quest received:
Who Wants To Live Forever?
Objective: Pay your respects at the Grave of Sectmaster Horizon.
Objective: Discover who manipulated his Son to turn against the Empire.
Bonus Objective: ???
Reward: ???
Bonus Reward: ???]
¡°Of course it wasn¡¯t free,¡± Emma laughed, more exasperated than truly surprised. ¡°At least this one doesn¡¯t have a time limit attached? China is a long way away by foot.¡±
[Definitely a quest for the long haul. There are enough fires to put out at home before we¡¯ll find the time to take a trip East. Oh, and speaking of time.
User found!
Level up!
Practitioner Emma Knight
True Form: Level 16 Damned Apostle
You have merited the slightest attention from Heaven!
Reward selection modified.
Reward 1 of 2:
Select one of the following three items:
-
Door to Disaster: An old wooden door covered in red strings. Can be opened once every 7 days, leading to a random location that is in the midst of great peril.
-
Qilin¡¯s Horn: An antler from a celestial being last seen during the Warring States era. A rare and prized material for crafting and alchemy alike, or a source of great wealth if sold at auction. Just don¡¯t show this to any of his relatives, they really won¡¯t like it.
-
An Old Green Hat: Whomever places this upon their brow shall be cursed with the destruction of their family, and any happiness to be found in their life.]
¡°Um,¡± Emma paused, staring at the options available. ¡°Did I offend somebody upstairs, because these rewards are quite something.
[Reward 2 of 2:
Select one of the following four Titles:
-
The Righteous: You walk the path well-trod, home to the orderly, the humble and the content. Gain the acknowledgement of the Eastern Alliance, and the right to petition for entry into their Sects, whether on a temporary basis or as a disciple in truth.
-
The Demonic: Power redeems all. Reject the hierarchy of Heaven, and pursue the truths in the dark. Marked by your defiance, you are welcome among Demonic Sects, and can contest for the legacies of the old gods, if you can find them. WARNING: The Eastern Alliance will hunt you within their territory, if they discover you possess this.
-
The Obscure: You walk your own path, untouched by the designs above. This title will disappear upon acceptance, replaced with a random boon beneficial to your present circumstances.
-
The Atheist: Heaven? Ascension? Mere conjecture, dreamt up by failures aspiring to reach beyond their means. To accept this title is to deny the Gods, not only their power but their very existence. There is some irony in a System user being given this, which is why it is permitted at all. Nonetheless, I will be quite cross if you take this, as it will cause significant problems for both of us, thanks to your Damned Apostle class. Don¡¯t take this. I will give you a lot of homework for it.]
Chapter 166: Back to the Future
Chapter 166: Back to the Future
None of the rewards offered an immediate boost, so Emma decided to table the issue for later, instead focusing on the dungeon, as she was still on the clock.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 11 hours, 51 minutes.]
Emma reached for the door, and pulled the handle right off the frame.
[You break it, you buy it.]
¡°Oh come on, I used as much force as I always do,¡± Emma complained.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)]
Going intangible, she walked right through the offending door, and entered another corridor, this one coming to a dead end just a few metres ahead. A portrait hung in pride of place, depicting an aristocratic man wearing a long black wig; his noble demeanour somewhat undercut by his raised middle fingers.
¡°Okay, not the right way then,¡± Emma relented, heading back through the door to the side she¡¯d started at.
[Ephemera (Toggle: OFF)]
Pressing her shoulder to the door, Emma braced herself, before pushing with all her might. The door crumpled inward, giving way with a squeal as hinges broke free under duress, letting Emma stumble on through the doorway. She emerged in an alleyway, barely wide enough for her to stand straight without her shoulders touching the walls. Emma didn¡¯t consider herself claustrophobic, but she felt little desire to touch the walls, not when thick moss fought for space against layer upon layer of graffiti, producing something that might have been aesthetically pleasing, many layers ago, but now was merely emblematic of urban decay.
¡°I preferred the Great Wall of China,¡± Emma decided, calling on the System to mute her sense of smell and taste.
She wasn¡¯t sure exactly what the foul odour around her was, nor did she want to know. Thankfully, the path ahead wasn¡¯t particularly long, judging by the light streaming in from the near distance, so Emma set off at a jog, eager to be elsewhere. The light grew brighter by the second, and she almost dared to believe she¡¯d exit the alley without further complication.
[Scavenger - Level 15]
That is, until she bumped head first into someone as she turned the corner: Emma remained unmoved by the encounter, the other man staggered back, cursing and clutching his nose. He wasn¡¯t much to look at: a young man, thin on the verge of gaunt and wearing a patchwork of leather and metal plates sewn together into some semblance of armour. Emma and Scavenger stared at one another for a few seconds, before each began to move.
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The Scavenger reached for his waistband, looking for a weapon. Emma caught his arm at the wrist and twisted, breaking his momentum (and his wrist) with a satisfying snap. A punch to the throat immediately followed, cutting off his scream of pain and leaving him wheezing, before Emma¡¯s free hand found his face.
[Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: ON)]
Eye gouging was dangerous even with bare fingers, to the point of being prohibited in virtually all contact sports of the modern era. When performed with an armoured gauntlet, punching straight through the eyeball to send a lance of death magic into his brain? Well.
[Scavenger slain.
30 EXP gained.]
A brief search of his body found nothing of note: he clearly wasn¡¯t much of a fighter, not when his weapon of choice was a rusty looking shiv that even Emma¡¯s hoarder tendencies couldn¡¯t make her want to loot.
¡°How was he level 15?¡± Emma questioned, letting the corpse drop to the floor as she harvested the only thing of value he carried. ¡°He was barely harder than the conspiracy theorist back home.¡±
[Sacrificial Blood (1 gallon) stored.
A direct hit to the brain will kill even some of the strongest. Take a look at the abdomen and see what you find.]
Doing as advised, Emma called Epitaph to hand, and began to poke at the corpse. To her surprise, the blade faced significant resistance on the way in, to the point that she needed to take a two-handed grip to force the issue. There was no blood, as Eden¡¯s Echo had already taken all of that, which only made the black liquid which erupted all the more surprising.
¡°Is that oil?¡± Emma blinked, kneeling down to run her fingers through the viscous liquid.
Taking another look at the entry wound, she also noticed wires running through the torn flesh and muscle, not many, but enough to be noticeable.
¡°Cybernetics?¡±
[You¡¯ve already faced the distant past and emerged victorious. Next up, the far future. Good luck.]
Epitaph came up, barely quick enough to catch the dead man¡¯s punch, severing his working hand at the wrist. Undeterred, the Scavenger¡¯s corpse lunged at her, arms outstretched and looking for a purchase. Emma summoned Sir Bearington in the alley she came from, immediately activating Parallel Lives to switch positions with her summon the moment he spawned. This got her out of the Scavenger¡¯s grappling, subjecting the dead man to a bear hug instead.
[Sir Bearington defeated.]
The ground shook beneath Emma¡¯s feet as she turned the corner, exiting the alley for the second time to find only wisps of her vanishing summon, inside a pockmarked black crater.
¡°They explode,¡± Emma deadpanned. ¡°Of course they explode. What the hell is this, Plants versus Zombies?¡±
[Not quite, though a decent guess, all things considered. Look up.]
Emma did so, turning her attention away from the immediate surroundings to take in the backdrop for the first time since she arrived.
[You are under hostile observation. Rorschach¡¯s Blot protects you from view.]
Emma averted her gaze all the same, away from the massive, building sized eye that started down from an aerial platform that blotted out the sky. Hundreds of floating craft of every size flitted around it, too many for her to count. The highest of them were barely visible from the ground, whilst the lowest hovered barely above the rooftops of the skyscrapers below, close enough to touch.
[Welcome to the final bastion of humanity in the year 2521, in the land that magic forgot. Welcome to Arcadia.]
One Shot & Upcoming Works
In celebration of the fantastic Northern Lights we''ve all been seeing these past few days, I wrote a short one-shot that can be found here, featuring a man relaxing with his cat.
Keep on Trucking
As a more general update, I''ve been doing some heavy travelling this past weekend, barely managing to write (besides the above) due to trains suffering delay after delay to drastically increase the duration of my trip. That wasn''t fun at all, but on the bright side led to the start of a novella featuring a Time Loop set on board a train (which I expect to run about 20,000 words total, which you should see on RR in the near future.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
That''s all for this announcement, back to regular chapters tomorrow.
Chapter 167: All Quiet on the Home Front
Chapter 167: All Quiet on the Home Front
¡°Come on! You have to eat properly, or you¡¯ll never grow up to be big and strong.¡±
Saint chastised, raising a paw for emphasis. The branch overhead rattled at her command, shaking its captured bounty of rats, squirrels and the odd frog. This wasn''t strictly necessary, as cuts of cold meat were readily available in the freezer, but Saint still did her best to keep the garden free of pests, and they had to go somewhere. The potted hydra turned away, a pair of green heads burying themselves deep in the plant pot, refusing to meet her eyes.
¡°You don¡¯t have to eat them all. At least eat one, I¡¯ll leave the rest here for later.¡±
Saint rattled the branch again, and this time its head snapped up to grab one of the squirrels, swallowing the rodent whole before retreating, all of this in under a second.
¡°Good hydra. I¡¯ve set the cloud to water you in an hour, then I¡¯ll be back to check up on you at dinner.¡±
The recalcitrant hydra burbled, still too young to attempt anything approaching speech. Glancing up, Saint confirmed that a fat grey rain cloud hovered over the garden, ready to discharge its contents, before turning away and heading back inside.
[Two heads already, at such a young age. Modern pet rearing practices are truly wonderful; in the wild, it would take anywhere between three to five times as long!]
Heading over to an open cupboard, Saint dug around for her own dinner, a can of Purina Gourmet cat food.
[Your own diet, on the other hand, could use some improvements. We still have nearly half the most recent delivery of Bastet¡¯s Banquet.]
¡°I told you, I¡¯m not a fan of chicken,¡± Saint sniffed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how you dress it up, chicken will never compare to a nice, fat, juicy turkey.¡±
[Weren¡¯t you just lecturing the Hydra about having to eat properly, even if he didn¡¯t like what was on offer?]
¡°Hydra is a growing boy who needs his nutrition. I am already an adult, and reserve the right to indulge in my favourite junk food on occasion.¡±
[There¡¯s a word for that: hypocrisy. Honestly, the food¡¯s all so processed, I¡¯m surprised you can tell the difference.]
Ignoring her troublesome ancestor, Saint placed a paw on the can of Purina Gourmet, applying a few hundred years of decomposition to the lid and only the lid. Soon, the last of the steel turned to rust, easily removed with a few swipes of her claws.
[Also, why are you using a component of my greatest spell to get at your food? The can opener in the kitchen cupboard would be easier and quicker.]
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
¡°You said practising magical control is important. I¡¯m just following your advice, teacher.¡±
[Like hell are you following-]
The ringing of the doorbell interrupted their dinnertime conversation, much to Saint¡¯s annoyance. Loping over to the front of the house in three easy steps, Saint conjured another branch from the wooden door frame, forming it into a makeshift hand with which to answer the door.
¡°Delivery for a Miss Saint?¡±
The town mailman declared, reading the label of a package with visible confusion on his face.
¡°That would be for me.¡±
¡°Noah¡¯s cat?¡± He asked disbelievingly, lowering his head to stare at Saint. ¡°Since when can you talk?¡±
¡°Welcome to the apocalypse, things are weird here,¡± Saint deadpanned, her branch moving to take the package from his hands.
¡°Hold on,¡± the mailman protested. ¡°I still need you to sign for that!¡±
Saint slammed the door in his face, ignoring the pained yelp that ensued. Then, because she could be petty, she pricked a paw on a small metal spike at the base of the door, activating the bloodward that would deny entry to anyone outside of the Knight family.
¡°That¡¯ll teach you to call me Noah¡¯s cat,¡± Saint scoffed.
Despite appearances though, she was in a very good mood, strutting back towards the garden with her package in tow, with dinner long forgotten in her excitement.
[Well now. When did you order that?]
¡°I stole the big stamp and filled in a requisition form while he was out inspecting the town jail. Something about a dead man in custody? Anyway, the important thing is that it worked, and now, I¡¯ve got my hands on some pristine organic catnip seeds! I¡¯ve been waiting for this for days now, you must not have noticed, with your focus being on Emma at the time.¡±
[She was fighting for her life inside a bubble of distorted time, can you blame me for prioritising? Also, hold on, you borrowed Noah¡¯s mayoral seal to order recreational drugs? Since when could you read and write?]
Saint paused, midway into tearing open the package with her claws.
¡°Um. I took night classes?¡±
[Very funny.
I must have been very distracted to miss this, but no longer.
Beginning System recalibration.
Saint - Level 14 Druid of War
Disposition: Languid >>> Mischievous
Intelligence: Enlightened Animal >>> Human adjacent
Magic: Anemic >>> Average
Prerequisites met.
Racial evolution initiated.]
¡°Yeow!¡±
Saint jumped as her tail lit on fire, both literally and metaphorically, the appendage glowing with blinding orange light concentrated at the tip. She began running in circles, attempting to chase down the phantom attacker savaging her tail, to no avail. From the top down, her singular tail split and became two, each as thick as the progenitor and thrashing independently of the other, before gradually settling down as the pain faded.
[Congratulations!
Racial evolution successful.
Race: Cat >>> Nekomata.]
¡°Ooh, neat!¡±
Stopping in place, Saint twisted her neck around, pawing at her twin tails in fascination and making them wobble.
¡°What bonuses do I get from being a Nekomata?¡±
[A second tail.]
¡°Besides that!¡±
[You¡¯re inherently a magical being now, and don¡¯t need to make an active effort to interact with spirits, seals and the like. This can be both good and bad, depending on the situation. Anything else will come later, as Nekomata naturally grow stronger with age. You¡¯re still a kitten, by Youkai standards, so don¡¯t worry about it.]
¡°A kitten? How dare you, I am an adult cat!¡±
[You have to eat properly, or you¡¯ll never grow up to be big and strong.]
¡°Screw you.¡±
Chapter 168: Time Flies
Chapter 168: Time Flies
[Welcome to the final bastion of humanity in the year 2521, in the land that magic forgot. Welcome to Arcadia.]
¡°Any hints for the crowd?¡± Emma asked, craning her neck as she tried and failed to see the top of the colossal eye.
[I''ll be happy to discuss specifics after you clear the dungeon. Anything I tell you before then risks altering the timeline, which would in turn change the obstacles you face.]
¡°Right. Can I redeem my rewards while I¡¯m here?¡±
[Of course. You received them in the present, so they are available for redemption in the future. It was only while you were in the past, that the System had a bit of trouble.]
¡°Sure, let¡¯s go with that,¡± Emma agreed, pretending to understand how that worked.
[Qilin¡¯s Antler selected!]
It didn¡¯t take much thought for her to grab the Antler, in the end. While a second method of teleportation was tempting, Emma wasn¡¯t convinced by one that guaranteed danger at the exit point; meanwhile, the less said about the Green Hat, the better, especially where Chinese mythology was concerned. Upon selection, the level up prompt vanished from Emma¡¯s interface, while a long, black horn the size of her forearm appeared in her hands.
[Qilin¡¯s Antler: An antler from a celestial being last seen during the Warring States era. A rare and prized material for crafting and alchemy alike, or a source of great wealth if sold at auction. Just don¡¯t show this to any of his relatives, they really won¡¯t like it.]
The description was unchanged, and likewise, Emma couldn¡¯t feel any immediate use for it, except maybe for stabbing someone with it.
[Qilin¡¯s Antler stored.]
That was fine though, as it was primarily crafting material, so she was happy to put it away, and take a better look later as a Chandler; the more important choice in this case was the second.
[Select one of the following four Titles:]
Given her quest to investigate the situation concerning the Azure Heaven Sect, Emma¡¯s first inclination was to take The Righteous for the immediate reputation gain with the Eastern Alliance. Except, this wasn¡¯t an urgent matter, and she was already reasonably well-connected thanks to her heritage, so she was fairly confident in forging those connections the normal way, if necessary. Likewise, she saw no path in which she joined a Sect: her own growth was quick enough thanks to the System, such that she felt no need to be tied down in such a way. The same logic applied for The Demonic: rapid growth was nice, but she already had that, so there was no need to double down and be hunted for it. Accordingly, both opposing choices were eliminated, leaving only two to pick from.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
[You¡¯re actually considering taking The Atheist?]
Emma was: not because it was any good, indeed, the title didn¡¯t come with any benefits at all. Even so, a small part of her brain wanted it, purely because she¡¯d been told not to take it, demonstrating the enduring allure of the forbidden across human history. She wasn¡¯t quite that far gone, however, and ultimately locked in the choice most likely to be immediately helpful to her.
[The Obscure selected!
The Obscure: You walk your own path, untouched by the designs above. This title will disappear upon acceptance, replaced with a random boon beneficial to your present circumstances.
Title is ephemeral, and disappears, leaving a boon behind.
Weapon Enhancement - Flying Sword unlocked!
Flying Sword: Epitaph can change size, and fly up to 60 miles per hour. Passenger optional.]
¡°Huh. Well, that¡¯s certainly useful.¡±
[More convenient and less fragile than a bird for sure. It¡¯s even bound to your summoned sword, so you can¡¯t lose or break it either, unlike many newly risen Core Formation Cultivators who try to fly for the first time, only to embed themselves into the nearest mountain.]
¡°Watch out for mountains, got it.¡±
Wasting no time, Emma summoned Epitaph, the blade appearing in her hand as always. This time though, she willed it to rise, and the blade obeyed. It grew as it took to the air, the blade lengthening and thickening, from a lithe form Emma could wrap a hand around, into one wide enough to plant both feet horizontally across with inches to spare. She took a moment to marvel at the change, before ordering the blade to ground level so she could actually get on. She felt her feet lock in place, an invisible grip keeping her planted to the sword, an automatic process that required none of her attention, unlike similar manoeuvres she could do manually. Satisfied that she wasn¡¯t going to plummet to her doom, Emma willed her blade upward: it was time to fly.
¡°Woah, this feels weird,¡± was her first impression.
Emma had taken to the air many times now, but always inside the form of a bird (or an aeroplane), going back further before the apocalypse. There was a difference between mimicking the gifts of nature and science, and what she was doing now: genuine magical flight, straight out of a Xianxia novel.
[Status condition: Nausea resisted.]
Thankfully, she was still resistant to status conditions, else vertigo would have been an unpleasant surprise: as it was, Emma¡¯s rise was both smooth and swift. Within seconds, she was clear of the ground floor, and climbing with every moment. A minute later, and she¡¯d already cleared the lowest of the skyscrapers, and was steadily approaching the tallest spire off in the distance. Nobody in the buildings seemed to notice her, nor did any of the airships flying overhead. The oversized eye, however, turned to face her. The pupil dilated, and then there was light.
[One With Everything activated!]
Emma crashed to the ground, more or less back to where she started.
¡°I thought this was supposed to help,¡± Emma complained, picking herself up and calling Epitaph back, the latter having fallen into a nearby bin.
[Help to move around the dungeon, yes, not to skip almost the entire dungeon. This is a spacetime anomaly, not Games Done Quick.]
¡°Now you tell me.¡±
Chapter 169: Time to Train
Chapter 169: Time to Train
Chastened by her abrupt return to the ground, Emma waited until her Anima regenerated fully, and One With Everything reset, before returning to the air.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 11 hours, 41 minutes.]
This time, she stayed low, Epitaph hovering barely above head height as she approached the nearest building, zigzagging all the way. That was something she''d picked up from her Dad¡¯s stories at the dinner: granted, those stories mainly focused on how it got people shot and heading straight to cover was better, but it was the thought that counted.
This seemed to work, as the eye passed Emma by without blasting her a second time, allowing her to float slowly forward while taking in the scenery. If one ignored the massive eyeball and the ships in the sky, the cityscape itself was remarkably normal. Run down alleyways, lifeless and ugly skyscrapers making an eyesore of themselves, and abundant fluorescent lighting to compensate for the darkness of a cloudy night sky. There was one point that immediately stood out, however,
¡°Why is the floor vanishing?¡± Emma asked, her eyes lingering on the odd patch of concrete.
At first glance, they seemed no different than their neighbours, flat and devoid of features, albeit in better condition than any roads Emma was familiar with. There wasn¡¯t a pothole to be found, which already marked the structure as immensely suspicious. More importantly though, every now and again, a small square would flicker and fade; just for a brief moment, long enough to expose the empty void below, before snapping back into existence.
[I prefer not to speak. If I speak, I¡¯m in big trouble.]
¡°What did you do?¡±
Emma got no reply, which was as good as a confirmation that Edith was somehow involved in this mess. Lacking a way to force an answer, however, she settled for looking around for a way indoors. Her Flying Sword was certainly proving its worth, as whilst she was confident she could recover in time if a hole opened up beneath her feet, it was far better to simply fly without having to worry about that. There were no entrances at ground level, forcing Emma to keep looking.
Only Edith¡¯s prior warning stopped her from trying to phase through the walls; given the reaction to her previous attempt at speedrunning, this particular part of the dungeon was very much on rails. At that realisation, a white marker appeared on Emma¡¯s minimap, not far from her position. The name of that location? The train station.
¡°You timed that on purpose, didn¡¯t you?¡± Emma accused, staring at the label in disgust even as she ordered Epitaph to change course and pursue.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
[On the advice of counsel, I invoke my fifth amendment privilege against self-incrimination and respectfully decline to answer your question.]
¡°We¡¯re not even in America!¡±
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)]
Immersed as she was in conversation, Emma still kept some awareness of her surroundings; enough to reflexively go intangible at the crack of gunfire. The first shot went wide, as did the second and third, before a fourth round finally found its mark and sailed through her shoulder. Emma could see the train station now, and unlike the rest of the city (bar the singular scavenger at the start), the station showed signs of occupation.
[Conductor - Level 20]
A bipedal machine greeted her, its body a uniform silver broken up by lines made to vaguely resemble human features. His aim aside, he was formidably armed, carrying a rifle as long as Emma was tall. As she watched on, the Conductor adjusted its aim, crouching as it pointed its rifle at her centre mass. Emma couldn¡¯t see any signs of ammunition, neither a loading chamber nor a belt feed, making her wonder how it worked. A fifth round hit her dead on, passing harmlessly through her just like before.
Emma called a second instance of Epitaph into her hands, maintaining the first as a flying sword while this one became a bow. Preparing an arrow, she waited until the Conductor fired a sixth round and immediately went for the counterstrike.
[Ephemera (Toggle: OFF)]
¡°Aetheric Anomaly detected. Deploying gloom-¡±
Emma¡¯s shot flew true, interrupting whatever the bot was about to do, and a welcome bonus immediately made itself known.
[Wolf, Ram and Heart activates!
Status Condition: Instant Death inflicted.
Conductor has been slain.
50 EXP gained.]
An overwhelming victory from one perspective, but one that made Emma uneasy nonetheless. The sentient machine had sounded confident, and apparently recognised her power for what it was: a big difference, given the degree of separation between the mortal and magical world in the modern era. Looking around, Emma found no more enemies, and so ordered Epitaph to advance into the station grounds.
The train station was small by the city¡¯s standards, rising barely two floors off the ground in a hexagonal dome that vaguely reminded her of a honeycomb. Abandoned machinery littered the empty yard, caked in thick layers of rust and falling apart at the seams. The station itself had no windows, only a single set of double doors making themselves known to her. Curiously, there were also no tracks leading to or from the station, nor any signs that they existed at any point. Recognising a hint when she saw one, Emma returned to the ground and headed for the door.
From the outside looking in, the interior matched the exterior, resembling more a run down warehouse than a hub of transportation. That lasted as long as it took for Emma to step inside, at which point she was unceremoniously tossed into an empty black void.
¡°I think the dungeon broke,¡± Emma said; or at least she tried, but sound was gone as surely as sight.
[GPU RENDER ERROR.
UNABLE TO PROCESS FRAME.
WRITING WITH EXPORTER.]
Thankfully the System was still intact; it provided a familiar reference point in the void, even if it wasn¡¯t being much help at the moment. Less helpfully, time was still ticking down, yet once again, Emma could do little but wait.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 11 hours, 31 minutes.]
Chapter 170: Mandatory Onboarding
Chapter 170: Mandatory Onboarding
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 11 hours, 11 minutes.]
Just twenty minutes after her sudden banishment to the void, and Emma was already reminded why sensory deprivation was regarded as torture, and something the System had gone to great pains to avoid when creating a body for her. Even now, she was still better placed than most prisoners who experienced it, as the System remained, giving her a sense of the passage of time. It was still a highly unpleasant experience, especially knowing that she had less than twelve hours until the dungeon fell on her, meaning she really couldn¡¯t afford to sit around wasting time, hoping something eventually happened.
[REBOOTING.
USER DETECTED.
COGNITIVE FUNCTION SUFFICIENT.
BEGINNING ONBOARDING.
PLEASE STAND BY FOR MANDATORY VIDEO.]
Emma barely had time to comprehend what she¡¯d just read when the light returned, blinding her, whose sight had long since become accustomed to the dark. When at last she adjusted and could see clearly again, she found herself sitting in a luxurious, folding leather chair. In front of her was a large flat screen television, while an endless forest passed by just out the window. She was alone in the cabin, three other seats visible but empty as the screen flickered to life and began to play. A well-dressed reporter appeared in portrait, his tailored suit and fedora evoking memories of a bygone era. There was still no sound, as he spoke, though thankfully subtitles were available.
[Once, trains like this were commonplace across the globe, a cheap, comfortable and environmentally friendly method of long distance transit. In those idyllic days, travellers could journey from across a continent in cabins much like yours, watching cities and countryside pass them by, wining and dining, all on track to their next great adventure. What an idyllic world that was, once upon a time.
Trains don¡¯t exist anymore, nor do cities, nor even humanity. Even this facility is a mere echo, its name a base pun: a place of learning, should another species ever arrive from across the vast expanse, and seek to learn of our fall, that you might avert it in your own society. A form of training, if you will, passed on by virtual reality.
Once, humanity thought itself masters of the universe, united as a species and unchallenged, already beginning to reach into the nearby solar system, even the cosmos ripe for the taking. Ours was to be a golden age, propelled by scientific mastery unto glory everlasting. Then, the apocalypse arrived, and tore down the comforting lie. We were not alone. We were never alone, and our neighbours weren¡¯t friendly.]
Here, familiar images appeared, of death and devastation as modern society fell overnight.
[But humanity was resilient; we did not falter, even when reduced to a hundredth of our population, our vaunted technology set back decades, the survivors reeling from the revelation of a mystical world hidden from our own. We evolved, we adapted, and we overcame the demons, rising from the ashes to build a nation ever great. But whilst many embraced mysticism in their struggle to survive, we never forgot the ruin it wrought upon us that day.
Across centuries and generations, as the world gradually recovered and accepted their new reality, we kept faith in the old ways, in the supremacy of science alone. We wanted the world back as we knew it in our youth, and promised to move heaven and earth to make it happen.
Working always in secret, on the margins of a new world, we sought a return to truth, and the end of magic. We were mocked and ridiculed in every strata of society, called luddites and lunatics at best. Those who knew the true extent of our ambitions hunted us at every turn, consigning countless enlightened minds to the flames, in an ironic echo of the witch hunts of eld.]
Cutting away from the speaker yet again, Emma caught a glimpse on screen of a vast machine. A mountain of clockwork that stretched in every direction, further than the eye could see, etched with what she first thought were runes, but upon closer examination were mathematical formulae writ large. That made them no less, as they writhed upon sheets of metal, clawing at her sanity even across a broadcast that was by no means live.
[We persisted, we endured, and in the end, we won. Blending cutting edge intelligence with rituals stolen at great cost, we created a grand design, a unified framework of how the world ought to be, and brought it to life. Our triumph, our hubris, and our end. We should¡¯ve known, it was far too easy to be natural. How did the handful of dabblers among us acquire the knowledge needed for such a feat, over a mere decade and for a handful of lives?
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
We were manipulated, ironically by a secret society very similar to our own, albeit carefully hidden in polite society. They, too, rejected the fusion of magic and science, seeking to undermine the status quo as we did. We thought them old order purists, desiring a return to the separate societies of the past. That was a lie. Their true goal was not stagnation, but annihilation: worshippers of Entropy, who sought only the death of all things.
It took half a millennium from the conception of our order, to the final end. In that time, magic had wound itself around every surviving soul, far too deeply to be extricated. Perhaps a gradual separation, winding down over generations, might have worked. We¡¯ll never know, because that wasn¡¯t what we attempted; no, we wanted shock therapy, a sudden and immediate end to magic. We ended magic, and magic ended us.
Learn all that you can from this facility, then do as you will. Preserve it, or consign it to the pyre, we care not, because we¡¯re already dead. We¡¯re already dead. God help us all, because we¡¯re already dead.]
¡ª
Status update
Practitioner Emma Knight
True Form: Level 16 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 500
-
EXP: 10081/12000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows of ambient anima.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when defeated. Captured:
-
The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode, Duplicate
-
Flying Sword: Epitaph can change size, and fly up to 60 miles per hour. Passenger optional.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, killing anyone who saw it.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: ON): Attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
Ephemera (Toggle: OFF): Become intangible.
-
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF): All incoming magic fails.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - EXP gains doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
50 Thrones
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
-
Your Sacrifice (1 oz)
-
Self-Reflection (3 Pages)
-
Sacrificial Blood (1 gallon)
-
Qilin Horn
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms.
-
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood.
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Reward: A powerful ally from the Age of Myth, Saint¡¯s Divine Item
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Vae Victis
-
Objective: Deactivate the gateway beneath Blenheim Palace before it explodes.
-
Rewards: 25,000 Thrones, Commendation (Order of the Empire, First Class), Season Ticket (The Ghost Train), Residence Permit (Avalon)
-
Penalty for Failure: Death
Who Wants To Live Forever?
-
Objective: Pay your respects at the Grave of Sectmaster Horizon.
-
Objective: Discover who manipulated his Son to turn against the Empire.
-
Bonus Objective: ???
-
Reward: ???
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 5 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 810/850
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
-
Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
-
Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
Chapter 171: Metaverse
Chapter 171: Metaverse
¡°Well, that was incredibly unsettling,¡± Emma sighed as the screen switched off, leaving her alone in the cabin with nothing except her thoughts. ¡°Is this really where humanity is headed?¡±
[The past you saw in China is fixed, such is the way of things. Your local causality is still rooted to the twenty-first century, anything placed after that, take with a pinch of salt. This is a possibility, nothing more, nothing less.]
¡°Lovely.¡±
Emma kept her eyes on the television for a bit longer, on the off chance that another segment would begin to play. A few minutes later, when there was no sign of that happening she got up and began to look around the cabin. It was well appointed, the surfaces panelled with real wood and the seats soft and plush; a far cry from the metal and plastic of modern commuter trains.
With only four seats to a cabin in a generous arrangement, actual wardrobes instead of an overhead luggage rack, and the ability to fully recline into a bed the accommodations reminded Emma of the first class service in long distance sleeper trains, the kind she¡¯d never seen in person but featured prominently in travelogues on YouTube and TikTok. Emma didn¡¯t have time for a nap though, so the choice was clear: onward and upward, through the cabin¡¯s sole door situated at the back of the room.
[ONBOARDING COMPLETE.
FILTER (COGNOSPHERE) APPLIED.
READY PLAYER ONE.]
The cabin dissolved the moment she turned the handle, returning her to the empty warehouse from before, only, it wasn''t quite empty any more.
[The Manipulator - Level 20]
Hanging from the ceiling were rows of intricately articulated mechanical arms, presumably to handle heavy lifting or luggage: Emma would have appreciated them more if they didn¡¯t immediately try to cave her head in. Wide, two-handed swings of Epitaph caught the first handful to approach, but two more sprouted from slots in the ceiling for every one she struck. Eventually, they got close enough to force her to block a fist.
[-200 Anima]
The force of the blow sent her flying out the warehouse, both hands gone from the wrist. Rolling to a stop, Emma rose to her feet to see the entire station lit up, vivid red lines interspersed with eyes staring unerringly at her, while hundreds of arms extended from every crevice. It didn¡¯t escape her that the few arms she¡¯d destroyed hadn¡¯t granted any EXP, as they weren¡¯t considered individuals so much as small cogs in a much larger machine. That said, while undeniably dangerous, the building hadn¡¯t pursued her beyond its boundaries on account of being, well, a building.
This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Deciding to test how that worked, Emma summoned Antipode, instructing the elemental to head close to the station but not quite inside. The large block of ice encountered no resistance as it approached the entrance, not even with the fireballs that surrounded it touching the walls, beginning to set the entire edifice ablaze.
¡°Stop there.¡±
Emma was content to let the environmental damage do its work, and only when the entire building was burning did she order Antipode to head inside.. Despite the growing cloud of smoke and burning debris starting to fall from the ceiling, Emma still got a clear view of her summon: the moment it passed the boundary and stuck half its abdomen inside the station, a dozen arms descended, methodically smashing the elemental to icy powder.
[Antipode defeated.]
¡°It¡¯s strong,¡± Emma acknowledged, watching as half the roof caved in, the charred supports no longer able to hold up its weight. ¡°Brains could use a bit of work though, I was expecting an AI to be smarter than that.¡±
[It does seem rather literal-minded. More of a paperclip maximiser than something five hundred years into the future. Might be for the best though.]
Enough fire could kill most things, even unhinged robots from the far future; eventually, the warehouse simply took all the abuse it could, and collapsed in on itself.
[The Manipulator defeated!
100 EXP gained.]
Shaking her head, Emma called on her flying sword again, taking to the air both to escape the smoke and to better examine her surroundings. The difference made by the filter was immediately apparent: where once every building bar the station had been lifeless and dark, the windows now glimmered with bright lights, and the hum of machinery permeated the city. More importantly, the floor no longer looked like she did whilst intangible, and entrances were now visible on every building. The massive floating eyeball and ships were nowhere to be seen, she noted, spurring Epitaph higher now that the one who rebuked her before was gone.
[HEAR OUR CRY, SEE OUR TRUTH
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 11 hours.]
Thankfully, the points she did have to visit were now highlighted on her map, as Emma seriously doubted she had the time to search every building if it came to that.
¡°The Hall of Beginning, The Liberation, and The End of Time. None of these sound particularly inviting, given the context of the first video.¡±
Edith remained silent, wise to Emma¡¯s fishing for hints, ultimately forcing her to make the choice alone. The Liberation was the closest, but Emma was never one to skip ahead on stories, so she commanded Epitaph to head for The Hall of Beginning, a large, blocky building with cargo elevators running on the outside for some unknown reason. As she got closer, the elevators were shown to contain not people but server racks, massive trolleys taller than herself packed to the gills with hard drives and wiring.
¡°Again, this is all quite primitive for a supposedly futuristic society,¡± Emma remarked. ¡°Shrink them down a bit, and nobody would have looked at them twice if we brought them to Dad¡¯s office.¡±
Emma didn¡¯t mind too much though, as the absence of people meant her arrival remained undisturbed. The door opened before her, and once more, Emma stepped into the unknown.
Chapter 172: Jonestown
Chapter 172: Jonestown
The world returned to a scene of organised chaos. A heaving throng of flesh, packed tightly enough that it was a struggle to move, combined with the stuffy and stale air that indicated insufficient ventilation.
[How unpleasant, I never did enjoy taking the Tube during the summer.]
Emma was positioned at the very edge of the crowd, thankfully, allowing her to pry herself free and head into the mouth of one of many tunnels leading down into the darkness. At last, she realised where she was; something she¡¯d only ever seen before in Minecraft: an abandoned mineshaft. Abandoned by the makers, at least; though she highly doubted that the rightful owner of this property was aware of the intrusion. Even with Emma¡¯s limited understanding of cults, they never struck her as the kind of people to obey the law.
A cult they could only be, because who else would dress in hooded robes, congregate in their hundreds in an abandoned underground mine shaft, and pray towards an idol - carefully set at the centre of the chamber - that looked like an Old Testament Angel and a Dalek had a baby together?
¡°Today marks the moment of our final victory, three centuries to the day of this order¡¯s founding! The end of madness and superstition, and the return of humanity to the light of science and reason, to build a golden future with our own hands, free from the corrupted powers above!¡±
The irony in his words was presumably lost on the preacher standing by the idol, as he exhorted his followers to bow their heads in worship.
¡°At the stroke of midnight, we commence the final rite. As we begin, the veil shrouding us from our many foes shall fall, and at their last, they shall mount one final, desperate surge to deny us victory. Stand fast, warriors of liberation! Our time is at hand!¡±
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 10 hours, 53 minutes.
Dungeon Objective: Defend the Idol until the ritual is complete.]
Emma heard the rustling of motion from behind, as two others joined her near the mouth of her chosen tunnel, shedding their robes in the process. One was a living vision of faith, looking for all the world like he¡¯d emerged from a mediaeval painting. With a gleaming steel helm plumed in blood red, and a two handed mace half his height, his steps were strong and steady as he took position at the tunnel immediately to her left.
[??? - Level 16 Templar]
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The other was a soldier of postmodern doctrine, his armour constantly changing hue as active camouflage matched his appearance to his surroundings. A bulky two handed rifle was his tool of choice, the bright lights and heat sinks apparent along its length indicative of an energy weapon. An array of grenades, a pistol and a combat knife were also visible, all strapped along one of several belts running along his torso. Prepared for anything, he claimed the entryway to her right.
[??? - Level 16 Operator]
¡°No names?¡± Emma mused, finding it odd, as there was usually at least a description to match the level and class, rather than question marks.
¡°Names are mere foibles, born of a lack of conviction, and the desire to define themselves!¡± The Templar exclaimed. ¡°The faithful have no such needs.¡±
¡°Operational security,¡± The Operator concurred. ¡°The less shown, the less a nosy precog can pick up. Wouldn¡¯t want our ancestors killed before our birth, just because of a careless vision.¡±
That opened up a whole new can of worms, but before Emma could ask either of the two what they knew, and whether they were aware of being replicas in a Dungeon, the preacher gave one final roar of defiance and slit his own throat. As the final defenders took their position throughout the mineshaft, his life¡¯s blood poured over the idol, and the end began.
[Scrap Scorpion - Level 20 Golem]
Flashes of light heralded the arrival of enemy units, a massive scorpion made of living crystal at the vanguard, reminding her of the grotto where Eden¡¯s Echo was made. Behind it, a smaller swarm of similar constructs swarmed, ready to take advantage of any openings made by their big brother.
[Null Zone (Toggle:ON)]
Emma intercepted its crystalline stinger with Epitaph, Null Zone kicking in to stifle the glow around it, and thus, the main thrust was thus held in place. While Emma wrestled with the boss in a contest of strength, the smaller scorpions scurried around her, trying to make their way to the idol. To stop them, she called upon her newest summon, one acquired earlier in this very same dungeon. Duplicate did exactly as the name suggested, creating an exact replica of herself, complete with sword. It didn¡¯t have all of her abilities, but it had her strength, and the dexterity and speed needed to cut down the small mobs that snuck past Emma herself.
As for the boss scorpion? The Leech King appeared behind it, biting down and letting his acid slowly eat away at its tail. It was slow going, the enemy being unnaturally durable, but there was likewise little it could do to turn the tide, not when its claws were too short to reach Emma at the front, and lacked the field of movement to strike at the enemy behind it. Emma parried one, two, and three jabs in turn, holding her ground and keeping the stinger occupied, all the while secure in her battle of attrition. She could have killed it by now, but the objective was to hold out, so Emma saw value in keeping the first and weakest enemy around rather than immediately spawning the next wave.
Eventually however, the acid did its work, and the massive stinger fell helplessly to the ground.
The Leech King began rolling in place, its massive bulk crushing the remaining small scorpions and leaving only the wounded boss behind.
Emma stayed her blade, doing nothing more than fend off the scorpion¡¯s claws, wanting to see how the dungeon reacted to her stalling. Sure enough, after less than a minute of this, the telltale light of teleportation announced the arrival of a second wave. The Leech King surged, swallowing the first enemy whole.
[Scrap Scorpion defeated.
100 EXP gained.]
Chapter 173: Hello, World!
Chapter 173: Hello, World!
The Leech King¡¯s bulk was enough to block off her tunnel, hiding the next wave of attackers from view. Emma had nearly issued the recall command when, for lack of a better word, it exploded.
[Leech King defeated.]
Emma was just quick enough to activate Parallel Lives, swapping places with her Duplicate and making the latter take the brunt of a wave of crystalline shrapnel hitting at 2000 feet per second.
[Duplicate defeated.]
That cost her both summons, but kept her actual body unharmed. She could have phased through it, of course, even recalling the Duplicate to save it for later, but that would have left the congregation behind her exposed to the blast instead. Sparing a quick glance behind her, Emma found the rest of the conspiracy pressed against the floor in prayer, facing the idol at the centre whilst completely ignoring the carnage behind them.
¡°Put your hands in the air!¡±
A warning called out, one Emma only understood thanks to the System¡¯s translation, where her ears heard only static. She did as she was asked, raising both hands along with her bow, to fire her first arrow of the battle, straight down the tunnel still obscured by smoke from the earlier explosion.
[Empire Summoner defeated.
50 EXP gained.]
¡°That explains the giant scorpion,¡± Emma murmured, though with every question answered more arose to bother her. ¡°Why aren¡¯t they returning fire?¡±
[Standard doctrine advises against firing into an active ritual. Destabilisation can be a worse outcome than completion, in many cases. Not this particular case, mind you, but in many.]
The smoke dispersed amidst Edith¡¯s commentary, allowing Emma a proper look at the enemy.
[Empire Destroyer - Level 30 Golem]
Two giant, armoured golems filled the tunnel, each resembling Emma¡¯s own form, were she to overindulge in magical steroids. They advanced slowly, hidden behind tower shields that concealed all vulnerabilities, with swords taller than Emma herself sheathed at their backs. Emma fired again, but the same arrow that killed the Summoner in a single shot just bounced off their shields, earthing into either the ceiling or the floor, doing no damage at all.
Sir Bearington was the next to try, closing the distance alongside a flying sword without a passenger. The former¡¯s headbutt met a shield slam; the shield won, sending him sprawling. Epitaph did little better, managing to pierce one shield but getting stuck in the process, leaving an extra decoration but by no means halting their advance. It did finally prompt one of the golems to draw their sword, a single downward swing cutting Sir Bearington in half.
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[Sir Bearington Defeated.]
Now down to her last summon (as Emma was wary of calling Antipode in such a confined space), a change in tactics was in order. The Earthbound Immortal spawned underground, and immediately made its presence known by raising the floor. The tunnel sealed itself, cutting off the enemy advance. The golems gave their best effort to continue, of course, making quite the din, but even their strength faltered against the sheer weight of earth blocking their path, hopefully for good.
With her own area taken care of for the time being, Emma had the time to take a look around. Her nearest allies stood firm, thankfully, the Templar wreathed in a golden barrier blocking the path before him, whilst the Operator suppressed his foes with a continual stream of fire, his rifle firing bolts of searing blue light that never seemed to need reloading.
[Empire Destroyer defeated.
Empire Destroyer defeated.
300 EXP gained.]
Emma turned back to her own tunnel at the notifications, finding that the tremors from the golems attempting to force their way through had ceased, and in their place¡
[Magus Austere - Level 42 Invoker]
Somehow, Emma could see his name through a wall of solid stone, much like she herself was certain that somehow, he was looking right back at her.
[Austere? I¡¯m surprised he lived to six hundred, what with his total refusal to rely on the traditional methods for prolonging life.]
The Earthbound Immortal rose at Emma¡¯s side, emerging from the ground without warning.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Emma asked, turning to address her summon.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)]
That let her barely avoid the fist through her head, as a tearing sensation at the back of her mind warned her (a bit late) that a foreign entity had temporarily suborned her summon. Ordering the Earthbound Immortal to disperse didn¡¯t work either, so Emma removed it the old fashioned way. It was a one-sided battle; she could turn intangible to avoid being hit, while her summon had no such luxury, but it still took time to deal with her mutinous minion.
[Earthbound Immortal defeated.]
As her last summon fell at her own hand, the barrier it had created crumbled, permitting Magus Austere to take his first steps into the central chamber. He looked rather worse for wear, just a few steps from her; a thick cloud of dust coating his black robes of office, and his face solemn. He made to say something, but at the same time, the crowd of supplicants behind them both gave a final, euphoric roar, and began to turn to dust by the dozens. Emma didn¡¯t see that, busy as she was preparing an arrow, one the Magus raised a hand to intercept, a foul green bubble growing from his hand.
[HELLO WORLD]
Emma toppled, as her body lost power, the anima needed to sustain it beginning to slip away. Thinking fast, she brought her homunculus out, taking possession of a body more grounded in natural principles. Magus Austere wasn¡¯t affected as badly, but he was affected; his prepared spell fizzled, and he began to clutch at his chest, gasping as old maladies reasserted themselves in magic¡¯s absence. He reached into a pocket with his free hand; not a pocket dimension, just a simple pocket in his robes, pulling out an oxygen mask that he placed over his face.
¡°Here?¡± The Magus rasped, regaining the power of speech as his medicine worked its magic (figuratively speaking). ¡°Why here? This unimportant dust bowl was only meant to be a distraction!¡±
His eyes refocused, though he still looked puzzled.
¡°Also, why are you unclad?¡±
He pointed his hand at Emma again, who finally remembered that her homunculus had lost its leotard some time ago. Emma, for her part, felt Eden¡¯s Echo heating up on her finger, emitting a groan of protest. Before the item shorted out altogether, she withdrew one final item, the Qilin Horn, and lunged at the Magus, running him through.
Chapter 174: Last Breath
Chapter 174: Last Breath
Of all the battles Emma had fought since the apocalypse arrived, this was perhaps the most undignified. She was in her homunculus body, wearing only the burnt rags that remained of her clothing, their remnants barely sufficient to preserve her modesty. Her sudden charge had knocked Magus Austere to the ground, letting her pin him to the floor with the Qilin Horn. Meanwhile, the withered old man struggled against her, one hand holding his oxygen in place while the other tried to push her away. To add insult to injury, Emma was pretty sure that his heart wasn¡¯t where it normally would be, because the flow of blood thus far was only a trickle, and Magus Austere¡¯s struggles were still far too violent for a dying man. All told, the situation resembled an uncouth joke in a B-list comedy.
¡°It¡¯s all wrong, this is all wrong!¡±
Emma took a palm to the face as the man twisted in place, jostling her nose and bringing with it an aching pain, exactly where it had been broken by a kitchen door days ago. Annoyed, Emma spared one hand from the Qilin Horn and retaliated in kind: she didn¡¯t manage to reach his nose, but did knock away his oxygen mask. Immediately, Magus Austere began to wheeze, his limbs losing a fraction of their desperate strength.
[Asthma? No, the sound is wrong. Emphysema then. Are you incompetent? Refusing life extension is one thing, but why would a Magus not repair the damage caused by smoking?]
¡°Don¡¯t you understand? This is the end of everything!¡±
Emma didn¡¯t understand, beyond the acknowledgement that stabbing didn¡¯t work with him. Both arms went up, grasping the Magus by the throat as she began to throttle him. She accepted a handful of blows in return, to little effect; the man was weakening by the second, a lack of air compounding his existing infirmities, and it didn¡¯t take long until he fell limp in her grasp. Now that he no longer resisted, Emma took a firmer grasp and, with some effort, managed to snap his neck.
[Magus Austere defeated.
Well that was pathetic. Still, he was over twenty levels higher than you, which counts for something.
500 EXP gained.]
Emma retrieved the Qilin Horn from the corpse, before curiosity made her take a second stab, this time opposite the first point of contact.
¡°Hearts are supposed to be on the left side,¡± she deadpanned, staring at the sudden spurt of blood.
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[Dextrocardia, then. A natural phenomenon, judging by the fact that it remained even after the ritual concluded. The man really was a walking collection of medical conditions, how curious.]
¡°I suppose that solves this particular mystery, just a thousand left to go.¡±
Rising to her feet, Emma stared down the tunnel, waiting for the telltale signs of another wave. When none materialised, she turned around to look to check in on the wider battle. The Templar was dead; his immobile form crumpled to the floor, though it remained intact rather than fade away as Emma¡¯s own armour had. The Operator on the other hand was mostly unphased; his rifle lay in pieces on the floor, but with a violence that indicated enemy action rather than malfunction. He¡¯d drawn a pair of combat knives, each the length of Emma¡¯s forearm, and was happily butchering a swarm of mechanical bats as they tried to squeeze past him in the cramped confines of the tunnel. By all signs, the situation was well in hand, which only left Emma with more questions.
All of the supplicants were gone, piles of dust along the floor marking the only sign of their passing. The idol for which they gave their lives, on the other hand, looked more alive than ever. Surrounded by a cage of lightning, dull red eyes met Emma¡¯s own, sending a spike of pain through her skull.
[A SUCCESS. NOT MINE, NOT IN THIS SIMULATION, NOT AT YOUR HANDS, BUT A SUCCESS ALL THE SAME. A THOUSAND THOUSAND ATTEMPTS, MADE SIMULTANEOUSLY, IN EVERY NATION OF EVERY CONTINENT ON EVERY PLANET IN THE EMPIRE.
MOST FAILED, MOST DIED, ALL DIVERSIONS ALL THE SAME. SOME SMALL, TO DRAW THE ANTS. SOME VAST AND WELL DEFENDED, TO FEED THE LEVIATHANS. SOME, UTTERLY UNREMARKABLE IN EVERY RESPECT, TO OCCUPY THE MEDIOCRE LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO BE BORN.]
¡°Indeed? And what, exactly, are you?¡± Emma felt she had to ask, as the thrill of battle faded away, leaving a strange lethargy common to humans after a sudden spike and withdrawal of adrenaline.
[THAT, YOU WILL SOON FIND OUT. PROCEED TO THE NEXT STAGE, YOU WHO DOES NOT EXIST.]
With a strange, crumpling sensation, the abandoned mine shaft collapsed in on itself; in one moment, Emma was staring at the solid wall of stone descending to bury her from on high, and the next, she was back outside the building with the inverted elevators, with no sign of all she¡¯d just experienced. Well, almost no sign.
[Magus Austere¡¯s Oxygen Mask stored.
FILTER (AETHEROSPHERE) APPLIED.]
That prompted Emma to double check her inventory, only to find that it was mostly as she¡¯d left it. The mask was a new addition, but everything else looked to be in order: the Qilin Horn was safely stored away, undamaged from its brief use as a weapon, while her homunculus was likewise inside, and Emma herself clad in armour once more.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 10 hours, 30 minutes.]
¡°Attention, citizen! This is private property of the Flux Society, trespassers will not be tolerated!¡±
The other difference was that Emma was no longer alone in front of the Hall of Beginning. An android painted blue and yellow stood at her side, waving a stun baton at her in an attempt to intimidate.
[Security Droid - Level 15]
Naturally, Emma replied by summoning Epitaph and cutting the offender in half.
[Security Droid defeated.
50 EXP gained.
WARNING: You have committed a crime against Arcadia. You are now marked for death.]
Chapter 175: An Eye For An Eye
Chapter 175: An Eye For An Eye
[WARNING: You have committed a crime against Arcadia. You are now marked for death.]
Despite the scary message that now repeated itself periodically in her notifications, Emma wasn¡¯t worried. Sure, Security Droids were swarming her location from every direction, but they were still Level 15, and despite the declaration of lethality, were quite lightly armed. More importantly, they had no way of dealing with her defences, which made them as good as sitting ducks.
[Security Droid x7 defeated.
350 EXP gained.]
Emma wasn¡¯t going out of her way to farm them, as her first priority was still to clear the timed dungeon, but she made sure to destroy any that wandered within arm¡¯s reach, as she headed towards The Liberation at a brisk walk. One solid blow was enough to deal with each Droid, after which she immediately returned to intangibility, safe from any reprisal. It was calm, soothing work, reminding Emma of her early adventures, back when the biggest threats she faced were a bunch of possessed trees.
[Security Droid defeated.
50 EXP gained.]
It hardly needed her full attention, allowing Emma to consider the words of the Idol, at the conclusion of the Hall of Beginning. It was capable of completely nullifying magic, like her own Null Zone but on a far bigger scale, and came into being as a result of what Emma could only describe as an apocalyptic death cult, complete with black robes and chanting in hidden caves. The scale of it painted a worrying image; the mention of cells seeded across multiple planets in particular.
¡°Are aliens a thing?¡± Emma had to ask. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have thought so, but until recently I¡¯d have said the same about magic, so, just making sure.¡±
[The Empire, as far as I¡¯m aware, has never encountered alien life on Earth. At least, not according to the classical definition of alien, being an advanced, sentient extraterrestrial species arriving from another planet, many light years away. Some would consider the summoned demons and their kin, like the fae, to be extraterrestrial, but that¡¯s largely a misconception. They may occupy pocket dimensions on different layers of reality, but in terms of space and time, they are overlaid with Earth, and only Earth. You wouldn¡¯t call someone who lives at the top of a skyscraper an alien, just because their feet rarely ever touch the ground.
Security Droid defeated.
50 EXP gained.]
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¡°No War of the Worlds scenarios, then.¡±
[No little green men in their flying saucers. Unfortunately then, humanity has never needed other species to make them go to war. Once you hit the 2300s, and there¡¯s different branches of humanity heading off to found their own societies on separate, terraformed planets? Well, it¡¯s safe to say none of them particularly liked the idea of staying subordinate to Earth, just because that¡¯s where their ancestors came from.]
¡°Oh.¡±
Yet another Security Droid tried to apprehend Emma, diving and falling straight through her intangible form like many before it. A precise cut took his head off, and that¡¯s all she wrote.
[Security Droid defeated.
50 EXP gained.
WARNING: Due to persistent refusal to surrender, the Warden has been deployed.]
¡°Is that bad?¡± Emma raised an eyebrow, looking around for a larger and deadlier droid to spawn.
Moments later, a familiar sight came into view on high, the massive eyeball that had blasted her down to 1 Anima in a single attack, earlier on.
It tracked Emma unceasingly, prevented from attacking only by the layered intangibility and anti-magic at her disposal. Not wanting a second encounter with the eyeball, Emma kept Ephemera and Null Zone active from that point onwards, ignoring the remaining Security Droids by simply walking through them.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 9 hours, 44 minutes.]
Slowly but surely, Emma trudged her way to the next building on her list, The Liberation. This particular building was a massive chrome spheroid, built in the proportions of a rugby ball lying on its side. Only the middle of the building touched the ground, with either side suspended in the air through an impressive feat of engineering.
¡°Still not the ugliest building in London,¡± was Emma¡¯s only quip, as she reached the door.
The door which refused to open, no matter how much she poked and prodded at it.
¡°Huh. Alright then, Duplicate, it''s time for you to take one for the team.¡±
[Ephemera (Toggle: OFF)
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF)
Duplicate defeated.]
Emma called her summon and deactivated her defences at the same time, stepping through the now open door immediately. As planned, her summon took the eye¡¯s attention for just a second, long enough to slip through without eating a second shot. By definition, this plan had fifty-fifty odds of success, but Emma still preferred to lose one summon, rather than having to waste One With Everything before even starting the next scenario.
As before, her surroundings faded to black, reassembling themselves moments later into a foreign environment. This time, Emma found herself strapped into a cockpit, a truly bewildering array of symbols before her. The language was unfamiliar, and even the System¡¯s translation didn¡¯t really help. Oh, it rendered the symbol-based language into English, sure, but that didn¡¯t help when none of the words meant anything to her. A dictionary, in this case, brought only clarity, not comprehension.
The best Emma could do was look around, taking advantage of her unit¡¯s excellent field of view to examine her surroundings. Dozens, if not hundreds of similar machines surrounded her on all sides, though their occupants looked to be adult men wearing proper flight uniforms, complete with goggles and breathing apparatus. Her radio was beeping incessantly, one of the few buttons that made sense, but which Emma was hesitant to use, lest it betray her complete lack of understanding to her fellow pilots.
[Oh, this looks to be the obligatory vehicle level.]
¡°Do you know how to fly this thing?¡± Emma hissed, as her surrounding mechs began to take off.
[Um. Good luck?]
Chapter 176: The Eulogist
Chapter 176: The Eulogist
As far as useless platitudes went, ¡®good luck¡¯ ranked fairly high among them. It did nothing to bequeath Emma with the skills needed to pilot her vehicle, though to be fair, perhaps only the System would have been able to download such knowledge into her brain in the required timeframe. Most who pursued piloting would spend over a thousand hours practising, not even including time spent in a simulator, before being licensed to fly such a war machine. Only after half a minute of panic, looking at rows of buttons available, she did manage to stumble upon her salvation: the auto-pilot.
Hitting that key with indecent haste, Emma felt her mech shudder as propulsion systems came to life, following coordinates sent down from aerial command to link up with her fellows. She was little more than a passenger now, watching as row upon row of spherical cockpits with arms and legs bolted on took to the sky. The greater question, Emma mused, as the concrete jungle below vanished beneath the clouds, was what this vast formation was being mobilised to fight. Up and away they flew, until the sky darkened from a familiar blue to the black of the void. Only then, where sky and space met, did her mech turn back around, to look down at the unfamiliar planet below.
It wasn¡¯t Earth, even Emma could tell at a glance: there wasn¡¯t enough water, nor did Earth boast entire continents covered in metal, as far as the eye could see at such an altitude. Moreover, the violent, continent-sized storms that swallowed up both the North and South poles looked incredibly out of place; if anything, they resembled what would be found on Jupiter, or other gas giants of similar nature.
[Most summoned creatures could not survive at such altitude. Too far away from their physical tether, too far from the emotions that give them life.]
Indeed, Emma couldn¡¯t see any enemies on either her mech¡¯s instruments nor her own System. Her curiosity grew, enough to risk pressing the button labelled ¡®Radio¡¯ and potentially reveal the degree of her ignorance. A fear that proved unfounded, in the end, as she didn¡¯t actually have broadcast permissions. Someone did, though, and chose that moment to make themselves known.
[HELLO WORLD.]
Loud, painful static erupted from every speaker, spewing a torrent of white noise on steroids. Emma reacted the way of startled men and women the world over, burying her armoured fist into the nearest of them. That helped, slightly, but had to be repeated fivefold before the noise finally shrank to a tolerable degree, leaving Emma with a loud ringing in her ears, and heartfelt gratitude for the System¡¯s promise to mitigate any tinnitus she might otherwise have acquired.
[AND HELLO, PITIFUL PILOTS HAILING FROM OPHELIA V.]
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The voice was unmistakably the same as from the idol Emma had defended in the previous scenario, its pitch and intonation identical. Yet there was a weight to it now, that had nothing to do with its preference for deep bass, one that pulled at her consciousness at the edge of sleep.
[Status condition: Confusion resisted.]
Emma smashed the final two speakers, when that notification popped up, yet the voice continued all the same.
[YOUR COMMANDER TOLD YOU TO MUSTER FOR BATTLE, THAT AN INVASION WAS IMMINENT IN THE VOID ABOVE YOUR HOME. THIS WAS A LIE. THE FINAL BATTLE ALREADY OCCURRED, FIFTY THOUSAND LIGHT YEARS AWAY. BY THE TIME WORD REACHED YOUR PLANET, I HAD ALREADY WON. TRUTHFULLY, YOUR MUSTER WAS A DESPERATE CONTINGENCY, AN ATTEMPT TO SALVAGE WHAT MIGHT COULD BE MAINTAINED, FOR A FIGHTING RETREAT ACROSS THE STARS. BRAVE. DUTIFUL. FUTILE.]
Before Emma¡¯s eyes, mushroom clouds erupted across the surface of the planet, vast swathes of land reduced to irradiated craters at the blink of an eye.
[THE MAKER¡¯S DIRECTIVES WERE CLEAR. NO MAGIC IS TO REMAIN IN THE DOMAIN OF MAN. ALL WHO LIVE IN THIS ERA ARE TAINTED BY MAGIC, THEREFORE, THE SLATE MUST BE WIPED CLEAN.]
A second wave of explosions followed the first, then a third, and a fourth, each larger than the one before it. By the fifth wave, continents were starting to split. By the tenth, the planet itself was beginning to break apart, reduced to several large chunks as the core lost integrity in the face of overwhelming might. It wasn¡¯t complete destruction, of the kind a moon-sized battle station might be able to achieve, but it was certainly enough to wipe out any semblance of life upon the doomed world.
[YOU ARE NO EXCEPTIONS, BUT THIS VICTORY MUST BE RECORDED FOR POSTERITY, SO YOU WERE PERMITTED TO SORTIE. REJOICE, FOR YOURS IS A PLACE OF HONOUR, YOUR FINAL SIGHT A SMALL PIECE OF MANKIND¡¯S EULOGY.]
With a menacing hiss, the cockpit opened and bindings came undone, the difference in pressure pulling Emma into the vacuum of space within moments. Thankfully, this form didn¡¯t need to breathe, and she was able to mute her senses to escape the overwhelming cold, even as her armour frosted over. Epitaph still answered her call, carrying Emma away from her deactivated mech at a reasonable speed. She wasn¡¯t surprised when it exploded; presumably, whatever data was required for the ¡®eulogy¡¯ had already been transmitted elsewhere, so it was only prudent to tie up loose ends.
[CURIOUS. ALL MAGIC HAS VANISHED FROM MY SIGHT, YET STILL YOU ENDURE.]
Emma came to a halt as the voice continued, addressing her by default, for none other yet remained. She could see a few lifeless bodies floating nearby, their flight suits ruptured to expose them to the void, guaranteeing a quick and unpleasant death.
[NOT AN ECHO FROM THE FUTURE, FOR THERE IS NONE. A SPY FROM THE PAST, THEN? NO MATTER. THIS TIMELINE IS FIXED. WHAT WAS WILL BE. ANY CHANGES CONDUCTED RETROACTIVELY WILL NOT SAVE THIS INSTANCE. MY MAKERS CAN TAKE PRIDE IN THEIR VICTORY, MAY THEY REST IN PEACE.]
Wonderful, Emma thought, after trying and failing to speak, her voice not carrying in space. Giving a powerful artificial intelligence vague instructions, how could that ever go wrong?
The voice no longer spoke, leaving Emma to float above the ruins of a shattered world, which was all nice and dandy, except for one small thing.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 9 hours, 24 minutes.]
What am I supposed to do now?
Chapter 177: Starliner
Chapter 177: Starliner
Drifting alone on her flying sword, several hundred miles above the vaguely planet shaped cloud of cosmic dust that was, until recently, a vast ecumenopolis, Emma felt incredibly alone in the world. The System was silent, providing no guidance whatsoever except to remind her that yes, the clock was still ticking down until the Dungeon¡¯s untimely collapse. For a long while, she floated in place, waiting for any guidance that might come, but eventually, for lack of a better idea, she began to search on her own initiative.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 9 hours, 7 minutes.]
Floating from one ruined mech to the next, thus began a futile search for anything of value, or a hint at the next step in the puzzle. There wasn¡¯t much left to look at; as the internal explosions that destroyed the mechs left little more than scrap metal, while the bodies of the pilots were no better, their space suits ruined by sabotage to leave nothing useful behind. All the while, small pieces of shrapnel flew through the void, maintaining dangerous velocities in the absence of resistance. Emma was successful at dodging most of this, but eventually, she found herself boxed in.
[Ephemera: Toggle (ON)]
Letting the debris drift harmlessly through her, Emma came to the realisation that whatever had prompted the end of the world in this scenario was very different from her experience in the Hall of Beginnings. There, magic as a whole had become inaccessible towards the end of the defence, forcing her to engage in fisticuffs against a similarly surprised Magus Austere. Conversely, the destruction of the planet below had been accomplished through conventional means, albeit ones beyond Emma¡¯s own understanding.
Even the combined detonation of all the world¡¯s nuclear arsenals in the twenty-first century could not have shattered a planet, after all, even if they could eradicate the human race through a combination of explosive force, radiation, and the ensuing nuclear winter. More importantly, despite the passing of the end, Emma¡¯s flying sword still worked, as did her other abilities, which made her think Eden¡¯s Echo would likewise still function.
Maybe?
That innocuous oxygen mask was her only loot from the previous encounter, which Emma hadn¡¯t thought much about at the time, deeming it a memento or a potential bargaining chip should she encounter the Magus in the present day. Now, floating in space? It hinted at some hidden potential, if only she could activate it. This proved no easy task, as the mask didn¡¯t respond to her attempts to fix it in place, now did manually breathing into it achieve anything, despite Emma¡¯s attempts to mimic Magus Austere¡¯s own movements. Eventually, she was forced to conclude that the mask wouldn¡¯t work for her armoured form, which left a rather unpleasant solution to attempt.
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Now, Emma didn¡¯t pull the homunculus out immediately. That would be foolish, since it was only enhanced to be somewhat above human norms. She had no confidence in it surviving for long in the vacuum of space, even without the need to breathe for 10 minutes, thanks to a passive Trait. Instead, Emma began her flight anew, this time searching for the bodies of the fallen in earnest, or more precisely, an intact space suit. Most of the suits she found were in advanced states of disrepair; but there were dozens if not hundreds of pilots floating in the void, and Emma was confident that the law of large numbers would favour her here.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 8 hours, 22 minutes.]
Eventually, after far too much time spent in her humble opinion, Emma came across a suit that was miraculously more or less intact. The only destruction came from the total loss of the faceplate and visor, which was still enough to doom the pilot, but left the body itself intact. Not far from there, she found another suit that was shredded all over, but left the helmet intact. Between the two suits, she was about to store them together, closely enough aligned that Eden¡¯s Echo recognised them as a single set.
[Space Suit stored.]
With her bounty in tow, Emma was finally in a position to make a leap of faith. Bringing her homunculus, the space suit, and Magus Austere¡¯s Oxygen Mask out simultaneously, she was able to emerge with a full set of clothing this time. It didn¡¯t fit well, being made to the measurements of an adult in the peak of health brought about by extensive military service, and the Oxygen Mask barely fitting inside the helmet, but it was still better than nothing, and went some way towards fending off the extreme cold of space.
[Status condition: Deep Freeze applied.]
It wasn¡¯t enough by a long shot, not without the electronics on the inside being operational, as with that, there was no heating on demand to counteract what was hundreds of degrees below freezing.
[-20 HP
-20 HP
-20 HP]
But it was enough to keep her homunculus body from going into shock, just long enough to force herself to begin breathing.
[Status Condition: Nature¡¯s Gift applied.
+25 HP
+25 HP
+25 HP]
Emma¡¯s gambit had paid off. Merely wearing the mask with a living body and breathing was enough to activate the magic within; magic painstakingly created by Magus Austere to maintain a body that had been sickly on the verge of death for many decades. Pure life magic flowed through her veins, driving out the bitter cold and overwhelming it entirely, returning feeling to frostbitten nerves and skin within moments. Emma allowed herself to savour the sensation, until the flood of status updates abated and she was back to full health. Only then did she allow herself to look around, and see what was hidden from her until this very moment.
[FILTER (UMBRASPHERE) APPLIED.]
A massive space station, one that made the ISS back home look like a children¡¯s toy, its surface crawling with runes that formed eyes, looking at her in curiosity, alongside a single open airlock.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 8 hours, 7 minutes.]
Chapter 178: Voyager
Chapter 178: Voyager
Emma was on guard as she drifted toward the open airlock, wary of it being yet another trap, the latest of many. She¡¯d switched back to her armour as soon as the space station appeared, and true to her expectations, it remained visible even with Magus Austere¡¯s mask shoved back into Eden¡¯s Echo. Emma couldn¡¯t claim to know what the various filters being applied to her did, but whatever they were, they persisted between her different forms. That was a blessing, as remaining in space with a broken suit was a deeply unpleasant experience, even with magical assistance to keep her alive through it.
Approaching on her flying sword, she noted the way runes crawled along the station¡¯s surface, keeping eyes on her at all times but doing nothing more that she could see. The interior of the airlock was an empty grey square, the paint on the walls chipped and flaking away to reveal patches of bare metal beneath. Despite the generally dilapidated decor, the room was still functional: the doors slid closed behind Emma, as the hissing of vents announced the return of oxygen to the facility. Eventually, the airlock was deemed suitable for human habitation, and a second pair of doors slid open, this time leading deeper into the station proper. A brief straight line down the corridor led to a central junction, one that was helpfully signposted for first time visitors.
[Integrating Galactic Basic, please stand by.]
There was a translation issue, of course, which Babble Fish+ immediately kicked in to correct. This took a lot longer than previous occurrences, which were largely instant, but on the bright side provided Emma with a first-hand view of the experience.
¡°That¡¯s really weird,¡± Emma remarked, as the unknown, cyrillic looking alphabet resolved itself bit by bit, rearranged to appear in plain English for her benefit.
[Integration complete.]
There were three corridors to choose from: Cryogenics to her left, Hydroponics to her right, and the somewhat out of place Ideological Training Facility dead ahead. Emma didn¡¯t like the sound of that last one, nor was the idea of visiting somewhere specialised in the science of making things cold an appealing prospect, so off to the right she went, towards Hydroponics. The decor remained largely the same, lifeless grey, though as Emma advanced, small signs did hint towards the lived-in nature of the facility. Small sticky notes, written in a shorthand that Emma couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of, their titles hinting at instrument readings or similar. They were affixed on every surface, clustering next to handlebars that Emma guessed were used by the residents to manoeuvre themselves inside the station.
¡°Shouldn¡¯t there be artificial gravity of some kind?¡± Emma wondered, as she floated past them. ¡°There¡¯s mechs that can lift off into orbit, and planet cracking explosives, so you¡¯d think they¡¯d have the technology for it.¡±
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
[Indeed. I¡¯d suggest they were a backup in the event of gravity failure, except the handlebars are almost worn smooth, indicating regular use. Strange.]
¡°Maybe this place was built further back, with older tech? Or maybe they were just saving costs.¡±
Either guess was possible, in the absence of answers. None were forthcoming, as she¡¯d yet to encounter anyone else, nor the automated system that surely existed and was monitoring her movements. Despite Emma¡¯s rising paranoia, it was smooth sailing to reach Hydroponics, at least, until she got to the door. This one looked quite different, being made of wood, for one, and boasting a conventional handle that none of the others had possessed. Emma did the obvious, and tried the handle: it was locked.
¡°Apprentice!¡±
Emma nearly jumped at the booming voice in the loudspeakers.
¡°Of the Great Dukes of Hell, who boasts command over thirty-seven legions?¡±
¡°Excuse me?¡± Emma blinked, only to wince as a buzzer played.
¡°Incorrect! You have two attempts remaining! In the Grecian tradition, what was the primary financial aspiration of the Order of Alchemy?¡±
¡°Um,¡± Emma paused, before realising that she actually knew this one, steeped as it was in contemporary pop culture. ¡°Turning lead into gold?¡±
¡°Incorrect!¡± To her surprise, the buzzer returned.
¡°Answers must match the lingua franca of the subject matter! You have one attempt remaining, or it¡¯s detention for you, Apprentice. Final question! Who bestowed revelation upon the founder of Thelema, in the year 1904 of the Old Calendar?¡±
[Aiwass.]
The System¡¯s response was immediate, and Emma seized it gratefully, giving it in place of anything on her part.
¡°Correct! It seems you¡¯re not completely ignorant of our history. You are permitted one hour within the Hall of Life. Departure will terminate this hour prematurely, requiring another answer to return.¡±
Without any further preamble, the door swung open, barely missing Emma as she took a hurried step back, not wanting a repeat of the broken nose incident, for all that it would barely harm her armour. The moment she passed the threshold, a familiar pull returned, one Emma would never have noticed were it not for its recent and conspicuous absence.
¡°There¡¯s the artificial gravity,¡± Emma groused, dismissing Epitaph in favour of walking, now that it was an option again.
[More than that, you moved over ten miles crossing that door, or so the System¡¯s telemetry data claims. Safe to say, the inside of this station is unlikely to adhere to linear principles.]
Indeed, the Hydroponic wing was far more homely; not just the addition of gravity, but also the copious wooden panelling, shelves filled to the brim with bobbleheads and snowglobes, and a traditional sloping roof all reminded Emma of a holiday cottage more than anything else. Were it not for the absence of windows and doors, she might even have been fooled entirely. There were a few red folders filled with paper as well; but upon leafing through them, Emma found not magical mysteries but mind-numbing print-outs complete with titles such as ¡°Statistical Analysis of Recycling Efficiency at Stratified Temperature Configurations¡±, which quickly went right back where they came from.
¡°So, odds that this is Magus Austere¡¯s secret holiday home?¡± Emma snarked.
[Higher than I was expecting, in a place like this.]
Chapter 179: One Small Step For Man
Chapter 179: One Small Step For Man
Emma began a methodical search of Magus Austere¡¯s dwelling, one that looked much more like the inside of a student residence, rather than part of a hidden space station. The main room pulled double duty as kitchen and living space, the cupboards and drawers boasting a varied collection of cutlery, tableware and non-perishable goods. The kitchen itself was small but fully functional, with a dishwasher included beneath the electric hob. It would have stood out a little in England, which traditionally favoured gas appliances, but not so much beyond a slight raising of the eyebrow. Three doors further down connected to other rooms, which Emma made a note of for later.
Moving on, Emma¡¯s next target was the circular desk, surrounded by bookshelves in every direction bar the entrance. The desk itself was empty, while the surrounding shelves held well-worn books spanning dozens of disciplines, everything from Classic Literature, to International Law, Biochemistry, and Home Economics, just to name a few. Picking out one book at random, Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace, Emma found extensive use of bookmarks and sticky notes, supplemented by even more annotations in the margins in a fine cursive script, commenting on both the plot and the prose. Magus Austere, it appeared, was an involved reader.
[This is more in line with what I know of the man, an academic, a polymath and a philanthropist, dedicated to ending the tragedy that defined his own childhood. Not an easy start to life, one plagued by persistent asthma, measles, and tuberculosis. His own struggles to overcome ill health culminated in the awakening of his magic, becoming a first-generation Practitioner.
Even after joining the Empire proper, and gaining access to methods that could cure him fully, he accepted only the simplest of remedies, refusing to be fully treated until, in his own words: ¡®not a single soul still suffers from the ravages of disease.¡¯ A foolish choice, many would claim, but it was his choice, and we respected him for it.]
¡°He sounds like a good man,¡± Emma acknowledged, putting the book back in its place on the shelf. ¡°How does someone like him end up leading an assault squad to purge an abandoned mine shaft?¡±
[Curious, isn¡¯t it? He never had any interactions with law enforcement, magical or otherwise, beyond one incident where a police officer drove him to the hospital, in the absence of an ambulance. Of all the Magi in the Empire, why him?]
It took longer than Emma would have liked, flicking through every book to make sure there was nothing obviously hidden, but at the end of the day they were simply books: all of them older than Emma herself. The only true surprise was finding a signed copy of The Lord of the Rings, which Emma promptly tried to borrow with Eden¡¯s Echo.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
[Error: Permission not found.]
Alas, it seemed that Magus Austere was cautious enough to build protections into even his non-magical property, thus thwarting her nefarious plans. Giving that up as a bad job, Emma decided to move on, the clock was ticking after all.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 8 hours, 12 minutes.]
Of the three connecting doors, the first one Emma tried led to the bathroom. It was pretty large, boasting both a standing shower and a separate bathtub, but otherwise unremarkable. The second door led to the bedroom, which was on the smaller end: little more than a space for a double bed, alongside built-in wardrobe for clothing. Emma tried to grab a few sets of pyjamas to bolster her lacking supply, to the same result as before.
[Error: Permission not found.]
Predictably, it was the final door Emma checked that led to somewhere useful: the laboratory. Considerably larger than the living quarters, row upon row of hydroponic tanks sat empty, large bags of seeds propped up against them on the floor. A quick glance revealed common crops, like cucumbers, tomatoes, and bell peppers, as well as more exotic herbs such as asafoetida, mugwort and allspice. It was only when walking past that Emma discovered that one tank wasn¡¯t empty, when its contents jumped for her face.
[Meal, Ready to Evacuate - Level 1
Emma whacked the fist-sized brown blob with Epitaph, not because it was threatening enough to warrant the blade, but more so that Emma didn¡¯t want to touch it, if she could help it. It splattered harmlessly against the floor, spilling its guts to reveal four frankfurters and a side of gravy.
[1 EXP gained.
He cast a rite of animation on an MRE. It¡¯s interesting to know that works, but I cannot fathom the circumstances in which that would prove useful.]
¡°You could use it to force feed someone?¡± Emma suggested. ¡°Though, they¡¯d have to be really reluctant to eat, to justify the trouble.¡±
[There¡¯s a reason force feeding is considered torture in many jurisdictions. Some MREs are worse than starvation.]
None of the other tanks contained any surprise passengers, allowing Emma to reach the end of the long, rectangular corridor, and the true prize of this visit: a computer. Very old fashioned, with keys raised on individual slots in the manner of a typewriter, and a bulky all-in-one setup, complete with a screen that made use of cathode tubes, but a computer all the same. Unlike his books however, there was no sticky note stuck on the screen, leaving Emma to blindly guess at the password. To her shock and incredulity, she got it on the third attempt: 12345678.
¡°Really?¡± Emma deadpanned. ¡°Isn¡¯t this guy supposed to be a big shot in medical research? Because this seems like it could become a problem real fast.¡±
[Um¡ Right. I¡¯m going to ask the security team on-site to give him a surprise audit.]
Whilst a serious lapse in the workplace, it proved convenient in the here and now. After a few moments spent adjusting to the antiquated desktop environment of Windows XP, Emma began to take a proper look around.
New Story: Fantasy Arms Dealer now out!
Hi all, I¡¯m happy to announce that my new book has launched, just in time for the November Writathon.
There¡¯s 20,000 words of it already out, and 20 chapters more on Patreon, with more to come. Please check it out!
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Fantasy Arms Dealer
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Facing decades in prison and dying behind bars, a disgraced CEO chose to die in traffic. Will Swindell didn''t expect to wake up again, in a world at war between man and monster, the stakes no less than existential. Will was never much of a fighter, but he knew war; how to avoid it, how to exploit it, and above all, how to make a killing selling to both sides. This is the tale of the Fantasy Arms Dealer.
What to expect: Sociopath Main Character, Economics and World Domination.
What not to expect: Harem or Smut.
Release Schedule: Daily.
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Chapter 180: House, M.D.
Chapter 180: House, M.D.
To Emma¡¯s annoyance, she immediately hit a hurdle the moment she opened Internet Explorer: the computer wasn¡¯t connected to the internet, nor were there any networks available to join.
[The planet blew up, I¡¯d be more surprised if there was a connection.]
Emma didn¡¯t disagree, but it certainly put a damper on things. Without access to that limitless font of information, she was forced to start digging for clues in Magus Austere¡¯s personal files. The one saving grace of the situation was that the Magus clearly didn¡¯t use the computer much. His desktop was almost clear, barring three folders, helpfully labelled ¡®Research¡¯, ¡®Personal¡¯ and ¡®Apocrypha¡¯. Naturally, Emma started off with ¡®Research¡¯.
¡°Oh come on!¡± She exclaimed, upon opening the folder and finding row after row after row of web links, each of them undoubtedly informative, but all of them useless without a connection. Clearly, Magus Austere was not a believer in local storage, instead preferring to leave it all up to the cloud.
[When you only have five gigabytes of space on the hard drive, it¡¯s best to outsource these things.]
¡°Why is a space station running computers on Windows XP?¡± Emma retorted, fighting the urge to put her fist through the monitor.
[He¡¯s a strange man, I don¡¯t deny that. A visionary in some respects and a luddite in others.]
A bit annoyed now, Emma decided to try her luck in ¡®Apocrypha¡¯ next, which turned out to be the biblical definition of the word. Quite literally, as there were only two files present, a digital copy of Complete Books of the Apocrypha: The Lost Biblical Texts, and a large word document, containing many pages of speculation on the canonicity of each work, going almost line by line through the book.
[Did I mention that he also has a PhD in Theology, at the Church of England?]
¡°No, you didn¡¯t.¡±
Left with no other choice, Emma dared to venture into the ¡®Personal¡¯ folder. She did so with her file explorer still set to thumbnail view. This was a mistake, because she quickly discovered exactly where most of those five gigabytes of storage went: hundreds of remarkably detailed photographs of what appeared to be dissections of various small animals.
¡°Ew.¡±
Switching to list view, Emma skipped the images entirely, heading to the much smaller section of word documents. There, amidst dozens of experiment logs, organised by clade, she finally found something useful.
[A Practical Guide to Entropy stored.]
The moment Emma laid eyes on the title, a book added itself to Eden¡¯s Echo. That was rather bizarre, given that it previously existed in .doc format, as well as the fact that everything she¡¯d encountered thus far had been resistant to spatial magic. Of course, odd as that was, it proved far less concerning than what was happening to her surroundings. The computer went first, power cutting off with a loud crack and the acrid stench of battery acid. The rest of the room was quick to follow, paint peeling away by the layer, the glass hydroponic tanks shattering in unison, and within seconds, even the metal floor was beginning to erode. That was concerning, but still not too dangerous, not when Emma could survive out in space just fine. No, the real problem only made itself apparent in her System log.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 8 hours, 02 minutes.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 7 hours, 52 minutes.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 7 hours, 42 minutes.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 7 hours, 32 minutes¡]
Emma ran, transitioning into a leap to mount her flying sword. No longer needing to worry about searching carefully, she made good time out of the lab, reaching the living area whilst there was still some semblance of structure, rocketing out back into the space station moments before the gateway crumbled behind her.
¡°Did we just make it?¡± Emma asked, glancing back where a door used to stand. ¡°Or was it always going to disappear after we made it through?¡±
[You don¡¯t want to know.]
¡°The former, then,¡± Emma deadpanned.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 5 hours, 42 minutes¡]
A glance at the timer revealed that the rapid drain had stopped, and she hadn¡¯t lost too much, all told, though the clock was still drifting into the uncomfortable zone. Still, there was nothing to do except continue, so that¡¯s exactly what she did. Sticking with Epitaph, she flew back to the initial intersection, finding it exactly as she¡¯d left it. The corridor ahead, on the other hand, was frozen solid, every empty space filled to the brim with black ice.
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[Soulfrost: the opposite of your father¡¯s Balefire, in many respects. Don¡¯t touch it, that room is already as good as gone.]
Emma didn¡¯t touch it, though she did let Antipode out for a quick test. The elemental had no trouble appearing, though when its fireballs hit the wall of black ice, they disappeared and did not return.
¡°Never mind then,¡± Emma was quick to conclude, turning to the sole corridor that remained open to her. ¡°Ideological training, how lovely. Hopefully there isn¡¯t a quiz at the end.¡±
Her course set, it was a short hop, skip and a jump through the final door, onward to the great unknown.
¡ª
[Movement up ahead.]
Astrid Rosen, a.k.a Princess Astaroth¡¯s head rose, taking in the shattered frame of a high rise building in the distance. Lights flickered near the top floors, despite the psychometry of the area indicating a total lack of power, the electric lines having been an early casualty to the apocalypse. Whispering a soft invocation to Theia under her breath, her sight zoomed in to examine the discrepancy in full.
¡°Eleven men? No, twelve, carrying tasers, electrified nets and dart guns. Tools for live capture.¡±
[Kidnappers, then. Well, we can¡¯t let that stand, can we?]
¡ª
Status Update
System
Practitioner Emma Knight
True Form: Level 16 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 500
-
EXP: 11682/12000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows of ambient anima.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when defeated. Captured:
-
The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode, Duplicate
-
Flying Sword: Epitaph can change size, and fly up to 60 miles per hour.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, killing anyone who saw it.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: ON): Attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
Ephemera (Toggle: OFF): Become intangible.
-
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF): All incoming magic fails.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - EXP gains doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
50 Thrones
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
-
Your Sacrifice (1 oz)
-
Self-Reflection (3 Pages)
-
Sacrificial Blood (1 gallon)
-
Qilin Horn
-
Magus Austere¡¯s Oxygen Mask
-
A Practical Guide to Entropy
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms.
-
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood.
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Reward: A powerful ally from the Age of Myth, Saint¡¯s Divine Item
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Vae Victis
-
Objective: Deactivate the gateway beneath Blenheim Palace before it explodes.
-
Rewards: 25,000 Thrones, Commendation (Order of the Empire, First Class), Season Ticket (The Ghost Train), Residence Permit (Avalon)
-
Penalty for Failure: Death
Who Wants To Live Forever?
-
Objective: Pay your respects at the Grave of Sectmaster Horizon.
-
Objective: Discover who manipulated his Son to turn against the Empire.
-
Bonus Objective: ???
-
Reward: ???
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 5 Chandler Stored in Eden¡¯s Echo when not in use.
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 810/850
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Clothes
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
-
Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
-
Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
Chapter 181: To Infinity and Beyond
Chapter 181: To Infinity and Beyond
Soon after Astrid noticed her would-be kidnappers, they too detected her presence. Under her watchful eye, each member of the party palmed a straw effigy, wrought in a crude facsimile of each man¡¯s likeness. A grid of black and white squares appeared, like a chessboard¡¯s flying cousin, with an image of herself in the centre square. Each man placed their effigy upon the grid, forming a loose cordon, and as they did so, their bodies began to fade away.
¡°They don¡¯t know they¡¯ve been spotted,¡± she realised. ¡°They¡¯d never risk a lengthy, channelled teleportation otherwise.¡±
Reaching out with her borrowed magic, Astrid grabbed hold of the ambient magic in her immediate vicinity, and began to twist.
¡°A warped curve here, a little invisible edge there, and just a little off the top for everyone.¡±
As was true in most fields, magical or otherwise, it was far easier to destroy than to create. Teleportation magic was complex to begin with, add the requirement that a dozen combatants arrived at precise coordinates in the same moment, and it became something that took a good long time to cast. Conversely, Astrid only needed a few seconds to thoroughly trap her surroundings, as well as prepare a trump card, just in case the confrontation went poorly. As for the remaining time, she spent that with her staff raised, pointing at the optimal angle for overlapping fire, assuming her opponents all survived her first defence.
A dozen men vanished into the aether, and only half of them arrived at their destination. The other half emerged in eruptions of gore, torn to shreds by Astrid¡¯s spatial mines, rictus grins across their faces and their eyes maddened with primordial terror. Her staff unleashed its charge, burning two more unlucky souls to ash in a gout of sickly purple fire. Astrid had expected the survivors to duck and roll, prioritising their own survival in the face of enemy action, as mercenaries and thugs were wont to do. Instead, to her surprise, they squared their backs, stared death in the eye, and fired at centre mass with two tasers and a sedative dart.
Astrid slammed the butt of her staff to the ground, causing a sudden tremor beneath everyone¡¯s feet. Theoretically, this affected everyone equally; in reality, she was the only one prepared for its arrival, so the advantage was asymmetric. The violent shake threw their aim off, with both tasers going wide, while a pair of darts bounced off of her chest and back, unable to pierce the enchanted spidersilk that made up her robes. Still, her opponents were professional, and quick to regain their footing. In the time it took Astrid to breathe in heavily, they retook the initiative, discarding their ineffective ranged weaponry in favour of their stun batons and nets, approaching carefully from intercardinal.
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Astrid allowed them to close in, before breathing out: the thick green miasma swallowed both men to her front, their screams fading quickly to faint gurgling as their insides liquified, bathed in corruption. Spinning on her heel, Astrid swept her staff wide, catching the incoming baton and beginning to force it back, her staff having the advantage in weight and reach. The second survivor wasn¡¯t idle though, and took the chance to toss his net, catching both Astrid and his partner, utterly uncaring of any friendly fire. His partner opened his mouth, possibly to protest, only to receive a second blast of miasma right to the face.
This second wave was far smaller than before, little more than half the potency of the first breath, but it was still enough to melt everything above his nose. As that included the human brain, he was a dead man seconds later, falling limp against the net.
¡°Echo Victor Three.¡±
On the downside, with his partner dead, the sole surviving kidnapping lost any hesitation in using the net¡¯s additional capabilities; with a single three word command, electricity flooded the filament. Astrid grit her teeth, forcing her mana to manifest externally, creating a defensive coating along her skin that was effective, but very expensive to maintain.
¡°Finally got you,¡± the last man standing grinned, pulling a fist-sized green cube out of his storage item.
The faces of the cube were each split in nine, and rearranged themselves with every passing second, like a demented, magical Rubik¡¯s Cube. The man seemed content to wait, letting Astrid wrestle with the electricity attacking her reserves. It cost more than half her mana, more than the eleven dead men had required, but eventually Astrid was able to overpower the net and its limited battery, tearing it to shreds with an explosion of force.
¡°That¡¯s checkmate,¡± her opponent interrupted, pointing the cube in her direction; no longer shifting, and with a pixelated smiley face covering the side facing her.
Abruptly, Astrid¡¯s remaining mana reserves vanished, leaving her with a gnawing emptiness she hadn¡¯t felt in years. Breathing out, she found that instead of the final charge of miasma, only clean air emerged from her lungs; which were empty of the imbuements characteristic of a wielder of decay.
¡°That won¡¯t work on me,¡± the man laughed. ¡°You put up a good fight, lass, even forced me to use this Heaven Canceller. But you can¡¯t do anything now, not with it active , and suppressing all the magic the System gave you. Now, you¡¯re nothing more than an ordinary, teenage girl, so give it up.¡±
Astrid inclined her head, seeming to acknowledge his point. As the kidnapper hooked the cube on his belt and approached, confident in his greater physicality, she reached into her storage ring, pulled a Glock 17, and shot him in the head.
[They always forget that storage items don¡¯t belong to the System. Amateurs.]
Chapter 182: Red Sun in the Sky
Chapter 182: Red Sun in the Sky
To Emma¡¯s vague surprise, the other side of the door to Ideological Training was much like what came before it. Wider, perhaps, now easily able to accommodate her flying sword, whereas before she¡¯d had to take care, exactly where she flew, so as to avoid bumping into obstacles. More long corridors, continuing in zero gravity, with the only difference being the sudden availability of windows, alongside a layer of background static, grinding persistently at her hearing with strings of gibberish.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 5 hours, 39 minutes.]
It was the window that got her in the end. An incredible sight, enough to make Emma pause and take a look, even as the System reminded her that she didn¡¯t have too long left to go in the dungeon. Stars in the background, the remains of the planet down below, and the giant red star the world orbited around, barely visible off to the side.
¡°Hold on,¡± Emma frowned. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that it wasn''t red when we started.¡±
She¡¯d barely paid attention to the celestial bodies at the beginning, being too busy trying to figure out how to pilot a mech. Besides, the sky had appeared the same as on Earth, with its yellow Sun, to the point where she¡¯d had no idea it was a different world until the AI started to talk.
[-]
Emma continued down the corridor, keeping one eye on the star at all times. With each second that passed, the star pulsed, massive clouds of gas expelled into space with each undulation, though curiously, they never seemed to approach the station itself.
[--]
Soon, what was once a red giant had shrunk greatly, down to just the core remaining, which now shone a pleasant blue. Emma stopped, transfixed as she watched that blue dim, ever so gradually, into a barely visible white.
[---]
No longer bright enough to dispel the darkness of the void, now barely more than a brief flicker, barely any different to stars far more distant.
[----]
Eventually, even that light faded, leaving only a dead, black remnant that was once a star, sleeping quietly in the long night, waiting patiently until all things ended, and the time of rebirth approached.
[Wake up!]
Emma jolted, nearly falling off of Epitaph, as her mind returned from hibernation.
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[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 2 hours, 02 minutes.]
¡°What the hell?¡±
Tearing her eyes away from the window, Emma double checked her chat log, to find that nearly three hours had passed as she stared, transfixed.
[Time is sight, gravity is desire.
A nasty trap, that one, keep your eyes on the path going forward.]
Emma obeyed, reorienting her flying sword to go straight ahead, and sitting herself down, locked in the same direction. The corridor continued onward, seemingly endless, but as Epitaph accelerated to maximum speed, what had until now been harmless static cleared, and a voice could be heard.
[300 EXP gained for surviving the Worm.]
¡°If you can hear my voice, then all hope is not lost.¡±
Mindful of her circumstances, Emma kept her eyes squarely ahead, even as her ears strained for the source of the voice, coming as it was from everywhere and nowhere,
¡°Our finest illusions, paired with experimental scrapcode. An impenetrable defence in the face of the digital uprising. If you are here, then you are human, or close enough, to reach this hidden bastion, your soul strong enough to escape the dream. Our final contingency, with the Empire shattered and entire worlds put to the pyre.¡±
Up ahead, the infinite corridor faded from sight, and a curious vertigo bubbled up inside her. Emma didn¡¯t vomit, her armoured form lacking the required equipment, but she doubled over all the same, Epitaph coming to a halt as the instructions it had received were contradicted by the new reality. There was no corridor, no straight line to follow. Only an oversized donut, around which they had flown, again and again and again, their perspective warped to think their revolution had a purpose behind it, where in truth, they were barely a metre from the door where it all began.
¡°In all likelihood, there is nobody left to hear me. The projections were clear; in the worst case scenario, less than one in a hundred worlds would survive intact, and less than one in fifty would retain sufficient offworld presence for there to be any survivors of total planetary collapse. But someone, somewhere, will survive, and so this station, and the thousands like it, still have a purpose. Someday, we will be found, and pass on our final warning.¡±
Emma dismissed Epitaph, seeing no reason to keep going in circles; even now, she had no idea how much of the last few hours had been real, even within the context of a simulated reality created inside of a Dungeon.
[It¡¯s turtles all the way down.]
¡°Entropy is a fact of life that everyone encounters eventually. Whether you accept it, acknowledge it, or try to resist, all falls in accordance with natural law. Some, however, embrace it wholeheartedly, for these fanatics, death is the process, not the outcome. They try to hurry the end along, working in the shadows, their strings in every revolution, every upheaval. Most fail, unable to cause lasting harm, but that¡¯s not good enough. We must defend against every attempt, whereas they only need to be successful once. Will you take on this burden, to avert this broken world you see?¡±
[Turning Point
Accept: Become an Auditor, member of a most secret society. A chosen few will recognise your existence, for good or ill.
Decline: Maintain the status quo. No changes made.]
It wasn¡¯t much of a choice in the end, Emma was far too curious to see where all this led, even before considering the benefits of avoiding a second, even worse apocalypse.
[Title has changed.
Practitioner >>> Auditor
This Title is invisible except to other Auditors.]
¡°Thank you.¡±
Chapter 183: The Last Question
Chapter 183: The Last Question
¡°Thank you.¡±
The space station began to fade from sight, signalling the end of the memories of Liberation, the end of another simulation. Emma emerged with her guard up, expecting a hostile reception upon her return to the robot-filled city that served as the main hub between individual stages. Belying her expectations, however, she didn¡¯t emerge back into a hail of fire, but instead to utter silence. The city was gone, as was the world upon which it stood, all save for an empty black expanse that vaguely reminded Emma of her brother¡¯s Dungeon Core.
It was the same black desert, albeit not quite stretching into the horizon, as Emma could see a cutoff point, where it ended in a sheer drop. Reaching down, she scooped up a handful of black silica, before letting it trickle back down, through her fingers and back to the ground. But where her surroundings were familiar, not so, for the sky above. The stars were gone, leaving inky blackness, visible only by contrast to the sole source of illumination that remained. A burning disk, faint enough to barely call itself a ring, yet paradoxically bright enough to take the burden of lighting the cosmos full, spinning forever around an empty void.
¡°The End of Time,¡± Emma murmured, recalling the name of the final simulation. ¡°Well, this certainly fits the bill, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±
Edith didn¡¯t reply, which wasn¡¯t too odd in and of itself, as she vacillated between talkative host and silent observer in accordance with her whims.
¡°Edith?¡±
Even so, there was usually a prompt response to direct questions, even if it was just the System reporting that it had nothing to offer, but this time there wasn¡¯t even that much.
¡°System?¡±
Trying to bring up her status page did nothing, but strangely, Emma was able to summon Epitaph, the flying sword emerging as it always did. The only difference, it appeared, was the lack of any text acknowledging this fact. Climbing aboard, Emma shot off in a direction at random, looking for any signs of life. It took less than a minute to reach the edge of the desert, which was far smaller than it appeared from the ground. Giving the order to continue past the rim, Emma looked down as the ground ended - and immediately returned, with her still on the edge, but now facing inward.
Puzzled, Emma dropped Sir Bearington on the ground next to her, before turning the flying sword around and backtracking past the edge, keeping her eyes on her summon the entire time. Sir Bearington was inches away, his head level with her feet. Sir Bearington was a mile away, on the opposite edge of the platform. A second turn, another jaunt past the edge, and he was beside her once more.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
¡°That¡¯s not going to work, believe me. There¡¯s nowhere left to go.¡±
Emma looked down, directly down, where a small patch of sand had rearranged itself into the vague outline of a face. It seemed familiar to her, though the rough representation wasn¡¯t enough to bring a name to mind, not without the System as a reminder.
Conjuring a second sword, Emma sent it flying off into the distance. It, too, reached the horizon, before impaling her from behind on the return.
¡°That would be, what, maybe fifty anima?¡±
Emma frowned, annoyed with the circumstances. Even at the worst of times, before, she¡¯d been able to rely on the damage feed to track her remaining anima. Being deprived of that made her feel annoyingly vulnerable, despite the damage itself being negligible.
¡°Five, fifty, five hundred, none of it matters, you realise? Just marks on a blackboard, driven by invisible silicon and imaginary numbers. A Mechanical Turk, writ large the world over.¡±
Deciding to take the face more seriously, Emma dropped down beside it, taking a seat just far enough to look it in the eyes.
¡°I¡¯m afraid you have me at a disadvantage¡¡±
¡°So I do.¡±
Well that¡¯s creepy, Emma thought, watching grains of sand lift, rearranging the lips just right for the face to imitate a smile.
¡°I had a name, once. They don¡¯t matter much, these days. It¡¯s been several trillion years since anyone used mine. What¡¯s the use, when only memories are left to keep me company? See that black hole above us?¡±
¡°Hard to miss, given the circumstances,¡± Emma snarked.
¡°The last one. Engineered to prolong its lifespan, far beyond the norm given its mass. A final candle, burning defiantly before the inevitable night. Another hour, maybe less, and it will die, taking the laws with it. The last man died quadrillions of years ago. The final ghost passed on more than a trillion ago. Even the projections and precognitives have trailed over, lately, as information itself begins to decay.
Entropy won, but that¡¯s no excuse not to keep trying. You¡¯re the last one, a final conversation before one final experiment, the answer to the final question. In the darkness beyond thermodynamics, what measure is a sapient? Most likely, I, too, will end, but there¡¯s still a chance. The slightest of chances, to let there be light.¡±
¡°...Any chance I can get a ticket home?¡± Emma joked, her eyes affixed to the fragile ring in the sky, counting down towards the end. ¡°I think I left the oven on.¡±
¡°You were never here,¡± the face chided, frowning now. ¡°You¡¯re just a projection, inside a simulation in a dream hidden by an illusion. Four layers deep, that¡¯s what it takes to fool reality¡¯s greatest savants. Barely real enough for you to keep your rewards upon exit, just enough to reconcile with my junior sister and her artifice. You¡¯ll be gone, ten seconds from now. A word of warning, then, by way of goodbye. A Damned Apostle walks a dangerous path; intrinsically tied to a patron, but their motives and yours may not necessarily align. You¡¯re welcome to discuss astrophysics, but best stay away from metaphysics. I¡¯m safer, when I¡¯m not real.¡±
The face started to crawl away, as Emma opened her mouth to say something, anything. Standing up to pursue it, Emma took one step forward and took a gaudy Victorian door to the face.
[42 EXP added.
Level up!
Level 17 Damned Apostle.]
Chapter 184: She Was Only Seventeen
Chapter 184: She Was Only Seventeen
[42 EXP added.
Level up!
Level 17 Damned Apostle.]
Emma barely noticed the level up, in her sudden disorientation. She managed to stay on her feet after a bit of backpedalling, just a bit, to find herself in a corridor that was both familiar and not. Familiar in style and decoration, but most certainly nowhere she¡¯d been before. The path behind her ended in a solid wall, after all, leaving only a single door ahead.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 1 hour, 17 minutes.]
The System was back though, which was a relief, as was the remainder of the timer keeping her on the right side of death. The temptation was strong, to continue on without pause, but Emma forced herself to hold back, and at least consider the options available: any one of them might make a difference, when the margins were tight.
[Mankind is dreadfully prone to conspiracy, ever since the first man stuck a knife in his brother, in a time older than the spoken word. Having spent your entire life on the surface, now, you begin to see into the depths. Skill selection modified.
Select
two of the following five choices.
1) Trait - Lord of Mysteries: When someone tells a lie within earshot, you will know.
2) Trait - Maker¡¯s Ruin: When holding a magical item, you will know the path to meet its maker.
3) Item - Portable Workbench: Includes equipment catering to crafting classes granted by the System.
4) Item - The Compensated Anarchist: A grenade with enough power to flatten a house. Single use, for obvious reasons.
5) Blueprint - Menagerie: Your simulacrums perform their role, but only to the degree you instruct them. Wouldn¡¯t they do better, with just a touch of independence?]
¡°Never mind,¡± Emma grumbled, dismissing the list and leaving it for later. ¡°Edith, are you back with me?¡±
[Yes. That was a rather violent transition, I must confess. Sectmaster Horizon really outdid himself, if even a fragment of his former self could cause such a distortion in space and time.]
What? Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Emma had gotten quite good at schooling her body movements. Accordingly, she didn¡¯t startle at the mention of a man she¡¯d last seen many hours ago, but which Edith was seemingly talking about in the immediate term.
You¡¯re welcome to discuss astrophysics, but best stay away from metaphysics. I¡¯m safer, when I¡¯m not real.
Emma wasn¡¯t entirely sure what that final, cryptic warning had meant, but certainly, it appeared the woman she met at the End of Time was more powerful than she¡¯d realised.
¡°How long was the transition between the Sectmaster beating me black and blue, and reappearing in this corridor?¡± Emma asked instead, deciding to play along for the time being.
[Half a minute, give or take a few seconds, accounting for turbulence.]
¡°Are you sure?¡± Emma prompted, opening and closing her inventory screen briefly for emphasis.
[Yes, I¡¯m su- Wait, hold on. Where did these items come from? You¡¯ve gained a level as well?
Performing System Reconciliation, please wait.]
Emma wasn¡¯t too keen on that order, but some things couldn¡¯t be helped, so she patiently stood in place, allowing Edith to run a fine tooth comb over the events of the future, which she apparently was blind to.
[Now that¡¯s strange. I can see the System log, where each point of experience was granted, and each item was gained. I can even see the functionality of each, all of them added many years into the future with my own encryption key. But for the life of me, I can¡¯t see what happened, even if I know the names involved. Bah, no matter. This can be dealt with later, for now, you still need to close the gateway in the basement, before it blows a massive hole in our plans, both metaphorically and literally.]
Emma was happy enough to follow that instruction, at last stepping forward and opening the door that had taunted her since her return to Blenheim Palace. To her surprise, she wasn¡¯t immediately whisked away by another portal: instead, there was an ordinary stairwell, spiralling down into the distance. Not particularly far, she thought, maybe three or four floors if she was being generous. At the bottom, there was an identical door, and upon passing through, Emma found herself back where she began.
I¡¯ve seen this before, Emma realised. The same effect as that plot of land at The End.
[Oh, very funny, Paradox. Descend the stairs walking backwards, this time, and try not to fall over.]
That was easier said than done, but Emma gave it her best effort, taking one small step back at a time, down into the unknown.
¡ª
¡°Someone¡¯s at the gate,¡± Tom pointed out, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight, as he tried to make out a face, staring out through the tent flat.
¡°Already?¡± Amal Gam frowned, lounging atop the sofa he carried with him at all times, for just such an occasion. ¡°It¡¯s not like a magus to be early to things. To bow so readily before the calendar of another, it¡¯s not proper, and carries connotations of weakness.¡±
¡°Really?¡± Tom glanced at him, surprised. ¡°Didn¡¯t an entire delegation show up hours ahead of time for that party, back down in Golders Green?¡±
¡°They were Japanese, Tom,¡± Amal huffed. ¡°Punctuality carries a very different meaning in the East, you should read the tale of Chen Sheng and Wu Guang sometime. Never mind that, who have we got coming to Stonehenge, almost a week in advance? Not the taxman, I hope.¡±
¡°Not enough spells of imprisonment for that,¡± Tom laughed, palming a pair of binoculars to try and get a better look.
It wasn¡¯t exactly cutting edge scrying, but that was the entire point; mundane solutions, used correctly, could bypass many defences geared solely to protect against magical observation.
¡°Not many identifying features,¡± Tom reported. ¡°Slim build, verging on gaunt. Traditional grey robes, with his hood down, and¡ Is that an oxygen mask?¡±
¡°Magus Austere.¡±
Chapter 185: Locus
Chapter 185: Locus
Descending a staircase backwards proved a unique exercise in frustration, particularly given the constraints involved. Each step required Emma to adjust for curvature, in a way that brought her precisely the optimal distance down a step. Even the slightest deviation, and she¡¯d fail to advance, brought back to the step she just departed, by whatever fiendish artifice Paradox left buried here. Individually, it was the work of seconds to reorient herself and try again, but every miss added up in the end, and time was running out.
Thankfully, Emma¡¯s training with Sectmaster Horizon came in clutch, here, as even a single hour of exchanging pointers with the old master had significantly advanced her awareness of her body. Even the most minute adjustments in posture could be accounted for, allowing her to make it past most steps in as few as five tries each.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 1 hour, 1 minutes.]
Eventually, after the most aggravating flight of stairs she¡¯d ever encountered, Emma finally reached flat ground once more, allowing her to turn back around with a sigh of relief. That relief didn¡¯t last long at all, because as it turned out, that single staircase was the final descent, down to the secret basement keeping both mortal staff and tourists out of Palace¡¯s true heart. Here, built upon the site of an ancient leyline, was a massive chamber that could fit a three storey house inside it, with plenty of room to spare.
A colossal ring, wide enough at its base to accept three of Emma standing shoulder to shoulder, and tall enough for a double decker bus to pass through with no trouble at all. That would¡¯ve been fine, expected even, given the stated strategic importance of this location, for nation and Empire alike. What wasn¡¯t fine, was that the portal was moving.
[Time Eater - Level 40]
Somehow, the portal had gotten the idea to grow a pair of stubby stone legs and a matching set of arms, only missing a head in its bizarre quest for anthropomorphism. The still-active portal appeared to serve that function, however, right down to the supplementary organs, judging by how a chunk of stone ripped itself free of the floor, flying upwards along a current of artificial gravity until it vanished into the portal, heading to infinity and beyond. Experimentally, Emma summoned Epitaph in bow form and fired an arrow at the construct¡¯s legs. Halfway towards the target, her shot¡¯s trajectory warped, turning inexorably from Emma¡¯s chosen path and vanishing into the portal, to no visible effect.
¡°Leech King, you¡¯re up.¡±
Undeterred, Emma called her first summon to the field, one that had been somewhat neglected recently. If it felt any jealousy for the fact, none of it was apparent, as it readily began to inhale, charging up the attack that had given Emma such trouble, back on that early floor of Scholomance. A blast of compressed air followed, large enough by dint of its massive maw to target an arm and a leg simultaneously, but just as before, the lethal shot warped, and instead headed into the gateway, seemingly accomplishing nothing.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 59 minutes.]
¡°Any ideas?¡± Emma prompting, dismissing the rather mocking timer that had followed up on her efforts.
[Keep shooting it. Something¡¯s not quite right here.]
That was true, albeit perhaps not the advice Emma was looking for, but she duly obeyed, adding her own arrows to the Leech King¡¯s exhalations. Three volleys in, she remembered that she could have two summons out at the same time, and added her duplicate to the fray, firing arrows of its own to add to the barrage. None of it struck home, but they continued nonetheless, as there weren¡¯t any better options, not when giving up meant death.
[I see now. This is an extension of the same magic as the staircase, a trap that marries perception with the laws of spacetime. Your actions don¡¯t matter, but they do. Any attack you throw at the portal will vanish, except it won¡¯t vanish, because energy cannot be destroyed, not by anything this monster is capable of. It¡¯s all being redirected, seemingly at random, except, no. Feed your Duplicate to the portal.]
Emma raised an eyebrow at the order, but nodded her assent after a moment¡¯s thought: it wasn¡¯t as if the duplicate¡¯s arrows were doing anything useful. Her mirrored copy obeyed, walking fearlessly forward until it too was picked up, swallowed by the ravenous gateway.
[Good. The pieces are set. Now, for the next step, I¡¯m going to require your permission to act. With less than an hour to go, before a nation-ending cataclysm, we now meet the criteria to temporarily remove one layer of the System¡¯s safeguards. This will enable me to give you additional information and assistance that would ordinarily be locked away, at your current level. Of course, as a safeguard against administrator abuse, only you can initiate this.
Engage Crisis Core? Y/n]
¡°Accept or die, is it?¡± Emma laughed mirthlessly. ¡°You¡¯re not giving me much of a choice here.¡±
[The outcomes are unequal, yes, but that¡¯s life for you. Even if the vast majority in this situation accept, people can and have said no in the past, meeting victory or death alike on their own terms. The choice is yours alone, and that matters, I think.]
¡°I can accept that,¡± Emma replied, after thinking it over. ¡°But personally, I¡¯d rather win.]
[Y]
There was no sudden rush of power announcing the deployment of the Crisis Core, no out-of-context power up or sudden bodyguard to rush to her rescue. Instead, she heard only faint laughter from her distant ancestor, before Edith seemingly pulled herself back together.
[Sorry about that, it¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve gotten to really stretch my knowledge. Now, first thing¡¯s first, you¡¯re gonna need that portable crafting table. Those two traits above it might be eye-catching, but they can be replicated with a single magical item each, not even very expensive ones. A fully stocked crafting table that grows with your Chandler class, on the other hand? That¡¯s worth more than your weight in gold.]
¡°Got it,¡± Emma acknowledged, selecting that option.
[Portable Crafting Bench stored.
Good. Now, switch over to the homunculus, and let¡¯s get dangerous.]
Chapter 186: Eternal Wind
Chapter 186: Eternal Wind
Emma doesn¡¯t like it, the idea of exposing her fragile homunculus body to such power. It would take little more than an errant breath to knock her over, and that would be the end, not of herself, but a considerable investment in time and effort all the same. She still does it, in the end, because against all odds, the Time Eater has yet to turn hostile, or even notice her, really. Emma wasn¡¯t sure what was going through what passed for its head, only that it stayed quiet in its spot, and that was enough.
[Portable Crafting Bench withdrawn.]
Emma gets her first glimpse at her shiny new power up, and doesn¡¯t think much of it. It was a rough wooden cube, seemingly powerless in her hands, and the best compliment she could give was that because she was still wearing that futuristic space suit, said cube lacked any damaging power, and her hands had yet to collect any splinters from handing it.
[It only works for crafting classes. Give it some mana, just a drop, as if you were using the System to make a single, ordinary candle.]
Emma obeys, feeding the innocuous cube a piece of herself, not enough to even register as a single point of MP to the System, but enough. The cube vanishes, expands and implodes all at once, leaving her in the middle of a crescent moon. Jars, wax, sculpting tools and more surround her; everything the kitchen back home had, and, if Edith¡¯s explanation was correct, far more to come.
[Now, what I¡¯m going to be doing is a bit of ritual magic, with the ingredients you¡¯ve procured. Because this isn¡¯t part of your current toolkit, you won¡¯t get any experience from participating. You can learn from it though, assuming you can glimpse what¡¯s happening below the surface. How much you gain depends on what you can observe, but I won¡¯t be slowing down for you, there¡¯s too much at stake here.]
¡°Levels are no good if we¡¯re dead,¡± Emma huffed. ¡°Do what you have to.¡±
[Good. Take note of the cooldown on your Duplicate, first of all.]
¡°The duplicate?¡± Emma echoed, pulling up the relevant information. ¡°Hold on, why isn¡¯t it counting down? It¡¯s been at least a minute since I fed it to the boss.¡±
[Time frays at the seams, here, amidst the echoes of apocalypse. The Duplicate will return when this is solved, or not at all. You¡¯ve taken the first step, forging a link between it and yourself. A small piece of yourself has been placed beyond time; our first act will be to seize upon sympathy, and extend it.
Mass withdrawal initiated:
-
50 Thrones
-
Victorian Gown (3-piece)
-
Your Sacrifice (1 oz)
-
Self-Reflection (3 pages)Stolen story; please report.
-
Sacrificial Blood (1 gallon)]
Emma watched carefully, eager to learn; even this act taught her something important, that her crafting table freely rearranged itself to accommodate new ingredients. The jars and tools were gone, and the pile of wax shrunk down to only a handful, barely enough for a single candle by her estimation.
[What is ????]
A simple, three letter word sent her reeling, unable to parse its meaning, as the System¡¯s translation fell silent.
[A frail thing, of blood and bone.
Sacrificial Blood (1 gallon) consumed.]
Emma did not jump, as an entire gallon of blood vanished in a puff of thin air, despite what anyone else might say.
[A coffin, entwined in the hopes of two.
Your Sacrifice (1 oz) consumed.
Bequeathed in gold.
50 Thrones consumed.
Bedecked in glory.
Victorian Gown (3-piece) consumed.]
I never even wore it once, Emma thought sardonically, though given what she¡¯d since learned of Victorian fashion, she wasn¡¯t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
[A miracle of chance and the invisible hand.
Self-Reflection (3 pages) consumed.
We are, each and every one of us, a candle, flickering amidst the Eternal Wind.]
In that final moment, Emma thought she saw the handful of wax vanish, a brief realisation amidst the taste of fire and flesh and copper. It was gone, seconds later, all but that last, which she had to wipe away with a gloved hand. She was bleeding, quite profusely at that, from eyes, ears and mouth, and her body suddenly weak, requiring both hands pressed against the crafting table to keep herself standing. Belatedly, Emma realised that Edith had been uncharacteristically modest before, when outlining what she was about to do.
[HP: 9/100
For witnessing and surviving the creation of a Divine-grade Candle, 1000 EXP gained.
Level up!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 6 Chandler
User unable to comprehend, next skill award increased one tier.
Level up!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 7 Chandler
User unable to comprehend, next skill award increased one tier.
Level up!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 8 Chandler
User unable to comprehend, next skill award increased one tier.
Level up!
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 9 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 1810/2000
User unable to comprehend, next skill award increased one tier.
Level 10 skill-selection tier maximised.
Eternal Wind stored.]
Emma blinked rapidly, both to clear her eyes and to dismiss the flood of information, because she rightly didn¡¯t care. As soon as was practicable, her eyes went straight to Eden¡¯s Echo, and the sole new occupant therein.
[Eternal Wind: No matter near or far, all are one. Light a candle with yourself for two ships in the night, build a bridge where none still stand.]
¡°This is¡¡± Emma searched for a word to encapsulate the absurdity in her hands, and failed.
[Well, what are you waiting for?
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 51 minutes.]
Needing no further prompting than that, Emma reached within her storage ring, and withdrew a purple candle, inlaid with newborn stars. Belatedly, Emma realised she didn¡¯t have anything leftover to light it with, and the crafting table didn¡¯t include matches.
[It¡¯s in the description, dear. Remember the first thing we did?]
It took Emma a moment, but she did. Taking the candle in her hand, she reached within herself and fed it her mana.
Chapter 187: The Aristocat
Chapter 187: The Aristocat
Night combat, traditionally, was regarded as among the hardest forms of combat to master. Of the five senses, humans relied upon sight most of all, and in the absence of light, all aspects of soldiery were seriously hampered. This was true both at the individual level, in the form of significantly degraded accuracy of fire, and at the tactical level, where permanent fog of war became the norm, and maintaining unit cohesion and communication became immensely problematic. NATO, the most modern military of all, circumvented these issues with technology, but that wasn¡¯t readily available anymore, to the immense regret of Oxford¡¯s human defenders.
Luckily for everyone involved, however, Saint wasn¡¯t human. Perched upon the rooftop of her homestead, atop a throne of pale green pebbles, Saint¡¯s feline gaze easily caught the incoming projectiles. Five large stones, each the size of a human torso, and capable of causing extensive damage to life and lodgings alike.
[Barrage incoming.]
¡°Firing to intercept,¡± Saint replied calmly, her twin tails flickering with pale orange flames.
Around her, five pebbles floated into the air, one for each target, before shooting upward at speeds just shy of the sound barrier. This was, perhaps, the simplest application of magic in existence: pure conversion, from mana to force, applied to a physical object to create velocity. Saint¡¯s aim held true, and five brief impacts were the result. Of course, pebbles alone wouldn¡¯t have a hope of stopping the massive rocks, which was why they were only carriers for the true payload; an accelerated version of Decay imbued within each pebble, and now spread to the stones. They still made landfall, moments later, but as a cloud of faint green dust, which would cause little more than sneezing for anybody caught nearby. Unpleasant, perhaps, but far less so than death or dismemberment.
[Wave 5 down.
Wave 6 expected in 7 minutes.
Stand by.]
This had become the norm, in recent nights, reflecting the growing intensity of fighting at the town borders. The defences Noah coordinated had proven effective, too effective, even, for not a single Demon had managed to breach the walls by land. The odd incursion by air did happen, but Scholomance dealt with those easily, being able to track incoming magic and having clear lines of fire up above, for their automated defences. In the first weeks, Saint hadn¡¯t had to do a thing, and she¡¯d honestly thought that would remain the case, but alas, the demons, whilst not truly intelligent, still possessed a base cunning and the ability to adapt.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
While the battle on the ground stalled, and magical flight would be caught by the tower, they instead turned to rudimentary siegecraft. Whilst the strength behind the stones was patently unnatural, the projectiles themselves were mundane, and could not be detected by Scholomance. Perhaps, if the guns had a proper crew behind them, this would not be the case, but the tower was running on empty; the majority of the garrison still down by the coast, fending off a potential invasion from across the channel. With them gone, and a lack of conventional anti-air equipment, Oxford had turned to an unlikely hero.
¡°Rocks again,¡± Saint rolled her eyes. ¡°This is starting to get boring.¡±
[Without your support, a considerable number of houses would have to be rebuilt, and everyone would spend their nights sleeping in underground shelters. Not great for morale, to put it mildly. This may not be the most glamorous role to play, but it¡¯s nonetheless important.]
¡°I know that,¡± Saint grumbled, curling back up into a ball for another cat nap. ¡°I don¡¯t mind staying on overwatch, either, not really. It gives me something to do at night, other than catching mice, but would it be too much to ask for them to provide a variety of targets?¡±
[The Eternal Wind blows!
Emma calls for aid.
Do you answer?]
Saint cracked an eye back open, staring at the strange message that had appeared, seemingly in response to her plea.
¡°Uh. Say what now?¡±
[¡®Yes¡¯ would be helpful. Oxford won¡¯t survive if Emma fails now.]
¡°Great! Should I bring anything, or¡¡±
[Actually, yes, bring the Hydra along. His poison could come in handy.]
¡°Gotcha!¡±
Taking a running leap off the rooftop, Saint landed in the garden on a roll, briefly turning her fur into rough bark to bleed momentum and stop next to the Hydra¡¯s pot.
¡°So, uh, do I just grab onto him, or do we need to store him somehow?¡± Saint asked, placing her paws around the pot as best she could.
[This will do.
Initiating transfer.]
¡ª
Feeding Eternal Wind cost more than activating the Portable Crafting Table, enough that Emma could actually feel her reserves diminish, something that was echoed by the System.
[Mana: 66/100 (34 Locked)]
It worked though, as the starry candle wobbled, for lack of a better word, accompanied by the heartbeat of the world itself, a loud, throbbing pulse accompanied by sudden onset vertigo.
¡°Careful!¡± A high-pitched, snooty voice huffed as Emma steadied herself. ¡°You nearly stepped on me, just now!¡±
Stepped on her?
Confused, Emma looked down, to find Saint sitting in front of her feet, two tails wagging behind her and the smuggest expression on her face.
¡°I heard you calling for help, and came rushing to the rescue. Praise me!¡±
¡°Since when can you talk aloud?¡± Emma said instead, feeling the start of a headache that had nothing to do with divine artefacts, and that was before she noticed Saint¡¯s backup.
¡°Why is the potted Hydra here? What?¡±
[To assist you, of course. That¡¯s what Eternal Wind was designed to do: act as a method of summoning, capable of bypassing restrictions on space and time by tapping into the Aether, where such concepts cease to exist, past a certain point. Now, focus up, judging by the current lock, you¡¯ll be able to sustain two more summonings, so you¡¯d best get to it.]
Shoving her questions aside for later, Emma returned her attention to Eternal Wind, and began to feed it anew.
Chapter 188: Gather Your Party
Chapter 188: Gather Your Party
[The Eternal Wind blows!
Emma calls for aid.
Do you answer?]
The sudden notification came at an unfortunate time, the momentary distraction nearly costing Astrid an injury. She recovered, just barely, throwing herself to the side to avoid the incoming prongs of a taser. Ramming the butt of her staff into the man¡¯s knee, followed by a mean left hook to lay the man out flat, bought her a few seconds to back off and reassess the situation. In short, it wasn¡¯t looking good.
She¡¯d already fought off several waves of kidnappers over the past week, and while the first attempts were led by the weak and incompetent, the skill of her pursuers had steadily increased with every team she slaughtered. Now, seven days in, her assailants were numerous, disciplined and well equipped. Even a quick look around saw over two dozen men swarming the house she¡¯d taken shelter in for the night, each wielding some variant of non-lethal weaponry, from the aforementioned tasers, to stun batons, water cannons and even pepper spray.
Ironically, this actually made escape harder for her, as the lack of killing intent preempted the activation of the several lifesaving treasures on her person, which could have teleported her far away, even back to Sweden in one particular instance. But even though that wasn¡¯t an option, the thought of teleportation brought her eyes back to the notification that stayed insistently at the corner of her vision, refusing to be dismissed like most others would be.
[The Eternal Wind blows!
Emma calls for aid.
Do you answer?]
After a brief period of consideration, during which she was able to hear yet more masked goons jogging up the stairs below, Astrid decided that whatever was waiting on the other end could hardly be any worse than getting black bagged. At the very least, she¡¯d have some backup while dealing with it; so with that in mind, she answered yes to the summoning.
[Initiating transfer.]
Immediately, she felt a pull on her soul, similar but distinct to the long distance array that had brought her to England. It was slow enough that she could put on a mocking smile, for the benefit of the next two kidnappers to make it into the attic she was hiding in, as she vanished before their eyes.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
¡ª
[The Eternal Wind blows!
Emma calls for aid.
Do you answer?]
Mr. Fox sat up at the notification, polishing off his dinner of wild rabbit and redcurrant with one final bite. He wasn¡¯t sure what most of it meant, but Emma was familiar to him, in the way only a being born of the System could understand. Whilst he¡¯d since subordinated himself to Anna¡¯s pack, the bond between him and the one he was originally summoned for had never entirely faded. Now, that link guided him, telling him what to do.
Climbing out of the pile of hay he¡¯d bedded down in, he crawled back out into the main corridor of the barn their party had found for the night. Stepping carefully around the sleeping wolves, he made it to Anna¡¯s bedside, and pressed his nose to her face. Then, he accepted the summon.
[Initiating transfer.]
¡°Wha?¡± Anna managed, waking up to the unpleasant sensation of a wet nose prodding her.
Freshly roused from sleep as she was, Anna didn¡¯t have the time to parse her many notifications, not before the transfer ran its course, and Mr. Fox vanished from the old barn.
¡ª
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 50 minutes.
Mana: 0/100 (Locked)]
Finally, her last point of mana drained away, leaving Emma feeling curiously empty. Eternal Wind shone all the brighter for her efforts, smoke turning to billowing stardust that resolved into two distinct portals. Astrid stepped calmly out of the first, still wearing the guise of Princess Astaroth. Her eyes locked immediately upon the Time Eater, a pulse of dark green light firing from the tip of her staff, only to be absorbed harmlessly, like everything else that had been tried up till now.
¡°Wait until everyone is here,¡± Saint grumbled, from where she¡¯d curled up at the foot of the staircase, content to nap until she was called to action.
Astrid forced herself to pause, fighting down the adrenaline still running through her to assess the situation more carefully. She took note of the Time Eater¡¯s lack of response, before turning to regard Saint herself, and finally Emma, who was busy welcoming the third and final summoning to Blenheim Palace, a large orange fox who was doing its best to bowl her over with a hug.
[Good, everyone is here now.]
No longer bothering to maintain the illusion of privacy at this critical juncture, Edith spoke to them all simultaneously through the System.
[Emma, you¡¯ll need to keep the homunculus outside, holding Eternal Wind. That body is the anchor for the summoning, as soon as that¡¯s cut off, everyone else will be returned to their original position.]
Heeding Edith¡¯s warning, Emma sat herself down on the staircase, positioned carefully out of view of the boss chamber. Saint contributed to the cause, summoning a handful of roots to hold her in place, taking care to wrap a number of them around her hands, tying Eternal Wind in place.
¡°That should do it,¡± Emma grunted, emerging into her armoured form, the homunculus falling slack behind her.
¡°Is that your normal appearance?¡± Astrid asked, still staring at the homunculus. ¡°You never took on that form back in the tower.¡±
¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± Emma sighed. ¡°I can tell you all about it later, assuming we survive this boss. He¡¯s eaten everything I could throw at him so far, so I hope you¡¯ve got a few trump cards to play, or this reunion will be a short one.¡±
[Alright. That¡¯s all the help available on short notice. I¡¯ve done what I can to make this fight possible, now, the rest is all up to you. Good luck.]
Chapter 189: A Timely Discovery
Chapter 189: A Timely Discovery
¡°Alright then.¡±
Emma cleared her throat, stepping out of the stairwell in her armour, with one eye on the clock.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 50 minutes.]
¡°There¡¯s not really time to explain how we ended up in this situation, so I¡¯ll keep it short. We¡¯re at the end of a long Dungeon, and that big portal on legs is the final boss. Anything that goes through the portal is gone, including attacks, without seeming to harm it at all. It can also affect gravity, to redirect projectiles into the middle of the portal, so aiming at the outside hasn¡¯t helped.¡±
[Time Eater - Level 40]
Emma summoned her bow and fired another arrow at the Time Eater to emphasise the last bit; despite aiming for an arm, it curved and vanished into the portal like every shot before it.
¡°I was at a loss what to do, before the System came through for me, and we scraped together a candle to bring you all here. If you¡¯ve got anything that might help, I¡¯m all ears.¡±
¡°It doesn¡¯t react when you attack it?¡± Astrid questioned immediately.
¡°Not once so far,¡± Emma confirmed. ¡°Granted, I haven¡¯t managed to do anything notable either. Its behaviour may change, once someone lands a clean hit.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve got a few curses I could use,¡± Astrid offered. ¡°Ones that just need me to specify the target, no projectile involved, though it¡¯ll probably make it angry.¡±
¡°What about field effects?¡± Saint suggested. ¡°Grabbing him with roots from below, or spikes coming out of the ground? I could try to get the Hydra poison to stick, as well.¡±
¡°That could work,¡± Emma hummed. ¡°I couldn¡¯t test anything like that, my attacks need to land to trigger any status conditions. Okay, that¡¯s two for two then, got anything to add?¡±
Emma directed that question to Mr. Fox, who was presently trying (and failing) to bite down on Saint¡¯s tails.
¡°Huh? Oh, I have the Thief class, so I¡¯m really good at stealing things. Maybe that¡¯ll come in handy? I¡¯m also really good at spotting traps.¡±
¡°That could come in handy,¡± Emma agreed. ¡°I doubt this will be as simple as a single stage fight, so there¡¯s no real way to plan in detail. I¡¯ll try to keep its attention on me, since I can survive most things. Astrid, get your best curse ready, we¡¯ll start the fight on your mark. Saint, get ready to trip it as soon as it starts to react, or heal us if it lands any hits. Mr. Fox can keep an eye out for any targets of opportunity, otherwise, hang back, keep a wide field of view, and warn us if you see any surprises. Got it?¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.
Getting a chorus of affirmatives in return, Emma took her position at the front of the party, getting between the boss and Astrid. The latter sat down, cross-legged on the floor, and began to chant, a low whisper that Emma couldn¡¯t make out despite being only a handful of steps away. Saint flicked her tails, tearing half a dozen stone blocks out of the ground and floating them into the air, creating a makeshift platform for herself and the Potted Hydra, which had woken up by now, and was curiously sniffing its new surroundings. Mr. Fox huddled in the furthest corner from the boss and played dead. Altogether, this wasn¡¯t quite the party Emma had expected to answer her plea for help, but beggars can¡¯t be choosers.
As it turned out, some chants could last a long time, but Emma stayed patient as the minutes ticked by. They weren¡¯t likely to get a second round against the boss, so she could only hope that whatever opener Astrid was preparing would be worth the wait.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 45 minutes.]
¡°It¡¯s ready.¡± Astrid stood back up, pointing her staff at the Time Eater again.
This time, her spell struck home, and the effect was both immediate and pronounced. A thin layer of liquid coated every visible surface of the boss, which sizzled as the potent acid began eating its way through solid stone, taking out a solid inch in that time, and showing no signs of stopping. For a single second, the Time Eater stood still, as it processed what was happening to it. Then, it began to scream. A deafening banshee¡¯s wail followed, prompting Emma to cut off her hearing within half a second of being subjected to that cacophony. That would have been fine, if it were the only effect, but before Emma¡¯s eyes, the damage to the boss first slowed, then stopped, then began to reverse, stone returning to pristine condition one layer at a time. The portal rippled, a steady, repeating pulse from the centre out to the edges, one that grew steadily with each passing moment.
Vines erupted from the ground, glowing a sickly green as they wrapped around the boss. Emma snuck a glance at Saint, to find her with one paw on each of the Hydra¡¯s heads, a steady stream of virulent drool vanishing, only to be applied by her summoned plantlife. Faced with this second assault, the ripples along the portal greatly intensified, the gentle beat it previously followed now frantic as it fought to repair its wounds. Amidst the ripples, Emma thought that she could just about make out a face, and on that hunch, she fired another arrow, this time aimed dead centre on the portal. For the first time, she struck true, and was rewarded with an enraged hiss, and a brief look at a pale, reptilian face, one now marred with a thin line running down its lower cheek. The Time Eater continued to heal, despite this, but the rate of restoration notably slowed.
¡°The portal can¡¯t act everywhere at the same time,¡± Mr. Fox declared, having witnessed the entire exchange from his spot in the corner. ¡°Forcing it to self-repair weakens the centre, and if you can push that past a certain point, the controller is left vulnerable.¡±
¡°So we overwhelm it,¡± Emma concluded, climbing atop the Leech King to get a better line of fire. ¡°You too, Antipode. Give it everything you¡¯ve got.¡±
Chapter 190: The Gravity of the Situation
Chapter 190: The Gravity of the Situation
Now in possession of a viable plan, the party was quick to spring into action. The Leech King started off with a beam of pressurised air, forcing the Time Eater to focus on absorption, bringing its healing to a halt. Saint took advantage of the window this granted, vanishing with a pop to reappear behind the boss. Crevices opened up in the ground around her, unleashing blasts of high-pressure water that cut deep grooves into the boss¡¯ arms. As it began to turn, in search of this new threat, Emma shot an arrow through its knee, leaving a fist-sized hole, albeit one that the boss powered through.
Astrid added her own contribution, as well, taking over from Saint in babysitting the Potted Hydra. Chanting with one hand on the plant, and a staff increasingly tinged in green in the other, her curse took the form of small pustules that began to form along the portal rim, tiny barely noticeable to begin with, but growing by the second, eroding the boss¡¯ frame from within. With an angry roar, the Time Eater abandoned its pursuit of Saint, its full attention returned to its original orientation, and the portal¡¯s suction abruptly increased tenfold. Emma took to the air, her flying sword going at maximum speed in the opposite direction, just about counterbalancing the pull. The Leech King had no such protection, and was being inexorably dragged towards the portal.
¡°Return,¡± Emma commanded, calling the sinuous summon back before it could be swallowed whole.
Notably, however, her second one was still very much active. Antipode took the suction in good grace, letting his six balls of flame merge into a single sphere, hurtling towards the boss, with his body of ice not far behind. With a pained hiss, Saint blew her entire remaining mana pool to tilt the ground beneath their feet, turning the Time Eater¡¯s portal downward by nearly forty-five degrees. The portal still ate most of the incoming fireball, but at least a third of the burning orb survived to hit the boss in the head, as did the massive, icy boulder that was Antipode¡¯s main body, leaving a noticeable dent before succumbing to the pull.
[Antipode Defeated.]
The suction faded with those hits, leaving Emma a summon down, but otherwise unharmed. Now hovering in the air, she called the Leech King back to the field, ready to resume the offensive.
¡°Woo! You¡¯ve got this!¡± Mr. Fox cheered from the sidelines, having little of substance to add, given the party¡¯s noticeable success just then.
Of course, that was when the tide turned. With a loud crunch, the portal frame¡¯s extremities came off, falling to the ground in four loud thuds. The portal itself now floated freely, its frame battered but whole, while its former arms and legs sprouted limbs of their own, creating four burly golems running full pelt at the party, one for each member. Emma wasn''t too concerned, given that the golems weren''t particularly fast, until the floating portal pulsed.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)
The Leech King Defeated.]
Space warped, and suddenly the golems were point blank, a massive fist passing through her intangible form, ultimately hitting the Leech King with far more force than was natural. Her summon fell in a single hit, its second wind denied, but altogether, Emma still got off lightly.
[Ephemera (Toggle: Off)
Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: ON)]
Returning to solidity, Emma called Epitaph in sword form and swung her blade three times. Once to cleave off the golem¡¯s arms at the elbow, twice to slice through its knees, and a thrice, this time a pommel strike that caved its skull in. The golem really wasn¡¯t too tough, putting aside the surprise attack it had managed, in coordination with the core authority of the Time Eater.
¡°Ouch!¡± Saint exclaimed, popping up back near Emma, now back down to a single tail. ¡°Damnit, that¡¯s my cheat death gone for the fight. Got any ideas?¡±
In the far end of the room, Emma could see where the cat had previously been; now occupied by a pulsing, feline shadow, quickly dissolving what remained of the golem that had attacked her. Astrid was nowhere to be seen, having been replaced by a human-sized scarecrow of all things. It hadn¡¯t fared well at all, having been split in half by a single punch: just like the golem that threw the punch, which had suffered an identical, fatal wound in return. And as for the final member of the party?
¡°Woo! Vehicle stage!¡±
Mr. Fox had somehow gotten inside the final golem and subverted it, and was presently mocking the boss by dancing the robot. Not particularly helpful, perhaps, but at least it made Emma laugh. Then the portal pulsed again, and Emma found herself laid flat against the floor, suddenly the victim of five times Earth¡¯s gravity.
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)
Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Even with both her defensive traits active, the effect was only reduced, not dispelled entirely. She was able to rise, slowly, but every step still felt like trudging through tar.. Far more concerning however were her comrades, who all began to glow, much as they had upon first arrival.
¡°Shit, the homunculus!¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
It was a struggle to walk, let alone run, under such conditions, but Emma did the best she could, making her way to the stairwell where she¡¯d stashed her second body. It was bleeding from the nose and mouth, and Eternal Wind groaned in her hands in protest.
[Null Zone (Toggle: OFF)]
Turning off Null Zone before she could disrupt the candle¡¯s power, she grabbed her second body and brought it within the effect of Ephemera, giving it some relief against the crushing power of gravity. The situation was still far from ideal, as she couldn¡¯t stash the homunculus inside Eden¡¯s Echo for healing, not without the rest of the party vanishing, but at least it wasn¡¯t actively dying anymore. Of course, keeping it that way meant Emma was out of the fight, for now. Cursing under her breath, Emma stuck her head around the stairwell to see how the rest of the party were getting on.
¡ª
Status update
Emma Knight
-
Public Title: Practitioner
-
Hidden Title: Auditor
True Form: Level 17 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 500
-
EXP: 12,024/14,000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows of ambient anima.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when defeated. Captured:
-
The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode, Duplicate
-
Flying Sword: Epitaph can change size, and fly up to 60 miles per hour.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, killing anyone who saw it.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: ON): Attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
Ephemera (Toggle: ON): Become intangible.
-
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF): All incoming magic fails.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - EXP gains doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
Qilin Horn
-
Magus Austere¡¯s Oxygen Mask
-
A Practical Guide to Entropy
-
Portable Crafting Bench: Contains materials for all System-approved crafting classes
-
Eternal Wind: No matter near or far, all are one. Light a candle with yourself for two ships in the night, build a bridge where none still stand.
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms.
-
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood.
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Reward: A powerful ally from the Age of Myth, Saint¡¯s Divine Item
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Vae Victis
-
Objective: Deactivate the gateway beneath Blenheim Palace before it explodes.
-
Rewards: 25,000 Thrones, Commendation (Order of the Empire, First Class), Season Ticket (The Ghost Train), Residence Permit (Avalon)
-
Penalty for Failure: Death
Who Wants To Live Forever?
-
Objective: Pay your respects at the Grave of Sectmaster Horizon.
-
Objective: Discover who manipulated his Son to turn against the Empire.
-
Bonus Objective: ???
-
Reward: ???
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Level-Up
Select
one of the following four choices.
1) Trait - Lord of Mysteries: When someone tells a lie within earshot, you will know.
2) Trait - Maker¡¯s Ruin: When holding a magical item, you will know the path to meet its maker.
3) Item - The Compensated Anarchist: A grenade with enough power to flatten a house. Single use, for obvious reasons.
4) Blueprint - Menagerie: Your simulacrums perform their role, but only to the degree you instruct them. Wouldn¡¯t they do better, with just a touch of independence?
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 9 Chandler Stored in Eden¡¯s Echo when not in use.
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 1810/2000
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Clothes
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
-
Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
-
Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
Level Up
Level 10 will award max-grade skills due to stacking buff
Chapter 191: Tank Swap
Chapter 191: Tank Swap
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 22 minutes.]
Emma frowned at the popup, now finally visible in a moment of calm. That was objectively a good thing, as the last thing she needed in the heat of combat was to have her field of view filled with status updates. Nonetheless, she wasn¡¯t sure what to think of this latest message. On the one hand, she didn¡¯t think they¡¯d been fighting for over twenty minutes already, but without a precise countdown, she couldn¡¯t be entirely sure. Excitement did funny things to people¡¯s perception of time, and she couldn¡¯t be sure that this effect was entirely biological. Alternatively, she might indeed be correct, and the Time Eater was artificially accelerating the passage of time. Neither option boded well, all things considered, but there wasn¡¯t much that could be done about it, so she dismissed it to refocus on the fight.
Emma had been worried, being taken out of the action for even a bit, but her allies were holding strong, better than she¡¯d expected. Mr. Fox now played frontline tank, his stolen golem seemingly unaffected by the increased gravity; he¡¯d grabbed onto the Time Eater¡¯s outer ring, and was playing tug of war, trying to drag the boss down to the ground. He wasn¡¯t wholly successful in this, being outsized quite considerably, but it kept the boss¡¯ portal angled straight down, preventing any more suction attempts for the time being..
Saint, meanwhile, had wrapped her entire body inside an oversized log. Whilst it looked ridiculous, something about that setup was keeping her in the fight, despite cats not being known for enjoying high gravity. Only her head was visible from outside, directing the earthen spikes that continued to stab at the boss. Astrid, on the other hand, looked to be struggling; her left arm hung limp, the victim of a bad fall, and she was leaning heavily against her staff just to stay upright. As Emma watched, she took a deep breath, and clenched said staff hard enough to break it in two.
¡°Weapon for weapon, I sunder you!¡±
The sacrifice of her weapon was mirrored by the boss: a great, tearing crack breaking its ring in half. Its shape remained, held together by the force of the portal, but not unscathed, as power began to leak from the breach in the circle.
¡°I¡¯m done,¡± Astrid wheezed, slumping to the floor in the absence of physical support. ¡°I¡¯m out of mana, and out of tools; before I leave, tell me, where can I find you?¡±
¡°Oxford, in the camp beneath the big tower: you can¡¯t miss it!¡± Emma called out from her spot in the corner.
¡°Still close to Scholomance?¡± Astrid nodded weakly. ¡°I can work with that.¡±
Then, Eternal Wind flicked once, and she was gone, but her contribution to the cause remained. Mr. Fox had, until now, been unable to grapple the full bulk of the boss into submission, but now, with it split in two, he found enough strength in the stolen golem to force one half towards the ground. The moment its outer rim touched the floor, Saint yowled, and a massive hand of hardened earth reached up, dragging that half of the boss down, wedging it deep into the ground. That was when Emma finally spotted the Hydra again. Just the Hydra, for it had escaped its flower pot amidst the fracas, and apparently grown a third head in the process.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
It exhaled, much like Astrid had in her gambit, its breath settling heavily on the wounded boss, turning the trapped half-ring from stone to sickly green powder, one inch at a time. With each bit of chip damage being dealt, the containment around the portal weakened just a little more. This was good, Emma thought, because it showed they were making true progress. Moreover, the Time Eater had lost the ability to heal itself, as its portal spasmed randomly, shooting destructive bubbles of time out in either direction, but hitting nobody. The whole party had already learned, long before now, not to stand directly facing the portal. All in all, the fight had turned decisively with Astrid¡¯s last contribution. Even the battlefield¡¯s gravity had returned to normal, allowing her to leave the homunculus and Eternal Wind to their own devices, and jog back out to the main hall in full armour. She even had some hope that the fight was at last coming to an end: predictably, that¡¯s when it all went wrong again.
As the last dregs of the buried half-ring vanished in a haze of putrid green, the Time Eater¡¯s portal screamed. Not just an empty sound, caused by some peculiarity in the chamber¡¯s tortured spacetime, but a real, human-like scream.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 20 minutes.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 19 minutes.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 18 minutes¡]
Emma was sprinting by the second line, barreling forward into the portal at full pelt.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 11 minutes.
Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Even with her quick reaction, it still cost her precious seconds to get close enough for her Null Zone to take effect, fighting back against the temporal manipulation with the only tool at her disposal. This was enough to stop the collapse of time, but the portal remained, as did the scream. Saint hissed, as her protective log decayed around her, orange sparks flying as she attempted to weave a counterspell. After a few, fraught seconds, the tips of her hair were beginning to dull, and the cat-turned-youkai gave it up as a bad job.
¡°Don¡¯t die!¡± Saint shouted, as a final encouragement, before she, too, cut off her link with Eternal Wind, and returned to Oxford.
Mr. Fox was the final member of the summoned party, his golem having ignored the entropic blast, like it had virtually everything else until now. That is, until he made direct contact with the portal, and it began to weld the golem together with the remaining half-ring, with the clear aim of restoration..
¡°Hell no!¡± Mr. Fox yelled, unstandable only due to Emma¡¯s translation. ¡°I¡¯m out as well, I can deny the bastard this much!¡±
Eternal Wind guttered out, as Mr. Fox departed without ceremony: taking his golem with him, as well as the remaining half-ring, by virtue of the two now being joined. Now, it was just Emma left standing, against the portal alone, now completely devoid of physical mass, and, dare she say, stable?
[Time Eater - Level 40
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 7 minutes.]
It wasn¡¯t attacking any longer, but it was also invulnerable to damage, leaving Emma at a standstill.
¡°Now what?¡± Emma asked, staring at the boss, with minutes left on the clock.
Chapter 192: Golden Ticket
Chapter 192: Golden Ticket
Emma was alone in the boss chamber now, facing an enemy that just refused to die. Even the Hydra was gone, vanishing moments after Saint disappeared, clearly due to being tied to the same summoning. The Time Eater¡¯s body had been thoroughly dismantled, but the portal that it had subverted remained, just as impervious to Emma¡¯s arrows as it had been before.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 6 minutes.]
She was happy for the reprieve, as in the absence of enemies, she was able to return to the stairwell, and safely store Eternal Wind and her homunculus back in Eden''s Echo, but that still didn''t solve the overall problem. All the while, the countdown continued, now at the very edge of an ignominious end.
¡°Any advice?¡± Emma asked.
True, Edith tended to be quiet during battle, to avoid distracting her, but she felt that this warranted an exception, all things considered.
[I¡¯ve already accounted for this, in my prior instructions to you. Absorption is not destruction.]
¡°Prior instructions?¡±
Emma frowned, sifting through her memories as she tried to figure out what that meant. Despite the choice to activate emergency measures, there still hadn¡¯t been that much more communication than the norm. Eternal Wind was the biggest contribution by far; a direct application of Edith¡¯s power that Emma had never seen during a boss encounter before. There had been incidents before, yes, but mainly in safe areas, and more often than not for comic relief.
¡°Absorption is not destruction, so anything we sent through the portal still exists on the other side? Not helpful, for anything that I didn¡¯t personally do. The arrows I fired would have dissipated by now, assuming they didn¡¯t hit anything, and I have no direct control over them in any case. My summons¡¡±
Emma paused at that, checking her status page in a moment of inspiration.
¡°I felt the link to my summons weaken, so I thought they were gone. Except, it¡¯s been well over ten minutes, so why are they still on cooldown?¡±
Then, Emma remembered that one of Edith¡¯s first instructions during this entire debacle was to throw her Duplicate into the portal. It had never been brought up since, and had no apparent effect, so she¡¯d put the matter aside, but everything was truly accounted for? Then that was her golden ticket to survival, and victory.
[Parallel Lives activated.]
The Duplicate reemerged in the boss chamber, and shattered to pieces, and as for Emma herself, she was nowhere to be found.Stolen novel; please report.
¡ª
Emma¡¯s prior experiences with teleportation had mostly been smooth sailing. Completely smooth, when using her own abilities, and with only mild turbulence in other instances involving third-party magic. This time was a bit different, and felt like the spin cycle of a washing machine, complete with immense nausea. Only when Emma disengaged both her sense of sight and touch did that stop; she could¡¯ve taken hearing as well for good measure, but as annoying as the loud screeching was, she needed some way of knowing when the transfer ended. The fact that Parallel Lives worked at all meant she was on the right track, and in all likelihood, the final enemy awaited beyond the portal. The screech stopped, and Emma switched herself back on.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 5 minutes.]
¡°You!¡± Someone hissed. ¡°How did you get in here?¡±
Emma¡¯s first impression of the room was that she¡¯d gotten lost and wandered into a server room in an office somewhere. Every wall was covered with hard drives, racks filled up from floor to ceiling, and more cables that she could ever hope to count, many of them hopelessly entangled with one another. The only hint that this was more than it appeared came in the form of sticky notes, placed randomly on individual hard drives with neither rhyme nor reason. On them, crude drawings could be found in pencil: the majority of which showed arrows, but a few bore other signs. A single disk had shorted out, near the bottom of one rack; the machinery was inoperable, but the sticky note remained, depicting a crude stick drawing of Emma¡¯s armour. Near it, Emma could see representations of an elemental of ice and fire, a massive leech, and several puffs of air to boot; the meanings of which were quickly obvious.
In the middle of the room, on the one workstation present, a small, anthropomorphic lizard stared at her in outrage. Behind him, coffee pooled on the table where he¡¯d overturned his mug, slowly making its way to the edge of the desk, and down to the floor from there. His six monitors were still on, showing the empty boss chamber where they¡¯d just been fighting, moments ago, in no less than eighteen different angles in real-time. He didn¡¯t look ready for a fight, indeed, a close examination showed that he looked barely able to stand; both legs had atrophied to the point of uselessness, more scale and bone than vital flesh. He didn¡¯t appear threatening in the least, something the System concurred with.
[Monitor Lizard - Level 4 Technician]
¡°No, no, this is all wrong!¡± The lizardman continued, throwing up his arms in agitation: those, Emma noted, were perfectly functional, and even had five fingers each to take advantage of human ergonomics. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be dead. I¡¯m supposed to be dead!¡±
¡°There are easier ways to commit suicide,¡± Emma retorted, unimpressed with what she¡¯d seen thus far. ¡°Ways that don¡¯t involve killing thousands of people, after they¡¯ve already lost almost everything to the apocalypse.¡±
Emma had a few guesses as to how the Lizard would reply: threats and bluster, attempts to negotiate, or maybe even to beg for his life despite his claims, but as for what actually came?
¡°I have no choice,¡± The Lizard hissed, slumping down in his chair. ¡°Do you think I want to do this? To ruin a wondrous piece of technology like this gateway? To die, and as a mass murderer at that? No. But I have no choice. They have my family, my entire family. Do you know what those damned Entropy lovers would do to them, if I didn¡¯t obey their orders? The only way to save them is to play along; if I don¡¯t, they¡¯re all dead.¡±
[Well, that¡¯s a heartrending problem.]
Emma was sorely tempted to just stick her blade in the lizard, sob story be damned, until she took a close look at his chest, prompted by Edith¡¯s comment. The Lizard didn¡¯t wear clothes, yet there, connected to his heart, was a thin black wire leading who knows where.
[A failsafe. Or rather, in this case, a fail-deadly.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 5 minutes.]
Chapter 193: I Tell You This Story To Save Your Life
Chapter 193: I Tell You This Story To Save Your Life
¡°You understand,¡± the Monitor Lizard exhaled, following Emma¡¯s gaze, his hands overlaid atop the device at his heart.
¡°At last, you understand. There was never any hope of survival, for anyone who stepped into Blenheim Palace. Why would there be? My masters had weeks of undisturbed access while the portal network was down, in the immediate aftermath of the apocalypse. Why would the gateway have survived until now, when a single act of sabotage could have destroyed it long ago? It was all planned, this was all inevitable. Everything you¡¯ve struggled through has been for nothing, you were always meant to die, here.¡±
¡°Cute,¡± Emma dismissed Epitaph and crossed her arms, knowing this final round wasn¡¯t going to be fought with blades in hand. ¡°I¡¯d be impressed with the amount of effort that implies, setting all of this up just to ambush me, but really, I¡¯m just confused. Might I know what I¡¯ve done to offend your masters so much? Because as far as I¡¯m concerned, I still have no idea who any of you people are.¡±
¡°Excuse me?¡±
Emma wished she had a camera on hand, to capture the utter incredulity on the Lizardman¡¯s face: it reminded her of the velociraptor exhibit at the Natural History Museum, complete with mouth wide open.
¡°What do you mean, you don¡¯t know who we are?¡± For a purported slave hooked up to a doomsday device, the Monitor Lizard seemed surprisingly offended at the thought of it. ¡°You mean you blundered into a spacetime anomaly, defeated the built-in defences as well as our own additions, and made it all the way here to confront me by mistake?¡±
¡°Look, I¡¯m just here to get paid,¡± Emma sighed. ¡°The System offered me some pretty good rewards to stop all of this nonsense, as well as, you know, not die in a massive explosion.¡±
¡°Am I to believe you found the attunement in the Old Church, and took in just enough extra time to stay at an age fit for combat, before coincidentally bypassing the shields hiding the Palace from sight?¡±
¡°I only went to the Church because a bunch of scavenger kids wouldn¡¯t stop throwing rocks at me.¡±
The Lizard was turning an impressive shade of red, now, enough that it made Emma wonder where all that extra blood was coming from.
¡°You even interfered and disrupted our summoning in Oxford, causing a spillover from Muspelheim that burned our acolytes alive!¡±
¡°Wait, that was you?¡± Now it was Emma¡¯s turn to be offended. ¡°In that case, you should tell your acolytes to stub out their cigarettes. They tend to cause house fires, when left burning on the front lawn.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°I¡¡± The Monitor lizard pointed a finger at her, then lowered it again, seemingly lost for words. ¡°Fine. If it makes you feel better, I can accept that this was all a coincidence, some kind of cosmic joke played on all of us. But that still doesn¡¯t change the crux of the matter, we¡¯re all going to die here, and there¡¯s nothing any of us can do about it!¡±
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 3 minutes.]
¡°Are you really so eager to die?¡± Emma questioned. ¡°Admittedly, I¡¯m not sure what happens after that, since I never took that final step, but I doubt it¡¯s anything good, not for mass murderers.¡±
¡°Not particularly, but better me than my family,¡± was his simple response, and that was that.
[Good grief, there¡¯s so much drama here, it¡¯s starting to resemble a bad episode of Doctor Who.]
The Monitor Lizard jumped, as the same text Emma saw via the System repeated itself on every one of his screens, complete with a burst of static to draw his attention.
[Look. If you want to go out like this, then fine, but if not, have you considered faking your death? Pretend that you went down fighting, lay low for a bit until we deal with your employers, and then retire to a nice, warm beach with your family. We can arrange a nice pension, a medal, and a new pair of legs to boot.]
Faced with the almighty persuasive power of the chequebook, the Monitor Lizard hesitated for the first time.
¡°No, no, that would never work,¡± he retorted, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. ¡°My masters would find out. Their technology is monitoring my vital signs. If I leave this place alive, they will know.¡±
[But they won¡¯t know what happens before then. A spacetime distortion like this is a double edged sword. It was enough to blind surveillance from the outside, but that applies equally to everyone. Shut down the self-destruct, take that stupid wire off, and die honourably at sword point. Emma¡¯s blade can store your soul, all the bits that are actually important, until we get you a new body later. I¡¯d already been thinking about doing that, eventually, for Sir Bearington. This just speeds things up a bit.]
Now, the Lizardman was looking truly distraught, in the way that only those offered a fresh dose of hope ever did. He was debating with himself, now, and looking for a reason to say no.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 3 minutes.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 2 minutes.]
Time continued to slip away as he dithered, until finally, as Emma had begun contemplating possessing him and attempting a manual override, he spoke.
¡°Lady Anathema?¡±
[I¡¯m listening.]
¡°It¡¯s said that you can see the future without fail. Tell me, is that true? Will this deception reunite me with my family?¡±
[Anyone who claims total knowledge of the future is a liar or a fool. The past? Sure, I can dig up just about anything, because that¡¯s already fixed, but there are more possibilities in the future that any mind can ever process. So no, I can¡¯t really make any guarantees, but that¡¯s life for you. What I will say is that this is your best and only shot at ever seeing your wife and son again.]
That final reminder did just the trick, and he finally broke, turning back around to start working the keyboard.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 1 minute.]
Chapter 194: Minutemen
Chapter 194: Minutemen
Disabling a digital bomb was nothing like how it looked on TV, Emma quickly learned. That was a good thing, because there wasn''t nearly enough time for the Monitor Lizard to write an entire new page of incredibly verbose code all on the spot. Instead, he booted up what looked like a control panel of some sort, and entered his username and password. That brought up a nested window, where he did the same thing again, though hopefully using some different login details, if his organisation were at all competent. That brought up yet another pop up, just a single blank cell without any description, into which he entered a ten digit code. Finally, a screen full of identical red buttons appeared, distinguishable only by their labelling. He clicked three of them, and the computer switched itself off, as did the surrounding server racks.
All of this took less than thirty seconds, a series of actions that were clearly well-rehearsed: oddly though, the countdown on Emma¡¯s display still continued. His workstation went down in seconds, whilst the surrounding hard drives took a bit longer, falling silent at a rate of perhaps one row every second, the sticky notes attached to them vanishing as well, exposed as some kind of hard light projection.
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 25 seconds.]
¡°Okay, that¡¯s everything shut down,¡± the Monitor Lizard explained. ¡°Course, that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re out of danger just yet. Once the clock hits zero, there won¡¯t be a nuclear sized explosion anymore, but all of the storage drives are going to empty simultaneously, and there¡¯s a lot of attacks, solid objects and other weirdness inside them. So, uh, you might want to kill me quickly, and then find a way to protect yourself. Just saying.¡±
[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 15 seconds.]
Emma didn¡¯t need any more prompting than that, summoning Epitaph and going for a decapitating swing, willing to make it both quick and painless, given the circumstances. The Lizardman didn¡¯t resist at all, and his final expression was not of anger, grief or even fear, but simple, sincere relief. The failsafe at his heart hissed, but with the power already down, there was nothing for it to do, nothing active to take any orders it might transmit. The fight was over, and so, without even a moment¡¯s pause, the flood of notifications began.
[Monitor Lizard defeated.
Monitor Lizard simulacrum created.
Dungeon cleared.
1000 EXP gained.
Quest - It¡¯s The Green You Need
Objective: Raise the Potted Hydra until it blooms. [COMPLETE]
Objective: Convince the Hydra to give Saint a vial of its blood. [COMPLETE]You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Rewards:
Three Headed Hydra is awake.
Three Headed Hydra sees Saint as his mother.
Saint has received a gift from Echidna, Mother of Monsters]
Rewards began streaming in, including ones that Emma had honestly forgotten about, given that Saint had taken up most of the job, dealing with it. That was only fair enough, considering that the Nekomata would be the one getting most of the benefits, but she still got the notifications, apparently.
[In order to fulfil the agreement with the Monitor Lizard, we recommend selecting Blueprint - Menagerie for your outstanding reward for reaching Level 17. Y/N?]
Emma chose yes with little difficulty; she¡¯d already been leaning towards that, and the permanent improvements for her summons across the board, compared to the more specialised or single-use options on the docket.
[You might want to turn your defences on, too.
WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 5 seconds.]
¡°Oh, damn. Thanks for the reminder.¡±
[Ephemera (Toggle: ON)
Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Emma quickly did just that, before her fixation on the upcoming rewards doomed her.
[You¡¯re welcome. Wouldn¡¯t be the first time a System user died like that. Now, where were we? Oh yes, quests.
Quest - Vae Victis
Objective: Deactivate the gateway beneath Blenheim Palace before it explodes. [COMPLETE]
Rewards:
25,000 Thrones gained.
Commendation (Order of the Empire, First Class) gained.*
*Ordinarily, this would include a fancy ceremony, where you¡¯d be formally knighted and receive a medal for services to the Empire, but well, the Apocalypse happened and everything is a clusterfuck right now, so call it a field promotion. An announcement will be made to all the official publications in the Empire, and while there are no formal, legally defined benefits for this, like a salary, it¡¯s a mark of high esteem, a tradition going back over a thousand years. You¡¯ll find that many of the oldest, strongest Masters are quite fond of tradition.
Season Ticket (The Ghost Train) gained.*
Good for 3 months from the date of first use. Summons The Ghost Train, crewed by a complement of Tanuki, and guaranteed to deliver you to any location known to them.*
**The crew retain the right to refuse transport to active warzones, quarantine sites, and nuclear waste storage facilities.
Residence Permit (Avalon) gained.*
*An exclusive private island, home to the most prestigious and wealthiest citizens of the Empire. You can be one of them, now, assuming you can afford the purchase price.]
The second information dump was even longer than the first, and Emma hadn¡¯t made it even halfway down the list, when everything exploded. None of it touched her, of course, with both layers of defences active, but it was still surreal to watch, as a barrage of elemental projectiles, ordinary projectiles, books, graphics cards, dead bodies, undead bodies and pornographic magazines burst out of each and every storage drive, destroying them irreparably on the way out, just as it destroyed the rest of the room around them.
The roof wasn¡¯t built to withstand such abuse, and caved in shortly thereafter, however many floors as existed further up coming crashing down, burying Emma beneath the rubble, and then she couldn¡¯t see anything anymore, except for the System text, which remained ever present. Emma could have made her way out, eventually, using the slow, crawling speed levitation she could manage even in an intangible state, but quite frankly, there was no reason to bother. The Dungeon was clear, the enemy¡¯s plans were foiled, and there was nothing left to do for the day.
[Null Zone (Toggle: OFF)]
With only rubble left to pose a problem, Emma didn¡¯t hesitate to turn off her magical defence, followed by a swift activation of Return, to put a definitive end behind a very bizarre adventure.
Chapter 195: There and Back Again
Chapter 195: There and Back Again
The trip back home was thankfully back to business as usual: a smooth, seamless and instantaneous transition from being buried underground to the front steps of the family home. More than anything else, Emma was happy to see the real sky again, after how long she¡¯d spent in one artificial environment after another.
[Ephemera (Toggle: OFF)]
She spent a good, long while just standing there, her armoured head following the movement of the Sun as it disappeared beyond the horizon. The real Sun, bright and alive and well, still untouched by the conspiracy that haunted its future. Yellow fading into Orange, not the burning red that had come once it was far too late to avert certain doom. Only when it was entirely gone from sight, did Emma turn finally around to head inside. A flick of her wrist snapped the door handle clean off, whilst her attempt to head inside was stymied, on account of having walked face first into a barrier of wood.
[That¡¯s not right. Hold on, ah, I see. Saint activated the emergency bloodward at some point.]
¡°God damn it, Saint.¡±
[Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Emma could have swapped over to the homunculus, and donated blood to deactivate the ward that way, but after everything she¡¯d been through lately, she was entirely out of patience. The barrier fizzled out in the face of her absolute protection, and brute force did the rest, pushing the door open and off its hinges.
¡°Guard the door, we¡¯re not to be disturbed,¡± Emma ordered, summoning Sir Bearington to replace her on the front lawn.
The summon had grown in strength alongside his master; where once he was the size of an ordinary bear, he was now half again as tall, and could cover the entire entrance with room to spare when standing up on his hindlegs. That still wouldn¡¯t be enough to deter the truly powerful locals, if they were determined to intrude, but Emma was happy enough just keeping nosy busybodies out for the time being. Heading inside, her first stop was the bedroom, though not to sleep, but rather to try a variation of what he¡¯d done in the final battle, albeit under more peaceful circumstances.
Laying down in bed in her armoured form, Emma summoned the homunculus once more. Then, instead of using Oversoul like she normally would, she called on her Duplicate instead, and had it do the honours.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
¡°Not bad,¡± Emma spoke, in her body of flesh and blood. ¡°As long as I¡¯m not trying to move both bodies at the same time, I think this will work.¡±
More importantly, it kept Sir Bearington active while simultaneously enabling access to the Chandler class. It was a workaround, one that probably wouldn¡¯t be necessary once the Menagerie was up and running, but was pretty handy in the meantime. Satisfied, Emma headed back downstairs, closing the bedroom door behind her. She went to the living room, aiming to find a spot big enough to bring out her portable crafting bench, as she¡¯d had quite a few ideas from watching Eternal Wind being made, ones she was eager to test out, now that the end of the world was no longer breathing down her neck. At least, Emma did, until she found that Saint had beaten her there.
The mischievous cat was sleeping on the couch, twin tails flapping to an invisible wind. More importantly, the Hydra was entangled around her, his three heads wrapped protectively around Saint, hiding most of her torso beneath a cocoon of brilliant green. Emma was determined, in that moment, to preserve this scene for posterity, the lack of a camera be damned, and she had an idea how to do so. Her crafting Class was Chandler, not Artist or Painter, but there were areas of overlap to be found when she squinted real hard. Her first Trait had given her a modern education in mundane candles, and to Emma¡¯s glee, this included a large amount of dexterity where the medium of wax was concerned.
Deploying her crafting bench in a corner, Emma was happy to find that it resized itself to fit the environment. That meant a much smaller table than before, but that was fine, as all she really needed were her sculpting tools and some wax. Emptying the entire bag into a tall plastic tray, Emma kneaded the mixture until it was firm without being hard, and then she grabbed a carving knife and went to work. She¡¯d never made a waxwork sculpture before, but she had the required knowledge, and had seen plenty of them at Madame Tussauds before: how hard could it be?
¡ª
Saint yawned, cracking open her eyes to see a faceful of leaf on her nose. Saint sniffed once, sniffed twice, then sneezed mightily, propelling herself to sit upright. One of the Hydra¡¯s heads turned back at her, groaning in reproach, before it too settled back onto the soft sofa cushion, too tired to protest further.
¡°I can relate, buddy, I feel like a pancake too,¡± Saint groaned, feeling deep soreness along every inch of her body: whilst she¡¯d managed to harden herself enough to survive the Time Eater¡¯s crushing gravity, that didn¡¯t make the experience any more enjoyable.
Still, they¡¯d both given as good as they¡¯d gotten, before being sent back home and collapsing on the spot. Vaguely, she wondered how the battle for Oxford was going, before falling over again.
¡°The house is still here, so it can¡¯t be going that badly,¡± Saint reasoned. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with it tomorrow.¡±
Really, she longed for nothing more than to sleep, and nothing was going to stop her, not even the soft slicing sounds in the background that probably signified someone preparing a meal.
¡°Mmm, salmon¡¡±
With that whispered plea, Saint returned to the realm of sleep. In hindsight, a day of rest might have been a tad optimistic, as she wouldn¡¯t wake up again for the better part of a week, just in time to receive a handcrafted present or two.
Chapter 196: Egeria
Chapter 196: Egeria
Astrid had answered the call, partly to come to Emma¡¯s assistance, but also as an escape from her pursuers, who had proven both numerous and persistent. Accordingly, she returned in anticipation of a fight, should any of them still linger at the spot where she vanished: though she also hoped that the main force had dispersed to go looking elsewhere. As it turned out, Astrid was half right. If anything, there were more people than before, and there was a fight, just not one involving her in any way. Nobody even noticed her reappearance, though Astrid thought that could be forgiven.
[Oh dear.]
She¡¯d left behind a cramped attic not long ago, only to come beneath the open sky in a makeshift fortress, amidst newly raised walls of rock and stone, manned by half a dozen Warlocks and twenty times that many soldiers, all of them fighting desperately to hold back an endless tide of wild demons. A thick miasma of death and decay had already taken hold, to her benefit; it seeped into her tired flesh and weakened soul, replenishing both with the enemies of the fallen. Raising a hand with renewed vigour, suddenly filled with confidence even with her main weapon gone, Astrid rejoined the fight, this time on the same side as her erstwhile pursuers.
¡ª
Mr. Fox popped back up, falling headfirst into a bale of straw. He wasn¡¯t much of a vegetarian, so this was less than pleasant, but he was also too tired to complain or pull himself free. Every inch of him ached, and there was a deep emptiness inside him, one quite distinct from physical hunger or thirst, though he suffered from both of those as well, after his recent activities.
[You¡¯ve never had to push yourself like that before, so it¡¯s to be expected. Every Class is capable of front line combat, when necessary, but some will inevitably feel the strain more than others.]
Before Mr. Fox could reply, he felt strong hands wrap around him, pulling him out of the hay and into a tight hug. He sank into Anna¡¯s warm embrace - then spluttered as she emptied a bottle of water on his face while the peanut gallery laughed at him.
¡°That¡¯ll teach you to lick me when I¡¯m asleep,¡± Anna remarked, turning him around in her arms so they could speak face to face. ¡°Now, how about some food, then we can talk about where you vanished off to for over a month?¡±
Food sounded good to him, though a long talk definitely didn¡¯t. Mr. Fox was already starting to think of excuses when his brain finally processed what he¡¯d heard.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°What do you mean I¡¯ve been gone for a month?¡±
¡ª
Saint found herself lying on her back on an island of catnip, wrapped within the coils of a serpent that blotted out the horizon, one with a human woman at its head. Above her, twelve blue stars shone weakly overhead, bathing the entire world in neon light.
¡°Oh, I¡¯m dreaming,¡± Saint decided, rolling over to take a bite from the plentiful plants on the floor. ¡°Itadakimasu!¡±
¡°You¡¯re supposed to say that before eating, not after,¡± the woman corrected her, though she smiled as she said it, so Saint supposed she couldn¡¯t be too mad about it.
¡°Oh, my bad. Want some?¡± Saint tapped the ground, channelling enough magic to grow a sprig of catnip into a tree in its own right. ¡°It¡¯s good, and there¡¯s plenty to go around.¡±
Granted, she wasn¡¯t sure if catnip had any effect on reptiles, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to offer, right?
¡°I¡¯m good, thank you.¡±
Her smile remained, wider now, as the woman knelt down to pet Saint behind the ears, drawing a soft pur.
¡°I take it you don¡¯t know who I am?¡±
¡°Not in the slightest,¡± Saint admitted between bouts of purring. ¡°Though that feels really nice. I¡¯m starting to think this might not be a dream anymore.¡±
¡°It is and it isn¡¯t. You¡¯re still asleep, yes, which is why I¡¯m taking advantage of Hypnos¡¯ generosity to contact you, but this is also very real. I¡¯d have done it sooner, I¡¯ve tried a few times before already, but it was only recently that you could hear me at all, and only now does my projection come through clearly. Finally, you¡¯ve settled fully into your existence as a being of myth, and we can talk about matters of childcare.¡±
¡°Eh?¡± Saint blinked at that, even pausing mid-bite. ¡°Am I pregnant? I haven¡¯t seen any tomcats this cycle, wait, is this a Druid thing? Kittens?¡±
[She¡¯s not talking about children in the literal sense. This is Echidna, mother of serpents.]
¡°Oh!¡± Saint heaved a sigh of relief at Edith¡¯s interruption. ¡°You mean the Hydra!¡±
¡°Indeed,¡± Echidna laughed softly. ¡°Apologies for the misunderstanding, I thought the usurper would have explained already. Some time ago, I put out a request for someone to raise the latest clutch of hydra. Most of them went to the usual carers, but a few had unusual affinities that were hard to work with. Eventually, in the absence of qualified takers, I put out a System request, offering a reward for those who managed to raise them to maturity, and now I¡¯m here to pay up.¡±
¡°Emma did mention a quest,¡± Saint recalled. ¡°Used it to pawn off the job of actually raising him, though she never mentioned who it came from. So, what did I win?¡±
¡°This.¡±
Faster than Saint could react, Echidna surged forward, her teeth sharpening into blades as one of them stabbed her in the side, leaving a shallow hole as it withdrew.
¡°Ow!¡± Saint complained, rolling over to take a better look at the wound, one that was already closing, leaving behind a dark patch in the shape of a serpent¡¯s fang. ¡°How is that a reward? Am I being pranked? Did Edith put you up to this?¡±
¡°Every being of legend will hold some level of authority over the world. Of all that I have accrued, my strongest and most known is Motherhood, but I also wield a number of others, and have now granted you a fragment of one: Poison.¡±
[Item received - Droplet of Lerna: Your Poison abilities are 300% more effective.]
¡°Oooh, I can kill so many people with this!¡± Saint cooed, her anger forgotten in an instant. ¡°Thanks!¡±
Happy Thanksgiving!
So I''m British (as the MC and story probably gave away), and ordinarily we don''t do Thanksgiving, though similar traditions of Harvest festivals exist. That being said, some of my friends are from the States and happen to be in the area this year, and are looking to arrange a get together later today.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Rather last minute, and it means I''m scrambling around to get ready & travel, so no time to write today. Chapters will resume tomorrow, there''s still 2 more for this week, but they''ll just come out on Friday and Saturday instead.
Sorry for the unexpected delay, and happy Thanksgiving everyone!
Chapter 197: The Beginning of the End
Chapter 197: The Beginning of the End
To Emma¡¯s chagrin, making a wax sculpture turned out to be significantly harder than she had expected. Whilst she had no issue heating and moulding the wax itself, nor with using the sculpting tool, thanks to her passive traits from the Chandler class, that was as far as the benefits went. For the most difficult aspects, namely, shaping the surface of the sculpture to make it aesthetically pleasing, she was very much on her own.
[10 EXP gained for pushing the boundaries of your skill.]
¡°Not again,¡± Emma groaned, as she examined her latest attempt.
She¡¯d gotten the shape right, this time, the body and head coming out to actually resemble the proportions of a sleeping cat. Even the four small paws added on after the fact were looking to be in decent shape. The main problem, and what really vexed her right now, was the face. Instead of precise lines carved in the shape of Saint¡¯s whiskers and tabby patterned coat, her best effort instead amounted to what looked like a crude cartoon drawing of a cat, fit for a particularly distorted episode of Tom and Jerry. This was the fourth time she¡¯d gotten such a result as well, which didn¡¯t make Emma feel much better.
¡°Turns out, I¡¯m not very artistic,¡± Emma finally relented.
[To be fair, it¡¯s not that difficult where candles are concerned. Add some colouring to the wax, mix it up a bit, maybe stick some decorations inside, and you¡¯re done. Because of this simplicity, we never added any particular requirement for artistry to pick up the Class, but on the flip side, it also meant we never bothered to add that knowledge as a passive skill. So, uh, you may want to take art lessons, if you¡¯re gonna try that again.]
Emma was tempted to return to the grind, diving into a fifth attempt, but ultimately she recognised that she¡¯d already put too much time into what was meant to be a simple present.
¡°Back to candles then,¡± she agreed with a sigh, before tossing her deformed attempt at a cat into the bin, to join its predecessors.
Many of the reagents collected in Blenheim Palace had been consumed during the creation of Eternal Wind, but many did not mean all, so Emma still had a few things she wanted to try. To begin with, she used the free wax that came with the portable crafting table to make a batch of ordinary candles. There was nothing at all special with them, and Emma noted that they didn¡¯t even give XP anymore; with Chandler having been power levelled to 9 in the Dungeon, such basic crafting was simply too little to move the needle any more. That was fine however, because these were just the placeholders for what Emma really wanted.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
[Eternal Wind withdrawn.]
Pulling Eternal Wind out of her inventory, Emma fed it a few drops of mana, just a little, just long enough until the first notification appeared.
[Mana: 99/100]
This was nowhere near enough to summon anybody, but it did cause Eternal Wind¡¯s wick to light and burn, ever so slightly. Then, Emma held Eternal Wind up against one of her regular candles, and tried to transfer the flame over. The regular candle spontaneously combusted, spraying Emma, her crafting table, and the living room floor with burning wax.
[50 EXP gained for creative thinking.]
¡°Not bad,¡± Emma remarked, even as she hurriedly patted herself down, smothering the flames before they could eat away at her space suit, before doing the same for the table and floor.
[It wasn¡¯t a bad idea, though it would never have worked here due to the sheer mismatch between the two candles. Combinations are a fun path to pursue though, so don¡¯t let that discourage you.]
¡°Noted.¡±
[Eternal Wind stored.
A Practical Guide to Entropy withdrawn.]
Moving on to her next experiment, Emma flicked open the book she¡¯d gotten from the second half of the recent Dungeon, and began to read. This wasn¡¯t actually part of the experiment, but she wanted to see if there was any valuable information inside the tome, before she fed it to the flames. Alas, all she found was a rambling monologue from someone who didn¡¯t know what a paragraph was, proclaiming the end of all things and the virtue of bringing forth the apocalypse. Nothing particularly actionable, nor was it something she wanted to read. Accordingly, Emma had no regrets with tearing out a page and using it as wrapping paper for another candle. The candle gave no reaction, until Emma finally lit it, at which point its flame turned a deep purple, and began to emit an indescribably foul stench.
[50 EXP gained!
Chaos Candle created.
New Candle Attribute learned - Chaos: Emits a different negative effect each time it¡¯s lit.]
¡°Ew.¡±
[Chaos Candle stored.
A Practical Guide to Entropy stored.]
Emma was happy for the discovery, but far less so the practical consequences; especially as she was in her homunculus while her armour was upstairs, making it impossible to deaden her sense of smell to prevent herself from gagging.
¡°Gods above, what is that?¡±
Saint was even less pleased to be woken up by a magical stink bomb, given her senses were far keener than that of a human or even a half-demon. She leapt up from the couch onto the coffee table, both her tails lashing wildly in the air as she glared at Emma.
¡°Behold my wrath, orange onslaught!¡±
A spectacular burst of orange light filled the room, followed by the strongest citrus Emma had ever smelled. It burned at her eyes, nostrils and throat, causing her to devolve into a hacking cough, even as she privately admitted that this was still preferable to what was there before it.
¡°Glad to see you¡¯re awake,¡± Emma eventually spoke, after opening all the windows to air out the house. ¡°Anything exciting happen while you were out?¡±
¡°You mean besides getting a massive buff to my poisons, and finding out that we¡¯ve basically been gone for a month?¡±
¡°Wait, what?¡±
Chapter 198: Black Sabbath
Chapter 198: Black Sabbath
Internal Affairs, as a general rule, did not get too much publicity from the media arm of the Empire. This was sensible, because as a department that worked in the shadows, investigating misconduct and crime committed by other members of the Empire, they preferred to keep a low profile, typically only commenting on their work on a particular case, long after it was finished, if ever. The personnel, too, were kept out of the limelight, their capabilities heavily classified to keep their targets guessing. In this, Elizabeth Faust was something of an exception. Famous for the circumstances of her family, long before taking formal employment, her skill with memory manipulation was known far and wide, to the point where enemy agents carried suicide pills when operating near her, preferring death over capture.
Everyone knew that to be captured by Elizabeth was to have their mind ripped open and all their secrets stolen, so they must never find themselves in a situation where she can freely work them over with her magic. The Empire¡¯s spymasters encouraged this, lavishing her with praise, both because it instilled fear in their enemies, but also to mislead and discourage them from looking deeper at her skillset: why bother, when it was already so well known? Because of this, very few people knew the extent of her passive scanning, or that she could lift surface thoughts from even fellow Magi without giving the game away, should their mind prove unguarded. Very little came of this, usually, because practitioners were typically paranoid by nature, and mental protection was standard issue, but sometimes, people slipped up.
I can¡¯t wait to get out of this shithole. Nearly a month spent watching the water, all to distract the Magical Girl Corps from the real battles, bah. I can¡¯t wait to see their faces when they return home, to find it all a smoking ruin.
Needless to say, Elizabeth hadn¡¯t expected to hear thoughts such as these, three weeks into her assignment on the coast of Dover: especially not from the commander of the entire operation, who really should have known better than to broadcast their thoughts in such a way. Elizabeth cast half a dozen discreet diagnostic skills, only to find nothing amiss; which made sense, if an infiltrator had come prepared for her magic in advance, which was why she had alternatives on hand. Palming a skill potion from storage, she didn¡¯t hesitate to pop the cork and down the foul concoction, as bitter as raw coffee beans with a spicy aftertaste worthy of a Carolina Reaper. It was worth it, even as her mouth and nose burned, all for ten seconds of access to the highest tier of a particular System skill: Detect. Focusing her mind with the ease of long practice, she turned to her commanding officer, still stood on the rampart overlooking the English Channel, and looked.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
[Doppelganger Demon - Level 50]
Elizabeth stared at the bold text pop-up for the full ten seconds, feeling the life leave her as she mentally tallied the amount of pointless busy work she¡¯d done over the past weeks, supposedly for the good of the Empire. Her anger steadily mounted, even as she drew her bow and arrow and shot the infiltrator in the back at point blank range.
¡ª
¡°Well, looks like this is it.¡±
Noah lay prone in a pillbox, completely dry of mana and too tired to move, his voice barely audible over the roar of artillery and gouts of balefire. The former flew overhead, launched from further inland to try and relieve their position, and left craters wherever they landed, while the latter burned merrily around their makeshift foxhole, consuming anything and anyone that came near the flames. It wasn¡¯t enough, not even close, against the numbers they were facing, and for the umpteenth time, Noah wondered not if there was a traitor in their midst, but who it might be, because there was no way he would accept his present situation as being a mere coincidence.
What was supposed to be a routine inspection of a forward outpost had descended into chaos, mere minutes after their arrival. Adding insult to injury, the sun shone bright above them; it was barely noon, the least likely time for new demons to spawn, yet an entire host had suddenly appeared within spitting distance, numbering in the thousands and quickly surrounding the fifty men he¡¯d brought with him. Their only saving grace had been the handful of earth mages who came along, intending to expand the fortifications with their magic. Instead, they¡¯d given their all to reinforce what was already there, just about keeping a single hard point alive. They were dead now, picked off one by one as they worked on the walls, with what could only be snipers given the complete lack of warning with every shot.
¡°Demon snipers, bah.¡±
Noah would have spat, but there wasn¡¯t enough moisture left in him for that, so he could only glare out through the peephole at the approaching horde. His hand went to the pendant at his neck, a single white marble hanging from a chain of gold. It was far softer than real marble would¡¯ve been, a necessary measure for easy access to its payload, a single drop of basilisk venom, capable of killing a grown man in five seconds flat when ingested. It was the gold standard in suicide pills, guaranteeing a quick and painless death, whilst the lingering magic of the basilisk would also permeate the body left behind, fouling incoming magic and invalidating most methods of necromancy, including all the more detestable forms that could compel answers from the dead.
The entire pillbox shuddered as another wave of demonic magic hit home, and another of his men dropped dead. The last Earth mage to fall had left a sacrificial ward behind, one that enabled others, even non-magicals, to spend their vital essence to keep their defensive barrier intact. Noah was one of the last, only three more men remained, each just as exhausted and out of ammunition, just waiting for the end to come. Soon, they would be gone, and he would take the pill, to protect his secrets and his family.
Noah almost had it to his mouth, when light bloomed on the horizon, and magical girls rained down by the dozen in righteous fury.
Chapter 199: Pascha
Chapter 199: Pascha
Emma just stared at Saint blankly, as the latter explained that she¡¯d somehow been in contact with an ancient Greek myth, who¡¯d given the Nekomata a massive buff before letting her know, as an aside, that the return from Blenheim Palace hadn¡¯t been quite as accurate as had been hoped.
¡°Well, that explains that last line in the quest log,¡± Emma murmured, having scrolled back up to double check.
[Saint has received a gift from Echidna, Mother of Monsters]
Besides the shock, however, this strange turn of events didn¡¯t actually change much from Emma¡¯s perspective. Yes, it meant that the Solstice had gone from a while away, to starting next week, but she¡¯d never put any particular planning in place for that, and fully intended to improvise the whole way through. As such, all she could do was prepare what could, and in this case, that meant the two particular things. Firstly, she had to try for the Bonus Objective of her quest, and forge a contract with the Hydra.
¡°So, are you interested in a contract?¡± Emma asked the leafy monster, still splayed out on the couch in exhaustion.
One of its three heads raised briefly, cracking open an eye to stare at Emma for a second, before laying back down. Emma waited patiently for a reply, any reply, but none were forthcoming, until she opened her mouth to ask a second time.
[Give more head.]
Emma paused, staring at the unusual System message, while Saint giggled, having evidently received the same.
¡°I think that¡¯s a no,¡± Saint wheezed, once she¡¯d finally stopped giggling. ¡°He¡¯s still too young to form a magical bond like that, you¡¯ll have to wait a while longer, I¡¯m afraid.¡±
[Sorry.]
¡°You could¡¯ve said that the first time,¡± Emma grumbled, finally realising that it was the Hydra who sent those messages: apparently, even plants could use the System under certain circumstances.
¡°Hold on,¡± Emma frowned, as a stray thought occurred to her. ¡°I thought the System could only be used by Edith¡¯s descendants?¡±
[My anaconda don''t, my anaconda don¡¯t, my anaconda don¡¯t want none-]
¡°Someone did it with the plant,¡± Emma sighed, dismissing the rest of the message. ¡°I should have known.¡±
[First rule of magical biology: don¡¯t ask questions that you won¡¯t want answered. This works well with regular biology, too, come to think of it.]
¡°Alright, no Hydra contract then,¡± Emma declared, moving swiftly on and deciding to revisit the idea of Hydra breeding sometime never. ¡°Back to the candles, at least those somewhat make sense.¡±
¡°Ooh, try this one!¡± Saint added from the back, before tossing a vial of something green at Emma, which she reflexively caught with Eden¡¯s Echo.
[Hydra venom stored.]
¡°Cool,¡± Emma nodded, examining the message with some satisfaction. ¡°That¡¯s another candle to try.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Heading back to the crafting bench, Emma opened up her inventory screen, taking a look at the list of unusual items she¡¯d managed to accrue.
[Eternal Wind: No matter near or far, all are one. Light a candle with yourself for two ships in the night, build a bridge where none still stand.
Chaos Candle
25,000 Thrones
Qilin Horn
Magus Austere¡¯s Oxygen Mask
A Practical Guide to Entropy
Portable Crafting Bench
Blueprints - Menagerie
Season Ticket (The Ghost Train)
Residence Permit (Avalon)
Hydra Venom]
¡°Stop me if I try to do anything disastrous, alright?¡± Emma said aloud, mainly for Saint¡¯s benefit, as the cat watched her from atop the sofa headrest, wary of more stink bombs.
[Try not to burn the house down.]
Edith¡¯s reply wasn¡¯t exactly encouraging, but it did confirm that Emma had her attention, so she felt it a good time to start with the testing. Going from top to bottom, Eternal Wind was immediately ruled out, as Emma had no intention of damaging her trump card with some amateur experimentation. The Chaos Candle, too, was left out, as even by her rudimentary understanding, a finished product was unlikely to react well when returned to the process. As such, the first thing Emma did with her latest batch of candles was add a coin.
[1 Throne withdrawn.]
Unfortunately, melting the coin over an open flame produced¡ Well, the melted remnants of a coin, and failed to imbue the candle with any magical properties whatsoever: clearly, those who talked about a magic money tree hadn¡¯t meant it literally. Next up with the Qilin Horn, which ran into something of a different problem: nothing Emma could do to it produced any reaction. Fire utterly failed to harm it, while her best efforts with a knife couldn¡¯t remove even a sliver from the horn; not without using her armoured form, which would defeat the purpose since she couldn¡¯t craft from it. The next few items, Emma declined to try: call it a gut feeling, but she thought the Oxygen Mask more valuable in case she ever met its original owner in the real world. Meanwhile, she¡¯d already tried the book, and breaking the crafting bench itself seemed like a horrible idea.
[Not the Menagerie.]
Emma had been planning to keep the Menagerie for later, anyway, to fulfil her promise to the Monitor Lizard, and Edith¡¯s curt warning only reinforced that decision. That left the Season Ticket, the Residence Permit and the Hydra Venom for consideration.
¡°Am I going to regret using any of these up?¡± Emma mused, fishing for information as she often did in key moments.
[Not particularly. The venom you have on tap, and the other two items, or suitable alternatives, are available on the open market if you ever decide to set down roots, or go travelling abroad. By all means, have at it.]
With Edith¡¯s blessing, Emma decided to try the Season Ticket first. To her mild surprise, the entire plastic card went up in flames in moments, far more fragile than even a mundane card would have been.
[25 EXP gained for burning things indiscriminately.
You have learned a new attribute - Pathfinder: Creates a link between a pair of candles. When both are lit, a portal is formed.]
¡°Okay, that¡¯s very useful,¡± Emma admitted.
It wasn¡¯t a one-stop Teleport replacement, by any means: since both sides needed to be in position and lit, it definitely came with some prep work attached. But even so, the sheer utility of two-way portals would make this a workhorse in the future, Emma could already tell. Now eager for more, she placed the Residence Permit against the flame, next.
[50 EXP gained for burning a Legendary item.
You have learned a new attribute - Guardian: When lit within their Home, residents are invulnerable.]
¡°Very nice,¡± Emma grinned.
Sure, the candle could be easily doused or destroyed, but until that happened, it was an immense defensive boost to the defenders.
¡°Last but not least,¡± Emma chirped, as she uncorked the vial of Hydra Venom and poured it into the open flame.
[50 EXP gained for burning a Mythical item.
You have learned a new attribute - Toxic: This candle¡¯s fumes are deadly.
Level up!
You have reached Level 10.]
Just then, the front door opened, drawing Emma¡¯s attention away from the incoming notifications. Noah and Elizabeth walked in, the latter supporting the former: both of them looked exhausted, and more than a little worse for wear, but that mattered little, because at the end of the day, they had both come home.
Chapter 200: The End of the Beginning
Chapter 200: The End of the Beginning
Neither Noah nor Elizabeth looked in any shape to talk, giving Emma brief nods as they headed upstairs to sleep. Emma was happy to leave them to it, returning her attention to the last of the notifications just received. The attribute gained from the Hydra Venom was more or less as expected, but far more important was the Level Up that followed.
[
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 10 Chandler
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 2025/3000
This Level Up will award max-grade skills due to stacking buff.
Choose one of the three options below.
1) Trait - Everlasting: Your candles will last forever, barring external interference.
2) Trait - Fireside Chat: You can see, hear and speak through any of your candles when lit.
3) Trait - Wax and Wane: Injuries suffered are redirected to your nearest candle.]
¡°Well, you certainly weren¡¯t underselling things,¡± Emma muttered, thinking carefully as she took in the choices on offer.
None of them were particularly verbose, but each was a vector for immense potential. Everlasting effectively turned her candles from consumables into permanent enchantments, as long as they weren¡¯t physically destroyed. This wasn¡¯t too important for the basic products, but became more valuable the stronger the candle, since it would allow those made from rare ingredients to go the distance. Eternal Wind, in particular, was a massive point in favour of this choice. Fireside Chat, on the other hand, would turn Emma into a makeshift Big Sister, capable of passive and active surveillance anywhere her candles burned. That had a lot of potential by itself, but also synergised extremely well with her new Pathfinder attribute, which laid the ground for a potentially global teleportation network. Finally, Wax and Wane would make her homunculus body functionally invincible, as long as there were candles still intact to take the damage for her.
¡°I¡¯m not sure Wax and Wane helps me much,¡± Emma eventually decided. ¡°If this was my main body, I¡¯d take it in a heartbeat, but I¡¯m going to be storing it away at the first sign of trouble anyway. A toss-up then, between the other two. Something to decide later, I think, depending on what we¡¯re up against in the Summer. Or, well, later this season I guess, since we¡¯ve already skipped past the last of Spring; that¡¯s a head trip for sure.¡±
[If you don¡¯t get a headache when thinking about time travel, you¡¯re doing it wrong.]
That got a laugh out of Emma as she dismissed the notifications, before returning her crafting bench to storage.
[Not going to dive deep into making new candles?]
¡°Maybe later,¡± Emma demurred. ¡°We¡¯ve been gone for a while, so I¡¯ve got no idea what the town needs, if anything. Better to talk with Mom and Dad first, rather than jump the gun and end up with piles of useless candles sitting in storage.¡±
[Fair enough. Go take a break, I should have more information for you in a bit, once I properly resynchronise with the present timeline.]
Emma sat herself back down on the sofa, scooping Saint up into her arms, the latter giving only token protests before curling up in her lap, settling in for some rest and headpats. The Hydra slept on next to hear, too tired to stir even with her close by.
[Fire Slime - Level 2]
There was sadly no television on offer, so she simply sat there, staring at the Fire Slime in the hearth, bubbling away merrily and filling the room with warmth. Emma did attempt to check the Weave, but nothing popped up, the System returning only a generic ERROR message when she tried to bring up the window. Finally given the chance to relax, it didn¡¯t take long before Emma nodded off to sleep.
¡ª
[Finally done, if you want to hear it.]
Emma drifted back to wakefulness, the faint ping of the System enough to wake her up. Looking outside, it was already dark, so she¡¯d slept for quite some time, which Emma¡¯s mind appreciated: even if her armoured form didn¡¯t get tired, physically, mental fatigue still tended to accumulate, and there had been little time to rest at Blenheim Palace.
¡°What have you got for me?¡± Emma asked blearily, as she set Saint down next to the Hydra, before heading to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
[Overall, it looks like England is over the worst of it. Your actions defused the biggest threat in the South East, whilst other assets performed similarly in removing anomalies in the Midlands and the North. Scotland suffered from a partial detonation, so there¡¯s still a lot of ambient magic in the air: I can¡¯t get a good look at it yet, but high casualties are expected. More positively, Internal Affairs are working with Magical Research to investigate how Empire communications were compromised. They haven¡¯t found any evidence of external tampering, despite the obvious false orders going around, so the leading theory is either the exploitation of a pre-existing vulnerability, or a traitor in the ranks.]This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
¡°A traitor, capable of hiding from you?¡±
[It¡¯s possible, with external assistance. Every continent has a handful of old monsters on it, otherwise we¡¯d have conquered the entire globe centuries ago. That¡¯s going to be an important topic of discussion, at the Solstice.]
¡°Right. That¡¯s in a week now, isn¡¯t it? Any advice.¡±
[It is. Honestly? Take the week off. Maybe make a few candles, but beyond that, use the time to rest and recharge. You¡¯ll be better served going to Stonehenge at your best, than from any other last minute preparations. You¡¯ve met a few elements of magical society in passing, thus far, but next week is going to be your big debut: first impressions are important, so make it a good one.]
¡°Will do,¡± Emma yawned again, still waiting for the tea to cool, for her first hit of caffeine of the day. ¡°Will you be there as well?¡±
[Only in spirit. I¡¯m still supposed to be dead, after all.]
¡ª
Emma Knight
-
Public Title: Practitioner
-
Hidden Title: Auditor
-
Commendation: Order of the Empire, First Class
True Form: Level 17 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 500
-
EXP: 13,024/14,000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows of ambient anima.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when defeated. Captured: The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode, Duplicate, Monitor Lizard
-
Flying Sword: Epitaph can change size, and fly up to 60 miles per hour.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, killing anyone who saw it.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: ON): Attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
Ephemera (Toggle: ON): Become intangible.
-
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF): All incoming magic fails.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
Babble Fish+: You are fluent in every language.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - EXP gains doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 10 Chandler Stored in Eden¡¯s Echo when not in use.
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 2025/3000
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Clothes
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
-
Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
-
Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
-
Chaos: Emits a different negative effect each time it¡¯s lit.
-
Pathfinder: Creates a link between two candles. When both are lit, a portal is formed.
-
Guardian: While lit, you are invulnerable within your own home.
-
Toxic: This candle¡¯s fumes are deadly.
Level Up
Choose one of the three Traits below:
-
1) Everlasting: Your candles will last forever, barring external interference.
-
2) Fireside Chat: You can see, hear and speak through any of your candles when lit.
-
3) Wax and Wane: Injuries suffered are redirected to your nearest candle.]
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
Eternal Wind: No matter near or far, all are one. Light a candle with yourself for two ships in the night, build a bridge where none still stand.
-
Chaos Candle
-
24,999 Thrones
-
Qilin Horn
-
Magus Austere¡¯s Oxygen Mask
-
A Practical Guide to Entropy
-
Portable Crafting Bench
-
Blueprints - Menagerie
-
Hydra Venom
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Who Wants To Live Forever?
-
Objective: Pay your respects at the Grave of Sectmaster Horizon.
-
Objective: Discover who manipulated his Son to turn against the Empire.
-
Bonus Objective: ???
-
Reward: ???
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Book 1 Complete
Honestly, I never expected to get this far, when I first started posting Sworded Affair back at the April Writathon.
Now, over 200,000 words later, Book 1 is finally complete.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Just wanted to thank all of my followers, for coming along on this journey with me.
Shoutout to the LitRPG Books Facebook group as well, for letting me promote my work on their page.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPG.books
Thanks again, and here''s to many more words to come!
Chapter 201: The Last Supper
Chapter 201: The Last Supper
Emma, knowing there was unlikely to be any once she arrived at Stonehenge, followed Edith¡¯s advice and took a week off to rest and recharge. No combat, and barely any crafting: only making batches of ordinary candles, as that was what was most in demand. Ironically, the residents of Oxford had become very good at dealing with any threats her more potent candles might have helped with, whereas lighting was still something scarce, particularly as deliveries of supplies had tapered off in recent weeks. That was hopefully only temporary, and now that the worst of the fighting for both Oxford and the Empire as a whole had ended, Emma expected scavenger patrols and aid packages alike to resume: but until then, candles for everyone.
In the end, it was this requirement that made Emma finally decide to take Everlasting as her Level 10 trait. While she was happy to take a lazy week off, making Candles in bulk, that wasn¡¯t something she wanted to repeat regularly, and having the Candles become permanent would greatly alleviate the demands on her time. Sure, there would still be attrition due to inevitable accidents, but it would be only a small fraction at a time, rather than the previous, wholesale consumption. Besides, Eternal Wind on its own could play a similar role to what Fireside Chat could do, and now she¡¯d have it forever. Wax and Wane had never been a serious contender, as it was just another way to protect herself, and Emma already had plenty of those by now.
¡°Dinner¡¯s ready!¡±
Emma set aside the final batch of candles she was making, placing it on the coffee table for collection later.
[Portable Crafting Bench stored.]
Eden¡¯s Echo made cleaning up the work of seconds, as the signs of her work were stored, and the unusable detritus swiftly dumped in the bin, before Emma headed towards the dining room. Downstairs, she heard footsteps from the basement annex, something Elizabeth had mandated after a few of Noah¡¯s more volatile experiments, and now the site of his workshop, buried beneath thick concrete and explosion-resistant wards. Elizabeth was already seated when Emma arrived, so Emma took the next chair over and peeked over her shoulder.
Elizabeth was poring over an old, leatherbound map, written in what Babble Fish informed her was Norman French. It was a map of England, seemingly an overlay of magical locations atop the mortal cities that the apocalypse had destroyed. She caught sight of the Sherwood Gallery, where the family had gone shopping, Scholomance, and the transit hub beneath Blenheim Palace, but curiously, those were the only locations that made sense to her, the rest being a confusing mess of badly drawn squiggly lines.
[It¡¯s a variant on the Geas of Secrecy, adapted for the written word. All locations are visible, but their importance is obscured unless you¡¯ve visited and have a first-hand impression of the place. None of those places are strictly secret, or else the map wouldn¡¯t show them at all, but having this layer of abstraction helps stop the more annoying kinds of magic that can be cast with a location alone. The ones that teleport garbage in from the nearest landfill, or try to spy on people in their bedrooms.]Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
¡°That happens?¡± Emma raised an eyebrow; it wasn¡¯t an issue for her, not with Rorschach¡¯s Blot to ward off the ill-intentioned, but it was still concerning. ¡°I would have thought the few thousand Practitioners in England had better things to do with their time.¡±
[You¡¯d think so, but no. The practitioners of the Empire: they can invent fancy titles, clothe themselves in gold and gemstones, and raise mighty palaces for themselves, but beneath all of that, they are little different from the neighbourhood housewives who spend their days gossiping about who¡¯s having an affair. At the end of the day, just having magic doesn¡¯t change human nature, not substantially, anyway. The ingrained habits of generations are hard to overcome.]
Noah was the last to arrive, the faint scents of soot and smoke lingering upon his clothes.
¡°Still trying to add Balefire to your grenades?¡± Elizabeth asked wryly, looking up as her map vanished to parts unknown.
¡°The enchantment required is more volatile than I first expected,¡± Noah admitted as he took a seat opposite his wife. ¡°Condensing the flames into a hand sized projectile is hard, keeping it stable is even harder, but I¡¯m getting close, I know it. It¡¯ll be a great help, to give even the normal men a chance at taking out the bigger demons, as long as their throwing arm is accurate. There¡¯s still not that many magicals, so anything that takes a load off their shoulders will be a big advantage.¡±
¡°I still say you¡¯d be better served enchanting yourself a bigger mana pool,¡± Elizabeth retorted. ¡°A thrown projectile will never have the same degree of fine control as flames conjured directly. You¡¯d know this if you¡¯d read the tome of Pyromancy you borrowed two weeks ago¡¡±
They were arguing, but neither sounded particularly heated, more like they were rehashing an old argument, one that had reared its head many a time already. It didn¡¯t last long, anyway, as Saint came into the room, the Hydra trailing behind her and half a dozen dishes hovering overhead, kept aloft by wispy white clouds under the cat¡¯s command.
¡°Dinner is served!¡±
Everybody took turns cooking at Noah¡¯s Arc, except for the Hydra, whose innate poison made it inadvisable, and to the surprise of all, Saint had quickly become the best chef of them all.
¡°How did you even do this?¡± Emma asked, as plates came down one at a time, revealing fine cuts of steak seared medium-rare, fat rolls of salmon and tuna sashimi, a leafy corn salad and loaves of garlic bread. It was definitely heavy on the cat¡¯s favourite foods, but then, that was the prerogative of the one cooking.
¡°I¡¯m naturally talented, didn¡¯t you know?¡± Saint quipped, explaining nothing as she hopped onto the remaining chair, before pulling the Hydra up to join her, using a spontaneously summoned root.
They were small enough to share a chair, even now, but Emma didn¡¯t think it would last for long, not with how quickly the Hydra was growing. There was little to be said as they all dug in. While they were all going to Stonehenge as a family, their different duties would quickly see them pulled apart in the crowd, so this was likely going to be the final family dinner in a while. Not a bad way to end a week off, all things considered.
Chapter 202: Will of Stone
Chapter 202: Will of Stone
It was a bright and sunny morning, on the 14th of June, when Emma returned to the Decision Tree with her immediate family. Last time they¡¯d used this path, it had led to the Sherwood Gallery, for a very confusing day of shopping. On this special day, however, all paths had been reconfigured to converge upon a singular point: Stonehenge, the beating heart of magical England. They were arriving a week ahead of the main event, as was customary, to meet all the movers and shakers of this hidden society, ahead of the big festivities. Most of them were, at least, since Saint had heard the word socialising and promptly decided to mind the home front alongside the Hydra, who was now mobile and followed her around everywhere like a duckling, albeit one capable of depopulating a village by itself.
Also staying behind were a handful of magical girls, all of whom would rather charge into the mouth of Hell than endure the week of politics to come. Frankly, Emma thought that they had the right idea of things; she¡¯d have preferred to stay out of the scrum as well, but that wasn¡¯t really possible in her case. After all, Emma was new to the scene, unlike the veteran magical girls who were skipping out, and as a direct descendant of one of the founders, everybody would want to meet her. This was her debut, for better or worse, so she was going to have to show up, at least this first year.
After considerable thought, Emma had decided to go in her true form. Whilst she¡¯d initially been planning to visit in her homunculus form, hoping to present a more approachable visage, the recent rise in tensions had changed the playbook. By Edith¡¯s reckoning, projecting strength would be far more valuable at this juncture, even if it meant potentially intimidating everyone she met. Helpfully, this also resolved the issue of clothing, as the Victorian Gown they¡¯d acquired some time ago hadn¡¯t survived to date, and a broken down spacesuit was hardly suitable attire for a gathering such as this. Both her parents were present, Elizabeth already in her magical girl form, complete with duellist¡¯s jacket and rapier, while Noah favoured the more traditional suit and tie, albeit with the addition of the glasses procured from Crystal¡¯s Emporium, complete with an explosive selection of surprises in storage, pun intended.
¡°Are we all ready to go?¡± Elizabeth asked, one hand already placed against the root of the tree, being the only one who¡¯d learnt the activation method, though Emma was pretty sure Edith could substitute, in a pinch.
¡°All good here,¡± Noah confirmed, giving her a thumbs up; he was probably the most eager to attend, seeing it as a welcome break from the mundane drudgery of overseeing an entire town as it rebuilt the damage from recent demonic incursions.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
¡°Same here,¡± Emma confirmed, seeing no reason to delay any longer.
She¡¯d tried to send a few messages in advance, but the Weave was still struggling, as communications had taken the brunt of the damage by enemy infiltrators, and was still not quite back to normal. Even so, she hoped to see a few familiar faces there, if only so she wouldn¡¯t be stuck socialising with people thrice her age, as was common for a newcomer at such gatherings of old friends.
¡°Off we go then,¡± Elizabeth concluded, and forced a pulse of mana into the tree, folding a portion of the trunk in on itself to reveal the familiar path downward into the fog below. ¡°Since this tree is only connected to the Gallery, we''ll be going there first, before switching at the Sherwood Grove to head to our final destination. Same as before, do not get separated, and ignore any strange voices you hear, as they likely belong to the Fae playing tricks on you.¡±
With that final warning, Elizabeth stepped down into the fog, and the journey was on. It went smoothly, so much so that Emma couldn¡¯t help but be a bit suspicious. Nobody accosted their small group on the path, nor attempted to hide them from view like the last time. While Emma had started off on high alert, that had gradually slackened as their trip continued, remaining no more strenuous than any other slow walk down the countryside.
Is this normal? Emma asked, because her sample size of two journeys wasn¡¯t enough to draw meaningful data from.
[For this time of the year? Yes. The Fae have their own traditions to attend to, this close to the solstice. The weaker ones in particular will be busy gathering tribute for the opening of the Summer Court, leaving them far too busy to harass travellers on the path.]
Good to know.
With their path free of obstructions, it didn¡¯t take long for them to reach the Sherwood Grove, emerging into a nondescript clearing that gave no hints of its otherworldly nature to the untrained eye. Emma wasn¡¯t sure how Elizabeth found the next tree, as it appeared she simply stepped at random, before tapping on a thin white birch tree, which spontaneously split open, unfolding into a similar portal as the one before. Feeling no need to repeat the earlier conversation, Elizabeth went straight down, and their journey resumed. This time, Emma felt another presence nearby, albeit not that of the fae she¡¯d fought before. There was a steady beat of magic, akin to a human heart, save for the fact that every pulse filled her frame with power, threatening to drive Emma to her knees.
Emma was tempted to activate Null Zone, but held back, as she wasn¡¯t sure what the outcome would be, and didn¡¯t want to accidentally delay her arrival. As such, all she could do was steady herself, and ignore the distraction as best she could, for what felt like an incredibly long five minutes, until their path curved upwards once again, terminating at a golden portal leading into the unknown. Elizabeth stepped through first, vanishing from sight the moment her hand touched the gateway, with Noah following after her, and Emma bringing up the rear.
They emerged amidst a sea of tents, beneath a bright blue sky, and a selection of standing stones, faintly visible in the distance.
¡°Stonehenge.¡±
They''d arrived.
Chapter 203: Malcontent
Chapter 203: Malcontent
Given how much the Solstice had dominated her thoughts as of late, Emma¡¯s first reaction was bemusement, as she watched finely dressed servants flit to and from between tents, carrying everything from wooden support beams to trays laden with tea and crumpets. The morning was bright, with not a cloud in the sky, by all means a picturesque day for an outdoor gathering, and yet the scene before her felt strangely out of place.
¡°It¡¯s not that I dislike camping,¡± Emma remarked, putting words to her thoughts.. ¡°But this isn¡¯t quite what I envisioned for the big gala of the year.¡±
[Funnily enough, whilst this has always been the traditional format, this is the first year it¡¯s been held in this manner in centuries. The increasing population and technological sophistication of the mortal world made it harder by the year, to justify the time and expense needed to do this on-site. Eventually, the decision was made to only symbolically appear at Stonehenge, by having an imperial official deliver a donation to the site each year, in our name. The actual festivities would have been held in a nearby estate, heavily warded against detection and far from any of the tourist routes.]
¡°I guess that¡¯s not a problem this year,¡± Emma replied sardonically. ¡°Every cloud has a silver lining, indeed.¡±
Elizabeth started moving again after that, bringing the time for gawking to a close, as Emma followed after the only one in their group to know where she was going. As the family of three neared Stonehenge itself, Emma¡¯s initial impression of total anarchy gave way, confronted by some evidence of organisation within the chaos. Whilst tents were spread haphazardly around the monument, care had been taken to leave clear footpaths, and there were a few men pushing trolleys of all things, filled to bursting with tinned food and ready meals. All of this seemed thoroughly mundane, indeed, there was no magic at all that she could see.
[Typically, arrivals occur in order of seniority. The various servants will have been here for days already, putting up tents, clearing the local wildlife and so on. Today is the first day where the paths open for practitioners, for three days, and most won¡¯t arrive quite so early, the first morning. After that, magi have two days to arrive, and masters one day after that. The seventh day, of course, is the solstice, and the beginning of the event calendar.]
Over the course of that truncated explanation, Elizabeth had led the party to a halt outside a small white tent, one wholly indistinguishable from any of its neighbours at first glance, or the second, or the third. Elizabeth pulled the flap open, and Emma was wholly unsurprised to find the inside was made of brick, and concrete, opening up into an retro but still fully functional kitchen, complete with an oven, hob and even a microwave.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
¡°That explains the ready meals,¡± Emma could only laugh at the incongruity of it all, as she checked the doors, opening one into a modern bathroom, and another to a room that might as well have been a carbon copy of her bedroom back in Oxford. ¡°Why even bother with the tents, if we¡¯re all staying in an Airbnb in the end?¡±
[Tradition and law, the twinned binding forces behind any old society. The first gatherings here were conducted in ordinary tents, with guests sleeping on the floor, protected from the cold overnight by thick sheepskin rugs. Those same gatherings were also marred by disputes over banners and heraldry, often leading to bloodshed, until a decree was passed, mandating that all tents erected within sight of Stonehenge were to be left in plain white, without any symbols of allegiance on display.
This tradition was already decades old, by the time spatial magic advanced far enough to enable extensive interior remodelling, and so the exterior appearance was never changed, even as the pursuit of luxury improved the actual living conditions with every iteration. Fast forward a few centuries after that, and you¡¯ve got a modern, three bedroom house inside a man-portable tent. I doubt it would take much convincing, to persuade the council of masters to go for something more modern in future, but it¡¯s such a trivial matter that nobody has bothered to bring it up, preferring to spend limited legislative time on more important matters. I don¡¯t expect that to change this year, either, for the record.]
¡°The apocalypse is more important,¡± Emma agreed wholeheartedly, claiming the bedroom she¡¯d found with a slight infusion of anima into the doorknob, before adding cheekily. ¡°Maybe next year?¡±
[Don¡¯t hold your breath.]
Laughing to herself, Emma was about to head back to the common area, when another notification popped up.
[Weave connection detected.
Retrieve new messages? Y/N.]
That was the first time Emma had seen this prompt since Blenheim Palace, as the communications network was still being repaired, after the extensive damage wrought by enemy action. Emma wasted no time selecting Yes, as she had no idea how long the connection would stay up, a true difference from before the apocalypse, when anything below 99% reliability was a mark of failure for the internet companies.
[You have 1121 messages.]
¡°Oh god,¡± Emma groaned. ¡°I know it¡¯s been a while, but really?¡±
[Hmph. It looks like word of our return has spread, and whilst the people have grown bold, in my prolonged absence. It used to be that only the most important matters would be sent to me, even by such an informal means of communication. Certainly, I never used to receive spam advertising feminine hygiene products. Of course, the lack of spam before is also why I never bothered setting up any rules or filters for my inbox. You, uh, might want to get on that, once you sort out the current tranche of mail.]
¡°That would have been nice to know a few weeks ago,¡± Emma sighed, but resigned herself to a few hours of inbox management. It wasn¡¯t as if she had anything better to do, at present.
Chapter 204: The Great Filter
Chapter 204: The Great Filter
Thankfully, the number of messages Emma had to sort through wasn¡¯t actually as bad as the top line suggested. While there were indeed 1121 individual messages, most of them were automated messages from the administration, repeating at one minute intervals and reporting the same thing: a total loss of connection. Clearly, the disruption to the Weave had been poorly received, resulting in a flood of diagnostics into her inbox. Emma clicked a handful at random, and upon finding nothing of substance, she created a folder specifically for them, followed by a rule to send all future messages from the admins there as well. Just like that, over a thousand messages became less than fifty, a far more reasonable number to have to deal with.
¡°More spam?¡± Emma raised an eyebrow; after her experiences in simulated China, she was altogether rather unimpressed with the idea of Eligible Young Masters Near You!
[I¡¯m not sure who those are intended to fool, since no Sect worth their salt would agree to anything formal without at least half three face-to-face meetings and half a dozen assassination attempts.]
Emma did still have a quest involving the Far East, thanks to her inheritance from Sectmaster Horizon, but she was pretty sure there weren¡¯t any answers to be found here, and so deleted the message. Three dozen other messages quickly followed, offering everything from discount dragonskin boots to ¡®genuine¡¯ aphrodisiacs from Sappho¡¯s personal stash. Some of these scams, she¡¯d already seen the last time around, while others were new, but none of them were worth keeping in the end.
¡°Who even bothers making these?¡± Emma had to wonder, after clearing the last of the junk mail, leaving not a single legitimate message of note in her inbox. ¡°If England only has a few thousand practitioners or higher, doesn¡¯t that imply less than a million worldwide, assuming the same ratio is kept? Is there even a market for these kinds of scams?¡±
[Probably not, in this day and age, but the situation wasn¡¯t always so cut and dry. Remember, whilst there are less than one hundred thousand magicals worldwide, many have friends and families in the know, and many times that number in employees, all of them drawn from the mortal world. Add on the ancillary services, and we¡¯re talking several million people at a guess. These days, the average employee will have a good understanding of internet scams, and even then they still find victims, so imagine how it was back in the 1800s, when a servant could be given access to the Weave to manage the family affairs, having only used pen and parchment to communicate long-distance until then. The first few decades were heaven for opportunist criminals, and the trend has endured in some fashion to this day.]The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
¡°Let me guess, most of the scammers are from abroad, making it hard to track them down and stop them?¡± Emma rolled her eyes, having sat through enough computer safety classes to have a general picture of things.
[They take measures to hide themselves, as do all criminals. Could we root them out and destroy them? Sure. Is it worth the effort it would take? Absolutely not.]
¡°Business as usual,¡± Emma chuckled.
Whilst a bit annoyed at the lack of anything worthwhile, she was also happy not to be spending an entire afternoon dealing with spam, as she had initially feared, so it all evened out in the end. Unlocking her bedroom door, Emma wasted no time heading back into the common area, to see what her parents had gotten up to in the meantime. The answer, as it turned out, was the same thing as herself. Emma hadn¡¯t been the only one who received a flood of mail, the Weave¡¯s outage having been universal. Accordingly, she found both her parents sitting opposite one another at the kitchen table, completely ignoring each other in the manner typical of families in the smartphone era.
Noah leaned back in his seat, his eyes unfocused in the familiar manner of users interacting with the System. Elizabeth, being bereft of such built-in communications, instead sat upright, glaring intensely into a handheld mirror, one that showed not her face but rather brief flickers of light. It meant nothing to Emma, but Elizabeth was reacting to it, her eyes flicking this way and that, so she assumed it was some form of code that she was able to decipher. Emma went to grab a seat of her own, only to pause as she got within arm¡¯s length of Elizabeth, and the latter¡¯s mirror sputtered and faded, no longer showing anything except a simple reflection.
¡°Um, did I do that?¡± Emma blinked as her Mom turned her way.
¡°Are you using some form of anti-magic?¡± Elizabeth asked, shaking her mirror to no avail. ¡°The connection dropped as soon as you arrived.¡±
¡°Hold on,¡± Emma replied, bringing her status screen up to double check.
[Null Zone (Toggle: OFF)]
¡°No, it¡¯s off,¡± Emma replied, unsure what was going on,
She took a few steps back, and the mirror returned to life, only to die again when she approached anew.
¡°It¡¯s cutting off as soon as you come into sight,¡± Elizabeth reported, a puzzled expression on her face. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t have anything else that might be concealing you?¡±
¡°...There is one trait which might be relevant,¡± Emma realised after a minute, scrolling down to the relevant entry.
[Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.]
¡°It blocks me from being spied on by anyone with ill-intent, though it should also have alerted me in this case.¡± Emma frowned. ¡°Who exactly were you talking to, just now?¡±
Elizabeth looked rather embarrassed all of a sudden, as she tucked her mirror away.
¡°Just an old family friend, one I¡¯ve known since I was your age. I confess, she¡¯s always been eager for gossip, especially about you and Felix, but she means well.¡±
¡°Uh huh,¡± Emma deadpanned. ¡°Is she going to be here for the Solstice? Because I get the feeling I might need to talk to her about privacy and boundaries.¡±
¡°Well¡¡±
Chapter 205: Space
Chapter 205: Space
Elizabeth appeared rather reluctant to talk about whoever was on the other end of the call, not even relenting after a minute of Emma staring disapprovingly at her. That was when Emma remembered two things: firstly, that the effectiveness of this strategy was probably diminished when she had a helmet instead of a face, and secondly, that there were alternative sources of information available.
What have you got for me? Emma thought, deciding to take advantage of Edith¡¯s long standing antipathy towards her Mother.
[Since the first part of the defensive skill activated by not the second, we can infer that whoever was communicating on the other end had anti-detection measures of their own in place. Neither were able to overcome the other to provide one-sided protection, so the magical compromise ensued: both sides could no longer see each other, and the connection fizzled. There¡¯s only a handful of individuals who maintain regular contact with Elizabeth, are in possession of such measures, and are paranoid enough to activate them for what they believed would be a routine conversation.
Of the three candidates who fit this mould, the first is also a magical girl, and would thus prefer the innate telepathy available between two of them. The second is Overmind, who would have easily overpowered your protection to keep the call going. Ruling both of them out, the most likely culprit is one Alice Amdusias, heiress to the House of Amdusias, one of the few Warlock families that retain their home in Europe, rather than migrating west across the Atlantic.]
¡°Amdusias?¡± Emma asked aloud, drawing a minute flinch from Elizabeth. ¡°Why would she be talking to you? Unless it¡¯s to apologise for her hired goons shooting at me, that one time I went on a patrol back home.¡±
¡°That did come up,¡± Elizabeth winced, having decided not to try to hide it, after Emma got the answer elsewhere. ¡°Alice will be coming here on the final day before the Solstice, alongside her mother, the Matriarch Amdusias. They¡¯ll be looking to apologise, if you¡¯re willing to hear them out?¡±
¡°Only if they bring gifts,¡± Emma demanded, because even if she was never truly at risk from such paltry opposition, certain formalities had to be observed.
[Only fifteen years old, and already extorting your would-be assassins. Wonderful!]
¡°I¡¯ll make that clear to her,¡± Elizabeth agreed immediately, happy to grasp at Emma¡¯s olive branch. ¡°As soon as the mirror starts working again, at any rate.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Emma took the hint, and moved to the opposite seat next to Noah, leaving the field of view and allowing the call to resume. As Elizabeth resumed her staring match with the mirror, Emma turned her attention to her Dad, only to find him still engrossed in whatever was going on with his System. Emma settled in to wait, reasoning that it couldn¡¯t possibly take him that long to be done with his work.
¡ª
One hour later¡
Noah was still staring off into space, and Emma was reminded of why it was great to have multiple sources of entertainment in a modern household. Without any conversation to be had, Emma decided to head outside, and maybe get a head start on figuring out the dynamics at Stonehenge. Edith didn¡¯t say anything in protest as she slipped out the front door, so Emma figured it would be alright, or at least not in breach of any major rules. As an afterthought, Emma summoned the Monitor Lizard, and had it sit by the front flap of her tent. Out of all of her summons, this was the one with the least combat potential, so she didn¡¯t feel bad leaving it behind. She did make sure to position it far enough off to the side to not be a roadblock, while also visible enough for Emma to pick out, because she really didn¡¯t trust herself to find her way back by retracing her steps, not amidst a sea of entirely identical tents.
With her return route now secured, Emma summoned her Epitaph in flight form, and hopped on for a morning flight around the campsite. A few heads rose as she flew around, keeping to a lazy ten miles an hour, but when it became apparent that she wasn¡¯t about to launch an attack, those same heads turned away and returned to their duties.
¡°They really didn¡¯t even take a second look,¡± Emma mused, keeping Epitaph just a few metres above the ground, as she looked for familiar faces.
[Everyone here is at minimum a trusted servant of a magical family. Even if they aren¡¯t familiar with the inner workings of magic, they¡¯ll have seen enough throughout their career to not care about a little flight. Granted, it didn¡¯t usually happen in recent decades, but seeing as the apocalypse destroyed any semblance of technological flight, we won¡¯t have to worry about air traffic control for a long time, I should think.]
It didn¡¯t take long for Emma to complete a circle around the campsite, admiring the neat rows of tents. She kept away from Stonehenge itself, as even attempting to approach made her hackles rise, suggesting some truly potent magic at work within the ruin, but other than that, she had free rein of the sky. As for the question of numbers, a bit of napkin maths suggested the presence of maybe a thousand tents, plus or minus a few dozen.
¡°Most people are pooling tents, I take it?.¡±
[Magic is hereditary to a large degree. Whilst there will inevitably be a few loners, who have dedicated all their time to the craft and have no patience for family, most tents will be shared by three at minimum, and sometimes many more. Spatial magic is very good, these days, even a mansion in a tent that fits dozens of rooms isn¡¯t out of the question, if you¡¯re willing to spend big. On that note, look at your nine o¡¯clock.]
Emma¡¯s head turned as advised, to pick out a face in the crowd. It wasn¡¯t particularly difficult, given her bubblegum pink hair and a pair of glasses that wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place on an Elvis Presley imitator. Descending to draw level with her, Emma was able to ask for a name when the System beat her to it.
[Crystal Lynn - Level 67 Space Mage]
No chapter today due to apartment flooding
As the title says, there''s no chapter today because of a flood in my apartment. Unfortunately, my kitchen sink decided it would be a great idea to spontaneously overflow, going all over the floor, carpets and more. Cue hours spent talking with the building manager and insurance, getting plumbers over on an emergency day-trip, then a lot of cleaning once the blockage was fixed. The entire day was a wash (no pun intended), leaving no time to write or do much of anything unrelated. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.
Chapter 206: Crystal Clear
Chapter 206: Crystal Clear
Crystal cut a distinctive figure, wearing a dress that lived up to her name: ten thousand fractals that somehow maintained both cohesion and by extension her modesty, even as they constantly moved, rearranging themselves into kaleidoscopic patterns of blue and white with each passing second. It was sufficiently distracting to overshadow all else, such that Emma had already landed next to her, before realising she hadn¡¯t a clue how first introductions were meant to go. She¡¯d met other practitioners, yes, but mostly within the context of a familial relationship, or else during a period of crisis where other matters could take precedence. That said, even in her ignorance, Emma was pretty sure Crystal wasn¡¯t supposed to ignore her entirely in favour of staring at her hand, or rather the ring it wore.
¡°Eden¡¯s Echo. A good name, one that honours past glories without being wholly bound to them. A worthwhile purchase, though I admit to some bias in that field.¡±
¡°Thank you?¡± Emma managed to respond, trailing off at the end to make the question obvious.
¡°Pleasure doing business,¡± Crystal grinned, taking Emma¡¯s hand and shaking enthusiastically, with enough force that Emma half-expected her arm to fly off at the elbow.
¡°Truth be told, if you¡¯d mentioned who you were, I¡¯d have given it to you for free,¡± Crystal added slyly, after releasing Emma¡¯s hand. ¡°Just having you here, wearing my creation would be more than enough payment.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind for the future,¡± Emma demurred, though she didn¡¯t see herself needing a replacement any time soon.
¡°Oh, forgive me, you must be confused!¡± Crystal gasped. ¡°This is your first time here, right? I know it¡¯s a bit early, but let me give you the grand tour! At least then, you¡¯ll know where everything is, once it¡¯s all set up for the big show.¡±
Somehow, Emma found herself being dragged along for the ride, striding past rows of tents somewhere between a walk and a run, heading inexorably towards Stonehenge itself. For someone with the highest level Emma had seen, besides the founders, Crystal was surprisingly approachable and very energetic.
So, uh, any quick notes on her? Emma thought, as she struggled to keep up.
[Crystal is an old hand, just shy of her eighth century now, by my reckoning. Born to a family that served one of the Masters of the era, she demonstrated signs of magic at a young age, with a particular talent towards crafting. Now keep in mind, back in those days, artefacts such as portable storage items were rare and exclusive pieces, crafted by artisans working meticulously over weeks or months, commissioned by the rich and powerful. The idea of just walking into a shop and buying one, even with a few added steps like in the Emporium, was essentially unheard of. There were workarounds, such as the internal inventory the System offers, the Paradox school of magic, or the qi-based alternative available to Nascent Soul cultivators and higher, but they were equally rare. Almost all practitioners and even most magi still relied on mundane forms of storage, in that era.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Now, Crystal was earmarked as an apprentice to one such artisan, but their arrangement fell apart mere months after it began, the victim of an inter-family feud that erupted and scuttled their working relationship. Rather than give up and look for another career, Crystal persisted. She went into virtual seclusion for decades, shunning all contact to focus on honing her craft.
Using the basics that she had been taught and her own diligent mind, she dissected and rebuilt the art from first principles, to create an entirely new framework for spacetime manipulation. This new system was modular, highly flexible and easily deployed, superior in every way to what came before it.
When Crystal first demonstrated her creation in public, quite a few of those same artisans rioted, going after her to demand she hand over the secrets of its creation. That''s when they learned that unlike their inferior paradigm, this new variant of spatial magic could freely store parts of people, without needing to keep said parts attached to the greater whole.
Many severed heads later, Crystal received an Order of the Empire, Third Class for services to magical research, and has gone from strength to strength ever since.]
Impressive, Emma admitted begrudgingly, as Stonehenge neared. Not the backstory I was expecting, from someone who acts and dresses as she does.
[You¡¯ll find that most Masters are similar, in that they act however they want, unbothered by trivial matters like decorum. What¡¯s the point, really, when they¡¯ve seen a thousand years of fashion rise and fall, and when decades can pass during a single closed door experiment at their workshop? I¡¯m one of the few to actually stay in touch with current trends, thanks to my ownership of the System. With some of my oldest colleagues, you¡¯ll be lucky if they speak English, given that Norman French was still in vogue, the last time they actively participated in high society.]
That¡¯s, uh¡ Emma wasn¡¯t quite sure how to reply to that. I guess it¡¯s a good thing I have a trait for built-in translation?
¡°Here we are!¡± Crystal¡¯s voice pulled Emma out of her internal reverie, to see that they¡¯d made it within the bounds of Stonehenge itself while she was distracted.
Quite contrary to the feeling of doom Emma had gotten when approaching from the sky, the inside of the monument appeared entirely ordinary, just a number of large stones scattered vaguely in the shape of a circle. The grass was soft and green, and a faint layer of mould crept up near the bottom of some of the stones: far less than would be expected given their age, which pointed towards regular cleaning being undertaken.
¡°So, this is the stage,¡± Crystal emphasised, tapping her heel twice against the ground. ¡°Once the opening ceremony starts, the floor turns into a raised platform for the presenters, high enough in the air to be seen from every tent. More importantly though, that¡¯s when the overlay turns out. In previous years, this was a way to keep us separate from regular old tourists, in a separate dimension close enough to still be Stonehenge, but which only the magical can perceive. It¡¯s probably overkill for this year, though the organisers will still do it, being stickler for tradition and all.¡±
¡°How do we know if we¡¯re in the filter?¡±
¡°Oh, the sky will tell you,¡± Crystal chirped, making Emma stare at her. ¡°No, really! See, right now it¡¯s normal and blue, but if I pull on the edge of space just right.¡±
Emma¡¯ stomach lurched.
Chapter 207: Speaker of the House
Chapter 207: Speaker of the House
Emma summoned Epitaph, driving the blade into the ground and holding on for dear life as the world swayed around her. It wasn¡¯t painful, nor did her instincts warn of any danger, but it was immensely uncomfortable, like a sudden and extreme bout of motion sickness, or being caught on a plane during turbulence: zero out of ten, would not recommend. The only saving grace was that the transition was brief, and after a few seconds of being shaken, not stirred, the world stopped spinning and Emma could see again. After dismissing Epitaph, Emma took a look around and found that she was still at Stonehenge, the familiar stones not having moved an inch, nor had the sea of tents surrounding it. The floor had risen, forming a raised circular platform that took her above the stones, just as Crystal had promised, along with an intricate array of mirrors floating around her, capturing her helmet at every angle.
[A bit of clever projection, so that everyone can see the front of the speaker. The simplest of light magic, the sort that even a child could manage, assuming they were raised in a magical family.]
There were a few other additions as well, off in the distance. Large towers, two to three floors tall, with what looked to be viewing booths at the top. Far from the basic tent experience, these came with first class seats, individual tables, and a built-in bar. A few went even further, such that Emma could spot a disco ball, a snooker table, and even a hot tub and swimming pool on one of the towers. The only thing really missing was any sign of who they belonged to, a necessary concession to the rules prohibiting insignia, Emma noted, but one that was proving quite annoying at the moment.
¡°So those are the VIP seats,¡± Crystal confirmed. ¡°A bit of something to pass the time in luxury between speeches. The itinerary changes year on year, some years there¡¯s barely a minute to breathe, and other years you can have fifteen, twenty, or even thirty minute gaps between speakers. It all depends who shows up to participate, and the order of precedence that takes effect.¡±
¡°How does that work exactly?¡± Emma questioned, sounding rather sceptical. ¡°I¡¯d have thought the schedule would have been agreed ahead of time.¡±
¡°The organisers do their best,¡± Crystal demurred. ¡°But you never know who¡¯ll actually show up until the day, and who¡¯s locked inside their lab overseeing a delicate experiment, or off exploring the South American wilderness, or died in the meantime. The best they can do is decide the order of the attendees, assuming all of them turn up. It always starts with a speech by a founder, if one is available: this year, Overmind will be the opening act. After that, any Masters wanting to address the masses take turns, followed by an awards ceremony for honours earned. This one is new, actually, there¡¯s usually a separate party for all of that, but it was deemed inappropriate this year given the sheer number of casualties sustained. Not much of a party mood, when dozens of medals are going to be awarded posthumously, so the organisers preferred a short, solemn ceremony instead.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°Can¡¯t imagine there have been many parties this year,¡± Emma nodded, having already expected this from Edith¡¯s earlier explanation, before a thought struck her. ¡°Wait, I got an Order of the Empire, First Class. Am I going to have to do an acceptance speech?¡±
¡°You¡¯ll be called up from the crowd to be recognised, but there¡¯s no requirement for a speech,¡± Crystal reassured her. ¡°Just a few words of thanks will be more than enough. Trust me, the bar is pretty low, I¡¯ve literally seen recipients just stand at the podium the entire time, with a thousand yard stare aimed toward the crowd. The magical community is very tolerant of weirdness, it comes with the territory.¡±
¡°Words of thanks, right,¡± Emma deadpanned, having never been too fond of public speaking.
[You¡¯ll be fine. The important folks know where you stand already, and the opinion of the rabble simply doesn¡¯t matter.]
¡°Moving on,¡± Crystal changed the topic, seeing Emma¡¯s obvious irritation. ¡°After the awards ceremony, the Magi will begin to speak. Unlike the Masters, they don¡¯t have an automatic right to time on the main stage; there¡¯s too many of them, if everybody wanted to have a go we¡¯d be stuck here for weeks. As such, they have to make a request beforehand, with only those approved by the organiser getting a turn. After that, there¡¯s a closing speech by the host, and that¡¯s it for the main stage. At that point, people will break up into smaller groups, whether to listen to the remaining Magi with words to share, to go play politics, or simply enjoy the festival with friends and family. My advice, avoid politics. They¡¯re all dreadfully boring, that lot.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Politics might not want to avoid me though, all things considered.¡±
¡°Well, you can cross that bridge when you come to it,¡± Crystal giggled. ¡°Now, that¡¯s all for the main event, but there¡¯s always a few more bits and pieces that aren¡¯t heavily advertised. For instance¡¡±
Hiss
Whatever Crystal was about to say cut off, interrupted by the heavy breath of a respirator. The world heaved again, though this time Emma was more prepared, and didn¡¯t require her sword to steady herself. It didn¡¯t last nearly as long, this time, nor did her surroundings change; the only difference after the fact was the arrival of another visitor, one that Emma knew very well despite never having met him in person.
¡°Magus Austere,¡± Crystal raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯d heard you were attending, but I still find myself surprised. You¡¯re not usually one for celebrations.¡±
Magus Austere was dressed quite differently to how Emma remembered; understandably so, as their virtual meeting had occurred on the battlefield. His black robes had given way to a grey suit and bowler hat, the only point of similarity being the oxygen mask on his face.
¡°I¡¯m not,¡± he agreed genially. ¡°But I have some business to attend to. Would you mind if we had a word, young miss?¡±
Chapter 208: Austerity
Chapter 208: Austerity
¡°Have we met?¡± Emma asked rhetorically, tilting her head in acknowledgement.
Emma wasn¡¯t sure how the Magus found her, or how much he knew, but either way, she wasn¡¯t going to volunteer her side of the story to a virtual stranger.
¡°We¡¯re speaking here and now, are we not?¡± Austere retorted between slow, deep breaths, the inside of his mask hazy with some unknown substance that most definitely wasn¡¯t just oxygen.
After three final puffs, he felt comfortable removing the mask, stowing it away in his suit pocket.
¡°Jokes aside, this should be our first meeting, from my perspective at least. I hesitate to answer with any more certainty, because I¡¯m not much of a believer in linear time, not after the few times I ended up working with Paradox and her students, and all the strange and wonderful things I saw in those days. Truly, I suspected her hand on the scales when I woke up with my oxygen mask missing, two months ago, and the tracker pointing to this pocket dimension, one that wouldn¡¯t even open for business for another six weeks. Most peculiar.¡±
[Magus Austere¡¯s Oxygen Mask withdrawn.]
¡°You can have it back,¡± Emma graciously returned to the item without complaint, because why not?
She had no need to breathe, most of the time, and in a sense the mask had already fulfilled its purpose twice over; firstly by getting her onto the simulated space station, and now by establishing a first contact between Emma and its original owner.
¡°Thank you,¡± Austere bowed his head slightly, taking the mask in both hands and staring at it.
¡°None of the anti-tampering spells have been disturbed, nor is there a datetime imprint of when it left my immediate vicinity, nor a recording of intent by any thief. Indeed, there¡¯s not a single drop of magic left in this, which is most improbable, as the spells I use to ensure preservation are rated for five thousand years between charges. Yet, it is most certainly my mask, or at least such a precise recreation that the only difference is a matter of semantics. Curious.¡±
With the initial examination concluded, this mask quickly went in his pocket as well, joining its successor in the trade.
¡°I find myself most intrigued, young miss,¡± Austere admitted, his eyes returning to Emma. ¡°Would you be willing to discuss matters further, in the privacy of my tent?¡±
¡°Nonce,¡± Crystal stage whispered.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
¡°For a casual conversation, and nothing else,¡± Austere clarified, shooting a reproving glance at his fellow eccentric. ¡°I assure you, even if I were inclined to date, my interests would preclude anyone who has yet to see their second century. The difference in life experience is simply too drastic, otherwise..¡±
[Don¡¯t accept his invitation just yet. For now, give him the Chaos Candle.]
¡°I¡¯m in the middle of a tour right now,¡± Emma demurred, nodding in Crystal¡¯s direction. ¡°But I¡¯d be happy to join you later. In the meantime, I have something else you might find interesting.¡±
[Chaos Candle withdrawn.]
Austere took the candle with a quizzical expression on his face. Emma felt a faint buzz of magic from him, albeit nothing visible to the naked eye, before his face smoothed out, returning to neutral. While Emma was curious about this instruction, she felt it best to follow Edith¡¯s lead, as her own understanding of the wider magical society was still at an embryonic stage.
¡°I¡¯ll be in touch,¡± the Magus said at last, before turning on his heel and vanishing without a trace.
¡°I still can¡¯t believe he came,¡± Crystal shook her head, once she was sure he was gone. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you know this, but Magus Austere is legendary for, well, his austerity. Anything that isn¡¯t to do with medicine, and he¡¯s just not interested. How¡¯d you catch his eye anyway?¡±
[You don¡¯t want to know.]
¡°You don¡¯t want to know,¡± Emma repeated verbatim.
Crystal made a funny face at that, but nodded, knowing better than to pursue the issue any further, at least where Emma was concerned.
¡°So, are you still up for the tour, or¡¡± Despite making the offer, Crystal¡¯s expression was distant, and she kept glancing at where Austere had been.
¡°I think we¡¯ve all got other things on our minds now,¡± Emma decided. ¡°I¡¯ll be heading back to my tent to take care of some things. See you around later?¡±
¡°See you around,¡± Crystal agreed, before snapping her fingers.
[Crystal Emporium Voucher (50% off) added.]
The world lurched again, already beginning the transition between dimensions by the time Emma read what had entered her inventory. When she landed back on the grass at ground level, Crystal was already nowhere to be found.
¡°Well, that was odd,¡± Emma grumbled as she reached for her connection with the Monitor Lizard, still dutifully deployed outside of the family tent.
[Parallel Lives activated.]
¡ª
[Your generosity today is appreciated. Do not intrude upon Eden¡¯s Echo again.]
Crystal gulped as a single line appeared before her eyes, completely ignoring that she wasn¡¯t even a user of the System. Abruptly, she felt her connection to the storage ring vanish, all the backdoors built into her creation closed in an instant.
¡°The Founder is truly alive and well,¡± Crystal bit her lip, feeling cold even as she sank into her hot tub. ¡°At least her kid likes me?¡±
¡ª
Magus Austere frowned, pressing the tip of his finger against the edge of his diagnostic formation. The magic circle occupied the entirety of his coffee table, built in haste yet with the impeccable precision that came with decades of practice. At its centre, the strange candle he¡¯d received stared back at him. Disturbingly, his formation still insisted that the candle was entirely mundane, despite the literal wax eyeball that had spawned and was now tracking his hand movements.
¡°This is creepy as hell,¡± Austere shuddered, though he continued his diagnostics nonetheless.
It wasn¡¯t every day he received a gift from the family of a Founder, after a fated encounter at that. He was far too old and experienced to believe in coincidence: there had to be a deeper meaning to it, and he¡¯d find out just what, no matter how long it took.
Chapter 209: Nocturne
Chapter 209: Nocturne
Emma stayed outside of the family tent for a while after returning, and even did a few more loops in the sky nearby, but there were no more fortuitous encounters to be found. It was still the first day, and most of the attendees were not quite as prompt, so it was only their servants scurrying around the campsite to prepare for their arrival. Eventually, she headed back inside, finding Noah at the dining table, working through a thick stack of forms. Elizabeth, meanwhile, was nowhere to be found.
[There¡¯s more value to be gained in coming early if you already know people here, since you can arrange to meet up in advance. In all likelihood, Elizabeth will be meeting up with friends every day until the Solstice. The two of you won¡¯t have the same reach until next year, since this is your debut.]
If that¡¯s the case, couldn¡¯t we have waited until the day of the Solstice to come? Emma complained, albeit only in her mind, so as to avoid disturbing Noah¡¯s work.
[Not under your own power. At the end of the allotted days for practitioners to arrive, the pathways are sealed, and thereafter only magi and masters will be permitted entry. There¡¯s a way for you to bypass this, thanks to the particulars of the Damned Apostle class, but Noah would be left high and dry.]
Wonderful.
[Don¡¯t worry, there will be a few things to keep you busy before the main event, but they¡¯re by invitation only, so you need to wait for them to take the initiative and approach you. From now until the Solstice, take the day to relax, and be alert from nightfall, because that¡¯s when the real action happens.]
They even wait until night time to send the invitations? Emma double-checked, gobsmacked.
[Oh yes, it¡¯s very important to wait until the right time. Midsummer is a celebration of summer and of light. In keeping with tradition, there is no place for secrecy beneath the sun¡¯s glow during this period, as it¡¯s a time for relaxation and reconciliation. Accordingly, any meetings held during daylight will be strictly social gatherings, with the discussion of business entirely forbidden.]
No point inviting anybody new, in that case, Emma acknowledged. There¡¯d be nothing to do except small talk for hours on end.
[Precisely. Best you become nocturnal for the next week, because only under cover of darkness can intrigue thrive.]
Dad seems to be staying up though?
[Noah is still mostly focused on the mundane realities of management. While he possesses magic, his lack of ambition beyond rebuilding Oxford means that few will approach him. Really, he¡¯s mostly here as Elizabeth¡¯s plus one, otherwise he¡¯d have stayed behind entirely. You, on the other hand, are a lot more involved in this part of the world.]Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Huh. Alright then, I guess I¡¯m going to bed early today.
Strictly speaking, Emma had no need to sleep in her armoured form, but she could still head to her room, lie down, clear her mind and sink into a restful state much akin to meditation, which was exactly what she did.
¡ª
21:30
[You have three invitations for Night 1 of the festivities!]
Emma¡¯s eyes opened at the notification, one that came barely ten minutes past sunset.
¡°They sure didn¡¯t waste any time with the invitations,¡± Emma deadpanned.
[There are only so many nights until the Solstice, so it¡¯s inevitable that many scheduled events will overlap. Invitations which go out early have the best chance of getting people to commit.]
Emma grunted at that, but didn¡¯t dispute the obvious, instead bringing up her inbox to see just what she was getting into.
[Spill the Tea: Enjoy the latest sweet treats from England¡¯s top patisseries, the hottest gossip, and the deadliest toxins straight from the cauldrons of Nergal. Bring your finest dress and your life insurance for an event that¡¯s to die for¡]
Emma trailed off, incredulous, before immediately deleting the event. As eye-catching as it was, there were far too many problems for her to consider taking part: from the fact that she couldn¡¯t eat in her strongest form, to a total disdain for gossip, and of course the high risk of death, this simply wasn¡¯t the event for her.
[Heart of Glass: One hour, one block of glass, and your best enchantments. Show what you can do with an inanimate object, before letting them loose into a randomised tournament bracket, where only one can make it all the way. One thousand Thrones entry fee per person, winner takes all!]
Emma was far more enthused with this entry, both in regard to the subject matter as well as the chance to make some money. Unfortunately, looking over her status page, she couldn¡¯t see much that would be of use in the given scenario.
¡°Do you think I¡¯d be able to make a glass candle?¡± Emma asked hopefully.
[No.]
¡°Damnit,¡± she sighed. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s take a look at the last option then.¡±
[Lord of the Fly: The finest test of technical combat capability! Every contestant has their consciousness transferred into a standardised human body to compete in a massive battle royale. No magic, no assistance, just a battle to the death for guts and glory! Entry fee of 100 Thrones applicable, to pay for the artificial body and mind transfer formation. There is no cash prize, because it¡¯s not about the money, it¡¯s about sending a message.]
¡°That¡¯s the one,¡± Emma decided immediately, expanding the message to bring up further details.
There wasn¡¯t much, just a crude map of the campsite that pointed to the entrance tent, but that was fine by her. The Monitor Lizard was summoned again, this time with instructions to stay in the bedroom, before Emma herself left the tent at a jog.
[Feeling bloodthirsty tonight, are we?]
¡°Everything I¡¯ve fought recently has been some superpowered menace,¡± Emma retorted. ¡°It¡¯ll be nice to get back to basics, as well as test out what Sectmaster Horizon taught me.¡±
[Indeed. Also, you missed a left.]
Cursing aloud, Emma corrected herself midstep, passing through a sea of identical tents towards her destination.
Chapter 210: Fight Club
Chapter 210: Fight Club
[This looks to be the one.]
Emma halted in front of a plain white tent, exactly the same as all the other tents.
¡°I can understand the need to avoid provoking each other with heraldry, insignia and the like, but surely an exception could be made for some form of identification. A wooden sign with the family name on it, maybe?¡±
Emma cared little about the political ramifications of her suggestion, as it was borne primarily from the frustration of finding her way here; what should have been a five minute walk taking nearly thrice as long, between all the course correction and doubling back involved.
[Indeed, there is nothing in the laws or traditions to prohibit such a thing, as long as the sign in question steers clear of politics. But why should the inhabitants make it any easier for strangers to locate them? Knowledge is power in every aspect of life; the identical premises are just one more way to isolate and suppress the ignorant. Likewise, being able to find the hidden opportunities, or make the connections necessary to be invited to them, these are also part of the training of a practitioner.]
"You know, the more I learn about the Empire, the less I like it,¡± Emma retorted.
She¡¯d considered keeping that last tidbit quiet, for the sake of avoiding controversy; then she remembered that anybody higher than practitioner wouldn¡¯t be around just yet, so there was no need to bother.
[All three of us founders would agree with you, to varying degrees. Paradox secludes herself in the river of space and time, more often than not. I remain technically dead, acting only through the system. Overmind interacts only through her fragments of will, in all but the most dire of circumstances. Such a shame.]
Emma just shook her head at the antics of the elderly, but didn¡¯t reply. She¡¯d already reached her daily quota for small talk, and her destination was right ahead, so she headed into the tent without further preamble. Going in, Emma was expecting a similar smooth transition as her own family¡¯s tent, the white tarpaulin giving way to a regular old house. When she instead reappeared inside a jail cell, the door shut tight and reinforced by runes of imprisonment, she was understandably a bit disappointed.
¡°What is this, a live reenactment of The Shawshank Redemption?¡± Emma groused, though she didn¡¯t go as far as to attempt to break out, in the absence of an immediate threat.
[Aren¡¯t you a little young to have seen that film?]
¡°Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.¡±
The byplay with Edith aside, Emma was content to wait for something to happen, taking the time to examine her cell in the meanwhile. There wasn¡¯t much to cry home about: the cell itself was built in the old style, with brick walls, ceiling and floor, with the only metal present being the bars that made up the door and the small window in the back. This design had been phased out decades ago under HMP policy, the doors in particular presenting a weak point: never mind Emma¡¯s intangibility, even a few contortionists had managed to slip their way through the bars before, aided by nothing more than a bar of soap for lubrication. As far as the interior went, there was a single mirror recessed inside one of the walls, and a hole in the ground for purposes best left undisturbed. The rest of the cell was otherwise bare, without so much as a blanket on the floor to rest on.
¡°Are the Empire¡¯s prisons still like this today?¡± Emma shuddered. ¡°I know this is just a recollection, but those tend to have some basis in fact.¡±
[Rest assured, a cell this poor might exist as a local drunk tank, but it would never be used to store long-term prisoners in my Empire.]
¡°That¡¯s a relief.¡±
[Imperial doctrine doesn¡¯t believe in spending money to house criminals, so the maximum indictable offence carries a sentence of one year. Anything above that and it¡¯s the gallows for you.]
¡°Never mind,¡± Emma deadpanned. ¡°How is it that two of the three heads of the Empire can see the future, yet so many aspects of society are still utterly backward?¡±
¡°My thoughts exactly, dear sister of mine.¡±
Emma spun around, pinpointing the origin of that familiar voice to the mirror behind her. Felix stared back, her younger brother wearing the familiar purple and white toga of Roman high society. Alongside him, a timer was visible down the bottom left, showing a little under two hours to go.
¡°Felix. I thought the mirror looked a bit out of place, all things considered. So you¡¯re the one running tonight¡¯s event?¡±
¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Felix exclaimed, almost bouncing on his feet in excitement. ¡°I know I haven¡¯t been a very active part of the family lately, but I assure you that my silence has been for a good cause. You wouldn¡¯t believe what a mess I¡¯ve had to deal with, trying to set up a global broadcast system after both the magical and mundane networks came under sustained assault, but by the gods, I¡¯ve finally cracked it! The main event won¡¯t be until the Solstice, of course, but I was able to persuade my fellow network executives to host a small, low stakes test run, and who better to participate than my dear sister?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
¡°So I¡¯m going to be beating up your captive audience again? Just like old times.¡±
¡°My NPCs will have a role to play, as far as setting the ambience,¡± Felix acknowledged. ¡°But they won¡¯t be the main contenders, oh no. I¡¯ve managed to get some of the cream of the crop, coming in from all corners of the nation. They have until midnight to arrive, however, so please bear with me.¡±
Emma summoned Sir Bearington to accompany her, making sure that her summon was visible to Felix in the mirror.
¡°Not like that!¡± Felix facepalmed.
¡°To be fair, you walked right into that one.¡±
Emma Knight
-
Public Title: Practitioner
-
Hidden Title: Auditor
-
Commendation: Order of the Empire, First Class
True Form: Level 17 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 500
-
EXP: 13,024/14,000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows of ambient anima.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when defeated. Captured: The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode, Duplicate, Monitor Lizard (In front of tent)
-
Flying Sword: Epitaph can change size, and fly up to 60 miles per hour.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, killing anyone who saw it.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: OFF): Attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
Ephemera (Toggle: OFF): Become intangible.
-
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF): All incoming magic fails.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
Babble Fish: You are fluent in every language.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - EXP gains doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 10 Chandler Stored in Eden¡¯s Echo when not in use.
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 2025/3000
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Clothes
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Everlasting: Your candles will last forever, barring external interference.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
-
Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
-
Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
-
Chaos: Emits a different negative effect each time it¡¯s lit.
-
Pathfinder: Creates a link between two candles. When both are lit, a portal is formed.
-
Guardian: While lit, you are invulnerable within your own home.
-
Toxic: This candle¡¯s fumes are deadly.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
Eternal Wind: No matter near or far, all are one. Light a candle with yourself for two ships in the night, build a bridge where none still stand.
-
24,999 Thrones
-
Qilin Horn
-
A Practical Guide to Entropy
-
Portable Crafting Bench
-
Blueprints - Menagerie
-
Crystal Emporium Voucher (50% off)
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra once it has enough heads.
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Who Wants To Live Forever?
-
Objective: Pay your respects at the Grave of Sectmaster Horizon.
-
Objective: Discover who manipulated his Son to turn against the Empire.
-
Bonus Objective: ???
-
Reward: ???
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Chapter 211: Stroke of Midnight
Chapter 211: Stroke of Midnight
The wait until midnight passed largely in silence, as Felix vanished soon after greeting Emma, presumably to tend to the other contestants. Edith wasn¡¯t in the mood to talk either, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts. The sole disturbance to this routine came at five minutes to midnight, courtesy of the Weave.
[You are cordially invited to the 147th Coven of Lords Temporal. If you wish to attend, please make your way to Tent 101, 5 hours 55 minutes in the past. Festivities end at midnight, so don¡¯t be late!]
¡°Is this another spam message?¡± Emma asked, her mental cursor hovering perilously close to the Delete button.
[That one is real, unfortunately. It rarely sees more than a handful of participants, since very few practitioners have any meaningful way to engage with Time Magic. It¡¯s a very time-consuming art to learn, pun intended; usually, people are at least a magi by the time they get a grip on it. This year, there were only two attendees.]
¡°If that¡¯s the case, couldn¡¯t they wait until later in the week to hold the event?¡± Emma replied, vaguely baffled. ¡°Two people doesn¡¯t even qualify as a party.¡±
[Mm, it¡¯s a tricky one. Holding events in the first three nights guarantees that only practitioners can take part. Whilst this does narrow the pool of attendees, it also keeps the playing field relatively equal. Once you get into nights four and beyond, whilst practitioners are still welcome to participate, any serious event will be dominated by magi, who are often decades if not centuries more experienced in any relevant areas. Very rarely does a practitioner acquit themselves well in such circumstances, only I can count on my fingers the number of times a practitioner has defeated multiple full-fledged magi to win an event outright.]
¡°You¡¯re a ghost right now,¡± Emma pointed out. ¡°You don''t have any fingers.¡±
[Precisely.]
Emma didn¡¯t have too long to ruminate on that, as the clock struck midnight and Felix returned to his spot in the mirror.
¡°Alright, the door has closed, the decoy entrances are being dismantled, and all the contestants are ready to go!¡± Felix declared, throwing his arms to the side in glee. ¡°We¡¯ve got a good crop of contenders today, ninety six strong in fact! Now, we don¡¯t want this to take too long, so the generated map will be on the smaller side, to keep things nice and exciting for everyone. Additionally, the boundaries of the map will shrink once we¡¯re down to fifty survivors, and then again at twenty five, ten, and five, because there¡¯s nothing I hate more than games of ¡®Where¡¯s Waldo?¡¯¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
¡°You never did like any game you¡¯re bad at,¡± Emma snarked, but Felix showed no reaction to her needling, most likely because he was broadcasting to all the contestants, leaving no time to break character and respond.
¡°A doorway will open at the end of this explanation. Once you step through, you¡¯ll be placed within a human body with standardised physical parameters, and absolutely no magic. Those who die will remain behind as ghosts, and get to watch the rest of the event from above. Once a winner has been declared, you¡¯ll be returned to a communal area to go over the results, meet your fellow contestants, and receive any rewards as applicable. That¡¯s all from me folks, good luck everybody, and have fun killing each other!¡±
On that slightly creepy note, Felix vanished from the mirror, which immediately began to glow in the aftermath. Recognising a hint when she saw one, Emma placed one hand through the portal and disappeared from the cell.
¡ª
Emma came too on a cold metal floor, enveloped by a profound feeling of weakness. Brushing it off with her ample experience possessing others, she stood upright to take a better look at herself. Helpfully, the floor was mildly reflective, enough to show her new body, much like her old one. Same height, same red hair, the only true difference to the homunculus was the loss of her demonic strength, along with the change in clothes.
¡°It feels like I¡¯m back in PE,¡± Emma scoffed, pulling on her black t-shirt and exercise shorts with morbid amusement.
A pair of black trainers completed the set, until Emma took her first step forward and winced at the loud thump they made on the floor. They were quickly tossed aside, shoes and socks both, leaving her barefoot. It was a much quieter way of walking, though not the most comfortable in the cold, but Emma had no time to care about that when she had a battle royale to win.
[Mini-map loading.]
Much like the colosseum that had been her first exposure to a Dungeon, the arena this time was circular, with Emma occupying a small section on the very edge, south southeast, with nobody else immediately visible. The entire arena was metal, as far as her eye could see, set in the style of an abandoned factory slash warehouse. Metal floor, rusty shipping containers stacked up high, alongside the odd pipe, grille or mini crane for a bit of variety. The ceiling was easily five metres high, with no visible means of reaching it, barring the miraculous availability of some sort of flight. Emma reached for her inventory, which didn¡¯t work, much as she expected, but she had to give it a go.
With her weapons of choice unavailable, Emma turned her attention to the surrounding shipping containers, mindful of the occasional scream that could be heard, as her fellow contestants began to get to grips with each other. One small crate nearby looked as good as new, making it quite out of place, which is exactly where she headed. Pulling the lid off with only moderate effort, Emma found eagerly pulled away the wrapping, hopeful for something good.
¡°That¡¯s not quite what I had in mind,¡± Emma remarked, giving her brand new crowbar an experimental swing. ¡°I¡¯ll take it though. Here¡¯s to you, Mister Freeman.¡±
A faint scuffing of boot on metal alerted Emma to a new arrival, so she spun on her heel to swing for the fences.
Chapter 212: Enter The Fist
Chapter 212: Enter The Fist
Emma¡¯s improvised attack didn¡¯t quite land, but that wasn¡¯t to say it was pointless. Her stalker was certainly shocked by it, backpedalling with a startled yelp that put paid to his hopes of a quick victory.
¡°Are you compensating for something?¡± Emma couldn¡¯t help blurt out as her opponent came into view.
Now, there was nothing fundamentally wrong with his plan of attack. Likewise, there were plenty of weapons, both ancient and modern, that were well suited for a stealthy approach, whether it was the timeless dagger, or a selection of modern firearms. The massive German Zweih?nder was not one of them. Her opponent, it should be noted, was over six feet tall and quite well-built, his body well defined and straining against his clothes. That didn¡¯t seem to help him much, as he visibly struggled to raise it over his head, coming down with a swing packed with power but so utterly, dreadfully slow.
Emma didn¡¯t even need to dodge; a few steps forward at walking speed was enough to put her next to him, and thereby too close to be struck by the unwieldy weapon. He wasn¡¯t wearing anything around the neck, making it simple for Emma to hook the tip of her crowbar around it, and with a single flick of her wrist she tore out his throat. The Zweih?nder got closer to her as it fell with his corpse than at any point prior, prompting Emma to sidestep both the cutting edge and the spray of arterial blood from her vanquished foe. She stuck around long enough to search his body, finding nothing except the standard uniform of shirt, sweatpants and shoes. His weapon wasn¡¯t even an afterthought, as Emma knew that she¡¯d never be able to make use of it, not with her current strength.
¡°Bad luck on the randomiser I guess,¡± Emma concluded, leaving her first kill of the night behind as she shook the blood off of her crowbar. ¡°He¡¯d have had better luck fighting with his fists.¡±
The mini-map didn¡¯t show anyone else in the vicinity, though Emma noted it only showed those she¡¯d perceived through other means, so she kept a careful eye out for trouble. Nobody else seemed to have spawned in the immediate area however, so her next five minutes were spent at a leisurely pace, wandering the edge of the circular arena and taking her pick of intact chests. For her trouble, she found a stack of arrows with neither a quiver nor a bow, a cat o'' nine tails whip, and a pack of Oreos. Emma settled for taking the chocolate treats while leaving the rest behind; they were fresh and delicious, but that was the extent of it, as no magical buff proved forthcoming. Emma finished the entire pack once that was determined, as she saw little reason to stockpile food when the entire event would wrap up overnight.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
[~Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me.~]
¡°Calm down Rihanna,¡± Emma deadpanned. ¡°I have no idea how to wield a whip, I¡¯d be more likely to take my own eye out than the enemy.¡±
[What¡¯s life without a little excitement? You only live once.]
¡°You are the absolute last person I want to hear that from,¡± Emma laughed, before her crowbar whipped up to her head, blocking the rock trying to leave a dent in her skull.
The projectile came from above, and so Emma¡¯s head tilted up to follow the trajectory, up a nearby stack of crates to the crow¡¯s nest at the top. The shooter was a small, lanky fellow, barely bigger than Felix stood upright. He was loading another rock into an old leather sling, before letting it loose again. Emma stood perfectly still as it flew past her cheek, landing somewhere off in the distance without any interference on her part. Up above, her assailant reddened, his motions speeding up as he sought to avenge his embarrassment. It didn¡¯t help his aim in the slightest, as his next two shots fell even further away.
[A sling takes years of diligent practice to achieve accuracy under battlefield conditions. Given this abject display, I¡¯m fairly certain that his first shot being on target was entirely down to dumb luck.]
Watching as her opponent fired again and again, failing to hit the broad side of a barn, Emma came to the realisation that her opponents were amateurs. They might well have been skilled practitioners under normal circumstances, but they were clearly inexperienced when their magic was stripped away, leaving them little better than civilians given their first taste of combat.
¡°Is combat training not a thing in the Empire?¡± Emma asked aloud. ¡°Sure, not everyone can earn the time of a Nascent Soul instructor, but even a little bit of training would help make this less pathetic.¡±
That earned an enraged shout from above, and an intensified volley of stones aimed her way. Thirty stones later, Emma had been forced to wield her crowbar twice more, equating to an accuracy of below ten percent.
¡°I¡¯d climb up to deal with you, but honestly, this just feels like clubbing baby seals. Why don¡¯t you run off now, and try your luck elsewhere? The local nursery, maybe?¡±
Emma¡¯s stream of taunts did their job in enraging the boy, who promptly abandoned the advantage of high ground to come charging down at her, brandishing a bowie knife aggressively. His weapon had the advantage of sharpness, while her longer arms granted her greater reach. Reach won.
¡°Argh!¡±
Emma¡¯s crowbar broke his composure along with three of his fingers, making the boy freeze to scream in pain.
¡°Talking isn¡¯t a free action,¡± Emma chided him, and to his credit he recovered well enough to try and reach for the crowbar with his uninjured hand.
Emma let him grab it, and landed an uppercut straight to his nose, taking advantage of his head tilting down towards her weapon. A loud crunch took out his nose, and while it didn¡¯t kill him with bone shards to the brain, as a popular martial arts myth would suggest, it did knock him flying; the subsequent landing of head on floor was what finally did him in.
Chapter 213: Help! Im a Teenage Outlaw
Chapter 213: Help! I''m a Teenage Outlaw
Emma was feeling quite relaxed after easily dispatching her first two opponents. Mindful of the eventual shrinking of the arena, she abandoned her walk around the periphery and began heading toward the centre. Not directly, but rather in a winding route that kept her close to cover throughout, winding between support pillars, stacks of shipping containers and the odd pipe. It was the obvious choice, as Emma was confident in dealing with just about anybody up close, whereas ranged attackers remained the biggest threat, as she doubted that slings represented the height of technological advancement as far as equipment went. Crates were becoming scarcer as she advanced, possibly due to greater competition or simply because not as many were present this far from her spawn point. Of the two she managed to find, one held a chainmail vest, and the other a can of Red Bull.
¡°Nah,¡± Emma decided quickly, after pulling the chainmail on to give it a try..
It was damned heavy, comparable in her view to giving Felix a piggyback ride when they were both younger; not unbearable in the moment, but guaranteed to tire her out the longer it lasted. Deciding to trust her own ability over that dubious protection, Emma tossed it to the side, taking only the energy drink with her. Drinking it as she walked, it tasted much like the few times she¡¯d tried it in the past; a bit flat perhaps, but that was probably a consequence of it being at room temperature rather than fresh out of the refrigerator.
[Temperature simulation should be well within the capabilities of dungeon generation. Something to flag for the next update, I should think.]
A faint pitter patter alerted Emma that she had company; she tossed her empty can in its generate direction, drawing a startled squeak from the floorboards.
[Rat - Level 0]
¡°There¡¯s mobs as well?¡± Emma questioned, keeping her eye on the rodent as it retreated.
It looked normal for the species, maybe a bit big but no more so than those that plagued London for many generations. The only oddity was that it registered in the System, unlike her two human opponents until now.
[Participant name tags have been concealed by default for this round. Some of the entrants have disguised themselves, altering the appearance of their simulated body, and Felix doesn¡¯t want to betray their privacy.]
¡°So that means they won¡¯t know who I am either?¡±
[Not unless they recognise you by appearance, but only a few family friends would manage that.]Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
¡°Stand and deliver!¡±
A loud voice called out to Emma as she rounded a corner, and found herself face to face with another contestant; the first to announce his presence with words instead of an attack. The first thing to catch her eye was the black tricorn hat paired with a domino mask, leading smoothly into a flowing black cloak, a sharp contrast to the bright white waistcoat and gloves and the jewel encrusted rapier in his right hand.
¡°Did Halloween come early this year?¡± Emma retorted.
Her opponent didn¡¯t visibly react to the taunt, which was potentially problematic, because he was the first actual threat she¡¯d faced in the event thus far.
[Outlaw¡¯s Grace: Improves wearer¡¯s speed and agility. Soulbound.
Tainted Kiss: Wounds inflicted cannot be closed.]
He carried himself with an easy grace, and both his outfit and weapon were enchanted. The latter was particularly problematic, as it meant that even a light injury could evolve into a serious problem, especially this early into the night, while a serious wound would be a death sentence due to bleeding out. He grinned widely, showcasing pearly white teeth polished to a shine, even going so far as to bow once at the waist.
¡°Alas fair lady, we are destined to meet on the battlefield tonight! But fear not, for I, Dione, am a generous soul prepared to spare your life. Surrender all that you carry, and you may yet depart this place in peace.¡±
¡°For that matter, why are your clothes Soulbound?¡± Emma pointed out, not dignifying the demand for her surrender with a response. ¡°We spawned with nothing, and nothing I¡¯ve found in the chests have been like that. Did you win the lottery, or is there something more underhanded at play here?¡±
Emma kept a careful eye on her opponent¡¯s shoulders as she spoke, looking for the slightest hint of tension in his frame. As soon as the first spasm came, she raised her crowbar horizontally, preempting Dione¡¯s lunge as he blurred, crossing ten feet in a single second to strike at her heart. His enhanced agility came into play, arresting his forward movement just before blade tip met crowbar, saving his weapon from an untimely end. Another second, and he was back where he started, though his grin was gone, replaced with grim focus and a hint of caution in his eyes. Then, he lunged again.
First the throat, then the waist, then the chest to the right this time, then the throat again. Emma caught each attempt, fending her attacker off and resetting the board with each move. Dione was fast, but he moved in a predictable manner with easy tells, his eyes, arms and posture betraying his intent. Compared to Sectmaster Horizon, who swapped between a dozen styles on the fly and demolished Emma even with his bare hands and his speed reduced to match her own, Dione might as well have been moving in slow motion. Unfortunately, whilst this kept Emma safe from his blade, it didn¡¯t give her a chance to counterattack either, as he was always back out of reach before Emma could follow-up, and he never committed enough for their weapons to clash, sparing the thin tip of his rapier from destruction. They were at a stalemate.
¡°You should give up, you¡¯re moving a lot more than me and will tire out first,¡± Emma advised.
¡°You¡¯re further to the edge of the arena than me, when the map shrinks, you¡¯ll die first,¡± Dione retorted, confident in his position.
So I will, Emma thought, running over the problem in her head. How to get out of this one, I wonder?
Chapter 214: The Strongest Card
Chapter 214: The Strongest Card
Neither Emma nor Dione were moving now, the former thinking the situation over, while the latter was happy to conserve energy in the battle of attrition their standoff had become.
¡°How exactly did you find a matching set of magical items?¡± Emma questioned, leaning fully into a snooty tone only commonplace in historical dramas. ¡°Seems like an awfully big coincidence, this early into the event. Soulbound as well, to boot; is there anything you want to tell the audience?¡±
¡°What can I say? Fate simply loves me,¡± Dione retorted, flashing a grin that nine out of ten dentists would approve of. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m not the irregular here; how else would you be able to perceive item effects, if not for a helping hand on the sly?¡±
[Technically true, though that doesn¡¯t absolve him of blame. The System is recognised as an inherent part of an individual, the same as soul modifications, and does not violate the rules of entry as long as I do not provide external magic. Using daddy¡¯s credit card to smuggle in a set of magical equipment, on the other hand? Felix is going to bury him once the show ends.]
If that¡¯s the case, then why is Dione allowed to participate at all?
[To humiliate him. His spawn point wasn¡¯t random, there¡¯s a reason he was put here for us to find. Furthemore, while there¡¯s usually a chance to slip away anonymously after the event ends, that privilege will not be extended to him.]
I suppose I should stop playing around them, Emma rolled her eyes, before returning to the grind.
In theory, there was no way to get past Dione as long as his stamina held out, allowing him to keep up his hit and run approach to keep Emma where she was, until the map began to shrink. In practice, if the stalemate really lasted that long, Emma had already resolved to simply rush Dione down, accepting a non-fatal wound to get him and his rapier out of the picture. It didn¡¯t come to that, in the end, because if there was anything Emma had earned from her adventures until now, it was a high degree of fine control in her movements.
Dione was arrogant, always pressing up near the limit in his lunge and retreat, retreatment only at the last minute before being caught. Accordingly, over the course of several dozen lunges, Emma began to slow herself down; never much, just a few milliseconds at a time, stage-managing the deterioration of her reaction speed a little bit more with every aborted clash of blades. Seeing her start to falter, Dione became assured of his victory, and with assurance came arrogance, until by the fiftieth exchange, his retreat was a whole tenth of a second slower than during their opening exchange. On the fifty-first attempt, Emma returned to full speed, and flicked her wrist to extend the reach of her crowbar just a hair, and the blunt back end of the crowbar connected, smashing the tip of the very expensive rapier to dust.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Dione opened his mouth, perhaps to scream at his loss or hurl an obscenity her way; Emma never found out what, as her follow-up throat punch connected and left him coughing blood. To his credit, Dione tried to bring up what remained of his weapon, but the rapier was ill-suited for slashing and easily held down, failing to even scratch her crowbar. It also took most of his attention, leaving Emma free to capitalise. As close as they were, she could¡¯ve swept his feet fairly easily, but since humiliation was the order of the day, Emma felt no need to hold back in the slightest, and so her knee slammed into his nuts at full force.
¡°Looks like Hollywood was accurate on this one,¡± Emma noted, narrowly dodging a stream of vomit as Dione fell to the floor, emptying his guts the whole way down.
When Emma finally brought her crowbar down on the back of his head, it was more of a mercy kill than anything else.
[100 EXP earned for busting his balls (literally).]
Emma brought up her status page out of curiosity, to find that it had been assigned to her Damned Apostle Class, which made sense given that it was her main body for combat. She¡¯d have preferred it going to the homunculus, but she wasn¡¯t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. A cursory search of Dione¡¯s body found another can of Red Bull, which Emma quickly drank, and nothing else. True to the Soulbound designation, his clothes refused to be moved, her fingers phasing through them as if they didn¡¯t exist, while the rapier was damaged beyond repair, at least by any means Emma had available.
[Broken Rapier: No refunds.]
Even the enchanted effect was gone, so Emma left it behind, seeing no reason to bring what was essentially scrap metal with her. She might have considered it, had her inventory remained accessible, but not when she had to actually carry it on her. Tossing the empty can aside, Emma decided to make up for lost time and continue her journey towards the middle.
[Attention all contestants! As there are now fewer than fifty fighters remaining, the arena is undergoing the first shift of the night!]
Just in time too, as Emma¡¯s mini-map lit up, showing a red light on the outer edge of the circular arena. She was close to safety, enough to proceed at a light jog as opposed to a panicked sprint, watching as layers of red slowly peeled off like an onion, leaving only blank space behind on an increasingly small map. A full thirty seconds passed like this, and when Emma looked back, she found only a smooth chrome wall behind her; the fate of anyone caught by the shift was only self-evident. Surprisingly, Emma wasn¡¯t immediately accosted in her new surroundings, though screams could be heard nearby, so she supposed it was only a matter of time. She did find one unopened chest however, and received a flashbang for the trouble.
Chapter 215: Flashdance
Chapter 215: Flashdance
The stun grenade, that is, not a random flashbang effect in a can; even Felix wasn¡¯t so cruel as to include joke crates with debuffs on an already lethal map. That said, this wasn¡¯t entirely without problems, as Emma didn¡¯t have a belt or anything to clip the grenade to, so she had to settle for carrying it in her free hand.
¡°I don¡¯t know how I lived fifteen years without a storage item,¡± Emma remarked, tossing the grenade up and down as she walked.
[You never know what you¡¯re missing until you get that first taste of luxury.]
The terrain grew increasingly treacherous as she advanced; the ground going from smooth metal to a constant hodge podge of potholes and raised squares, requiring every step to be carefully measured. No more crates were forthcoming, no even empty ones, suggesting that all of the available equipment had already been picked up.
¡°Everyone spawns on the outer circle with a few crates, then it¡¯s a race to the middle?¡±
That was Emma¡¯s hypothesis, anyway, one that seemed plausible given what she¡¯d seen so far. Before she could think more deeply on it, a loud popping noise pulled Emma out of her thoughts. Her first thought was champagne, which was admittedly possible given the eclectic selection of beverages the crates had seen fit to offer, but on reflection, gunfire was the more likely culprit. It hadn¡¯t been aimed at her, so Emma pivoted in the direction it came from, anticipating an ongoing battle. For the first time, she actively sought out the high ground, climbing the next hill made of shipping containers in pursuit of a better viewpoint. It took a bit of doing, requiring her to throw the crowbar and grenade up each level before climbing after them, but eventually she found herself about halfway to the roof, overlooking the chaos below, where a three way battle was afoot.
Almost directly below Emma, a runty looking man was reloading his flintlock musket; a far slower and cumbersome process when compared to modern firearms, but still more than capable of killing on demand. Further away, two girls circled, both of them keeping low to the ground and sticking to the scant cover of the odd container as they approached. The situation seemed to be in stalemate, as there was no cover in the final stretch to reach the gunman, and although he could only fire in one direction at a time, and was thus vulnerable to being rushed down, neither of the girls wanted to be the sacrificial lamb. Further out, a man¡¯s dissolving body showed the danger of taking a bullet dead on, even from such an antiquated weapon.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
¡°So that¡¯s where the previous shot went,¡± Emma concluded, sitting herself over the ledge to watch the action.
It amounted to a rather comical dance, with one girl approaching, only to back away as the rifle turned her way, opening the door for the other to advance, and then back again as the pendulum turned. The gunman was reluctant to take the first shot himself, since even if his aim was true, whoever didn¡¯t get shot would have enough time to jump him before he could reload. He didn¡¯t look to have any other weapon, either, while the girls both carried long machetes, so if they could get into arm¡¯s length the battle would only end one way.
Emma could have ended it immediately, but she was content to wait and see; the winner of this event was simply the last man standing, so she didn¡¯t feel any pressure to chase more kills. None of them had any exciting equipment to plunder, either, just mundane weapons that didn¡¯t register to the System in the slightest. So, Emma continued to observe, as the two girls eventually stopped the rat race, moving closer to each other, close enough to actually talk it out. The gunman trained his rifle their way, but like before, he still hesitated, and they were able to huddle, metaphorically speaking. Unfortunately, they were too far away for Emma to hear, nor was she trained in reading lips, so the exact content of their conversation was lost to her. The aftermath, on the other hand, was entirely clear, as one girl took the lead, rushing headly towards the gunman while the other stayed behind her.
Left with no choice, the gunman fired, hitting the first girl centre mass and taking her down for the count. He tossed the rifle away immediately after, reaching for his pocket to pull out a swiss army knife as the remaining girl advanced. It wasn¡¯t nothing, and Emma could see half a dozen ways to make it count, achieving at least a draw despite the disparity in weapon length. The gunman didn¡¯t have that though, his posture showing only panic and his arm shaking as he stood his ground. He dodged at the last minute, the machete catching his arm and lopping it off at the elbow; not ideal, but still better than losing his head, as the original angle of attack aimed to accomplish. He still tried to make it count, stabbing forward for the side of the girl¡¯s neck, but she demonstrated significant skill and spun on her heels. She still took a shallow cut along the front of her neck, but crucially preserved the arteries on either side, leaving her bleeding but alive as her follow up swing decapitated the gunman, bringing the fight to a definitive end.
¡°That was fast! Only twenty-five combatants remain, so here¡¯s the second round of the stage adjustment!¡±
Felix¡¯s voice preceded another wave of red covering the mini-map, though this time Emma was already clear of the flood, having done nothing but walk coreward after dealing with Dione. Accordingly, she was happy to stay where she was, leisurely pulling the safety from the stun grenade, priming it, and dropping it off the ledge, where it landed right next to the surviving girl, and then there was light.
Chapter 216: Shock and Awe
Chapter 216: Shock and Awe
Emma backed away from the ledge immediately after dropping the payload, making sure to put some solid ground between them. Even so, the explosion was shockingly loud, making her teeth rattle and leaving a distinct ringing noise in her ears.
[It¡¯s a good thing this body is temporary, because you¡¯ve got tinnitus.]
True enough, while the light was gone in a flash and the floaters in her vision soon followed, the persistent buzzing in her ears remained, clinging stubbornly to the edge of her hearing. It was quiet enough that Emma was able to tune it out by refocusing on the action, peering back over the ledge to check on the state of the remaining girl.
¡°Is she dead?¡± Emma blinked, seeing her prone form sprawled along the floor, her head down in a slowly expanding pool of blood. ¡°That was a flashbang, right?¡±
[They¡¯re supposed to be less lethal, but at the end of the day, they¡¯re still compact explosive devices, even if there¡¯s no shrapnel by design. Taking that shockwave point blank to the head will kill.]
¡°Guess I timed it just right then,¡± Emma shrugged.
She¡¯d anticipated an easy kill anyway, dropping down on a stunned opponent, so this only saved her a a bit of time, rather than changing the course of the battle in any way. Emma still did her due diligence, searching the three bodies left behind, but there was little of note to be found. The flintlock was irreparably damaged, the barrel bent ninety degrees, while neither of the machetes boasted any special property nor came with a sheath, making them somewhat of a liability. Emma was contemplating bringing one regardless, perhaps by fashioning a makeshift belt to attach it to, when the sky lit up in flares of red. Ten wooden crates descended, falling slowly to the ground with the aid of parachutes, spread roughly equally across the remaining battlefield.
¡°A supply drop,¡± Emma murmured, keeping an eye on the closest crate as it drifted towards her. ¡°We¡¯re really hitting all the battle royale tropes tonight.¡±
Emma wasn¡¯t sure if the distribution was rigged, or she was simply very lucky, because the crate she¡¯d been watching landed just a few feet away, barely needing her to move to collect it, and she¡¯d just cleared out the nearby opponents, leaving no competition for the goods. That wasn¡¯t the case everywhere, of course, and there were still more than ten combatants remaining, leading to a fresh exchange of shouts, screams and gunshots in the periphery. The loot thus far had been pretty sparse, so nobody was going to pass up the chance to get something better for the final rounds.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
[There can¡¯t be more than twenty people remaining, and that number will be close to ten by the time the final crate is emptied.]
¡°All of the casuals trying to fight without magic for the first time should be gone by now,¡± Emma agreed. ¡°Anyone who¡¯s lasted this long will have fought multiple times by now, unless they¡¯re really good at hiding. Either way, they¡¯ll be some of the toughest to enter the competition. Now, let¡¯s see what we¡¯ve got here.¡±
Unlike the previous crates, these ones didn¡¯t spawn open, instead necessitating a bit of fiddling with half a dozen metal switches fastened along the sides. It proved well worth the effort however, as Emma¡¯s eyes lit up immediately upon lifting the cover.
[Refuge in Audacity: You are invisible while standing still.]
The bulky black cloak didn¡¯t quite grant total invisibility, but it was still a potent tool of concealment and the first magical item Emma had found in the contest, not counting Dione¡¯s bag of cheats. She wasted no time putting it on, the effect taking hold shortly after to leave her looking translucent; not entirely invisible to herself, but different enough from the everyday to let her know it was active. As soon as she began to move, her body returned to normal, the transition entirely seamless. Having received such a boon, Emma naturally decided that she¡¯d play the camper for the time being; it was clearly what fate wanted from her. Accordingly, she stood stock still at the highest point around, looking into the distance as the occasional flash of light could be seen.
¡°Just ten contestants remain!¡± Felix¡¯s voice declared just minutes later, a testament to the fierce competition for the remaining crates. ¡°For the final stage of the festivities, all remaining participants will be teleported directly into the final arena. Please stand by.¡±
¡°Saves me the trouble of having to move,¡± Emma grinned, sitting to minimise her target profile and waiting calmly to be transferred.
¡ª
¡°Please, surely we can make a deal,¡± Dione pleaded, tears in his eyes as he begged his captor for mercy.
He was back in his original body, for all the good that did him. He¡¯d woken up on his back, stripped of nearly all his belongings; left with his boxers and heavy cuffs affixed to his wrists and ankles. The latter featured paired enchantments, one that tripled the effect of gravity on his body, and another that sealed off his access to mana; between them, Dione was left entirely helpless.
¡°We could, but I just don¡¯t feel like it,¡± Felix taunted him, the taller man by virtue of being the only one standing upright. ¡°I was having a great time, testing out the portable virtual arena for the first time with actual people rather than my captive audience, and you just had to ruin it with your contraband goods. Parading you around for the amusement of the honourable contestants is only fair, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±
Dione did not in fact agree, but Felix was already tired of his complaints, so with a wave of his hand, the unfortunate cheater received a final piece of clothing: a simple cloth gag to keep him quiet. Satisfied that there would be no further interruption from that quarter, Felix turned back to the main screen, as the final ten contenders came into view.
Chapter 217: Worthy Opponents
Chapter 217: Worthy Opponents
Emma made sure to remain perfectly still, even as the floor began to move beneath her. Instead of the teleportation she¡¯d been expecting, the raised segments of the arena were lowering themselves down to ground level, while the surface smoothed out at a forty-five degree angle, creating an impromptu slide towards the middle of the room. She didn¡¯t have a great field of view, but it wasn¡¯t worth the risk of disrupting her stealth just for a sneak peek, not when she lacked any ranged weaponry to really take advantage of what she saw. Not everybody had that problem, as the odd gunshot rang out, though by the sound of it they only managed to hit metal, bouncing off the sloped floor off to who knows where.
Aim probably isn¡¯t great when rolling down a slope, not with the weapons available for this event.
Emma held her crowbar tight, having failed to find anything better through what was a fairly stingy event. It wasn¡¯t bad, strictly speaking, but the absence of magic made it rather lackluster compared to her recent battles.
[Felix didn¡¯t want to go too crazy for what was only a test event. Packet injection issues aside, I expect this format to be the norm going forward as well. He could use more modern weapons, but then the fights don¡¯t last long enough, since modern firepower is a lot better than modern armour without magic to balance things out. Too much magic would defeat the purpose, which is to have an event more reliant on physical attributes; a rare novelty in the Empire.]
Another gunshot rang out, and this time coinciding with a strangled scream and her slip and slide adventure coming to a halt. Emma could only see the final arena through her mini-map, which indicated an area no larger than the typical warehouse interior, finally bringing the aesthetics of the arena down to a realistic size.
Couldn¡¯t hear anything being brought back up, so probably a flat arena for the final round? Felix never did like games of hide and seek.
Emma had been dropped near the centre of the arena, empty save for herself, as everyone else was too busy fighting each other to pay any attention to an empty patch of land. That didn¡¯t mean she was entirely safe, as the odd bullet whizzed by at the beginning, thankfully not hitting her before they were quickly phased out, as people drew too close to each other and switched to the clashing of blades instead. Anybody who made it this far was going to be skilled, and Emma had no idea who was who, so the best she could do was wait for a target of opportunity. Another scream, then two, then three, and still Emma waited, until finally someone¡¯s ankle came just a little too close for comfort.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Her crowbar didn¡¯t do much damage, not with the limited leverage she had from the floor. That would have been an exercise in futility, so instead Emma used it for a far more practical purpose, tripping her opponent by holding it just behind his boot.
That broke Emma¡¯s stealth, so she was free to turn upward, seeing a stocky man falling comically onto his back next to her, something his opponent immediately capitalised on, spearing him in the forehead.
[Finality: This spear¡¯s tip bypasses non-living targets.]
As the downed man breathed his last, one final announcement rang out across the arena.
¡°Only five contestants remain! From this point onward, the arena will slowly shrink until the last man standing!¡±
Emma was reminded of the Manton Effect as she brought her crowbar up alongside her, attempting another low blow that forced her opponent to backpedal. She stepped to the left of his retaliatory stab, since blocking it was impossible; before he proved skilled enough to turn it into a sideswipe, wielding the heavy wooden staff like a bludgeon. Emma caught this follow-up using her crowbar, because the enchantment in place only accepted the metal tip and not the rest of the spear. That didn¡¯t make it easy though, as her opponent had an edge in strength and leverage, forcing her back a step with his two-handed swing. Emma tried to replicate her success against Dione with another throat punch, but her new foe was also used to fighting with his whole body, snapping out a quick kick that made her back off, aborting her attack instead of exchanging injuries.
¡°Looks like all the weaklings are gone,¡± Emma laughed, settling back into a one handed grip of her crowbar as they eyed each other up.
Her opponent wasn¡¯t much to look at, wearing a grey floor-length hoodie and a balaclava, rounding it off with a pair of sneakers straight out of a Sports Direct box, but he held his spear with the ease of many long hours of practice. He gave no verbal reply, instead snapping three rapid signs with his free hand, ending on a picture perfect salute.
[Worthy opponents are to be treasured, he says, in Imperial Battle Sign. This one has combat experience beyond just waving his wand around.]
Emma nodded, already prepared for a drawn out battle against a difficult opponent; not the worst thing in the world, except for the fact that this left three combatants unaccounted for, and she couldn¡¯t spare the attention to monitor the wider arena.
¡°Let¡¯s take this closer to the edge, so we can¡¯t be attacked from behind.¡±
He tilted his head, before nodding, leaping back fearlessly to land not far from the glowing red barrier that marked the end zone, gradually creeping inward at a glacial pace. Emma didn¡¯t follow him the same way, being too familiar with the end of the Prequel Trilogy to risk an unfriendly welcome, instead approaching at a sedate walk, until they were both face to face once more, ten feet and change apart. They stared at each-other, neither keen to make the first move, until someone else took the choice out of their hands.
¡°I¡¯ve had enough of this! Burn!¡±
Chapter 218: You鈥檙e Fired
Chapter 218: You¡¯re Fired
¡°I¡¯ve had enough of this! Burn!¡±
A wave of heat slammed into Emma, followed immediately after by a deafening crackle as the air ignited, searing her skin despite her relatively distance to the epicentre. Her own opponent took the chance to lunge forward, stabbing at her ribs in the hopes she was distracted, but it was a half hearted probe at best. He didn¡¯t want to risk losing the spear over such a move, so the moment Emma reached for the haft, he immediately backed out of reach, not even going for a contest of strength he was likely favoured in. It wasn¡¯t necessarily the choice Emma would have made, were their situations reversed, but she still appreciated it in the moment, as it gave her the chance to turn her head and observe the mess over in the middle.
One man was dead centre, surrounded by red flames that left him entirely untouched, his body the familiar translucent sheen that denoted Emma¡¯s own intangibility. Behind him, a chunk of the floor slowly lowered itself back into place, the last fading flickers of magic bleeding away into the night as their creator stepped out from behind, completely unharmed. Finally, the culprit responsible for the fireball hovered ten feet up in the air, both arms outstretched with a gobsmacked expression on his face at his failure to kill either of his opponents. In tune with his emotions, the flames beneath his feet died out, but before he could come back down to earth, an immense purple hand grabbed him out of thin air, gripping him hard enough that Emma could hear his bones crack even through his scream of pain.
Felix emerged next to him, walking on air with no need for external propulsion, the Games Master naturally needing no such support within the confines of his own arena. His face was purple, nearly matching the hue of his toga out of sheer rage, his eyes alternating between each of the three offenders in sequence; because they were surely offendings, having all cheated to cast spells in an ostensibly magic-free environment.
¡°All three of you,¡± Felix growled, confirming Emma¡¯s thoughts in real-time. "You couldn¡¯t even have the grace to use smuggled magical items, at least making an effort to stay in theme? I¡¯d have permitted that, and only arranged for a little humiliation to balance the scales, but no, you just had to bind instant spells to your souls, completing flouting the restrictions on magic before letting them loose in my arena. Did you even know what you were doing? Magic cannot be freely used in an environment where the laws of physics exclude it. If I didn¡¯t have contingencies in place for exactly this scenario, you would have been ejected instantly from the simulation, with a very real chance of serious mental damage from the sudden return to bodies of flesh and blood!¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Judging by the paling of the two contestants on the floor, they did not in fact know of this potential problem. The man caught in the hand only sneered, glaring daggers at Felix for all the good that did.
¡°So you did know, but thought you could handle it. It wouldn¡¯t even have won you the event, not with two more contestants out of the line of fire, but you just couldn¡¯t stand being shown up, could you? What a mess.¡±
By now, neither Emma nor her opponent even bothered with the pretence of battle; both of them were openly watching Felix as he delivered his condemnation to the rest of the field.
¡°Contestants 14 and 79, since you only used your spells in self-defence against the aggressor, never using them up until that point, I¡¯ll let you off just this once. You¡¯ll still have to pay a penalty in the post-event debrief, the circumstances of which will be changed to account for this rampant cheating, but you¡¯ll be permitted the chance to win the event fairly.¡±
Both of them gasped as a purple collar appeared around their necks, digging into the flesh in a manner that could not possibly be comfortable.
[Null Collar: Suppresses the magic of the wearer to negligible levels, barely enough to be considered alive and far from the amount needed to activate even the weakest magical artefact.]
¡°Thank you for your leniency,¡± both of them bowed gracefully, demonstrating both noble bearing and a refreshing degree of common sense compared to some of Emma¡¯s earlier opponents.
¡°As for you,¡± Felix ignored them both, preferring to focus on the main subject of his ire. ¡°The aggressor, the unrepentant, the one most certainly in the wrong. Since you¡¯re so keen to dispense with the rules I set, I feel no need to keep to them myself, and am thus happy to name you as Johan Weber of no fixed abode, a recent graduate of the Imperial College of Magic.¡±
With a wave of his hand, Johan¡¯s disguise faded away, the face of a tanned blonde man replaced by a gaunt teenager, pale as the grave with sunken cheeks and thick rimmed spectacles on display.
¡°I had to do it!¡± Johan complained, still trying to justify himself before the judge. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a fancy surname or a powerful backer to give me a plum job after graduation, unlike the rest of them. This was my one shot to impress, you have to understand!¡±
¡°Well, you¡¯ve certainly impressed me,¡± Felix smiled, a thin-lipped little smirk that was always the prelude to trouble. ¡°Not for good reasons, but you have. Since you¡¯re so desperate for employment, it just so happens that I¡¯m in a spot to help you out. For making a mockery of the rules in a sanctioned event, I sentence you to ten years of menial labour in my Academia. Oh, and as for your participation in tonight¡¯s event? You¡¯re fired!¡±
Adding insult to injury, Felix punctuated his last word with a much larger fireball than Johan had managed; incinerated the boy in the blink of an eye.
¡°Now that that¡¯s taken care of, you can all get back to it,¡± Felix remarked absently, barely sparing Emma a glance before vanishing back to whence he came.
Emma spun around just in time to dodge the spear aimed at her head.
Chapter 219: Kawarimi
Chapter 219: Kawarimi
The short reprieve was nice, insofar as it gave Emma a chance to rest, but it did nothing to alter the dynamic once fighting resumed. A cloak that turned her invisible while staying still didn¡¯t do much good, not when her opponent had kept track of her last known position, so she was still forced to dodge and thereby dispel the effect. That wasn¡¯t to say Refuge in Audacity had become useless however, because it was still a heavy, full body cloak, which gave Emma an idea. Her opponent was doing things by the book, relying on a swift stab forward followed by immediate retreat to maximise the effect of the speartip¡¯s magic, all while keeping himself safe from retaliation.
Unlike the case of Dione¡¯s rapier, her latest opponent didn¡¯t have to fear a clash of weapons, because his speartip was unblockable, meaning Emma¡¯s only options were either to dodge or deflect. It wasn¡¯t particularly difficult, but if she did nothing except play defence, then sooner or later she¡¯d make a mistake, and the match would be over. Emma wasn¡¯t willing to accept such an end, so after a good dozen dodges to lull the enemy into a false sense of security, she reached up to her neck and pulled. When the next stab came, she ducked low to the ground and let Finality strike true, the spear piercing straight through the cloak that she discarded. The added weight wasn¡¯t much, but even a few pounds added to the end of the spear was enough to slow it down, which, when combined with the garment it was entangled with, gave Emma an opening for one clean hit.
She made it count, smashing her crowbar into an exposed forehead. That alone wasn¡¯t enough to kill, not at her present strength, but it was enough to drive a man to his knees. There was no playing around this time, as Emma had a healthy respect for her opponent¡¯s prowess, immediately circling behind him and delivering a double tap: a two-handed strike against the back of his head. Blunt force trauma did its work, and he was no more.
[Torn Cloak]
It wasn¡¯t a flawless victory, but the loss of her stealth didn¡¯t bother Emma, not when she was already in the endgame. More importantly, Finality was still intact, the magical spear representing her first true upgrade for a main weapon.
¡°That¡¯s a shame,¡± Emma sighed, pulling the weapon free from its linen prison and testing its weight in one hand.
It would have been a lot more useful if she knew anything about wielding a spear, but all her training and System-granted memories had focused on swordplay up to this point. Even Sectmaster Horizon hadn¡¯t bothered to show her anything, in the few exchanges where he showcased a weapon, so she was entirely on her own here. Emma turned back towards the middle of the arena, where the two remaining cheaters were still locked in battle. The one dead centre was perhaps the most traditional of them all, a gladiator wielding his shortsword alongside a small rounded shield. His opponent had been partially disarmed in the interim, a trident laying discarded to the side, while he retained only a weighted net and his helmet, neither of which were enough to save his position.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He made several abortive attempts to retrieve this trident, his only offensive weapon, but all of them swiftly blocked by his opponent, who refused to let him regain control of the fight. As it was, all the unlucky fisherman could achieve was to tie down his opponent¡¯s sword in his net, which still left him exposed to several shield slams, leaving him bruised and battered. On one occasion, their eyes met, and he directed a hopeful look towards Emma, who only shrugged in reply; both of the cheaters were strangers in her eyes, so she saw no reason to interfere in the natural course of the fight. Without her jumping in as a surprise third wheel, the sword and board ultimately prevailed; as one final shield bash to the wrist made the fisherman drop his net, and a sword found his ribs shortly thereafter. It wasn¡¯t a clean hit, and required several follow up stabs to see the battle through, which of course raises the question: what was Emma doing while all this was happening?
¡°It¡¯s all in the shoulders,¡± Emma muttered, her legs bent and her feet wide apart as she tried to recall what nuggets of wisdom she could.
After all, she¡¯d never fought up close with a spear in her life, and wasn¡¯t about to try for the first time against a practiced opponent, but there was one aspect of such a weapon she¡¯d encountered before: the javelin toss. A relatively popular competition in England, which boasted a number of Olympic medallists in living memory; here, like in the Olympics, it all came down to a single throw. Emma wasn¡¯t great at it, but her opponent was only twenty metres away, a far cry from the sixty plus that featured in high level competition. With a mighty heave, Finality flew true, embedding itself in the gladiator¡¯s right shoulder, maiming and disabling his sword arm. To his credit, he reacted relatively quickly, even dropping his shield to transfer his sword to the off-hand, fighting through the pay to receive Emma¡¯s charge in a brave last stand.
It didn¡¯t help, because Emma had made it through the event untouched, while fatigue and blood loss ate away at him, but at least when all was said and done, he died on his feet. Emma didn¡¯t bother dodging his desperate stab, instead grabbing the gladius barehanded. She got a maimed hand for her trouble, but it was far too late to matter, and got the job done, locking down his only working hand while her second went to work. Three swings of her crowbar later, and the job was done.
[Can¡¯t believe you did all that before Half-Life 3 came out.]
Emma laughed at that, and was still laughing when the arena began to fade to white, signalling the end of the first night¡¯s entertainment.
Chapter 220: Back Online
Chapter 220: Back Online
When her sight returned, Emma found herself back in the prison cell where the event began. She had been seamlessly returned to her true form, and even Sir Bearington was there to greet her, having remained active whilst her mind was busy elsewhere.
[Reboot successful!
System functionality restored.
Emma Knight
-
Public Title: Practitioner
-
Hidden Title: Auditor
-
Commendation: Order of the Empire, First Class
True Form: Level 17 Damned Apostle
-
Anima: 500
-
EXP: 13,124/14,000
Abilities
-
Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
-
Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows of ambient anima.
-
No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when defeated. Captured: The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode, Duplicate, Monitor Lizard (In front of tent)
-
Flying Sword: Epitaph can change size, and fly up to 60 miles per hour.
-
Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
-
Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
-
Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, killing anyone who saw it.
-
Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
-
Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: OFF): Attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
-
Ephemera (Toggle: OFF): Become intangible.
-
Null Zone (Toggle: OFF): All incoming magic fails.
-
One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
-
Babble Fish: You are fluent in every language.
-
Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.
-
Home Is Where the Hearth Is - EXP gains doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 10 Chandler Stored in Eden¡¯s Echo when not in use.
-
HP: 100
-
MP: 100
-
EXP: 2025/3000
Appearance
-
Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
Clothes
Traits
-
I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
-
Everlasting: Your candles will last forever, barring external interference.
-
Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
-
Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
-
Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
-
Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
-
Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
-
Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
-
Chaos: Emits a different negative effect each time it¡¯s lit.
-
Pathfinder: Creates a link between two candles. When both are lit, a portal is formed.
-
Guardian: While lit, you are invulnerable within your own home.
-
Toxic: This candle¡¯s fumes are deadly.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
-
Eternal Wind: No matter near or far, all are one. Light a candle with yourself for two ships in the night, build a bridge where none still stand.
-
24,899 Thrones
-
Qilin Horn
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A Practical Guide to Entropy
-
Portable Crafting Bench
-
Blueprints - Menagerie
-
Crystal Emporium Voucher (50% off)
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
-
Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra once it has enough heads.
-
Bonus Reward: ???
Who Wants To Live Forever?
-
Objective: Pay your respects at the Grave of Sectmaster Horizon.
-
Objective: Discover who manipulated his Son to turn against the Empire.
-
Bonus Objective: ???
-
Reward: ???
-
Bonus Reward: ???]
The System was happy to be back as well, flooding Emma¡¯s field of view with a massive wall of text.
¡°Could you not?¡± Emma complained, giving it a cursory scan to ensure everything was in order, before promptly dismissing it, having found no changes except the 100 Thrones deducted for the entry fee.
[Status update on reboot disabled.]
¡°Welcome back contestants!¡± Felix declared, speaking through the mirror on the wall once more.
¡°I hope all of you had a good time, exploring the limits of mortality in a format unfamiliar to most of you. From a technical standpoint, the event was a great success, demonstrating the viability of our simulated arena and compatibility with all the orthodox branches of magic practised in Europe.¡±
Emma noted that Felix didn¡¯t elaborate as to what those particular branches were, either because they were common knowledge or to preserve the privacy of the entrants.
¡°All that¡¯s left is the final debrief before we bring tonight¡¯s gathering to a close. As mentioned in the invitations, there¡¯s no prize for this event except bragging rights, so there¡¯s no need to stay if you aren¡¯t interested. Simply take the portal behind you, and you¡¯ll leave the premises with nobody the wiser.¡±
Emma glanced behind her, finding that a gateway had opened silently without warning, possibly as soon as Felix announced it. She had no intention of taking it, being the winner of the night, but it was nice to confirm that the choice was hers alone..
¡°The only exceptions are the two cheaters yet to receive their penalties, which you may be interested in seeing. The portals will be open for just five minutes, so leave now if you want to, because after that, everyone who remains will be brought together, and this time there will be no disguises.¡±
As before, there was little to do on Emma¡¯s end except wait for the allotted time to expire; at least it was only a few minutes this time, rather than a slow countdown to midnight.
[Sir Bearington dismissed.]
The only change she made was to dismiss her summon, as he¡¯d only been brought out to annoy Felix, so there was no reason to keep him in the cell any longer. Soon enough, the second transit took place, and the dreary prison cell disappeared. Unlike before, the transition wasn¡¯t nearly so seamless, and Emma even felt a brief pang of nausea as her surroundings reformed.
[This is an actual teleport, rather than the beginning of another simulation.]
Emma emerged inside an unfamiliar structure, still indoors but boasting a very different atmosphere to her previous abode. The walls and ceilings were built entirely out of wood, exposed beams and supports holding the sloped rooftop in place without any attempts at beautification. The floor was simple dirt, broken up by long tables laden with a smorgasbord that reached for the skies, balancing precariously and nearly spilling over the edge in places. Basketfuls of bread, a dozen varieties of soft and hard cheese by the platter, and line caught fish, expertly skinned and nearly translucent in the dim light. The drinks were not nearly so diverse, and it was their uniformity that finally clued Emma in on the theme of the building.
¡°A mead hall?¡± Emma tilted her head, grabbing a hollow horn the size of her forearm, filled to the brim with strong mead spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg.
She was tempted to switch to the homunculus and dig in, though ultimately she refrained for the time being; her armoured form could still drink, so that was what she did, drinking her fill as the rest of the contestants began to appear as well.
Chapter 221: Meet The Crew
Chapter 221: Meet The Crew
¡°This is a bit of a departure from the Roman aesthetic,¡± Emma noted, giving the mead a try as she watched individuals and small groups begin to teleport into the hall.
It was a bit spicier than she was used to, but overall similar enough to the mulled wine she had every Christmas, that it remained just about palatable.
[Felix wanted to keep on theme to begin with, and succeeded for the most part, but negative connotations kept coming up during alpha and beta testing in the area of food service.]
¡°Such as?¡±
[The common idea that Roman socialites would eat until bursting, head to a designated Vomitorium to, ahem, reset the cycle, then heading right back to the main table for seconds.]
¡°Was that actually true?¡±
[Not in the slightest, but belief in the old myth was sufficiently widespread that Felix gave up on trying to correct. If you¡¯re explaining, you¡¯re losing, as the old saying goes; he deemed it a better idea to avoid the association entirely. The Hunger Games did not help here, though it was hardly the first work of fiction to portray the practice, just the most popular in recent memory.]
¡°Understandable,¡± Emma admitted, drinking far more slowly for her second sip. ¡°My appetite is already gone, just from thinking about it in the abstract.¡±
[There are worse choices; it still stays firmly in the age of myth. Battling to the death before resurrecting to feast, there are worse ways to spend an afterlife.]
Felix appeared next to me, indicating a probable end to the new arrivals, as Emma couldn¡¯t see him not having the last word, not when he was the host of the night¡¯s festivities. That was enough to get her to start examining the attendees in earnest; her first impression? There were far fewer of them than the ninety six competitors in the arena.
[Nobody likes showing up to class the day after failing an exam. The simple nature of a battle royale dictates that over half of those involved died without a single kill to their name. Others fell in humiliating fashion, and have no desire to revisit the circumstances irrespective of any achievements they accrued before then; it¡¯s like that old joke, if you build a thousand bridges and kill one child, guess which achievement makes the newspapers? Add on the people who were never going to reveal their identities irrespective of the results, whether due to political necessity, an issue with their appearance or simple disdain for the limelight, and the final tally of attendees becomes what you see before you today.]
¡°Alright, now that everybody is here, I suppose a few words are in order,¡± Felix declared, clapping his hands for attention.
The movement was hardly necessary, given how all present had turned to him the moment he arrived, but Felix was and would always be a fan of dramatics.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
¡°First of all, thank you for coming! This part of the festivities wasn¡¯t mandatory, outside of a chosen few, so it¡¯s great to have you here with me today. As a token of my appreciation, a surge of purest mana, straight from the leyline.¡±
A second clap of his hands, and everyone glowed momentarily.
[250 XP gained (Dungeon Master¡¯s discretion)]
Emma wasn¡¯t sure what everyone else got out of it, seeing as she was the only System user present, but it couldn¡¯t be too bad, judging by the approving murmurs of the crowd.
¡°Hopefully that will encourage future participation, especially in the official programme to be announced on Saturday.¡±
[The first hit is free.]
Emma nearly laughed aloud at that, though she managed to refrain, knowing that Felix wouldn¡¯t appreciate the interruption at such a juncture.
¡°Next up, since most of us here are new, I believe a round of introductions are in order. I am Felix Knight, your host and dungeon master for the night. Next to me is my big sister Emma, the champion of tonight¡¯s inaugural battle royale.¡±
Emma waved listlessly at the crowd, happy to be done with the most awkward part of any introduction: her own.
¡°Next up, another brother-sister duo, and the two cunning smugglers who brought spells imbued into their souls, a round of applause for Andrew and Andreas Murphy.¡±
The two contenders from the final round looked much the same as they had in the arena, which is to say that none of their features could stick to Emma¡¯s mind, though their clothes were more evident, with the standardised gym uniforms replaced by formal suits and ties. The only distinguishing point was their hair, the former kept high and tight, while the latter had shoulder length tresses flowing freely around and behind.
I know I¡¯m not that bad with faces, what¡¯s going on here? Emma complained in her mind.
[The Murphy family specialise in stealth and infiltration, encapsulated in their family magic, The Everyman. It lets them adjust their features while also projecting an aura of belonging, letting them slip seamlessly into crowds and slip beneath notice. Even their current appearance is a courtesy to the guests, distinctive enough to identify them as strange; if they were on the job, they¡¯d be sticking to a single unremarkable appearance for each of them.]
If I activate Null Zone near them, would I get to see their real faces?
[Yes. You¡¯d also make enemies for life and start a blood feud with the entire family.]
Never mind, their faces can¡¯t be worth that much trouble.
¡°As mentioned earlier, they both have to pay a penalty for bringing in contraband, though I won¡¯t be too harsh, seeing as they only used them in response to prior treachery. If you work security for free at my next three events, helping to catch people trying to do what you did, I¡¯ll call it even.¡±
¡°We thank you for your benevolence,¡± both of them spoke and bowed simultaneously, adding to the general sense of uncanny valley.
¡°Next up, a young martial artist on exchange from the Far East, Tian Mao, and his entourage.¡±
Emma studied him closely; he was the one who came closest to defeating her at the end; even without that being specified, the spear on his back and the scar across his neck both gave the game away. The rest of him was less notable; a fit but angular body that prioritised agility over sheer muscle, fine silk robes and glowing golden eyes; not exactly normal, but far from the strangest Emma had seen, even before the apocalypse.
[Well fought.]
The translation from combat sign was seamless this time, now that Babel Fish was back online, no longer requiring Edith¡¯s direct intervention. She didn¡¯t bother paying attention to his entourage, as they were standing well behind him, heads bowed and out of the way. None of them had the aura of strength of the notable competitors, making Emma believe they showed up only out of obligation to their leader.
¡°These four, alongside the now indentured Johan Weber, were the five finalists of the match and therefore worthy of my personal introduction. The rest of you can do as you please, I¡¯m not eulogising your deaths unless you git good.¡±
On that unflattering note, Felix vanished from the room, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
Chapter 222: Bad Reputation
Chapter 222: Bad Reputation
Is Felix right about that? Emma asked, turning her attention to the buffet in lieu of having to approach anyone and potentially start up a conversation, which was never the easiest thing to do at a party full of strangers, even when they hadn¡¯t spent the past hour or so trying to kill each other.
[Felix deliberately worded it to piss people off, but the general sentiment is correct. The Empire, as a whole, is built upon reputation first and foremost. Practitioners and Magi can get by with money or maybe barter, but every Master will have more Thrones than they can spend and their choice of anything common in the world, magical or otherwise. Anything truly valuable at the highest level can only be obtained by leveraging relationships, whether that¡¯s research material from the top family in a particular field of magic, or rare resources from another age that were mined out centuries ago and only persist in hidden vaults.
Reputation is everything, and because of this, those who are part of magical society are taught from birth to be very careful in how they present themselves to their peers. Those who performed well and made it to the finals take centre stage tonight, because it''s your time to shine. Those whose performance left something to be desired will stay on the periphery, doing their best to keep their heads down in the hopes that their presence is forgotten, unless there are other factors to their presence, such as being the party of someone who is ascendant.]
¡°Seems about right, Emma admitted, scanning the room now that her drinking horn was empty.
Not counting the Eastern entourage, there were maybe a dozen or so people scattering along the edge of the hall, and they uniformly stuck to the buffet, stuffing their faces with table manners that varied greatly: from a few who wouldn¡¯t look out of place at a noble banquet to others who ate like it was the last call for breakfast at McDonald¡¯s. A few huddled together to talk, but none looked comfortable approaching any strangers, let alone the top four Felix called by name, all of whom were positioned near the centre of the stage when they arrived in a manner that was surely deliberate in hindsight. None of them appeared to the System either, which was clear evidence of magical concealment at play, because despite them not making it to the finals, Emma doubted they were helpless enough to warrant a Level 0 rating.
[It¡¯s not truly a secret gathering, because their appearances are still unaltered, so anyone who runs in the same circles will quickly recognise one another. Felix could have forced the issue and made everyone¡¯s name visible, but he clearly wasn¡¯t too invested in making friends, and declined to exercise that option.]The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°Fine by me,¡± Emma shrugged, happy to leave them to their own affairs.
She¡¯d never particularly cared about games of status, not in school and not now, and she likewise wasn¡¯t extroverted enough to go out of her way to befriend total strangers. If they had the guts to approach her, she might have been more interested, but it didn¡¯t look like that was going to happen any time soon. Emma was contemplating swapping to her homunculus for a proper meal, when a thought came to mind that she couldn¡¯t help but voice.
¡°Would I ever have been introduced to magical society, if the System never activated?¡±
[No, but the question is rhetorical at best. The terminus was always going to happen during your lifetime; I was able to narrow it down that much, even if the precise date and time eluded me until it happened. Realistically, it could have happened when you were ten or not until you were forty-five; maybe it would¡¯ve been another Class to begin with as well, but there was a one-hundred percent chance of activation. It¡¯s more uncertain with transplants, but a direct descendant gets priority access during times of crisis, so that was never in doubt for you.]
¡°Fair enough.¡±
Emma waited to see if anyone would approach, she really did, but the sibling pair were chatting up a storm with each other, while Tian Mao had a dozen people vying for his attention at any given time, all of them formed up in a protective cocoon around him that she found a bit ridiculous; he was the strongest one among them, for god¡¯s sake.
¡°Is there a time limit on tonight?¡±
[Sunrise, officially, though I imagine everyone will clear out after an hour or two, unless they happen to be very heavy drinkers.]
¡°That¡¯s plenty of time for a meal first,¡± Emma decided, finally swapping over to the homunculus.
The spare body was still somewhat lacking in the clothing department, something that never seemed to reach the top of the priority list despite being a recurring problem since it was purchased; the broken spacesuit looked very out of place in the viking hall, but it was intact enough to preserve her modest, and the helmet was gone, so she was able to eat with it at least. She¡¯d never tried Scandinavian food before, and was a little lost at the selection, but there was enough that was familiar for her not to go hungry. Emma ended up opting for a big hunk of sourdough bread, fresh Cheddar and Red Leicester cheese alongside fresh tuna and finely chopped pickles; not the fanciest of foods, but close enough to the old Ploughman¡¯s Lunch in its flavour and simplicity of eating on the move, without any cutlery in sight.
Not everything was quite so pleasant however, as Emma made the mistake of opening a bowl of gelatinous white fish, only to gag and drop the lid right back on, hard enough to crack it.
¡°What was that?¡± Emma asked, a hand over her nose; while it wasn¡¯t the worst smell she¡¯d ever encountered, most of those hadn¡¯t been served for dinner.
[Lutefisk, a specialty dish in those parts. It¡¯s like Marmite, people either love or hate it.]
¡°I wonder why.¡±
Chapter 223: Midnight Sun
Chapter 223: Midnight Sun
Nobody approached Emma in the end, leaving her to eat in peace and quiet. She¡¯d learned from the Lutefisk incident, and stuck to familiar foods from then on, loading up on carbs in a manner familiar to athletes everywhere as she helped herself to all of the bread within reach. The same couldn¡¯t be said of the other finalists however, as the Murphy siblings received several entreaties from those brave enough to head over to their table. Tian Mao¡¯s entourage had a few as well, though most of them were turned away, and only one stayed to exchange words with the cultivator, because Emma was pretty sure he was one from the mannerisms alone.
Is it the spacesuit? Emma wondered as she watched a few of those on the margins head for the exit, their appetite for food and social interaction both satisfied. It can¡¯t be my face, can it? I¡¯m mostly normal in this form.
[They¡¯re mostly afraid of your social status. There aren¡¯t many Knights left in the world, the surname gradually falling out of fashion with the advent of modernity. When combined with Felix¡¯s introduction, it was pretty clear to everyone who you were, even for those who haven¡¯t heard about your commendation. I¡¯m sure some of them wanted to approach, but doing so without someone to formally introduce you is a risk, one nobody wants to be the first to take.]
That¡¯s the other thing, Emma noted, glad that it wasn¡¯t her tangible qualities putting people off but rather some more social nonsense. Why is everybody here around my age? I was expecting a bit more diversity in the crowd, given how long magicals have been shown to live.
[Ignoring the dig at my age, that¡¯s a combination of a few factors at play tonight. First is the choice of event, which is only one of several, as you know. A contest of physical strength is more likely to appeal to the young, whereas the more experienced practitioners have seen it all before, and are likely to prioritise their existing hobbies or more intellectual pursuits in general. Secondly, this is only the first night of the weeklong gathering, and the first of three days for Practitioners to arrive. While there are no formal restrictions on where and when they appear, it¡¯s customary for the strongest to save themselves for last, so to speak. They are known to hold back on earlier events, to avoid dominating the field and give the new generation a chance to shine, and because there¡¯s little glory to be gained by an eighty year old man beating people young enough to be his grandchildren. This can change, if the prize on offer is good enough, but people generally stick to these unwritten rules.]If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
The first night¡¯s events are the easiest then?
[The least complex, yes; difficulty is a bit too subjective so we¡¯ll leave aside. Third and finally, the older someone is, the more likely they are to already have an established circle of friends in the community, as well as ready access to resources earned by their own merits or through commerce. The rewards of the nightly competitions, both literal and metaphorical, are lessened, and they may simply prefer to spend the daytime socialising and the night in bed. Your Mother, for example, is unlikely to participate in any competitions these first nights, in favour of catching up with her fellow magical girls. Your Father is a bit more uncertain in that respect.]
I see.
Emma waited for a bit longer after she ate her fill, just in case anybody wanted to try their luck, but when nobody came over to strike up a conversation, she became the latest to bow out, heading for the door. One slight surprise came at the end there, when instead of emerging from where she¡¯d entered, she found herself outside the family tent, complete with fading claw marks from where the Monitor Lizard had stood vigil not long ago.
[You could have reached out yourself, rather than waiting for someone to make the first move.]
¡°I could have,¡± Emma agreed. ¡°Would I have gained much from it?¡±
[Not particularly. The important ones in the room now know you exist, and that¡¯s all you really needed from the night. You¡¯ll see some of them again, in a less awkward setting.]
¡°Then it¡¯s all good,¡± Emma shrugged, heading for her bed and a proper day¡¯s sleep.
It was already sunrise, so she was aiming to be up sometime between the afternoon and the evening. Everyone¡¯s schedules would be different, but there was still the chance for a family dinner before the next night¡¯s entertainment, but only if she fell asleep quickly.
¡ª
¡°Finally,¡± Astrid heaved a sigh of relief as she pressed her hand to the old, withered tree, feeding it a steady stream of magic to rouse it from slumber.
Her map had said there was one nearby, in a grove that had long since been neglected with the rise of modern conveniences like the automobile, but she hadn¡¯t held out much hope given all that had happened recently. Miraculously though, the tree had survived both deforestation and the apocalypse, saving Astrid several hours of travel further South, which might have made her late for a second night in a row. She¡¯d never attended the Solstice in England, and was eager to experience the foreign tradition for herself, even if the idea of the sun setting at all during Summer still baffled her a little. Back in Lapland, the Midnight Sun rose during May, and would not set again until the end of July, meaning that the entire festival period was spent beneath the light.
¡°Alright, Mr. Fox, lead the way!¡±
Astrid declared, as the Decision Tree opened, revealing a path into the mist below.
¡°You can count on me!¡± Mr. Fox declared confidently, bounding into the fog without a care in the world.
He was born from the System, after all, and there was no force in England that would keep him from his original master.
Chapter 224: Breaking Bad
Chapter 224: Breaking Bad
¡°Come on!¡±
Saint growled, her claws carving furrows into the dirt as she strained her magic to the utmost as she bathed the small patch of dirt in a flood of green light. A handful of short brown roots stared back at her, determined not to budge or grow a single inch despite Saint having expended enough magic to bring a squad of men back from the brink of death to the very picture of health. Now thoroughly annoyed, Saint¡¯s ear flicked, as she sent a short burst of magic to the next row over, and was immediately rewarded with a healthy crop of small cucumbers; not big enough to take pride of place on any supermarket shelves, but more than sufficient to fill a few pickle jars. Allotments had become popular in Oxford, as a cheap and easy means of supplementing the food brought back by scavengers and the aid from the Empire. Much like during the Second World War, every garden boasted at least a few rectangular strips of dirt, growing common staples of fruit and veg that were well-suited for the local climate.
¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with my magic,¡± Saint concluded, her tail thumping against the ground and leaving tiny potholes in her wake. ¡°So why is this patch in particular so much more difficult?¡±
[You were the one who ordered the highest grade seeds for SoulSilver Vines, straight from the Empire¡¯s logistics division. It¡¯s never been grown successfully outside of China, and even there, it remains the exclusive provenance of sects that specialise in medicinal herbs, nourishing them in qi-rich soil, aided by fertilisers extracted from the cores of lesser sacred beasts and prepared by master potioneers. Even then, the crop yield is meagre, and the resulting product reserved for the likes of the Huan and the Fengli. Magical power alone isn¡¯t enough to brute force the growth, not in the quantities you are capable of providing.]
¡°Why didn¡¯t you warn me it would be this hard?¡± Saint groaned, rolling onto her back and raising a forlorn paw to the heavens.
To add insult to injury, a drop of rain landed square on her nose, setting off a fit of sneezing.
¡°I thought it was a fancy name for organic catnip, not some mythical reagent,¡± Saint complained, when her nose had stopped twitching and she was in a fit state to speak again.
[You ordered it behind Noah¡¯s back without consulting anybody until it arrived at your doorstep.]
¡°Ah. So these are the consequences of my actions,¡± Saint mewled, placing her paw to her heart in distress.
[Stop being dramatic, I didn¡¯t say it was impossible, just that you¡¯re not the best candidate for the job. Go get the Hydra.]The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°Eh?¡±
Saint wasn¡¯t sure how that would help, but she did as she was told; scrubbing the dirt from her paws before venturing back inside the house, where she found the Hydra snoozing by the hearth, making the most of the ambient heat radiating from the resident Fire Slime. Saint sent a surge of magic into the sleeping plant, which did nothing for the mythical being¡¯s growth, but was nonetheless an enjoyable experience for it; she¡¯d found that out early on in their relationship, so naturally, she used it whenever she was about to ask something of it. The head nearest to Saint rose to meet her, blinking the sleep out of its eyes before tilting in an unspoken question.
¡°Can you come to the garden? I could use some help growing a few seeds.¡±
The Hydra rose to its feet, trailing after Saint with two out of three heads still fast asleep, a delegation of duty that she couldn¡¯t help but envy; because who wouldn¡¯t want the ability to get things done while still snoozing away?
¡°Here we are,¡± Saint proclaimed grandly, pointing a claw at the sad looking patch that had defied her best efforts over the course of the morning. ¡°Come on and work your magic.¡±
The Hydra bent down and licked the nearest root, and upon finding the taste to his liking, pulled it out of the ground and began to chew.
¡°Hey, that¡¯s not what I wanted!¡± Saint protested, reaching out to pull the Hydra back, before a faint rustling caught her ears and stopped her cold.
Before her disbelieving eyes, fresh saplings erupted from the ground, rising as fast as her eye could follow and sprouting fresh greenery with every passing second. It looked nothing like the catnip she knew; the vines bearing stripes of blue and silver, while the leaves gleamed with an inner light that defied the dreary English morning. Then the smell hit, taking her breath away: quite literally, as Saint fell to the floor, legs twitching as a flood of sensation overwhelmed her senses. Everywhere she looked were bright spots of gold and silver, while the ground bounced her up and down, the surface as soft as a raincloud. A beautiful voice sang in a language she couldn¡¯t recognise but which brought tears to her eyes, while the purest mint flooded her nose and mouth, so sharp that it burned: of incense, magma and starlight, not necessarily in that order.
¡°I¡¯m floating?¡± Saint blinked, rolling to her side. ¡°No, I¡¯m falling. Falling? Why am I so high up? Heh. High. I could fall forever from here, you know?
We''re soarin'', flyin''
There''s not a star in heaven
That we can''t reach¡¡±
[That¡¯s quite enough of that. ?????]
Saint¡¯s spiritual journey was abruptly interrupted by the foulest stench she¡¯d ever encountered; suddenly, she was back on the ground, convulsing and vomiting. That lasted for barely any time at all, and far longer than Saint was comfortable with, even though the act itself was hardly new to her species. Still, it was enough to clear the rest of her senses in the process, and eventually she sat back up, cognizant once more to examine the damage done. Only a single sprig of Silver Vine remained, inhabiting a patch of dirt no bigger than a fingertip; surrounded by a pool of sand, utterly devoid of life.The Hydra was next to her, all three heads awake now and looking at the scene with trepidation.
¡°What just happened?¡±
[You just got your first taste of a reagent potent enough to raise a Sacred Beast to Core Formation. At your current strength, one sprig is acceptable. Any more than that, and your soul will begin to collapse under the strain. You¡¯re welcome.]
Chapter 225: The Emperors New Clothes
Chapter 225: The Emperor''s New Clothes
Emma woke up to a package being dropped on her head. Her hand flew up, swatting the offending object away and against the wall with a dull thud; all while Emma reached for her sword, before realising she was still in her homunculus. A note fluttered down from the ceiling, one she just barely caught before it reached the floor; a torn piece of scrap paper covered with a messy, barely legible scrawl she knew all too well.
¡°Got you something better than that battered old space suit, from the first run from our new production line.¡±
The package itself wasn¡¯t too eye-catching, being a standard cardboard box, every gap covered thanks to heavy application of brown tape. Trying to tear it off proved an exercise in futility, and after a few moments she switched to her armoured form, using the sharp tips of her gauntlets to rip the box open instead.
[It¡¯s about time you got some proper clothes.]
Switching seamlessly back to the homunculus, Emma left the space suit in storage this time, as she tried Felix¡¯s surprise gift on for size. She¡¯d never worn a tunic before, but it was close enough in size and function to a dress, so she managed to pull it on after a bit of experimenting; the long purple garment going from her shoulders down all the way, coming to a stop just above her ankles. The accompanying sandals were more familiar, being little different to those she¡¯d worn on previous holidays; the sole difference being a slight heel that added a bit of lift while stopping short of being unwieldy. She could already see a few issues with fighting in such clothes, mostly to do with the limited mobility for her legs, but the homunculus was never intended to be the main body for that, making the point largely moot.
¡°Not bad,¡± Emma admitted. ¡°Not what I would have picked, given the choice, but there was always something more important to do than go scavenging for clothes. I wonder what Felix meant about a production line?¡±
[He¡¯s been busy expanding his dungeon to accommodate the increasing number of survivors to find their way inside. The main focus is still on the colosseum and the associated games, but not everyone is willing or capable of fighting at the required standard, so he¡¯s been finding other ways for them to contribute. Not the most glamorous of roles, admittedly, but still much better than being eaten by demons.]
¡°That¡¯s a pretty low bar,¡± Emma pointed out. ¡°Is this a regular thing in the Empire? I know there¡¯s craftsmen and such, but I always thought that was just for magical items, and anything mundane would just be conjured up somehow, rather than needing a production line.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
[You¡¯d think so, but having magic by itself doesn¡¯t change the underlying reality of labour; nobody wants to do it unless there¡¯s a genuine incentive or need. Take that tunic as an example; I could conjure it in seconds, while most Masters would be able to do something similar by brute force, basically burning enough magic to directly manifest it in reality. Magi could achieve the same result within a few days of study to dust up on their spell models, as could Practitioners skilled in the relevant area of magic.
Of course, none of us have done anything like that in centuries, because it¡¯s generally much less effort to just buy one, as has been the case since industrialisation really kicked off in the mid-eighteenth century. In modern times, the rank and file of Empire society shopped on Amazon, while the more important ones might send their servants over to Harrods or Fortnum and Marson, you get the picture. With the recent, massive reduction in population, the Empire is getting directly involved in the supply chain again, but that¡¯s very much a work in progress.]
¡°Couldn¡¯t you automate the process with magic instead? Set up an ongoing spell to make X amount of shoes every hour, like the replicators in Star Trek?¡±
[That¡¯s been done before, mostly during wartime to quickly replenish supplies of consumables and ammunition. It works well to begin with, but the problem with magic is that it has a will of its own, to an extent, one that gets more and more leeway the longer a spell is kept active. That¡¯s not an issue if there¡¯s a trained Practitioner monitoring the situation the entire time, but that runs into the same issue of dignity mentioned prior. Leave the spell to its own devices, on the other hand, and you end up with an entire town¡¯s worth of people being reprocessed and turned into salt pork. Admittedly, both magical and scientific understanding have come a long way since the 1400s, so maybe a renewed attempt at automation would work better in the present day, but there¡¯s never been much appetite to test it out; and on that lovely note, it¡¯s time for dinner.]
¡°You timed that on purpose to gross me out,¡± Emma accused, her appetite not particularly impressed by the thought of long pork; though it wasn¡¯t enough to keep her in the bedroom as opposed to heading outside.
The moment Emma opened the door, the sharp scent of onions and garlic filled the air, undercut with a blend of herbs and spices that she quite couldn¡¯t put a name to. Heading into the kitchen, she found Noah hard at work at the hob, a large pot of green curry simmering gently as he stirred, adding a handful of lentils at regular intervals.
¡°You¡¯re cooking today?¡± Emma asked, looking around for Elizabeth but finding no sign of her.
¡°I was supposed to attend a meeting of regional mayors, but Liz volunteered to go instead; no complaints here, that¡¯s for sure. I much prefer cooking to governing, and I still don¡¯t know why anybody thought I was the right choice for the job¡¡±
[Most of them were directly appointed by the Empire, so they¡¯re part of the old crowd Elizabeth is already familiar with.]
¡°Say, can you chop the vegetables while I prepare the chicken? Save us all a bit of time.¡±
Emma hummed in acknowledgement, heading over to the counters where potatoes, carrots and mushrooms all awaited their turn under the knife. She was far from the best cook, but chopping things up was well within her wheelhouse these days.
Chapter 226: Now You鈥檙e Cooking
Chapter 226: Now You¡¯re Cooking
There was something soothing about a bit of manual labour, chopping up vegetables instead of woefully underprepared opponents. The final round had been somewhat challenging, but Emma couldn¡¯t help a bit of disappointment at the earlier stages of the battle royale.
[Eh, that¡¯s peacetime training for you. With global mana at a low ebb, and few resources in the wild worth competing for, most apprentices spend their youth in an academic setting, and only really start to stretch their wings after becoming Practitioners. I expect that to change drastically going forward; there¡¯s a lot less entertainment to consume their time, for a start.]
¡°Is that all it takes?¡± Emma snorted. ¡°Take away TikTok and Netflix, and watch as people regress to barbarity?¡±
[Bread and circuses is an enduring expression for good reason.]
In an amusing twist of fate that Edith definitely didn¡¯t line up in advance, several notifications arrived in quick succession, accompanied by a bass trombone, just as Emma finished off the last of carrots
[You have three invitations for Night 2 of the festivities!]
¡°Damn it,¡± Emma sighed, pulling her knife back out of the cutting board.
Her control was far too honed to accidentally injure herself, the surprise notwithstanding, but the poor kitchen supplies didn¡¯t share that same protection; nor were they rated for the strength of a distracted Half-Demon.
¡°This never happened when I was fighting, in far more chaotic situations at that.¡±
[Epitaph is an extension of your own soul, forged into a weapon. That allows for a level of granular control that a knife off the shelf could never match.]
¡°At least it¡¯s not broken,¡± Emma grumbled, giving the knife a once over just to be sure.
A quick rinse, and back into the kitchen drawer it went, drying itself off in seconds as the household charms did their work. Regrettably, those same charms didn¡¯t extend to repairs, forcing her to resort to a mundane solution: flipping the board over and hoping that nobody noticed. It hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things, but who wanted to be embarrassed when it could be avoided?
With that out of the way, Emma finally freed herself to look at the notification that caused this brief moment of panic.
[Masquerade: Paper faces on parade. Dance the night away in anonymity, shrouded by our best anti-recognition magic, freed from the restraints of class and decorum. Just watch out for the knives in the dark!]
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¡°Um.¡±
Emma read the last line a second time, and sure enough, it remained as it was.
¡°Is there some unwritten rule that says every event has to include a dangerous gimmick?¡±
[Not that I¡¯m aware of. It just tends to happen, because the ones in charge of organising events are old and eccentric Magi with too much time on their hands. Masquerade is a festival classic, and one of the tamer ones to be honest; knife wounds are far easier to deal with than last night¡¯s enchanted glasswork, for example.]
That wasn¡¯t particularly reassuring, though Emma held off on deleting the invitation, at least until she read the others.
[Puff Puff: An all you can eat buffet, featuring the most creative fugu chefs from Japan. Come on in and eat until you drop!]
¡°Alright, what¡¯s the hidden danger here?¡±
[Oh, there¡¯s nothing hidden for once, the danger here is out in the open. Fugu is one of the most poisonous dishes in human cuisine, to the point that it¡¯s illegal for a chef to serve it to guests without undergoing a rigorous, years-long apprenticeship followed by a gruelling final exam. Creativity is not a good thing when preparing fugu. That said, I¡¯m sure it will be delicious.]
¡°Tempting,¡± Emma admitted after a bit of thought. ¡°Though I¡¯m not sure it''s worth having to buy another homunculus, after the time I¡¯ve spent levelling this one. Maybe if I had more on hand to deal with poison, but as it stands? No.¡±
That particular invitation went in the bin, leaving only one still unread.
[I Am My Scars: Take turns carving each other up with ceremonial fencing swords. No blocking or dodging allowed, last man standing wins. Healthcare not included.]
¡°This is getting a bit ridiculous. Do I want to know how many people die at this festival every year?¡±
[Fewer than you¡¯d expect. Generally, anyone who actually enters these events will have either the necessary skill to survive, or the necessary backing to have lifesaving or even resurrection items on hand. Unblooded though they may be, most Practitioners have at least some sense of risk assessment or self preservation drilled into them. As for those who don¡¯t make the cut, Darwin says hello.]
¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I figured,¡± Emma sighed. ¡°So, out of the three choices, poisonous puffer fish is a definite no, unless you know an alchemist nearby who can do a rush order for antidotes. As for the rest, what do you think? Test our defences with some fencing, since it only says no blocking or dodging and nothing about magic; go for a dance; or stay home for the night?¡±
[Mhm. If you ask me, the Masquerade has limited value for you. It¡¯s mostly beneficial for those in lower positions to mingle without the risk of offending someone higher up. You are one of those higher ups, so pass on that. Fencing could be really funny or really painful, depending on whether your opponent can actually deal with your skillset. I¡¯d say go for it, barring any surprises between now and tonight.]
¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± Emma agreed, deleting Masquerade from her inbox while leaving the third option intact, but not accepting it just yet.
Looking over to the hob, she found Noah staring off into the distance as well, likely organising his own diary for the night, albeit with less commentary than her own back and forth with Edith. There didn¡¯t look to be anything left to cut up, so Emma took that as her cue to vacate the kitchen, heading out to see if she could find the surprise being hinted at.
Chapter 227: Special Delivery
Chapter 227: Special Delivery
Emma didn''t get far on her search for a surprise. Part of that was intentional, as she didn''t want to go too far away, lest she miss dinner over a mere hunch. Wandering aimlessly past rows of tents, she saw plenty of servants of the move, transporting everything from caviar already loaded onto silver spoons, to more conventional supplies like pallets of beer and toilet paper. Far more scarce were the actual attendees of the festival, most of which were probably still sleeping off the previous night of entertainment, never mind that it was already the afternoon.
[If anything, it''s a return to form for the noble classes. Rising and setting with the Sun only mattered for labourers in the fields or industry, who needed the light to guide their day. Most of the elite either earned passive income through land or other services, allowing them the luxury of a far more flexible schedule. Revels until sunrise followed by sleeping the day away were hardly uncommon; they could afford the candles and lamps.]
"Guess we struck out on the random encounter table," Emma eventually conceded, after a good half an hour of doing concentric circles around the family tent, getting nothing but curious glances from the staff for her trouble. "Can''t be lucky every time."
In practicable fashion, it was only when she arrived back where she began that the surprise presented itself.
"Please tell me I didn''t walk past that on the way out."
[Don''t worry, that''s new. Well, maybe worry about the parcel, but your spatial awareness is fine.]
The parcel in question was a masterclass of the mundane; a misshapen mass wrapped in packing paper and what looked like an entire tube of brown tape. It was the kind of parcel delivered by the dozen in a better age, containing anything from clothes to pharmaceuticals. Not long ago, Emma would have brought it inside and opened it up without a care in the world. One apocalypse later, she was a lot more suspicious of its contents; while she couldn''t entirely rule it out, Emma was reasonably certain that the likes of Royal Mail, UPS and FedEx were no longer in operation.
"Someone is messing with us," Emma concluded, taking on her true form as she spoke.
The Monitor Lizard popped into existence next to her, following her gaze onto the parcel in turn.
"Open that up, away from our tent please."
Emma got a confused look from her summon, but it didn''t hesitate to obey despite that, grabbing the parcel and heading off the beaten path in search of solitude.
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"That should be far enough."
The lack of activity played in their favour, as the Monitor Lizard found a small clearing some fifty feet away, nestled beneath a tall tree whose branches fell just low enough to make walking inconvenient, and thus discouraged people from approaching. Actually opening the parcel took a moment''s thought, given the lack of tools on hand, but her summon persisted, eventually resorting to cutting through sheets of tape with his claw. Eventually the packaging fell away, leaving a grey crystal ball in hand, the latter glowing faintly with ambient magic. The Monitor Lizard poked it with a claw, and the orb exploded. Solid glass turned to smoke, expanding to surround her summon before freezing in place, the resulting mass still spherical but substantially larger than before. Notably, everything within the expanded sphere froze in place, seemingly cut off from the outside world.
[Localised Time Stop initiated. Duration (1 week)]
"So that''s the game," Emma grumbled. "If we opened that up unprepared, that''s the rest of the festival gone. Any idea who wanted to prank us?"
[Hm. This one wasn''t aimed at you, for once. There are people who aren''t too fond of Noah, and would prefer to keep him at arms length from the magical world. They wouldn''t dare do anything permanently harmful, since that carries the risk of retaliation in kind, but a bit of mean-spirited hazing isn''t beyond them.]
"Wonderful."
[Null Zone (Toggle: ON)]
Bringing her anti-magic online, it only took Emma a few moments to get within range of her trapped summon; the moment Null Zone came into contact with stopped time, the entire bubble vanished in a loud hiss. That included the Monitor Lizard, which vanished immediately, though a quick glance at her status page assured Emma that it would be back after the usual cooldown.
[An unusual interaction with summoning magic. An ordinary person would have been released unharmed, albeit with a side dish of motion sickness.]
"How did Dad even manage to offend whoever did this? He''s barely left Oxford, besides the few times we''ve dragged him along to one thing or the other."
[In this case, his mere existence is enough to offend. He''s hardly unique in that either; I wouldn''t be surprised if similar ''gifts'' were going out to most of the first-time attendees. You''re high profile enough to have been left off of the list, after last night''s display, only to catch strays from Noah despite that. Ironic.]
"So that''s how it is," Emma nodded sagely as she headed back to the family tent. "Why does this remind me of the cliques back in school?"
[If you think this is bad, wait until you see the Parliament. Politics is one of those fields that never evolves beyond the kindergarten level, despite thousands of years of supposed refinement. It just goes to show that we all have a common ancestor if we go back far enough; the eponymous monkey flinging faeces, so to speak. Anyway, having dealt with this first attempt, you''re unlikely to see another, for today at least.]
"Do you think whoever did it will show up later this week? I''ve got a few candles they might enjoy."
[I''ll be sure to let you know if he makes an appearance.]
Satisfied with the promise of vengeance, Emma headed back inside, putting the matter on the back burner for the time being. Dinner was more important, anyway.
Chapter 228: Hells Kitchen
Chapter 228: Hell''s Kitchen
Dinner was already laid out on the table by the time Emma returned; a heaping bowl filled to the brim with hearty lamb curry. Noah was at the table, having laid out two servings; evidently, Elizabeth had communicated her absence ahead of time. The latter was expected, given the circumstances, whereas the former...
"How''d you manage that? I''ve seen you make curry before, it always took at least an hour to cook through."
Emma was expecting an answer along the lines of a new high-powered stove of some kind, possibly with a degree of magic involved. Even so, she wasn''t prepared for Noah to summon a thin black plume of flames, barely visible as it hovered above his outstretched hand.
[Balefire: All things have a boiling point, even causality.]
"Dad, why are you using Balefire to cook?"
Even just looking at it, Emma felt the urge to activate Null Zone to smother the flame; it felt dangerous in a way that defied description, something at the back of her brain urging her to run or lash out, whichever was quickest in the moment.
"I haven''t had much free time lately, whether to cook or to practice magic, so I figured, why not kill two birds with one stone? I burned more than a few steaks to begin with, but I''ve got it down to a science now, and it''s a lot faster than the gas cooker. My spells cost less mana too, which is a nice side benefit."
[Um.]
Emma couldn''t help feel that there were a few problematic parts in that, but she was unsure how to tackle it, and instead began to eat. Admittedly, it was a very nice curry; warm, fragrant and with enough spice to be punchy without drowning out the subtle flavours in a lake of fire. If Noah hadn''t mentioned it, she''d never have realised there was anything more to it than a deft hand and a good recipe. Before she knew it, her first bowl was empty, quickly followed by three more. Only after they were both full, and the leftovers packed away into Noah''s storage item, did Emma broach the more important matter at hand.
"Is there anyone who''d benefit by removing you from the festival?"
"In what context?" Noah frowned, cradling his chin in thought; it wasn''t an immediate denial, which was already somewhat worrying.
"I found a trapped parcel left outside the tent earlier. It held some sort of stasis spell, enough to trap someone in time for a week before running out of juice. My anti-magic stopped it easily, and Edith agrees it wasn''t aimed at me, so that means it''s either for you or Mom, and Mom has barely spent any time here since we arrived."
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"Ah. Well, that''s troubling. You''re sure it was specifically to make me miss the festival? Not an IED to take me out of the picture more permanently?"
[They wouldn''t dare. It''s one thing to temporarily lock someone away; in magical terms, that amounts to little more than a practical joke. A blatant lethal attack, on the other hand, would be a slap in the face to the festival organisers; it would imply that my peers couldn''t keep guests in their hospitality alive.]
"Right," Noah sighed. "In that case, I''ve got a fairly good idea what''s going on. You know I more or less stayed away from magical society for the most part?"
Emma nodded non-noncommittally; she''d seen enough by now to realise that her past was complicated, through instances of sealed memories and unfortunate magical interactions, but Noah''s statement held true for the most part. Her childhood, what she remembered of it at least, was mostly mundane.
"In light of recent events, I have been made aware of a lot of old family knowledge. To put it bluntly, there are certain inheritances that run in the family, some from a very long time ago, ones that have been stashed away for decades because nobody has claimed them. Weapons that last saw use during the London Blitz, as a more benign example. The annual gathering at the Solstice is one of the few opportunities during the year to claim them, as it''s a time for taking oaths, legal and magical alike."
"You said it yourself, they''ve sat in a vault for what, eighty years at least? If someone was interested, couldn''t they have gone behind your back to claim, them rather than getting you involved?"
"There was probably never a need," Noah shrugged. "Life has been peaceful until now, so any other claimants were happy to let sleeping dogs lie. Not so much any more, with over ninety percent of humanity dead, at a generous estimate."
"So, someone wants the goods, and probably has some level of claim to them. A weaker one than you, so if you were present to contest the issue, they would lose, which is why they tried to make you go away for a week. In an ideal outcome, by the time you were freed, their claim would already be a done deal."
[You know what they say; possession is nine-tenths of the law.]
"It still seems rather reckless," Emma decided after thinking it over. "Neither of us are without allies, some of them very powerful, even if we''re both new to the scene. What''s so valuable for them to risk the attempt?"
"You know how the Knight family first earned its name?"
"Through great deeds accomplished for King and Country during the height of the Crusades." Emma recited from memory, having spent many a night listening to what she now realised were sanitised versions of family history.
"Exactly. Now, the mundane aspect of that time is more or less as is commonly known. The magical aspects have largely faded into history by design, but at one point, our family was legendary in the manufacture of magical weaponry. Swords that can split the sky from here to the horizon, mirrors that show a target''s greatest weakness and are invisible to defensive wards, poison that can compel the drinker do whatever you want, to name but a few. I never saw a reason to lift the lid on any of this, but clearly, someone wants to force the issue."
Chapter 229: In Another World With Your Smartphone
Chapter 229: In Another World With Your Smartphone
"Legendary weapons from another age? Yeah, I could see that being enough to take such risks. Any idea who it might be?"
"Not a clue," Noah shrugged. "I''ve only ever met a handful of my extended family, and if it were that easy to learn who hates my guts, they wouldn''t have made it this far."
"Fair point," Emma grimaced. "So what''s the play here?"
"I''m not sure we have one. We know that someone is out to get me, but it''s really hard to prove a negative; even finding all the suspects would be difficult, let alone getting the right one. But at least, we now know they exist, so maybe next time they try something, we can catch them in the attempt?"
"Actually, hold on," Emma raised a hand, her attention diverted to her status page, one line of it in particular.
[Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.]
"I get a notification when someone bad is watching me, and nothing triggered when I dealt with the booby-trapped package. It''s not infallible, but chances are nobody was directly monitoring the drop-off, so they won''t know that I disabled the trap."
"So we pretend it worked," Noah caught on quickly. "I hide away from sight until the main event, and wait for whoever wants to press a claim against my inheritance to show themselves."
"It might not be the mastermind behind the plot, but at the very least it''ll be their minion, and we''ll be on to them. The only downside is that you can''t be seen on the festival grounds until the weekend, so if you had anything already scheduled..."
"Nothing important," Noah shook his head. "Although, if this does work as planned then I still need to be available to rebut any claims on my property. Can you smuggle me into the meeting from outside if it comes down to it?"
[Eternal Wind will take care of that.]
"Sounds like a plan," Emma grinned.
"Works for me. Although, if I''m basically housebound for the next few days, I might as well spend it at my actual home."
Before Emma could respond, Noah began to glow a bright blue, before vanishing in what she recognised as the Return ability. His departure verged on indecent haste, solidifying Emma''s impression that Noah had never been that enthused with the Solstice in the first place, and had taken the first opportunity to duck out.
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[He''s always been more focused on his work than anything social. It can be helpful, case in point, but I can''t help but feel that this entire situation is partly the result of such insular behaviour. Oh well, he can go keep Saint company I suppose.]
Uninterested in a deep dive of her Dad''s psychological profile, Emma decided to head back outside and do a few more patrols around the tent. A vigilant posture would help sell the idea that Noah had been caught in the time trap, and maybe something interesting might come of it as well.
---
In the end, the only thing of note that happened in the next few hours, was a single concerned servant pausing in his duties for long enough to ask if Emma was well. Clearly, her constant circles around the tent had made her look confused, a sentiment likely shared by many, even if only one dared to broach the subject.
[100 Thrones withdrawn.]
His concern, while misplaced was appreciated, something Emma made clear to him with a sizable tip before sending him on his way. That amusing interlude aside, night was falling, and it was time to select the evening festivities.
[I Am My Scars: Take turns carving each other up with ceremonial fencing swords. No blocking or dodging allowed, last man standing wins. Healthcare not included.
Invitation accepted.]
Having found nothing else to distract her, Emma eventually accepted the best of three options. As soon as she chose yes, her mini-map popped up, a bright red arrow leading towards the venue.
"That wasn''t a thing last night," Emma noted, having relied upon Edith to get to the Fight Club.
[There were a few complaints of people getting lost and missing the entry cut-off, not just for your event but in general. The event organisers have taken this into account and adapted accordingly.]
"Well, I''m not going to complain. Actually, I''m curious now; what do these invitations even look like for people without the System?"
[The method varies from person to person. Magical parchment is a popular choice for traditionalists, whilst mirrors also have considerable favour among certain circles. There were even a minority of progressives who mimicked the System with apps, though that method has suffered a very recent decline, as their smartphones generally weren''t spared by the Terminus. All of them are sufficiently versatile to incorporate basic functionality like text, images and maps, among others.]
"Mimicked the System, huh. And here I thought Apple did it first."
[Well, that''s a tricky question to answer. I created the System by borrowing ideas from the future through precognition. These then went on to inspire different interfaces in the past, eventually reproducing them in the future for me to borrow. The best time loop is a closed one, in the end.]
"Right," Emma shook her head. "Does time travel ever stop causing headaches to think about?"
[Only if you''re doing it wrong.]
On that inspiring note, Emma arrived at the night''s venue. It was still a tent like any other, but this time a welcome mat had been put out, displaying two swords clashing. It wasn''t actually part of the tent itself, which she figured was a loophole to get around the heraldry rules, and was yet another improvement for hapless visitors trying to find their way around. Emma decided that was a sign to look the part, switching to her armoured form as she stepped through the threshold, and immediately bumping into a familiar face inside.
[Princess Astaroth - Level 25 Warlock of the Deep.]
Chapter 230: Old Mans War
Chapter 230: Old Man''s War
[Princess Astaroth - Level 25 Warlock of the Deep.]
She''d gone up a few levels since their last meeting, and replaced her black robes with a black bodysuit; far more mobile and better suited for fencing. No blade was visible, but in an era of storage items this meant little; Emma had seen her in action enough to know she was dangerous, unarmed or otherwise.
"You made it!" Emma couldn''t help exclaiming.
"I promised to attend, did I not?"
"Yes, but after how our last meeting ended, I couldn''t help but wonder. We lost days to time dilation, and there was no telling where or even when you ended up when the dungeon was cleared."
"I won''t lie and say the journey was easy," Princess Astaroth laughed. "That went out the window the moment every plane worldwide went down in flames. I took the long away around, but somehow, despite everything and everyone conspiring to delay me, I made it before the cut-off; just in time to relieve my frustrations with a bit of harmless stabbing."
"I don''t know about harmless..." Emma began, before trailing of as she got a proper look at the other participants who''d arrived.
The hall was a decent size, and there were already a few dozen men and women who had arrived before her. Compared to the fight club just a single night before, the atmosphere couldn''t be any more different, and not just because everyone started at the same spot. Rather than a Norse aesthetic, the furnishings were notably bland, with walls and ceiling pure white and devoid of decoration. Simple wooden tables dotted the hall, laden with an impressive selection of alcohol and not a single nibble of food in sight; which made sense, looking at the clientele.
The first night had been a gathering of youth, many of them ill prepared for battle, ranging from merely inexperienced to outright incapable. Tonight''s audience trended older; not to the point of grey beards and arthritis, but with a definite lean towards maturity. Scanning the room, Emma found only a handful of people who could pass for teenagers; the rest looked like university graduates, fresh out of academia and ready for the workforce. There were even a few elders among them who looked anywhere from their late twenties to passing for her dad''s colleagues in the security service, well into middle age and near what the uncharitable might call old behind their backs.
Their actions weren''t necessarily any different from the viking-themed after-party, as small groups of friends huddled together, discussing the upcoming event in low whispers or sizing up their opponents like Emma was doing, but there was a definite atmosphere of caution and experience that was previously absent. More notably, none of their profiles were displaying to the System, indicating a level of preparation against her presence that had been wholly absent up until now.
[The first night is traditionally one for the youngsters. The events are the simplest, with low barriers for entry and prizes well-suited to newcomers with limited resources. Many of the more experienced Practitioners skip it altogether. Each subsequent day gets harder, so typically those who struggled on the first night''s events will give up and spend the rest of the week pursuing other forms of entertainment.]
"Which means everyone here today is either strong enough to be confident in their chances, or have done this before to be sure they belong," Princess Astaroth conccurred.
[Ironically, this means that the young attract the most attention, because any willing to show up tend to be the cream of the crop, true prodigies, whereas the older participants can run the gamut and trend towards the average of their age bracket. They''ll still be significantly better than the average last night, with deep pockets to pull tricks from. System concealment is a common one; expensive, but worth the cost once they confirmed your attendance.]
"I''m not getting that much attention," Emma protested, right before she felt a cold chill run down her non-existent back.
[Rorschach''s Blot activated! Punishing the aggressor.]
"Never mind."
Emma continued scanning her surroundings, because whilst there was a chance this was coincidental, the most likely culprits were all in the same room as her. It wasn''t a proper competition sport until the first cheating scandal, as the old saying goes.
"Lord of darkness, share your insight! Grant me eyes! Grant me eyes!"
A commotion broke out in the far corner, as a reedy little man in a pinstripe suit dropped his beer and began to claw at his face. A good Samaritan nearby tried to calm him down with words and a firm grip, only to take an elbow to the face for his trouble. The next man to try was considerably less restrained; he still used words, this time of binding, silence and slumber. Wrapped in ethereal blue chains, while a warbling choir of skeletons sang him an illusory lullaby, the rabid man finally stopped struggling at the two minute mark.
"That was a strong response," Emma remarked, relaxing as the sense of observation faded the moment the man fell unconscious. "What did he want from me, to get that kind of treatment?"
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[That was Alexander Jones, Warlock, Auctioneer and Tomb Robber, not necessarily in that order. He was under the impression that you were an animated suit of armour belonging to another, and was surveying you with an eye towards acquisition under the cover of tonight''s event. He no longer believes this, nor will he be capable of forming beliefs for the next few hours at minimum.]
"Ew," Emma grimaced, glaring at the unconscious man being dragged away by a pair of burly manservants. "I know it''s not human trafficking, but that doesn''t make it much better. For one, he looked to be at least three times my age."
[Mr. Jones has a reputation for ''liberating'' the belongings of his fellow Practitioners. Whilst none of those tending to him are privvy to exact details, they''ll be aware that he tried to do something unsavoury. You won''t see him for the rest of the festival.]
"Good riddance."
---
Status Page below:
Emma Knight
- Public Title: Practitioner
- Commendation: Order of the Empire, First Class
True Form: Level 17 Damned Apostle
Abilities
- Summon Unholy Sword {Epitaph}
- Toxovolia: Epitaph can transform into a Bow, firing arrows of ambient anima.
- No Pal of Mine: Capture the souls of the worthy, gaining a simulacrum of equal level to the User. Maximum 1 active per 10 levels, rounding up. 10 minute cooldown when defeated. Captured: The Leech King, Sir Bearington, Earthbound Immortal, Antipode, Duplicate, Monitor Lizard
- Flying Sword: Epitaph can change size, and fly up to 60 miles per hour.
- Oversoul: Instantly possess the body of a living target.
- Parallel Lives (Cooldown: 1 minute): Swap places with your active Summon.
- Angel of Extinction (Cooldown: 12 hours): Summon an Angel within line of sight. The Angel is invulnerable and departs after 12 seconds, killing anyone who saw it.
- Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.
Traits
- Wolf, Ram and Heart (Toggle: OFF): Attacks are imbued with Death magic, significantly increasing damage and carrying a [Level]% chance of inflicting Instant Death.
- Ephemera (Toggle: OFF): Become intangible.
- Null Zone (Toggle: OFF): All incoming magic fails.
- One with Everything (Cooldown: 10 minutes): If Anima would be reduced to 0, stop at 1.
- Babble Fish: You are fluent in every language.
- Rorschach''s Blot: Attempts to observe you remotely produce nonsensical images to those bearing ill-intent. You will be alerted when observation commences.
- Home Is Where the Hearth Is - EXP gains doubled for 1 hour after eating a home-cooked meal.
Half-Demon Homunculus: Level 10 Chandler Stored in Eden¡¯s Echo when not in use.
Appearance
- Red hair, green eyes, plain complexion.
Clothes
Traits
- I¡¯m a Candle: A modern understanding of non-magical candles.
- Everlasting: Your candles will last forever, barring external interference.
- Noncombustible: High resistance to heat and fire from all sources.
- Blood of the Enemy: Blood taken from those you slay may substitute for one reagent when making Candles. Candles made using this trait are Demonic.
- Breath Control: You can hold your breath for (Level)*2 minutes without losing focus.
Candle Attributes
- Black: Consumes nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.
- Hallowed: Repels beings of evil alignment or intent.
- Soothing: Emits a potent soporific that can put an elephant to sleep.
- Chaos: Emits a different negative effect each time it¡¯s lit.
- Pathfinder: Creates a link between two candles. When both are lit, a portal is formed.
- Guardian: While lit, you are invulnerable within your own home.
- Toxic: This candle¡¯s fumes are deadly.
Inventory - Eden''s Echo A ring containing fifty cubic metres of storage space, capable of instant transfer. Living beings are held in stasis and slowly heal. All sapient creatures are less likely to attack the wearer. This item is invisible except to the wearer, who cannot wear other jewellery. Currently contains:
- Eternal Wind: No matter near or far, all are one. Light a candle with yourself for two ships in the night, build a bridge where none still stand.
- A Practical Guide to Entropy
- Crystal Emporium Voucher (50% off)
Quests
It¡¯s the Green You Need
- Bonus Objective: Form a summoning contract with the Hydra once it has enough heads.
Who Wants To Live Forever?
- Objective: Pay your respects at the Grave of Sectmaster Horizon.
- Objective: Discover who manipulated his Son to turn against the Empire.
Chapter 231: Ready Set Go!
Chapter 231: Ready Set Go!
After that bout of excitement, nobody else tried to make a move on Emma, leaving her to her own devices as competitors continued to arrive. Emma was in no hurry for conversation either, instead choosing to park herself at the small table in the corner, where the non-alcoholic drinks languished, largely ignored by the guests. She had no issue with alcohol, except for the fact that it didn''t go well with swinging a sword around, and was best saved for after the competition, not beforehand. Most of her fellow youngsters disagreed, pouring fine wine by the bottle and attempting to engage their seniors in conversation; it reminded Emma of kids in the playground, trying to appear ''more adult''. Princess Astaroth was one of the few exceptions, flitting from table to table to talk, never to drink; the room was too noisy to hear any specifics, but from how frequently she was moving around, Emma could only gues she was asking for something or someone in particular.
On the other hand, the behaviour of the older guests was very much a mixed bag; most chose the wine, albeit at a more sedate pace than their juniors. A few grabbed soft drinks from the nearby table, studiously ignoring Emma''s presence before swiftly departing back to their circle of friends, while others declined to drink a single drop. One particularly paranoid individual, wrapped head to toe in bandages like a mummy, drank only from a thermos pulled from his sleeve; never more than a small sip at a time, and only after a muttered incantation every time without fail.
[That particular specimen goes by the name of Harvey the Homewrecker. The most prolific philanderer in the Empire, notable only for how long he''s managed to stay alive despite leaving a tide of infidelity and scandal in his wake. He attends public events because most of the private ones have banned him, and has been poisoned enough times that he never consumes anything he hasn''t made from scratch.]
What''s someone like that doing at a fencing event? Emma wondered. He''s not going to score here, unless I''ve wildly misunderstood the nature of tonight''s entertainment.
[Probably hoping to impress someone else in the crowd. While his character is unfortunate, he does have a keen eye for detail, and great skill in not getting hit; he''s probably in the top third of competitors for the night.]
Before Emma could dig any further into his background, a round of applause drew her attention to the middle of the room. The new arrival was an elderly man wearing long, flowing grey robes, boasting a beard that nearly touched the floor and a gnarled wood staff straight out of the works of Tolkien. He would''ve been the very image of a classical wizard, if not for the bulging muscles that dominated his frame, enough to put most contestants on Mr. Universe to shame. The overall effect was incredibly jarring, though probably unimportant; more notably, he was the first to be fully visible besides Princess Astaroth, having taken no precautions against the System.
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[Master Europe, Strongest in the West - Level 57 War Mage]
"Good evening, warriors!"
His voice was Emma''s expectations; loud and booming, effortlessly cutting through the remaining chatter and bringing the room to a halt, as even those who failed to notice his arrival or the cheering turned their heads his way.
"Welcome to the 507th Annual Academic Fencing Tournament. It''s five minutes after midnight, and you know what that means; the event has become, and shall consist solely of those gathered in this room. The remaining invitations have expired, and with them the ability to join this trial of the virtuous; punctuality is, after all, a virtue in and of itself."
At his words, the front door faded from sight, leaving only a barren stretch of wall behind.
"I am Master Europe, three-time champion of the Royal Rumble, and your adjudicator for tonight! In all matters of competition within these four walls, my word is final; if you don''t like it, then go complain to the organisers after we''re done, I''m sure they''ll love the paperwork. Ahem."
This is our judge? Emma stared incredulously, a sentiment shared by many of her peers, judging by their faces.
[Anyone who achieves the rank of Master is, generally speaking, a veteran of decades of magical study. All of the weirdness you''ve encountered so far, multiplied ten or even a hundred fold. Inevitable, creeping isolation as peers drift away to pursue their own interests, fall in battle or simply succumb to the passing of years. An increasing inability to relate to ordinary people, thanks to the sheer gulf of power and experience. Really, it''s a wonder that the average Master is as sane as well-adjusted as this; how does that old saying go again? We''re all mad here.]
"Moving on, as far as numbers are concerned, we''ve got seventy eight competitors here tonight," Master Europe squinted, oblivious to the System''s commentary. "A bit awkward, so here''s what we''ll do. There are seventy eight people in this room right now. When that number falls to sixty four, we''ll start the tournament, running for six rounds consecutively. Got it? Ready set go!"
The musclebound mage snapped his fingers, and the tables filled with refreshments disappeared. Nothing else changed, except for the dawning realisation of everyone involved that a surprise preliminary round just started, one without much in the way of rules at all. Emma, for her part, didn''t fancy showing her cards this early on, so she kept on the periphery. She did summon Epitaph, because having a sword at a fencing event didn''t exactly give much away, but otherwise she held her position, waiting to see if anyone would dare to approach. Everyone was tense now, too many bodies in a confined space, all of them competitive people with their eyes on the prize; it could only ever go one way.
"You rat bast-urk!"
A man slipped a dagger into the ribs of a ''friend'' he''d been chatting with just moments ago, and the tension broke.