Sworded Affair

"This is a bit of a departure from the Roman aesthetic," Emma noted, giving the mead a try as she watched individuals and small groups begin to teleport into the hall.

It was a bit spicier than she was used to, but overall similar enough to the mulled wine she had every Christmas, that it remained just about palatable.

[Felix wanted to keep on theme to begin with, and succeeded for the most part, but negative connotations kept coming up during alpha and beta testing in the area of food service.]

"Such as?"

[The common idea that Roman socialites would eat until bursting, head to a designated Vomitorium to, ahem, reset the cycle, then heading right back to the main table for seconds.] Your journey continues with empire

"Was that actually true?"

[Not in the slightest, but belief in the old myth was sufficiently widespread that Felix gave up on trying to correct. If you're explaining, you're losing, as the old saying goes; he deemed it a better idea to avoid the association entirely. The Hunger Games did not help here, though it was hardly the first work of fiction to portray the practice, just the most popular in recent memory.]

"Understandable," Emma admitted, drinking far more slowly for her second sip. "My appetite is already gone, just from thinking about it in the abstract."

[There are worse choices; it still stays firmly in the age of myth. Battling to the death before resurrecting to feast, there are worse ways to spend an afterlife.]

Felix appeared next to me, indicating a probable end to the new arrivals, as Emma couldn't see him not having the last word, not when he was the host of the night's festivities. That was enough to get her to start examining the attendees in earnest; her first impression? There were far fewer of them than the ninety six competitors in the arena.

[Nobody likes showing up to class the day after failing an exam. The simple nature of a battle royale dictates that over half of those involved died without a single kill to their name. Others fell in humiliating fashion, and have no desire to revisit the circumstances irrespective of any achievements they accrued before then; it's like that old joke, if you build a thousand bridges and kill one child, guess which achievement makes the newspapers? Add on the people who were never going to reveal their identities irrespective of the results, whether due to political necessity, an issue with their appearance or simple disdain for the limelight, and the final tally of attendees becomes what you see before you today.]

"Alright, now that everybody is here, I suppose a few words are in order," Felix declared, clapping his hands for attention.

The movement was hardly necessary, given how all present had turned to him the moment he arrived, but Felix was and would always be a fan of dramatics.

"First of all, thank you for coming! This part of the festivities wasn't mandatory, outside of a chosen few, so it's great to have you here with me today. As a token of my appreciation, a surge of purest mana, straight from the leyline."

A second clap of his hands, and everyone glowed momentarily.

[250 XP gained (Dungeon Master's discretion)]

Emma wasn't sure what everyone else got out of it, seeing as she was the only System user present, but it couldn't be too bad, judging by the approving murmurs of the crowd.

"Hopefully that will encourage future participation, especially in the official programme to be announced on Saturday."

[The first hit is free.]

Emma nearly laughed aloud at that, though she managed to refrain, knowing that Felix wouldn't appreciate the interruption at such a juncture.

"Next up, since most of us here are new, I believe a round of introductions are in order. I am Felix Knight, your host and dungeon master for the night. Next to me is my big sister Emma, the champion of tonight's inaugural battle royale."

Emma waved listlessly at the crowd, happy to be done with the most awkward part of any introduction: her own.

"Next up, another brother-sister duo, and the two cunning smugglers who brought spells imbued into their souls, a round of applause for Andrew and Andreas Murphy."

The two contenders from the final round looked much the same as they had in the arena, which is to say that none of their features could stick to Emma's mind, though their clothes were more evident, with the standardised gym uniforms replaced by formal suits and ties. The only distinguishing point was their hair, the former kept high and tight, while the latter had shoulder length tresses flowing freely around and behind.

I know I'm not that bad with faces, what's going on here? Emma complained in her mind.

[The Murphy family specialise in stealth and infiltration, encapsulated in their family magic, The Everyman. It lets them adjust their features while also projecting an aura of belonging, letting them slip seamlessly into crowds and slip beneath notice. Even their current appearance is a courtesy to the guests, distinctive enough to identify them as strange; if they were on the job, they'd be sticking to a single unremarkable appearance for each of them.]

If I activate Null Zone near them, would I get to see their real faces?

[Yes. You'd also make enemies for life and start a blood feud with the entire family.]

Never mind, their faces can't be worth that much trouble.

"As mentioned earlier, they both have to pay a penalty for bringing in contraband, though I won't be too harsh, seeing as they only used them in response to prior treachery. If you work security for free at my next three events, helping to catch people trying to do what you did, I'll call it even."

"We thank you for your benevolence," both of them spoke and bowed simultaneously, adding to the general sense of uncanny valley.

"Next up, a young martial artist on exchange from the Far East, Tian Mao, and his entourage."

Emma studied him closely; he was the one who came closest to defeating her at the end; even without that being specified, the spear on his back and the scar across his neck both gave the game away. The rest of him was less notable; a fit but angular body that prioritised agility over sheer muscle, fine silk robes and glowing golden eyes; not exactly normal, but far from the strangest Emma had seen, even before the apocalypse.

[Well fought.]

The translation from combat sign was seamless this time, now that Babel Fish was back online, no longer requiring Edith's direct intervention. She didn't bother paying attention to his entourage, as they were standing well behind him, heads bowed and out of the way. None of them had the aura of strength of the notable competitors, making Emma believe they showed up only out of obligation to their leader.

"These four, alongside the now indentured Johan Weber, were the five finalists of the match and therefore worthy of my personal introduction. The rest of you can do as you please, I'm not eulogising your deaths unless you git good."

On that unflattering note, Felix vanished from the room, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.