Sworded Affair

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

HP: 100

MP: 100

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.

“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.”