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.]