Sworded Affair

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.]

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?