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Sworded Affair
Chapter 137: Foul Legacy

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.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“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?”

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]