Sworded Affair

Felix reappeared in Oxford, more than a little confused. One moment, he was getting ready for the pivotal clash against Emma, and the next, he was staring at the front door of a house that he'd surveilled on multiple occasions, but had never actually visited. It was enough to make him suspicious, and run a few skills that technically shouldn't have been possible while outside of his dungeon.

[Dispel Illusion

True Sight

Anti-Magic Shell

Status Clear]

Four magus level spells, activated in rapid succession, each burning away what little remained of his possessed victim's soul. It had already been fraying at the seams thanks to the rough handling, even before stepping into the arena against Emma, but the rapid casting that followed was enough to tip it over the edge.

[Ernest Foyer has died!

Your mana reserves can sustain his body for 10 minutes before being forced to return to the Academia Mortalis.]

No great loss, as far as Felix was concerned, just a little pissant of a noble who barged into his dungeon and demanded a management role outright. He was strong enough to pass the standard trials, admittedly, but had annoyed Felix enough to arrange for his execution via the Avatar of Mars, before storing his soul for future use. That soul was now dissipating, returning to the river of space and time, memories wiped clean as it awaited reincarnation. That was all well and good, but what concerned Felix was that he was still in Oxford, and therefore this was real, not some illusion Emma had put him under.

"View System Log," Felix ordered, invoking a rarely used feature of his dungeon master interface.

It wasn't something viable to keep active on the battlefield, because it was far too detailed, and fighting was hard when his entire field of view was taken up by endlessly scrolling lines of debug data. Now though, there wasn't the immediate pressure to contend with, which meant Felix had the time to sift through the garbage, and find the answer he was looking for.

[Return (Cooldown: 24 Hours): Teleport Home. Cooldown resets when Home is in danger.]

"God damn it," Felix facepalmed, finally putting the pieces together. "The oldest trick in the book, and I fell for it."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

That might have been a bit of an exaggeration, as the humble Fireball predated Return, among other abilities, but it was still one of the oldest abilities in the System, added in the very first iteration. Its predecessor was similarly ancient, dating back to an era where teleportation was only possible to the most mana-rich environment, while mortal travel had scarcely progressed beyond the horse and saddle. Magi at the time built their homes in such locations, using the abundant ambient mana to offload the strain of their own casting and research, and it wasn't long before one of them figured out how to bind a trace of themselves to their home, allowing for a rapid return in times of trouble, and so, Return was born.

That said, Felix wasn't too mad about the overall situation, as he'd only shown up for a bit of fun, and had no real stake in winning the competition, being somewhat removed from faction politics in his new role.

"Since I'm already here, might as well make myself at home," Felix decided, heading to the door and pressing gently against it.

This was his first time attending, but the wards protecting the home had been a family special, and easily discerning enough to recognise his common lineage, even absent the original body by blood. The door swung open, revealing the foyer, and a very unusual sight down in the living room.

[Saint - Level 17 Druid of War]

He'd already met the cat, back when it conned its way into the Academia's trials before making off with an unusual prize, so Saint's presence in itself was hardly shocking. Finding Saint sprawled atop a mountain of pizza boxes, stretching nearly two thirds of the way to the rooftop? Now that was just bizarre.

"Where did you even find a pizza shop still doing delivery?" Felix felt compelled to ask, baffled. "Even I can't get that, all the food in the Academia canteen is either System generated or made by the residents with Chef classes."

The mountain of pizza boxes shifted, and the little Hydra clambered out from the bottom, one of his heads eating a slice nearly bigger than itself.

"Believe it or not, he arranged it," Saint laughed, pointing a tail at the Hydra. "Turns out, having divine lineage can open some doors across the Atlantic, and there are Warlocks willing to play delivery driver if it means a chance at a contract with a genuine child of Echidna."

That made a disturbing amount of sense, Felix reflected, having seen firsthand what people were willing to do for even a scrap of power, particularly in the midst of an apocalypse.

"Well, that's probably more fun than the Solstice," he decided after a moment's thought. "Got any more pizzas? I figure I can finish at least two before I need to head back."

"Help yourself," Saint offered magnanimously, waving a paw in the general direction of the kitchen. "There's plenty more on the countertop, grab whatever you want."

It wasn't how Felix had envisioned the day ending, but it was hard to complain about pizza, a staple food that transcended boundaries, and the kitchen was indeed as well stocked as promised. He ended up going for the classic margherita, being a fan of the basics, skipping past the meat feast as well as the strange cheesy soup that filled a vaguely round pan, which he supposed qualified as pizza if looked at through a hefty dose of hallucinogens.

"You got the house all to yourself?" Felix questioned, upon returning to the living room and taking a free couch next to the leaning tower of pizza boxes.

"More or less," Saint shrugged. "Noah's war buddies sometimes come over to ask questions, but most of them are pretty easy, and the rest can wait."

Governance looked rather strange these days, Felix mused, as he dug into his meal.