《Demonic Conqueror [LitRPG, Isekai, Progression]》


 Chapter 1

    I should be doing more than this.


    The thought came to him for the tenth time that morning.


    Simon put it out of his mind as best he could. Breathing deep of acrid city air, he joined the throngs of people ambling down the sidewalk.


    He took his time aimlessly wandering without any particular destination in mind. The city''s hustle and bustle mercifully drowned out his worries, stifling the growing sense of disquiet that had become his constant companion in life.


    Eventually, though, the urge to accomplish something reared its ever-insistent head again.


    Simon grabbed a snack from a roadside vendor, contemplating where to go next. His dorm room was an option...


    But he also hadn''t visited Grace''s soup kitchen in a few days. The errant thought provoked an uncomfortable itch between his shoulder blades.


    Before he knew it, he was navigating familiar streets to a familiar destination.


    His mood lifted when he entered through the soup kitchen''s front door and was immediately greeted by a cheery smile. Grace ¨C a stout, middle-aged woman ¨C was in the middle of organizing various foodstuffs when she noticed him. "Simon!" she said. "Always good to see your face ''round here."


    Simon''s lips curled up into his own small smile. The fact that Grace meant it was one of the reasons he kept returning. He didn''t get this kind of reception anywhere else. "Same to you. There any new work for me?"


    She jabbed a finger towards a heap of supplies haphazardly stacked in the corner. "Fresh crop came in. You know the drill."


    Snapping off a mock salute, Simon went over to the pile, then began sorting and packaging the assorted provisions into boxed sets of food. Each set he created contained a specific distribution of calories and nutrients. That way, everyone who visited the kitchen would get exactly what their body needed.


    Good, honest, tangible work. He could already feel his blood pressure lowering. Simon fell into a sort of zen state as he sorted, hours passing by an instant.


    It was late afternoon when they decided to finally take a break. "How''s your retail job going?" Grace asked, passing him an unopened can of soda. "The one at the supermarket? You came early today."


    "Oh, it''s going great," Simon beamed. "I got fired."


    She paused. "Oh. Why?"


    "Drove a customer to tears for the third time. Manager agreed that they had it coming, but I still broke the store''s Three Strikes clause, so he had no choice but to let me go."


    Grace chuckled, her smile lighting up the room once more. "Congratulations, I guess? Would usually offer condolences, but you seem happy."


    "It was retail."


    And in truth, he didn''t need the money. Simon had taken the job as a sort of...training exercise. Retail attracts all types of customer, and he wanted to see if he could get better at empathizing with people he disliked, learn to help them without lashing out.


    Clearly, it was still a work-in-progress.


    "Mmhmm." Grace''s smile shifted into a wry grin. "I suppose it''s fine. You''re young, and that was just a temp job. Once college classes start back up, you''ll have to focus on your studies ¨C and after that, every company in the area will be looking to snap you up."


    The woman eyed him curiously. "What field are you looking to go into, Simon? What''s your dream?"


    She had no idea how much of a loaded question she''d just asked.


    Simon stalled for time by downing a gulp of soda, considered multiple possible answers...then opted for the truth. It would probably shock her, but he''d inspired plenty of baffled expressions over the years ¨C this one wasn''t going to be anything he hadn''t seen before.


    "I want to do whatever will make me obscenely rich," he said.


    Grace nodded, displaying not a hint of judgement. "Don''t blame you. In this economy¨C"


    "So that I can bribe politicians."


    "...Beg pardon?"


    Simon placed his can on the ground. "It''s the conclusion I''ve reached after an extensive analysis of the societal framework we live in. First, I started with one question: how do I improve things? How do I make the world a better place? And I don''t mean just helping little old ladies across the street; I''m talking about systemic, wide-sweeping change."


    He raised one finger. "The most obvious solution would be to take the reins myself. Become a politician and hold the highest possible office I can. Unfortunately, I doubt that''s in the cards. Don''t have the charisma or funds for a campaign. Might get some disenfranchised people to vote for me, but I''d be the niche pick that results in little more than a tiny footnote on wikipedia."


    Which today had just proved. If he couldn''t keep himself from lashing out at retail customers, then he wouldn''t last five minutes when coming face-to-face with actual politicians. The news media would eat him alive for voicing what he honestly thought about them.


    "So I considered other options for improving the world." Simon held up two more fingers. "Cure a major disease, or devise a major technological invention. However, after taking some courses in college, I''ve come to the conclusion that I''m not the kind of prodigy capable of revolutionizing a field. Like...if I became a doctor or a scientist, I would be good at it ¨C but not incredible. ''Incredible'' is what''s needed to change history."


    That, and the backing of big corporations. A groundbreaking invention wouldn''t go anywhere without funding and production lines.


    It always came down to power you held.


    "At that point, I circled back around to the politician angle. If I can''t become a politician, then maybe I can influence them instead? You''d be shocked at how little money it takes to buy someone''s vote. Comparatively speaking. I''d still need to be rich, but¨C"


    Grace held up a hand. She seemed dizzy, like she was trapped in a malfunctioning amusement park. "Just...slow down. Isn''t governmental bribery illegal?"


    Simon''s face remained impassive. "Bribery is illegal. Lobbying is a-okay."


    He neglected to mention that he would''ve also been a-okay with threatening politicians into compliance, if only he had the armies or blackmail necessary to make them listen. That idea had rarely gotten a good response when he mentioned it to others in the past.


    "Huh." Grace laced her fingers together. "Alright then. Do you really need to go that far with¨C"


    "Yes."


    "Oh." She seemed momentarily taken aback before rallying herself. "Well, how do you plan to ¨C what was it ¨C get obscenely rich? Your plan hinges on it."


    "Still working on that part," Simon said, with a barely-suppressed wince. "While I have some startup capital from the...the payouts, it won''t be easy. Investing in high-risk stocks is essentially gambling. Could run a business, but those usually fail, and then I''m back to square one."


    The woman stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. "You''ve truly put a lot of thought into this, haven''t you?"


    He let out a mirthless laugh. "Yeah. If you''ve got any better ideas, I''m all ears."


    Grace breathed out, drumming fingers on her thigh. "I mean...can''t believe I''m saying this, but...if you want to make money, this isn''t really the place to be."


    Simon briefly clenched his fist. "I know. Have to do something to help people, though. Can''t just be twiddling thumbs until my fortunes improve."


    She paused, realization sparking in her widening eyes. "Simon, if this is because you''re feeling guilty, I hope you know that what happened before isn''t your faul¨C"


    "Would rather not talk about that right now."


    Should never have told her to begin with. He blamed Grace''s team-mom exterior that prompted people to reveal their innermost secrets with nothing more than genuine caring and warmth.


    The conversation died after that. Simon returned to his packaging and sorting, ignoring the worried looks that Grace was sending his way.


    Those were much easier to deal with than the worries festering inside his heart. Invest in stocks? Start a business? Long shots, all of them. Realistically, he knew that his chances of achieving the success he needed to fulfill his ambitions were slim. If he didn''t get lucky at some point and win the proverbial lottery, his capacity to change the world would remain minimal.


    Deep down, he had already resigned himself to the strong possibility that his life''s efforts might end up making no difference at all.


    The thought felt like death.


    HELLO.


    Suddenly, an overpowering voice rang out within Simon''s mind.


    He and Grace cried out, nearly falling off their chairs. More than his own pain, it was Grace''s visible distress that snapped him back to awareness. Simon rushed over to assist her, smothering the alarm he felt at her gritted teeth and trembling hands.


    BE NOT AFRAID.


    From outside the soup kitchen, he heard crowds of people start to scream in terror.


    WAIT. Cease panicking. I said ''Be Not Afraid''. I was informed this would work.


    The voice was slightly quieter this time, although still egregiously loud. At first Simon thought it sounded vaguely masculine, before realizing the voice was his. Like some external force was hijacking his inner narration and using it to communicate with him.


    Marvelous. That''s better, yes? Please...please calm down, and everything will be explained.


    "Do the people outside have to scream so loud?" Grace asked, her breaths normalizing as she massaged her aching forehead. "They sound positively petrified ¨C even aside from the voice, I mean. Is something happening out there? Are they okay?"


    "Only you would think of other people at a time like this," Simon teased. He wobbled to his feet, hiding his discomfort. "Stay here. I''ll go check what''s happening. Don''t want you in the line of fire in case of...just in case."


    He bolted outside before she could respond, trusting Grace''s condition to keep her from doing anything rash.


    That was his job.


    The streets were choked full of people doing their very best not to spiral into a riot. Thousands of wide-open eyes had been turned skyward. Simon followed their gazes, raising his head to look up at the¨C


    He stopped cold. Simon blinked, waited, then blinked again. The sight was still there.


    After ruling out a communal brain hemorrhage...he was forced to accept that this was reality.


    The clouds had parted to reveal a gigantic thing floating above. Rays of gold illuminated a constantly shifting, non-Euclidean form that hurt Simon''s head the more he tried to understand it. The creature''s mass seemed to stretch across the entire city, casting a shadow as if it was a localized solar eclipse.


    37% of you have calmed. I deem those numbers adequate. The thing''s ''body'' pulsed with every word it inserted into Simon''s mind. It loudly cleared its throat ¨C somehow ¨C and adopted a self-serious tone. People of the sphere colloquially designated as Earth: I come to you with a plea. The fate of worlds hangs in the balance.


    "Maaaan," a person close to Simon whispered. "Shouldn''t have eaten those brownies."


    A great war is being waged as we speak. Cosmic forces beyond your comprehension are locked in conflict, and the winner shall decide whether Good prevails or Evil reigns supreme.


    The Thing paused. One moment. Hugo Blanchet of France has a question.


    Underneath the Thing''s mass, a boy''s face appeared within a sort of a mid-air projector screen. Simon had no idea who it was ¨C he looked like any random young kid off the street.


    "Is that me?" Hugo asked, his voice booming as if he was talking into a microphone. Simon was pretty sure the boy was speaking French, but he heard it as English. "Oh jeez that''s me. Wow. I, I have a question! What should we call you, Mr...uh...Mr. Voice-In-The-Sky?"


    Voice-In-The-Sky is permissible.


    With a static-y blip, the projection closed, and Hugo''s face disappeared. Now that greetings have been made ¨C I must warn you of what draws near. A war is being waged across realities, and with each world that succumbs to Evil, their power grows. It is only with the assistance of mortals such as yourselves that total annihilation can be averted.


    Voice-In-The-Sky''s light intensified. And so I ask this of you today: one brave soul from Earth must dedicate their life to saving a world that is not their own.


    Simon froze. He felt a sensation build up within him. One that took him several seconds to recognize.


    Longing.


    A longing so fierce that it gripped his chest with fingers of steel.


    The champion of the world known as Valtia has fallen. Whoever is chosen today shall assume their mantle and continue the fight in their stead. Without its champion''s strength, all life on Valtia shall vanish within the span of one year.


    Everyone spoke up at once. The streets erupted with energy, billions of people across the globe vying for attention.


    Simon was among them. He yelled until his throat was hoarse, desperately willing the Voice to hear him.


    Another face appeared beneath it, presented in the supernatural projection window. This time, it was a woman who seemed to be in her late 40s. Paula Ramirez of Spain wishes to speak.


    She nodded, her gaze as sharp as a knife. "Assuming I''m not dreaming...what''s the catch?"


    Catch?


    "The catch. The fine print. The part of the deal where someone gets screwed." Her eyes narrowed. "For example; how is just one person from our planet supposed to save an entire world?"


    Valtia''s new champion shall be granted the fallen champion''s powers upon transmigration, along with other boons. Your capacity for growth will be unmatched, and your power will swell when performing deeds of heroism and valor.


    Power, Simon marveled, the word crackling in his thoughts like a lightning bolt. I''ll be granted power. Just like that.


    The power to make CHANGE.


    Before the Voice''s projection could close, Paula interjected again. "If you''re capable of doing that, then why not empower a citizen of Valtia? Or just save the place yourself?"


    You ask many questions.


    "I''m a lawyer."


    The Voice-In-The-Sky seemed to shiver slightly. Our rules of engagement with Evil include a mutual treaty of non-aggression that prohibits direct intervention. When deities clash on the soil of a world...it never ends well for the world in question. This workaround is the most support we can proffer.


    Simon imagined cities turned to dust as gods of Good and Evil fought on a mortal battleground. It was a sobering thought ¨C especially if the other deities were as powerful as Voice-In-The-Sky, able to project its will to billions of people simultaneously.


    Furthermore, Earth stands to gain from this covenant. If a world''s mortal is chosen as a transmigrated champion, then their world is spared from the touch of cosmic war for the next hundred-thousand years.


    Paula snuck in a couple more questions before her fifteen minutes of fame were up. "And who''s going to be this champion of yours?"


    It can be almost anyone on your planet, chosen at random. After filtering out unsuitable candidates, the choice will be made for you.


    "Unsuitable how?"


    Too young, too old...but mostly, those who strongly desire to be transmigrated must be excluded from consideration.


    Impossibly, a stunned silence fell across Earth.


    Or maybe that was just how it seemed to Simon. He didn''t think he would''ve noticed even if someone shouted a megaphone inches away from his ear. The longing in his heart had turned to an icy-cold rage, like permafrost forged at the base of a volcano.


    We shall now begin the¨C


    "You''re a joke."


    Voice-In-The-Sky froze. The projection window shifted, erasing Paula''s face ¨C and replacing it with a new visage.


    It was like looking at a giant, superimposed mirror.


    Simon of North America. You have complaints?


    Everyone nearby turned to stare at him in shock. Across the globe, billions more were doing the same, gazing up at Simon inside the Voice''s projection window. Perhaps under different circumstances, he would have stumbled his words, faltering under an impossible amount of attention and pressure.


    Right now, though?


    "Those who WANT to be transmigrated are excluded?"


    Simon was way too pissed to care.


    "You do know what that sounds like, right?" He crossed his arms, glaring at Voice-In-The-Sky with open disdain. "Kidnapping. Straight-up."


    It is a flawed process, correct. Yet also necessary.


    "Explain. Now. Why can''t you choose someone who''s actually willing to uproot their life?"


    Someone like him? Someone who would''ve sold their soul to be given the chance to make a real difference in the world? If not on Earth, then at least on another?


    Volunteers have been attempted in the past. However...on your sphere, there is a saying: ''Only those who do not seek power are qualified to hold it.'' Mortals who jump at the chance to become champion tend to possess large egos, a tendency towards megalomania, and other personality defects that arise later in time. It has led to many a catastrophe.


    The Voice''s presence sagged with disappointment. On average, reluctant heroes turn out better. Despite their initial complaints, they usually rise to the occasion.


    All at once, Simon understood that if he let Voice-In-The-Sky know just how badly he needed this opportunity, it would slip through his fingers like grains of sand.


    He chose his next words with exceptional care.


    "It''s still not right." Simon injected righteous anger into his tone. "Based on what you''ve said so far, I''m guessing this is a one-way trip. Whoever leaves will never be able to return. They won''t see their loved ones, their family, or their friends ever again. They''ll have to rebuild their life in a completely foreign world."


    Correct.


    "And that''s the best-case scenario. Becoming a champion doesn''t guarantee success. If it wasn''t dangerous, the original champion wouldn''t have bought the farm in the first place. Odds are whoever transmigrates is going to die while fighting for a land that isn''t even theirs."


    Highly possible.


    Simon bared his teeth. "You''re okay with subjecting an unwilling participant to that? Just telling them that their life is over, and they''ve gotta deal with it?"


    When countless lives are at stake? Yes.


    Lowering his arms, Simon clenched both fists until his fingernails drew blood. "No. I can''t accept that. There has to be a better way."


    Voice-In-The-Sky was quiet for five eternally long seconds.


    You feel quite strongly about this.


    As the deity took the bait, Simon''s heart soared with triumph. He made sure not to let any of it show on his face. "Why wouldn''t I?" he hissed. "What you''re suggesting is kidnapping at best, murder at worst."


    Are you concerned that you might be selected? I can exclude you from¨C


    "That doesn''t MATTER! I could handle it! What about someone who couldn''t?!"


    His outburst gave the Voice pause. To be so adamant for the sake of one stranger...


    Very well.


    Rays of gold shone down on Simon like a spotlight from the heavens. It illuminated his face in the Voice''s sky-projector, showing how his expression morphed to a mask of stoic determination.


    Simon of Earth. In circumvention of the standard selection process, you have been chosen to become Valtia''s champion. A champion given the freedom of choice to make this sacrifice in place of another.


    Do you accept?


    Silence reigned as all of Earth waited for his answer on bated breath.


    With a steady hand, Simon reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and called one of his few contacts. "Grace?"


    "Simon." She put a wealth of emotion into his name, ranging from disbelief, to resignation, to affection. "I turned on the TV...I saw..."


    He almost smiled for her, but that might''ve tipped off the Voice. "Sorry. Don''t think I''ll be stopping by the kitchen again."


    Grace didn''t respond immediately. "This is what you want?"


    More than anything. "If it means someone else doesn''t have to? I''ll bite the bullet."


    She sighed. "Then...try to be happy. That''s all I ask."


    "I promise I will." He hesitated. Last chance to tell her. "And thanks. For...being there. You made me feel like I still had a mom."


    With a sense of finality, Simon pressed the ''end call'' icon. He looked up at Voice-In-The-Sky, nodding once. "I''m ready."


    THEN OUR CONTRACT IS SEALED.


    The world spun and vanished.


    --


    When Simon regained consciousness, he was floating in a featureless white void.


    Peering around with interest, he investigated each direction to find absolutely nothing waiting in the distance. A quick check confirmed that his cell phone was getting zero bars ¨C no surprise there either.


    You are more at peace with this than most would be. The Voice resounded in his head, still present even without its incomprehensible form hovering above him.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Simon shrugged. "I agreed to terms offered by an eldritch alien deity thing. A white void seems par for the course." He frowned. "You weren''t lying about the whole multiversal battle between Good and Evil, right?"


    I was not. Assisting the world of Valtia shall be to the benefit of all.


    "Awesome. So ¨C what does being a champion entail, exactly? Is Valtia a swords-and-sorcery kind of world?"


    ...Did I not explain that already?


    "Nope."


    The Voice flickered with something akin to embarrassment. That you would volunteer despite not knowing the details of Valtia''s circumstances is admirable.


    Simon adopted a faint look of regret that he hoped was convincing. "Someone had to."


    Indeed. Regardless, you were correct. Valtia is a medieval world of might and magic. Its champion was a rising warrior of peerless talent. Given time, he would have matured into an unparalleled swordsman ¨C one strong enough to avert catastrophe and topple the despots plaguing his world.


    Voice-In-The-Sky hummed with glee. His allies will be overjoyed when they learn that another has come to take up his mantle. Especially someone with an even larger capacity for growth.


    Simon''s ears perked up at the word ''growth''. "So I''ll learn the champion''s abilities and get stronger as well?"


    His power will be inherited fully, then expanded upon. To facilitate this, a system has been created to categorize your new powers within a framework that should be familiar to you. The term its designers used was ''RPG'', I believe.


    Music to my ears. Simon took a moment to tamp down his budding excitement. "Tell me more about what I''ll be waking up to. What''s the political situation like? Will I be fighting people, monsters, or both?"


    Likely both. Aside from the threat of Fell Beasts, Valtia''s nobility has¨C


    Everything shifted.


    Simon clutched his head as grating, discordant laughter assaulted his senses, worse than nails hammering straight into his brain. It was like the Voice''s initial message but twenty times as harsh; as if it had been intended to inflict agony, rather than the pain simply being a byproduct of communication.


    And then ¨C nothing. The moment ended just as quickly as it began.


    However, it was immediately evident that something had happened. When Simon looked out into the endless white void, he noticed that parts of it were infected with an inky blackness that burnt to look at.


    ...No. Oh no.


    Simon winced. "Not good?"


    No no no no no.


    It was hard to stay composed when his patron deity very much wasn''t, but he managed. "Chill. Let''s take this one step at a time. What happened?"


    Evil struck. The Voice sounded utterly despondent. Cowardly subterfuge, yet undeniably effective. They couldn''t interfere with Valtia directly...but they could interfere with me before the transmigration was completed.


    "So what''s changed?"


    They have tainted the weavings of my magic. It no longer inherits Valtia''s champion ¨C but an insignificant nobody of little renown. You will gain virtually nothing from transmigrating. Sending you to a world of conflict such as Valtia would be no different than slaying you myself.


    "Right. Not the greatest development." Simon suppressed his mounting anxiety and punched his fist into his palm. "What are our options? Maybe you could re-do the spell, or¨C"


    Impossible. The energy required would prevent me from transmigrating another champion for eons. Dozens of worlds would fall prey to the manipulations of Evil. I cannot accept that. Not even to atone for my own carelessness. Valtia will be damned so that others may live.


    All around, the void shook with an atmosphere of formless despair. I...I failed them. Failed you. Failed everyone.


    Simon allowed himself a bit of time to process everything he''s just heard.


    Afterwards, he reached up and awkwardly patted the empty air. "Hey, man...you doing okay?"


    The Voice let out a hollow chuckle. No.


    "Fair enough." Simon offered it a conciliatory smile. "Don''t sweat it. Happens to the best of us. Heck, I just got fired from my job earlier today."


    I do not think the scale is quite comparable.


    "Wasn''t even the first position I''ve been fired from. Turns out, irate customers don''t appreciate it when you say that they''re grotesque caricatures undeserving of love. Your average job performance is probably still way better than mine."


    The Voice chuckled again. This time, there was slightly more humor to it. You are a good man, Simon of Earth. I shall ensure that you are sent home free of harm. It is the least I can do to¨C


    "Woah, woah, woah," Simon interrupted. "Who said anything about going back to Earth?"


    Voice-In-The-Sky stared at him with a sightless gaze of confusion. What other choice is there for you?


    "Finishing the transmigration, obviously."


    You...don''t seem to understand. My magic as it is now would turn you into the furthest thing from a champion, both bodily and geographically. I am not even sure of what awaits you in Valtia ¨C only that it would almost assuredly be fatal.


    Simon tilted his head. "But I''d still have the RPG system thing. And Earth would be ''spared from the touch of cosmic war'' for a really long time."


    Well, yes.


    "Then send me over. I got this."


    It all came down to a simple cost-benefit analysis. Valtia was a medieval world of ¨C presumably ¨C low technology and impoverished people. There would be more chances for Simon to climb the political ladder and unseat whatever leaders were in charge. By force, if necessary. And when combined with guaranteed power growth?


    As far as Simon was concerned, he still had better odds of making a difference there than on Earth.


    Such sacrifice. You would do this to ensure your world''s protection?


    The Voice spoke with borderline reverence. Simon nodded, happy to let it draw its own conclusions.


    ...Then I can only respect your decision, and thank you for it.


    Luminous energy of blue and gold gathered around Simon. He felt his body start to be pulled in all directions, first weakly, then with increasing pressure. It wasn''t painful, just weird as hell.


    As the Voice''s magic prepared to form, it communicated with him one last time, using a tone that begged for him to listen.


    Simon. Forget performing any grand heroics. Simply do what you can. Brighten Valtia''s darkness with your light, however small or flickering it may be. That is the most I can possibly ask from you.


    It paused for emphasis. Don''t throw your life away.


    Simon nodded. "Sounds reasonable. If I''m not getting cheat code champion powers, then the smart thing to do would be to play it safe."


    The energy coalesced, obscuring his sight with colors of radiance. Right before he disappeared, an earnest smile spread across Simon''s face.


    "But I hope you don''t mind if I go ahead and save the world anyway."


    --


    Alert: Transmigration Complete!


    Simon awoke to a body full of aches and a mouth full of dirt.


    He kept very still as his senses returned, pain covering him from head to toe. It was like he''d been run over by a car, knocked deeper into traffic, then run over by several more cars for good measure. Thoughts bleary, he wondered what the hell had happened to him ¨C before remembering the details of what the Voice had promised.


    ''My magic no longer inherits Valtia''s champion, but an insignificant nobody of little renown.''


    He was taking over for whoever this poor schmuck was. They''d died recently...and apparently, their death hadn''t been a peaceful one. In the process of replacing his existence, Simon had evidently inherited some of his injuries as well.


    It was a minor setback, but nothing too bad. This was basically the kind of starting point Simon had expected when agreeing to a flawed transmigration. He''d make it work.


    Growing accustomed to the pain, Simon contemplated opening his eyes, then decided against it. His head felt like it had the mother of all hangovers right now, and something as simple as a sunbeam might literally kill him.


    Instead, Simon focused his ears, listening to his surroundings. Everything seemed quiet. All he could hear was a light...


    Chewing?


    ...


    Simon forced one eye halfway open. Thankfully, it was dark out, with moonlight only somewhat illuminating the outdoor area. His head was spared from further agony.


    Unfortunately, there was enough light for him to catch sight of the enormous mutated rat just a stone''s throw away.


    The creature was jarringly huge. By Simon''s estimation, it was at least seven feet long and had a head larger than his torso. The rat''s fur was matted with blood, and its oversized rodent limbs bulged in strange ways, as if they were packed to bursting with muscle.


    What''s more, it was munching on a human corpse ¨C one of many corpses, now that he took a closer look. The peaceful field he was laying in was littered with six chewed-apart bodies.


    Huh, Simon thought, mildly dazed. I know adventures often start out with killing rats, but isn''t this a bit much?


    Mercifully, Stuart Not-So-Little didn''t notice that he was awake. The beast was too busy gorging itself on free food like a big furry vulture. With herculean effort, Simon forced his thoughts to remain tranquil ¨C freaking out now would be a death sentence.


    Think. Assess the situation. Most rats fled at the first sign of trouble, but for some reason, he doubted that this particular variant would. If Stuart realized that he was conscious, it would consider him a threat and sink its teeth into his intestines before he could even stand up.


    It''s fine, Simon told himself. Totally fine. If he repeated it often enough, perhaps it would come true. Options. Right. What are my options?


    Option 1: Play dead. Eventually, Stuart would have its fill of corpse-flesh and leave.


    Tempting, but risky. He had no guarantee of how much that thing could eat or how good its senses were. If it noticed Simon''s breathing...that was it. Game over.


    Option 2: Run away. Staying here was just too dangerous.


    His caveman instincts told him that this was a fantastic idea. Simon politely informed them that there was a reason cavemen weren''t known for their long-term planning skills. Even if his body wasn''t in a half-dead state, he couldn''t have outrun Stuart. If normal-sized rats were already agile, then this one probably put Olympic medalists to shame.


    Option 3: Kill it.


    Okay, but how? Assuming that he could move his aching body enough to put up a fight, Simon still didn''t have a proper weapon.


    He swept his eyes across the clearing, noting a great many shattered blades littered among the corpse pile. Nothing remained that was longer than a dagger, and he really, really didn''t want to stick his fingers close to Stuart when stabbing. That seemed like an easy way to lose them.


    Power, he suddenly recalled. I was supposed to inherit power. This Joe Schmoe might not have been a champion, but he was still an inhabitant of Valtia. Maybe he would''ve been strong enough to put up a fight. And didn''t Voice-In-The-Sky say there would be additional transmigration bonuses?


    A subtle impulse began to grow in the back of Simon''s mind, insistent and unfamiliar. With nothing to lose, he heeded its call, reaching out with a thought and grasping it.


    He stifled a gasp as lines of text began cascading down his vision.


    Simon


    Class: Fledgling


    Level: 1


    HP: 32 / 90


    MP: 50 / 50


    Strength: 12


    Dexterity: 8


    Vitality: 9


    Intelligence: 5


    Although he couldn''t be sure without testing things...all those stats looked perilously low. Single-digit numbers in RPGs were rarely a good sign. Seriously, Level 1? Hats off to the Evil gods ¨C they''d chosen their anti-champion well.


    Moving down, he checked his list of Traits. There were quite a few to look on, so he immediately honed in on the couple that were relevant to his current situation.


    Transmigrator''s Body


    -Your body has become like that of a fictional game character. Grievous wounds will not affect your combat efficacy. You barely bleed from injuries, slowly regenerate over time, and will completely restore to full health after a good night''s sleep. Lastly, you will only die when your HP reaches zero.


    Inventory


    -You may place inanimate items within touch range into a dimensional storage container. Items in storage can be produced at will. Limit of 100 pounds or 250 cubic feet of storage.


    So he would heal up nicely...if he lived. Throwing a Hail Mary, Simon accessed his Inventory, hoping against hope that something useful had been conveniently placed in it.


    No dice.


    Stuart had moved onto its next corpse. The last uneaten body aside from Simon himself.


    Still have the Skills to look at. With an internal drum roll, Simon kept reading.


    <u>Active Skills</u>


    Identify (Level MAX)


    -Transmigration bonus. Use on non-living objects to receive a short description of their attributes.


    Power Smash (Rank 1)


    -Increase the effectiveness of your next unarmed physical melee attack. 15-minute cooldown.


    --


    <u>Passive Skills</u>


    Intimidation (Rank 1)


    -Sightly raises your persuasive prowess ¨C as long as the person is scared of you.


    Grappling (Rank 2)


    -Increases grip strength.


    That was...a mild improvement. While he would''ve preferred fireballs and death lasers, beggars couldn''t be choosers. Simon doubted that Intimidate would function on an overgrown rat, but maybe Power Smash might be able to finish the job.


    Peeking carefully, Simon closely scrutinized Stuart''s condition. The plus-sized rodent had dried blood matting its fur in numerous places. There was even one broken-off sword sticking out of its flank. Stuart prey hadn''t gone down without a fight.


    But it wasn''t so injured that Simon could beat it to death with his bare hands, Power Smash or otherwise.


    Need more. Defaulting to the one Skill he could try without drawing attention to himself, Simon reached into his mind and attempted to cast Identify on a random object.


    Activating it turned out to be easier than he''d imagined. Just like how a person couldn''t describe how they ordered their brain to move their limbs, Simon used the Skill without even thinking, operating on an instinct that hadn''t existed before he was transmigrated to Valtia. Another set of words immediately appeared in front of his vision.


    Name: Broken Sword


    Description: Once a weapon, now a lump of jagged metal. Was considered poorly-made even in its prime. Damaged during an ambush by a newborn Fell Beast.


    Not super helpful, but at least the Skill works. Wasting no time, Simon went about casting Identify on every notable object in the area. He examined lifeless bodies and piles of wooden debris, searching for something that might help him. His range of vision was limited, as he didn''t want to alert Stuart by moving his head too much, so he made do with whatever was readily visible.


    In the span of a minute, Simon found three more broken swords, five sets of ruined clothes, an empty food container, a torn-apart diary, four piles of human gristle, two unsent love letters, and one very large rock.


    Oh, and a magically-enchanted piece of equipment.


    Name: Glove of Minor Strength (Left Hand)


    Description: A lesser Artifact. When activated, temporarily increases Strength by 15 points for 15 seconds. Can be used once per hour.


    He wouldn''t have been able to tell it was special without using Identify. The glove looked like any other ¨C just a brown piece of roughspun leather. From what Simon could tell, it was close to his size.


    More importantly, unlike its Right Hand sibling, it hadn''t been torn to shreds during Stuart''s rampage. And it was right next to him!


    The fun ended there, because to retrieve the glove, Simon would have to take it from its owner. Who was still wearing it. Not that the man would miss it at this point, but removing the glove would involve a degree of movement that Stuart might notice.


    Which was still a better plan than waiting to be eaten alive.


    Smooth and stealthy, Simon thought, doing his best to distract himself from the corpse''s fetid stench and glassy eyes. He reached over with agonizing slowness, as if he was disarming a live bomb, aware that his life depended on not jumping the gun. His fingers hooked around the edge of the glove, brushing against cold flesh, and began to gradually, gently tug.


    Bit by bit, the glove inched downwards. The corpse''s body wiggled slightly with each pull. No biggie, Simon distantly noted. This beats retail any day. Stuart doesn''t even rank in the Top 5 worst customers I''ve had this past month.


    As he gazed into the corpse''s tortured expression, vacant eyes staring directly forward, Simon managed to feel nothing. A distorted pride grew inside him ¨C he hadn''t known his coping mechanisms were this effective.


    With one last tug, the glove came free. Simon put it onto his left hand with equal amounts of care.


    As soon as it fit over his skin, he jumped to his feet.


    The one bright side of having way too long to mull over a desperate situation was that it afforded him plenty of time to plan. He had already considered and discarded dozens of ill-conceived ideas...leaving just the one that might succeed.


    Before Stuart could react, Simon wrapped both hands around the midsection of its bulbous tail. Grappling Rank 2 automatically made his fingers clench like an iron vice. Reaching inward, his system-granted instincts obeyed his next command.


    Activate: Glove of Minor Strength.


    At once, his body filled with otherworldly Strength, the stat more than doubling. Simon''s mouth split into a wild, savage grin as he lifted with every muscle in his body.


    Stuart belted out a hideous screech. The rat could do nothing as it rose upwards, its serrated claws scrambling at air.


    Activate: Power Smash.


    Simon aimed for the large rock located just feet away.


    His grin widened further as Stuart''s skull cracked against sharp-edged stone. Bloodied bone fragments were sent flying, splattering the dirt with red-stained shards of white. The force of the blow bounced Stuart back up as its frantic scrambling intensified.


    Twelve seconds left until the Glove wears off.


    Simon pivoted, turning in a circle to keep his momentum. When he''d completed a rotation, he slammed Stuart''s skull onto that same sharp-edged rock. This blow wasn''t enhanced by Power Smash, but a sickening crunch still echoed throughout the air, sounding to Simon like a bell of victory.


    Nine seconds left.


    Once more, he pivoted, turned, and slammed.


    Six seconds.


    Pivot, turn, slam.


    Three.


    A final crack serenaded his ears.


    Stuart stopped struggling.


    Simon let go, his Strength leaving him. The rat''s corpse flopped to the ground in a heap. Its head had caved inwards, a half-ruined brain visible through the gaping hole in its skull.


    A system alert confirmed his victory.


    Newborn Fell Beast has been slain!


    Your Level and Stats have increased!


    Level: 1 ¡ú 2


    Strength: 12 ¡ú 15


    Dexterity: 8 ¡ú9


    Simon felt the muscles in his body rapidly harden. It was like he''d gone through months of gym training in a matter of seconds. The sensation of growing that much stronger in an instant was intoxicating beyond anything he''d experienced on Earth.


    And it was nothing compared to the elation swelling within his soul.


    Level 2. Simon gaped at the system notification as if it was Santa Claus himself coming to deliver presents. He flexed his muscles, relishing in his newfound power. From defeating a single enemy, he had become, objectively, a stronger person than before.


    Progress. Tangible progress. Something besides just sitting in his room, obsessing over how the future would play out. Killing one giant rat in the wilderness wasn''t going to further his end goals, but by taking that first step towards improving himself...


    Those goals no longer seemed so far out of reach.


    Simon took a seat on Stuart''s twitching body. Blood and corpses surrounded him. There was no sign of civilization anywhere in sight. He was alone and without any apparent supplies. He''d almost died mere seconds after transmigrating. If his plan had failed, Stuart would''ve turned around and ripped his flesh to pieces. And for all he knew, there could be more monstrous creatures lurking just outside of view.


    A laughter of pure joy escaped his throat, filling the cool night air.


    "I think I''m gonna like it here."

 Chapter 2

    Simon let himself soak in the moment for a full, glorious minute.


    It was surprisingly difficult to switch gears and get down to business afterwards. A part of him wanted nothing more than to sit there and remember the Strength coursing through his arms. To savor the thrill of felling a Beast and increasing his Level. To indulge in that liberating feeling of progress after years of stagnation.


    Perhaps he would have ¨C if not for the overwhelming scent of blood and death around him. Even with his eyes closed, it reminded Simon of where he was now. This wasn''t a world that let people take things at their own pace. Make one mistake, and you could wind up as a side dish in a monster''s buffet.


    Before doing anything else, Simon stood up and slowly turned in a circle, carefully examining the surrounding environment. Without a giant killer rat taking up the bulk of his attention, he was free to take a good look at where and what he''d been dropped into.


    There honestly wasn''t much to see. He couldn''t spot a single tree or landmark nearby; just an endless expanse of barren nothing.


    The ground consisted of two wildly different biomes that alternated without rhyme or reason ¨C both of them lifeless. Most parts were made up of dry, parched soil. The rest was what appeared to be black, hardened rock, as if lava had flowed over the area and cooled. Errant tufts of sickly-green grass were visible in certain places, but they were fighting a losing battle against what seemed to be a certifiable wasteland.


    If civilization existed in this neck of Valtia, then he was a long hike away from it.


    Initially, Simon thought that was a double-edged sword. No trees or landmarks meant nowhere to hide if another Fell Beast attacked. On the other hand, it also meant that he would be able to see them coming well in advance. No surprise ambushes.


    Then he realized that the half-dozen corpses laying at his feet had been afforded the same advantage ¨C and Stuart massacred them anyway. He shouldn''t make assumptions about what the Beasts were capable of.


    If he didn''t find safe shelter soon...


    The temptation to pick a direction and start running was ruthlessly quashed. He wouldn''t benefit from panicking like a headless chicken. If Simon wanted to live long enough to feel progress again, then he needed to stay relaxed, assess the situation, and produce an actionable plan that would maximize his chances of survival.


    First: evaluate what resources I have available. Starting with the most important resource of all.


    Himself.


    Character Sheet.


    Simon


    Class: Fledgling


    Level: 2


    HP: 33 / 90


    MP: 50 / 50


    Strength: 15


    Dexterity: 9


    Vitality: 9


    Intelligence: 5


    He scrutinized each line in order, searching for meaning within the floating screens of text. Voice-In-The-Sky''s tutorial on the System hadn''t been very extensive. Granted, it would''ve explained more if things had gone as planned...and Simon didn''t help matters by hurrying the Voice along before it could back out of the transmigration.


    That was okay. He''d make do.


    ''Class: Fledgling'' seemed self-evident. Classes in RPG games typically referred to vocations such as Warrior, Archer, Mage, etc. As a low-Level novice, Simon''s ''Fledgling'' indicated that he wasn''t good at anything in particular. Presumably, that would change once he grew stronger and gained more Levels.


    It was too early to wonder what type of Class he should aim for. Simon had no idea what would be most effective in a world like this. While magic was usually powerful in fictional fantasy stories, Valtia was very much real. He didn''t want to make guesses based on faulty information and wind up preemptively shooting himself in the foot.


    ''Level: 2'' brought a rekindled smile to his face. Minutes into his new life, and he was already stronger than before. Voice-In-The-Sky hadn''t been lying about a transmigrator''s capacity for growth.


    Just have to live long enough to realize my potential. What was the best way to increase Levels in Valtia? If it was anything like the games he''d played, then earning EXP was a byproduct of indiscriminate slaughter.


    As the smell of death assaulted his senses once more, Simon had an inkling that he might be given the chance to test that theory soon.


    ''HP'' he would come back to later, as it related to one of his Traits. ''MP'' was probably his resource for using magic, but after some quick experimentation with flailing hands and fruitless concentrating, Simon determined that he didn''t know any spells.


    With any luck, that would change in time as well. He was still holding out hope for a mega-laser.


    ''Strength'' and ''Dexterity'' were easy to understand. Power and speed. Without access to in-depth testing facilities, though, he wouldn''t know exactly how much something like 15 Strength was worth. The Glove''s boost had let him temporarily lift Stuart, so at least it was nothing to sneeze at.


    ''Vitality'' and ''Intelligence'' likely correlated to his HP and MP. Simon doubted that Intelligence represented his actual intelligence; rather, it was a catch-all term for his proficiency in spellcasting and magic. Otherwise, he reserved the right to be offended over it being his lowest stat.


    Speaking of stats... He thought back to when he leveled up after killing Stuart. His Strength had increased by 3, and his Dexterity by 1. Would he gain 4 more stat points with every Level? Was it automated? Or was there a way to control how his stats were allocated?


    Simon looked upwards. "You there, Voice-In-The-Sky?" he hazarded. "I''ve got some System questions that need answers."


    Silence.


    No surprise there. The Voice had explicitly stated that both the Good and Evil gods were restricted from directly interfering in contested worlds. Simon was on his own.


    The thought didn''t bother him very much. He''d been on his own for a while now.


    Progressing further down his Character Sheet, Simon began perusing the Traits section. Didn''t even have to skim this time! It was nice not having to rush through as he watched a ravenous Fell Beast munch on people in his peripheral vision.


    <u>Traits</u>


    System Integration


    -To facilitate growth and ease of use, your abilities and personal parameters have been integrated into a game-centric System.


    The Voice''s System was already paying dividends. Without using Identify ¨C which had been specified as a ''Transmigration bonus'' ¨C Simon wouldn''t have noticed the Glove of Minor Strength. Without the Glove, he wouldn''t have had enough raw power to kill Stuart. Without a way to kill Stuart, he would have been forced to take his chances by running.


    And he wouldn''t have gotten far. No different than the mangled bodies surrounding him.


    Life in Valtia for the average person seemed as harsh as he''d been told to expect.


    Transmigrator''s Body


    -Your body has become like that of a fictional game character. Grievous wounds will not affect your combat efficacy. You barely bleed from injuries, slowly regenerate over time, and will completely restore to full health after a good night''s sleep. Lastly, you will only die when your HP reaches zero.


    Simon grinned. Transmigrator''s Body meant that even if he got put through the wringer, he would be back on his feet in 24 hours, max. He could take all sorts of stupid risks and still win as long as he didn''t outright die.


    Not that he was going to take stupid risks. His risks were always supremely well-calculated. No matter what other people said.


    Although...something about ''you will only die when your HP reaches zero'' gave him pause. He wasn''t sure why. Would need to theorize more when time permitted.


    Sworn to Secrecy


    -The existence of other worlds, and the transmigration process in general, cannot be revealed in any capacity to the natives of Valtia. Your clothing has been replaced by Valtia-appropriate attire, and incongruent off-world items have been removed from your person.


    In other words ¨C don''t rock the boat.


    Simon peered down at his clothes, seeing a simple rough shirt and woolen pants. The material was scratchy and uncomfortable compared to the luxury of modern cotton. After a brief patdown, he also confirmed that his cell phone and wallet were missing.


    Finally, he tried to verbalize the sentence "I''m from a land called Earth", only to find that he physically couldn''t. Not even to an audience of lifeless cadavers. The words stuck in his throat like a pocket of solid air.


    It was annoying but understandable. Simon could see how informing a world''s inhabitants that they were unwitting participants of a cosmic battleground might be...problematic.


    Universal Translator


    -Gain the capacity to understand all written and spoken languages in Valtia. Your speech and writing will automatically be translated to natives.


    That was a relief. He would''ve learned Valtia''s languages anyway, but doing so would take time, and illiterate people tended to be frowned upon by the closed-minded. Simon was already going to be at a major social disadvantage from having no money, connections, home, family, or supplies. He didn''t need more handicaps.


    Inventory


    -You may place inanimate items within touch range into a dimensional storage container. Items in storage can be produced at will. Limit of 100 pounds or 250 cubic feet of storage.


    A hoarder''s dream, and a must-have for any would-be game character. They often carried an absurd amount of stuff on them at all times. Some of it valuable...some of it not so valuable. Either way, it was usually more than what five people combined could have effectively transported.


    As soon as the thought came to him, Simon walked over to the nearest broken sword laying on the ground. He reached down, touching his fingers to its hilt. Activate: Inventory.


    Blue light filled the air. Within a quarter of a second, the sword had vanished, placed into dimensional storage. He experimented with the Skill for a bit longer, repeatedly bringing out and then re-storing the item until the process felt instinctual.


    Satisfied, he moved on to the next sword, placing it in Inventory as well. Damaged as the blades were, he might be able to sell them for scrap at the next town or village he found. Considering that his funds currently consisted of whatever dregs he managed to loot from Stuart''s victims, Simon would take anything he could get.


    Searching the corpses for usable supplies proved to be a grisly but necessary process. This was the first time he''d personally handled a dead body ¨C let alone six of them ¨C and he quickly decided that he wasn''t a super big fan. Regardless, Simon was thorough in examining what remained of the caravan and its crew, ensuring that he scrounged up everything he could.


    Which gave him plenty of time to contemplate the last Trait on the list.


    Heroic Valor


    -Gain additional Experience when performing acts of significant goodness and heroism.


    Simon recalled something that Voice-In-The-Sky had mentioned when addressing the people of Earth.


    ''Your capacity for growth will be unmatched in Valtia, and your power will swell when performing deeds of heroism and valor.''


    That hadn''t just been flowery language for the sake of it. The system directly rewarded Simon with bonus EXP when he acted like a hero. It was likely an added incentive so that the gods'' champion stayed on the path of righteousness.


    He was pretty sure that his near future would still involve a healthy amount of monster killing, but the existence of Heroic Valor stirred his mind with possibilities. Could he have ¨C as an example ¨C leveled up from working at Grace''s soup kitchen? How much extra EXP would he accrue from just being himself?


    A genuine smile crept up his face. He couldn''t have asked for a more perfect Trait.


    ...Though I''d be tempted to trade it for a fully-stocked grocery shopping cart. Most of the caravan''s food had either been destroyed in their scuffle with Stuart or greedily devoured by the rat itself. That left Simon with only a couple days worth of provisions ¨C if he rationed.


    He was staring at Stuart''s bloated carcass when inspiration struck. Summoning the broken sword from Inventory, he carved a small chunk of meat from the rat''s flank. Then he activated Identify, focusing on the Skill''s intent, willing it to inform him whether the Fell Beast''s flesh was edible.


    Name: Fell-Tainted Meat


    Description: A chunk of flesh from the body of a Fell Beast. Lethal to most humans when ingested. In the rare cases it doesn''t kill you, you''ll wish it had.


    Ominous and vague. Great.


    Breathing deep, Simon pushed aside the looming specter of inevitable death creeping up his neck. Don''t get bogged down in what-ifs. Take a mental step back, then draw up a plan.


    What do I need, right here, right now?


    Food. Shelter. Power. In that order.


    Things like Money and Influence would come later. He could hardly save Valtia if he starved or got murdered by Fell Beasts before ever meeting a single living person.


    What can I do to achieve my immediate short-term goals?


    Power...would be tricky. That was the problem with starting at Level 1. He couldn''t get stronger without fighting, yet he was too weak to win most fights. His victory against Stuart had been a fluke ¨C from the rat''s perspective, an enemy that it''d already killed suddenly rose from the grave and ambushed it out of nowhere.


    There was a lesson in that. If Simon wanted to overcome opponents stronger than him, he needed to avoid direct confrontations. As a Level 2 outsider, the element of surprise would be his number one ally.


    Alternatively, Heroic Valor might help him gain Levels without having to risk his life...but there weren''t many deeds of ''significant goodness and heroism'' he could pull off in an empty wasteland. Had to find other people to help first.


    Food and Shelter could also be solved by finding others. He wouldn''t gamble on the magnanimity of random strangers ¨C especially in what was presumably a cold, harsh world ¨C but people were usually receptive to a fair deal. Worst came to worst, he could trade items with them or offer his services for a fee.


    Eating Stuart''s flesh would be a last resort. It couldn''t hurt to stow some within Inventory, just in case, but only for if his body grew so weak that he couldn''t walk anymore. What he actually needed was non-tainted nourishment; made by humans, for humans.


    People. Civilization. Where''s the closest settlement? How do I reach it?


    He hadn''t found a map or compass among the caravan''s ruined supplies. Its shredded, bloodstained papers may have been a map once upon a time, but no longer. At least the unsent love letters had endured Stuart''s wrath ¨C Simon was looking forward to reading them when he wasn''t so busy trying not to die.


    No landmarks I can see, and no compass. Even with a map, they would''ve been lost traveling through here. What did they use to navigate?


    Maybe someone with a Tracking Skill, assuming that ability existed. If so, and if they''d been traveling without the need for basic navigational implements...then Simon had no usable information to go off of. He really would be picking a random direction and praying for the best.


    Unless...


    Simon examined the surrounding environment once more. If he squinted, he could kinda make out something resembling a road threading across the land. There were markings of wear-and-tear on the ground indicating that people had tread there before. It was so faint that he nearly second-guessed himself, unsure if he wasn''t imagining things to make himself feel better.


    In the end, what persuaded him was one of the fallen humans. Their corpse was situated a little further down the ''road'' ¨C as if they''d been attempting to flee in that direction when the Fell Beast caught them.


    It''ll have to do.


    After gathering as much of Stuart''s meat as Inventory could carry, Simon set off in a forward march. His soft footsteps rang like gunshots through the quiet night. He didn''t look back as he left the dead behind him, feeling no need to pay his respects or say farewell.


    Not when he would probably be joining them soon enough.


    He intended to fight tooth and nail to survive ¨C but that didn''t change the facts. For all Simon knew, the next town might be weeks of travel away. Months, even. The desolate wasteland extending out to the horizon didn''t exactly paint an optimistic picture. And if he didn''t find food before reaching civilization?


    Then he would starve. No amount of gumption or a can-do attitude could alter his fundamental need for caloric intake.


    No, wait, scratch that. He would die of thirst long before. People dehydrated much faster than they starved. Apparently, it was a rather miserable way to go.


    Yet even though Voice-In-The-Sky''s warnings about the transmigration were turning out to be depressingly accurate...


    Simon had no regrets.


    Because at least he''d seized an opportunity when it presented itself. Because at least he''d taken action rather than watching his dreams wither and decay over a course of decades.


    Because at least he''d tried.


    --


    Hours of solitude passed by. The dark of night enveloped Simon as he marched onwards, almost like a tangible presence walking alongside him.


    Mercifully, it was the only companion he had at the moment. Lonely darkness was much preferable to being visited by one of Stuart''s relatives.


    Although I doubt the other Fell Beasts are all big rats, he mused. The name implies something more varied than that. Based on Stuart''s appearance...a collection of mutated animals? But the Voice spoke as if Valtia was facing an existential threat. He wouldn''t have needed to airdrop a champion over here just to run pest control. I''m definitely missing context.


    When Simon eventually acquired some money and established himself, his first order of business would be hiring someone to explain Valtia in excruciating detail to him. Exposition-on-demand. Putting together the pieces of a puzzle was one thing, but his current ruminations were closer to guesswork derived from ignorance. Garbage information tended to produce garbage conclusions.


    Aside from theorizing and keeping an eye out for ambushes, though, there wasn''t much else to occupy his mind. Simon had grown up in a crowded, bustling city. He was used to distractions competing for his attention every second of the day.


    To him, twilight didn''t mean peaceful silence ¨C it meant ambulances and police sirens wailing in the distance. He would need time to adjust from ''city kid'' to ''rural hiker''.


    The sight of a clear moonlit sky was helping with that.


    Despite knowing that he should be watching for Fell Beasts in the distance, Simon''s gaze kept drifting upwards. This was the first time he''d witnessed a night sky free of city light pollution. The stars were vibrant, numerous, and beautiful, like a tapestry of twinkling worlds stretching infinitely across the cosmos.


    And among that sea of stars, what stood out most of all was the moon; the tapestry''s centerpiece, an orb of dazzling silver that fought to dispel the encroaching darkness of night. Looking up now, it was easy to comprehend why so many societies throughout history had worshiped the moon as a sort of deity. Before telescopes and astronomy and space voyages demystified the unfathomable, how could someone have gazed upon a vista like this and been anything but awestruck?


    In retrospect, Simon did have one regret from transmigrating. He wished that he''d seen a clear sky on Earth first so he could compare the two. Would the moon and stars back home have measured up to the luminescent marvel filling his vision now?


    Not bad, Valtia. After being introduced to his new world in a frenzy of death and violence...this was the kind of palette cleanser he sorely appreciated. Maybe you won''t be so¨C


    He heard a sound.


    Simon whirled around. With a flash of blue light, he produced the least-broken sword from his Inventory, materializing it directly into his right hand. His left hand clenched into a fist, still wearing the Glove of Minor Strength. Staring intently, he searched the moonlit darkness.


    Nothing was there.


    He waited for something to change ¨C for a screech to resound as sharp claws and gnashing fangs came tearing out of the shadows.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Nothing. No movement, no noise. Just the incessant drum of his own heartbeat jackhammering inside his chest.


    Had he actually heard a sound? Simon told himself that as he slowly turned back around, resuming his journey. His mind was probably just cooking up noises to entertain itself. The subconscious nostalgia of a city-goer, pining for ambulances and police sirens.


    As he continued walking, however...he kept his gaze fixated at ground-level.


    --


    Earlier, Simon had peered up at the starry night sky and wondered how it compared to Earth''s.


    But this? He doubted there was anything like this. Not anything that existed in nature.


    A lone tree was growing out of the arid, rocky wasteland. It looked healthy and strong. That would have been improbable enough as it was ¨C except that the tree was also glowing. A bright yellow radiance shone from every inch of its leaves and bark, like it was covered with thousands of invisible lightbulbs.


    Safety.


    The notion came to Simon unbidden, as if nudged into his head by a foreign presence. This tree was safe. Safe. Safe. It beckoned him forward, inviting the transmigrator to rest under its boughs, take a breather, and relax.


    He forced himself to step back. Much as he wanted to believe that this was his literal light in the darkness...it seemed way too convenient.


    Could be a Venus flytrap scenario. Getting mind-controlled by a carnivorous tree hadn''t been on the Valtia bingo card, but he was in a land of fantasy now. Weirder things were possible.


    Thankfully, he possessed a method of objectively verifying information. Identify.


    Name: Sanctuary Tree


    Description: The remnant of a Sanctuary Grove. Contains sacred mana that provides refuge from Fell creatures. To humans, it is harmless and beneficial.


    Simon''s eyebrows lifted with surprise. Not only was the tree legit, but it had also once been part of something greater. This was direct evidence that Valtia was in decline ¨C as if everything else wasn''t already proof enough.


    After several moments of consideration, he made an executive decision and approached the Sanctuary Tree. The sun wasn''t close to rising yet, and while Simon could pull an all-nighter if necessary, he needed to pace himself. Finding the nearest town would be a marathon, not a sprint, and proper sleep would help keep his body in tip-top condition.


    He cautiously settled down with his back resting against the tree''s trunk. When it didn''t open up to reveal a maw of hungry teeth, Simon allowed himself to let out a relieved sigh, fatigue flowing out of him in waves.


    Blue light briefly mingled with yellow as he accessed Inventory. Simon produced a relatively unbloodied cloak taken from one of the deceased caravan members. It would serve as a headwrap to cover his eyes ¨C sleeping under the Sanctuary Tree''s glow would be difficult otherwise.


    He also produced the unread love letters. With any luck, their contents would give him clues regarding the world he now inhabited. And even if they didn''t...


    Who didn''t enjoy a bit of gossip? Maybe it was gauche to snoop on a dead man''s private, bare-your-soul writings, but it wasn''t like the guy was around to feel embarrassed about it.


    Yeah. This should do nicely. Simon looked up at the tree''s leaf-laden canopy and gave it a thumbs-up. Thanks for the assist. Smiling over his first victory that hadn''t involved bludgeoning an oversized rodent to death, he lowered his gaze to stare out at the road.


    Four crimson-red eyes stared back at him.


    It was impossible to see what manner of Beast they were attached to. The monster''s bodily form was shrouded in thick, unnatural fog. No sound had heralded its arrival. One moment, the road was empty, and the next moment, it was here.


    Shock pierced Simon''s chest like a knife ¨C yet he still took action. Without skipping a beat, he stood up and summoned the fractured sword from his Inventory, assuming a battle-ready position.


    The Fell Beast''s crimson eyes remained motionless. Two glared at Simon, and the other two at the Sanctuary Tree.


    All four were filled with a deep, cavernous hunger.


    Perhaps five seconds passed. Perhaps five minutes ¨C or even five hours. To Simon, watching and waiting for the Beast to strike, it would have felt the same.


    He blinked.


    The creature was gone.


    Simon didn''t get much sleep that night.


    --


    After awakening from a fitful slumber the next morning, the first thing he did was check to see if he was still in one piece.


    While Identify had assured him that the Sanctuary Tree would protect him from Fell Beasts, Simon was still happy to note that he hadn''t been nibbled on overnight. What''s more, either the tree or Transmigrator''s Body had healed his body of its aches and pains, bringing his HP up to full.


    This was a place of refuge. If he stayed here, no harm would come to him.


    With haste, Simon gathered his belongings and left the Sanctuary Tree behind.


    It was the toughest decision he''d made thus far. Nothing outside the tree''s range of protection felt remotely safe ¨C he was practically jumping at the sound of his own footsteps. The soothing light of the morning sun did little to dispel the paranoia that had taken root within his heart.


    "Not paranoia if it''s real", he muttered to himself. The Fell Beast had effortlessly snuck up on him twice now. Simon wasn''t even sure how its abilities functioned...or why it hadn''t completed its hunt yet.


    However, in spite of his reservations, there was no ultimately choice in the matter. The show must go on. His rations wouldn''t last forever, and he wasn''t so lucky that another caravan would happen to stumble upon him.


    Guess the tree was a Venus flytrap after all. Just a benevolent one. It would have kept him warm, safe, and content as he gradually wasted away.


    Besides ¨C even if he was lucky enough for a second caravan to cross paths with him, would they be so charitable as to rescue a vagrant wanderer? Or would they be rightfully suspicious of a sketchy man unable to explain his purpose or origins?


    If there was one thing Simon knew from personal experience, one thing he was more certain of than anything else in the world...it was that you couldn''t rely on the kindness of strangers.


    No one was coming to rescue him. He would have to save himself.


    Which was another reason why he''d opted to leave the Sanctuary Tree. Last night hadn''t been a total wash. Specifically, the love letters of one dear, departed Ardyn Cobblestone had proved very enlightening.


    First, Simon learned that Ardyn ¨C despite seeming rough around the edges ¨C possessed the soul of a poet. If sweet Relia had ever gotten the chance to read his letters, surely she would have been smitten! Alas, it was not meant to be. His love would go unrequited, like words of affirmation written in snow, yet melting under the changing seasons. It was a drama so tragic that it brought tears to the eye.


    Oh, and Simon had also learned why their caravan was out here to begin with.


    That was mildly important too.


    He followed the road for many anxiety-inducing hours after departing from the Sanctuary Tree. Simon didn''t know how close his destination was, or if the Fell Beast was still stalking him. Checking around constantly for ambushes almost felt like a futile endeavor. If the creature truly wanted him dead, a Level 2 vagabond with a broken sword wasn''t going to put up much of a fight.


    But for whatever reason, he was left untouched. And after nearly half a day of walking...he had arrived.


    Simon stood before what appeared to be the entrance to an underground cave system. A stone structure twenty feet tall and wide was built into the ground, with the entrance itself being a small opening in the center.


    Evidently, it had been here for quite some time. Simon could see signs of wear and tear on the exterior stone sections, and the remains of a destroyed iron gate was visible in front of the cave''s entrance.


    Two glowing orbs that reminded him of the Sanctuary Tree were embedded on both sides of the entrance.


    Identify.


    Name: Warding Orb


    Description: An Artifact imbued with sacred mana. Wards off Fell Beasts. Will be fully depleted of energy within approximately one year''s time.


    Simon attempted to pull out the Warding Orbs and take them along, but even when using the Glove of Power, they stayed lodged in tight. Using Inventory on them didn''t work either, as they''d been fused to the stone structure. Whoever put them there did not want them removed.


    Disappointing, but not a setback. The Orbs would''ve just been a nice bonus ¨C they weren''t the reason he''d come here. He thought back to the very first line of Ardyn''s letter.


    ''If your eyes are gracing this parchment, Relia, it means that our plunder of Caelryn Cave and its riches was a success.''


    Ardryn''s caravan had been on a treasure-hunting mission. That was why they''d been traveling on this road, and this cave was where they''d been headed before Stuart found them. Whatever was down there ¨C money, Artifacts, both ¨C was valuable enough to seek out as an organized group.


    Simon knew that heading inside would be a gamble. Even if nothing dangerous lurked within the walls of Caelryn Cave, it would be time spent where his body consumed vital energy. He wasn''t that hungry or thirsty yet, but that would change fast once his rations dwindled.


    He still only hesitated a moment before proceeding. His decision had already been made well before reaching the cave''s entrance.


    What do I need right here, right now? Simon recalled the question he''d asked himself yesterday. While Food and Shelter were his top priorities, Power wasn''t far behind. He wouldn''t last long in Valtia without it. Especially as a homeless, penniless outsider. Forget the Fell Beasts ¨C normal people on the street would walk all over him.


    Whatever prize resided underground could solve that problem in one fell swoop. If Caelryn Cave housed a strong battle-related Artifact, like the Glove but better, then he wouldn''t have to fear for his life anymore. He could defeat Fell Beasts for EXP, increase his Level over time, and raise himself into the champion Valtia needed.


    And if it housed riches in the traditional sense...then he could outright buy Artifacts. Or hire people to fight with him. Being wealthy was its own kind of superpower, really.


    Just one thing gave him pause. A message carved onto the outside of the cave, simply reading:


    ''TURN BACK.''


    Simon acknowledged the warning and promptly stepped inside.


    If Voice-In-The-Sky couldn''t convince him to exercise caution, then a vague, faded scribble certainly wasn''t going to cut it.


    --


    Caelryn Cave was an odd mixture of natural rock formations and man-made hallways. Whoever worked on it in the past had taken a pre-existing cave system and widened various segments so that people could traverse deeper.


    Apparently, that had been their sole purpose here. As Simon descended, he found zero evidence of mining for ore, temporary living quarters, leftover construction tools, or any signs of life at all. The workers had built Caelryn Cave just to go as far underground as possible. Then they''d put a solid metal gate at the entrance and warned others to stay away.


    Ardyn''s caravan hadn''t been wrong. Something was hidden below these dark, claustrophobic walls.


    The confirmation should have been encouraging. Instead, the further Simon went...the more he found himself beset by a growing sense of unease.


    It wasn''t that he disliked spelunking or felt concerned about losing his direction. The cave was a straight shot down with no branching pathways to get lost in. And it wasn''t that he thought a Fell Beast might pop out from around any given corner. In truth, thanks to the Warding Orbs at the entrance, he was probably safer here than outside.


    Yet an icy shiver was running up his spine. No matter how hard he tried to calm himself, he was plagued by a pervasive, ever-present feeling that he should not be here.


    Maybe it was because of all the skeletons.


    Arydn hadn''t been the first to try exploring Caelryn Cave. Not even close. After an hour of exploring, Simon had encountered no less than nine piles of human bones. Some alone, some in small groups.


    Every last one of them had died to traps left behind by whoever built this place. Wall arrows, spike pits, spring-loaded blades...


    Points for variety, I suppose.


    With each skeleton Simon found, he did two things. He would start by storing their ancient equipment inside Inventory. The metal was rusted, practically falling apart, but perhaps a blacksmith would be willing to purchase it as scrap.


    Once his looting was completed, he would then make sure to express his profound gratitude to the fallen adventurers. Partially for the extra supplies...


    But mostly for saving his life. Simon knew full well that being late to the party was the main reason he still lived. By setting off the traps beforehand, these brave, ill-fated souls had cleared the way for him to descend unimpeded.


    In some cases, they''d literally cleared the way for him. Several pathways appeared as if they''d once been blocked off. Likely due to the original builders detonating periodic cave-ins to prevent people from advancing.


    Whoever made Caelryn Cave REALLY didn''t want anyone finding what was at the bottom.


    Skeleton #12 was what made Simon finally stop and examine his actions. In the middle of relieving the corpse of its valuables, he glanced down, locked eyes with its empty sockets...and saw his own future reflected back at him.


    What in the world was he doing? Sooner or later, he would trip over a trap that hadn''t been set off yet. It was only a matter of time. He knew that ¨C but he''d been more focused on the prospect of reaching the grand prize at the end than ensuring he didn''t gore himself on a spike pit.


    It was almost like¨C


    Simon froze, a burst of realization halting his steps.


    The transmigrator hurriedly emptied himself of all thoughts. His mind became a blank canvas devoid of emotion.


    Seconds later, a notion came to him. It reminded him of the Sanctuary Tree''s calming aura ¨C except with a wholly different intent. Whereas the tree had offered rest and repose, this Notion prodded him along, encouraging him to dive ever deeper. It stood stark on his blank canvas, a stain of wriggling black amongst tranquil white.


    And it didn''t belong to him.


    This was why the cave had attracted so many doomed spelunkers. It subconsciously influenced them to ignore their better instincts. Anyone with a hint of self-preservation would have turned back at the first or second skeleton, but a dozen people and counting had pressed on, heedless of how they were throwing their lives away.


    Just like Simon.


    With a start, he noticed that the cave''s hallways were illuminated despite a lack of any visible light sources. As if the glow of an anglerfish was tempting him to approach. Why didn''t I catch that there were no torches or magic orbs or whatever? This is...


    He swiftly banished the invading Notion from his mind. It wasn''t difficult now that he knew what to look for. The influence wasn''t mind control ¨C merely a persistent whisper in his ear. Like a little devil on his shoulder, saying: What''s the worst that could happen?


    Simon took a seat on the uncomfortable stone floor, crossing his legs. Alright.


    Decision time.


    Caelryn Cave was contradictory. Built to hide something, yet with an aura that enticed people to delve further into its depths. The builders wouldn''t have put that Notion here, which indicated another entity was also at play. Probably still in the cave.


    It wants me to reach the bottom. But the builders didn''t. They hadn''t wanted anyone to reach the bottom ¨C including themselves. People squirreling away money or Artifacts wouldn''t have collapsed some of the pathways, making it significantly harder for them to retrieve their own possessions.


    ''Turn Back'', the message on the entrance had said.


    Simon recognized that he should do just that. He''d procured enough pieces of scrap to sell for meager startup funds, at least. The prudent choice would be to leave Caelryn Cave, locate the nearest town, and gradually find his footing in Valtia''s society. Take it slow and steady.


    He didn''t hesitate. Simon stood up, brushed off his pants, and started walking.


    Forward.


    There were methods to set off traps from a safe distance. They all seemed pressure-activated, so periodically tossing the skeletons ahead of him would work like a charm. With a bit of planning, discretion, and forethought, he should be able to beat the odds.


    Of course, beating the odds might not lead to riches or Artifacts. Yet even if this Cave''s treasure wasn''t what he''d initially expected...that didn''t mean he couldn''t turn it to his advantage. New ideas were already churning in Simon''s brain.


    It was with some amusement that he noted his anxiety had vanished. Now that his mind was set, there was no point in entertaining indecisiveness. Either he would discover something amazing and reap the rewards, or he would add to the cave''s extensive skeleton collection. Simple as that.


    The dice had been cast, and only time would reveal whether they landed on double sixes or snake eyes.


    A less self-aware person would have blamed the Notion for their recklessness. Simon knew better. He could tell when a decision came solely from himself.


    And the idea of turning back was utterly revolting to him.


    He hadn''t tricked a god into transmigrating him so he could go slow and steady.


    --


    Huh. A wry smile inched up Simon''s face. This must be what it''s like to win the lottery.


    Seventeen skeletons in total. Twice that many traps.


    Yet none set off by him. The previous adventurers had ''disarmed'' all of them.


    Simon was the lucky contestant who got to win the prize.


    The bottom of Caelryn Cave led to a thick metal wall barring his path ¨C a last line of defense. Time had been unkind to it as well, the once-sturdy material now rusted and brittle.


    Activate: Glove of Minor Strength. Muscles straining, he managed to break open a hole without too much effort. It was easier than anticipated. As if something besides the passage of time had also been relentlessly chipping away at the wall.


    Yeah. Simon had a decent idea of what awaited him in the next room beyond. He breathed in, composing himself and stifling his nerves.


    First impressions were important.


    The metal let out a tortured creak as he shoved it aside. Simon squeezed through the opening¨C


    Then immediately stopped short at what he saw.


    A wide, hundred-foot cavern stretched out before him. In its center was a cylindrical cage of light that rose up to the ceiling. And in the center of that...


    An inferno of pitch-blackness. Darker than the void of space. Hot yet cold, powerful yet weak, alive yet dead. The paradox of existence constrained into a form of heat and malice. Deep in the marrow of his bones, something primal told Simon that these were flames that could reduce a world to ashes.


    Inside its cage of light, the inferno began to stir.


    "My, my. An auspicious day indeed." Melodic laughter echoed outwards, prickling Simon''s skin like a thousand jabbing needles. "Come sit, why don''t you? It''s been quite some time since I''ve had company...and we have much to discuss."


    Almost by reflex, he cast Identify.


    Searing pain exploded behind his eyes. It was so intense and all-consuming that he momentarily blacked out ¨C fortunately sparing him from further agony. The sensation was blindingly quick and abrupt, like a gunshot barreling through his skull.


    Then, just as quickly, it subsided. His sight returned. A system window was hovering in front of him.


    Name: Sealed Demon of Ruination


    Description: They told you to turn back.


    Estimated Level: 89


    No surprise there.


    "Don''t mind if I do." Nodding, Simon casually strode forward, forcing his expression to remain impassive. It wasn''t wise to show your full emotions during negotiations, and right now, his body was absolutely flooded with an electrifying blend of fear and adrenaline.


    This room was danger. This room was death.


    This room was opportunity.

 Chapter 3

    It took around ten seconds for Simon to approach. In that time, he covertly examined the cavern with Identify, searching for anything that could give him an edge.


    All he found of note were hundreds of Warding Orbs surrounding the Sealed Demon''s cage of light. Each was placed on the cage''s border, and each had merely one year remaining before its energy was depleted ¨C same as the Orbs guarding Caelryn Cave''s entrance.


    Crucial information, to be sure...but probably not something he should tell the Demon. Either it was aware of the time limit on its prison, or it wasn''t, and thus had no idea of how much longer it would be trapped. If so, better to say nothing and leave it ignorant and potentially desperate.


    Which unfortunately left Simon with little to work with. While knowledge of the Orbs'' inevitable failure might become imperative in the future, it wouldn''t be particularly useful during the negotiations to come.


    I''ll just have to improvise.


    Simon made it halfway across the cavern, then stopped. Any nearer and the heat radiating from the Demon''s inferno would''ve caused him to sweat buckets.


    Its overwhelming aura of power was close to doing that already. If the Sanctuary Tree had been an entity of rest and repose, then this Demon was the opposite. Oppressive, dominating, and pitiless. Anyone entering this cavern wouldn''t have needed Identify to realize that they had stumbled across the lair of a merciless tyrant.


    Empty posturing. Nothing you haven''t seen before.


    Simon forcefully shrugged off the aura''s effect. With a casual motion, he sat down and produced a cracked cup from his Inventory ¨C spare junk that he''d picked up from Ardyn''s caravan. "To first meetings and new beginnings," he called out, raising his cup in a toast.


    The Demon''s flames seemed to freeze momentarily. Low laughter emanated from within its cage, triggering Simon''s flight-or-flight response as if a gun was pointed directly at his forehead.


    "To first meetings and new beginnings," echoed a distorted, sonorous voice. A tendril of fire stretched forward, taking on the silhouette of a hand holding an ornate goblet.


    Grinning, Simon ''clinked'' his cup against the air, then stowed it back in Inventory. "You want to kick off the proceedings?" he offered. "I''m sure you''ve got a lot you want to say."


    The inferno blazed with frustrated mirth. "Quite the understatement there. After a century or two of confinement, you start losing hope of ever again conversing with another living creature. No matter what comes of this talk of ours, I am truly grateful for your presence here."


    It didn''t appear to be lying. That still didn''t mean it wasn''t manipulating Simon so that he viewed the Demon in a favorable light. The best lies were told through truth.


    He also detected an undercurrent of anguish to its tone that it couldn''t fully hide. The Demon was in pain. Constant, neverending pain. Simon would''ve bet good money on the cage of Warding Orbs being the cause.


    "Before we proceed ¨C I must address a possible concern of yours. This is likely your first encounter with a Demon, which means your thoughts are rife with misinformation and paranoia. The weightiness of our aura can feel...stifling. However, rest assured that the untoward rumors of my kind have been greatly exaggerated."


    The flames lowered in temperature by just a few degrees, as if trying to appear benign while still projecting an intimidating atmosphere. "For example, do not conflate Demons with the feral, mindless Fell Beasts you have witnessed thus far. To do so would be the highest of insults. You may as well compare humans with the primeval apes of the Lost Frontier."


    It opted for a vaguely encouraging tone. "And you needn''t worry about unwittingly entering into a Contract. It shall be very, very apparent when one is presented to you. The magic only becomes binding when both parties willingly agree to its terms. Lastly, whether or not you accept my Contract will be wholly your decision."


    Based on the Demon''s inflection, Simon could tell that ''Contract'' was being spoken with a capital ''c''. There was powerful meaning contained in that word.


    A magical binding contract wasn''t a concept he was unfamiliar with. He could guess at the broad strokes and implications. Until the Demon explained it in greater detail, though, anything else he imagined would be no more than conjecture.


    Whole conversation is going to be like this, Simon mused. Lots of terms being thrown around that I''ll have to figure out through context clues.


    It wasn''t all bad. He''d been wanting someone to tell him more about Valtia. Would make negotiating slightly more difficult, but, well...


    Fake it ''till you make it.


    "Thanks for the assurance," Simon replied, his mouth spreading into a genial smile. "That''s how I like to do things. Fair and equitable on both sides."


    "I think I like you already. You''re definitely more personable than the last humans who graced my presence, at any rate."


    For a Level 89 Demon of Ruination, a terrifying conflagration of vast power, who had presumably run amok during his heydey...its manner of speaking seemed awfully informal. Was that typical of people here, or was the creature altering its verbiage in order to appeal to a human''s sensibilities?


    With a hint of amusement, Simon realized that this was going to set his baseline for talking to denizens of Valtia. Whoever he met next would have big shoes to fill.


    "A little politeness goes a long way. Why start off a conversation with insults or disrespect?" Simon beamed. "When you insult someone, it should be after you get to know them. Then it''ll be laser-targeted. It''ll hurt."


    The Demon ''nodded'', its flames gyrating up and down. "Although certainly enjoyable, grinding someone underfoot using raw power is...rote. Perfunctory. Annihilating their existence with but a single sentence? That requires planning, preparation, and panache. Agonizing truths are the implements wielded by those of wit and refinement."


    Its flames shaped into an arm, which it swept across an approximation of its chest. "Before I forget ¨C my congratulations on making it to the bottom of this godforsaken cave. Your arrival here is most serendipitous."


    Simon''s mouth twitched. Serendipitous? he thought. Not really. Nothing about this meeting was an accident. You were responsible for half of it.


    The gods of Evil were responsible for the rest.


    It wasn''t a coincidence that Simon had transmigrated into a member of Ardyn''s doomed caravan. The Evil gods'' intentions had primarily been to have him inherit the power of a weakling rather than a champion...but they could''ve picked any random schlub who''d recently croaked for that.


    Instead, they chose someone who had perished suspiciously close to Caelryn Cave. Yes, Simon was then likely to die at Stuart''s fangs, but if he lived? Well, he would probably follow the road. Find the cave. Be affected by the Demon''s subconscious persuasion.


    Reach the bottom.


    The gods of Evil had wanted this meeting. So did the Demon. Simon was being manipulated by not one, but two malicious higher powers.


    Defying their expectations would be immensely gratifying.


    "Serendipitous?" Simon tilted his head. "Was I wrong about your subtle mind magic, then?"


    The inferno flared with surprise ¨C before settling into a sort of smug satisfaction. "How did you like it? Few can exercise control of mana to that degree of distance and power, especially when weakened as I am now. The subconscious suggestion within this cave isn''t even my proudest feat. I''ve lured many an adventurer by transmitting dreams of plunder and riches to the humans at nearby settlements."


    Its excitement simmered. "But...you knew it was a lie? And you ventured here nonetheless."


    "Yup."


    Uproarious laughter resounded from the demonic flames. "I shall amend a previous statement ¨C I *know* I like you."


    "Same to you," Simon affirmed. Which wouldn''t change his plans, but it seemed a likable enough fellow...aside from all the adventurers it had indirectly murdered. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"


    "Someone who once controlled half the Severed Isles of Valtia." The Demon''s voice filled with interest. "Tell me. Do any of these names sound familiar to you? Kirkelas the Conqueror? Ragnoth the Everlasting Flame? Or perhaps simply ''The Demon of Ruination''?"


    After a brief moment of consideration, Simon decided that this talk would go more smoothly if he admitted ignorance about certain topics. Based on the Demon''s tone, it wasn''t expecting much here. "Can''t say I''ve heard of those names."


    "Of course." The flames intensified with heat and fury. "May the Ancient One take Duke Helmund and his festering, maggot-ridden soul. He must have suppressed any knowledge of me after my sealing. Several generations later, and I am no more spoken of than a common footpad."


    It sighed. "So be it. Does Helmund still rule the Severed Isles?"


    Simon didn''t have a clue, but this time the Demon did seem to be expecting confirmation, even though this Duke Helmund had apparently sealed him centuries ago. "Yeah, he''s still alive. Hasn''t kicked the bucket just yet."


    He scratched his chin, feigning thought. "Gotta say ¨C it''s odd to hear that the Duke was responsible for sealing you. Don''t nobles usually take any chance they can get to bolster their reputation? Why would he erase his part in a tale of heroism?"


    "Heroism, you say." The inferno waved from side to side, as if shaking its head. "Is it truly heroism if your only goal is to eliminate your competitors? Helmund has no love for his subjects ¨C or anyone but himself. The Severed Isles would be in a better state if I had remained as a balancing act to his tyranny."


    "I''m sure you were a just, magnanimous ruler," Simon remarked, with a dry deadpan.


    "Not in the slightest. But I''ve caught glimpses of the world outside these cavern walls, and I would *never* have let the Severed Isles degrade so harshly. There is no point in reigning over a desiccated graveyard."


    The Demon''s voice took on a passionate edge. "This cannot stand. Helmund must be brought to heel ¨C and soon, before he can drain these lands even further. If you release me from this prison, then I swear I shall do everything in my power to see the Duke laid low and the Severed Isles restored to their former liveliness. We can establish a Contract if you require that kind of guarantee."


    Simon placed his chin on his hands and lifted a single eyebrow. "Come on now. You didn''t think it would be that easy, did you?


    The inferno chuckled. "No, but it was worth the attempt. You would be shocked at how many humans leap at the first opportunity to partake in impetuous heroics."


    "...I may be familiar with the concept," Simon replied, swallowing an innocent whistle before it could escape his throat.


    Without warning, the Demon drew itself up, magnifying its flames so that they reached the ceiling of its cage. "Human. What is your name?"


    Simon leisurely stood up. He didn''t bother with theatrics, opting to just be himself. "Simon."


    "Surname?"


    "Cobblestone," he answered, adopting Ardyn''s last name. It was Valtia-approved and sounded suitably nonthreatening, which would hopefully make the Demon underestimate him.


    "Well met, Simon Cobblestone." The flames swirled and churned like an oven of anticipation. When the Demon spoke next, its voice echoed with immeasurable gravitas. "Then I ask you this, oh strange human: What do you desire most?"


    He had to admit ¨C the demonic fireworks display was pretty neat. To a Valtian native with medieval sensibilities, it would''ve probably been the most awe-inspiring sight they''d ever witnessed.


    But to Simon, who''d grown up on high-budget Hollywood CGI-fests...he knew when something was just smoke and mirrors. Cool smoke and mirrors, yet smoke and mirrors nonetheless.


    It would take more than this to impress him.


    "I''ll answer your question with one of mine," Simon replied. "What do you think I desire most?"


    The Demon''s flames subsided by a hair. "You want me to choose your boon for you?"


    "Nah ¨C just want to hear what your guess would be. Indulge my curiosity."


    He didn''t actually care what the Demon thought, but responding nonchalantly to its bravado gave the creature pause. It had evidently wanted to cow him into submission, or at least make him nervous enough to offer a quick, poorly-considered deal. Instead, Simon had reminded it of one very important detail.


    As long as the Demon stayed locked within its cage of light, it wasn''t the one with leverage here.


    "...A human such as you?" The inferno leaned forward, scrutinizing him. "Your type only wants one thing: Power. Power to influence the world. Power to bend others to your will. Power to mold your destiny."


    Simon clapped. "Not bad. You''ve met people like me throughout the years?"


    "Similar. Albeit none that have stared me in the eyes without flinching."


    "What eyes?"


    The Demon hesitated. After a few seconds, two blood-red shapes appeared in the center of its flames. Something about them provoked an instinctual fear response in Simon''s hindbrain ¨C none of which he let show on his face.


    "And yet you still don''t flinch. Strange."


    Sorry, Simon thought, but the Red-Eyed Fell Beast was scarier than you. "I''ll be forthright with my intentions. I want multiple boons. The first is power, just like you said."


    He put on a beatific smile. "One-third of it."


    "A...third?" The inferno shrank, its voice replete with astonishment. "A third of what? Of ME?"


    "Correct." Simon kept his tone neutral. "I can''t just ask ''for power''. Too vague. You could''ve given me a drop of it and nothing more. One-third is nice and clear."


    He perked up, as if just realizing something. "Oh, and I''m not interested in getting loophole''d by obtuse demon logic. You''ll give me your power in a way that doesn''t cause harm. If there are any complications with the transfer, you''ll assist me, beneficially, to the absolute best of your ability. And you''re giving it to me before I free you."


    The Demon''s aura pulsed with a wave of pure outrage. "Do you have any idea the magnitude of what you ask for?"


    Simon nodded. "Obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn''t have asked for it." He shrugged. "You''d still be stronger than me, so it''s not like I''m trying to usurp you."


    For once, the Demon was speechless.


    "That''s Boon #1." Simon held up one finger ¨C and then a second. "Boon #2 is...well, less a boon and more of a stipulation. You won''t harm me, directly or indirectly, physically or mentally, in any way, ever. That includes taking actions that would weaken me. Gaining one-third of your power would be pointless if you murder me and steal it back right away."


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    "That would all but shackle me to your will," the Demon hissed.


    "Then we''ll add another stipulation stating that Boon #2 is annulled if I conspire against you, or if I purposefully cause you physical harm. That more fair?"


    "To an extent ¨C wait, no, you can''t¨C"


    "Boon #3." Simon raised another finger. "I''ll be your second-in-command when you start conquering again. It''ll be a permanent position. Not interested in carving out my own territory; I''d prefer to hitch myself to the winning horse."


    His smile morphed from cordial to vicious. "Trust me. You''ll love having me as an ally."


    The flames glared at him with muted disbelief. "No self-respecting Demon would remotely entertain a Contract so lopsided."


    "That''s where you''re wrong. It isn''t lopsided at all. Because in return?"


    His voice fell to a conspiratorial whisper, like he was imparting a grand secret. "You''ll go free."


    Simon gestured around at the empty cavern. "As someone who''s been stuck here for hundreds of years...do you really want to go back to that? Losing track of time until the decades blend together? Counting cracks in the wall to alleviate your ennui? Endlessly hoping and praying that a human will find you? The boredom, the isolation¨C"


    "ENOUGH!"


    Simon fought to retain his balance as the inferno exploded, sending a hot wave of air gusting through the room. If he had been standing next to the demon at the time, he would''ve been crispy-fried in an instant.


    "YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU TRIFLE WITH, HUMAN!" The Demon''s voice was like a steel fist beating at Simon''s eardrums. "DO YOU BELIEVE THAT I AM POWERLESS? THAT I CANNOT HARM YOU AS I AM?"


    A magnificent show of force. Unfortunately for the Demon, the effect was ruined by the Warding Orbs forming its cage. They still hadn''t budged an inch, and they still didn''t have a scratch on them.


    Even now, this was merely posturing.


    "You can probably hurt me." With effort, Simon pushed his lips up into another smile. "But there''s a cost, right? Something you aren''t willing to pay. Wouldn''t have bothered with proposing a Contract otherwise."


    With a disappointed sigh, his smile vanished. "If my offer isn''t to your liking, though..."


    He peered back at the cavern entrance, as if debating whether or not to leave right then and there.


    The Demon was too late to stifle a horrified gasp.


    Simon didn''t even attempt to hide his smirk. He faced the inferno once more, spreading his arms wide with the brash audacity of a con artist who knew they were being unfair, knew that their scam was blatantly transparent ¨C and knew that they''d won anyway.


    "Three boons for your freedom. What''s it gonna be?"


    There was a long pause.


    Eventually, the flames let out a lengthy, drawn-out groan. "Simon Cobblestone...are you a Demon in disguise?"


    "Not since the last time I checked. Why do you ask?"


    "Because this bargain is fitting of one."


    The transmigrator took a bow. "Thanks for the compliment."


    A spike of begrudging respect flared up. The Demon may have hated him in this moment, but game recognized game.


    Simon was about to continue speaking when a swell of demonic magic froze his throat shut. Frenzied muttering swirled at the edges of his hearing as mana concentrated near the Demon.


    One-by-one, blackened words began to appear mid-air, slowly, as if scrawled by an unsteady hand.


    1. The Demon forging this Contract is known as Kirkelas the Conqueror, also known as Ragnoth the Everlasting Flame, also known as The Demon of Ruination. The human Contractee is known as Simon Cobblestone. Kirkelas is the Demon currently residing in a prison of sacred mana, within Simon''s eyesight. Simon Cobblestone is the human standing before Kirkelas. There is no deception of identity on the part of either signer.


    2. Kirkelas will permanently bequeath one-third of his mana to Simon Cobblestone. This will be done so in a way that does not harm Simon Cobblestone, and shall increase his power accordingly. If there are complications with the mana transfer, Kirkelas will beneficially assist to the absolute best of his abilities.


    3. Additionally, Kirkelas the Conqueror will never harm Simon Cobblestone, directly or indirectly, physically or mentally, in any way. That includes taking actions that would weaken Simon Cobblestone.


    4. As an addendum, the previous stipulation is voided if Simon Cobblestone conspires against Kirkelas the Conqueror or purposefully causes him physical harm.


    5. Additionally, Kirkelas the Conqueror will also appoint Simon Cobblestone to a position as his second-in-command. This position is permanent.


    6. In exchange, Simon will fully free Kirkelas from his prison of sacred mana.


    "There." The Demon ¨C Kirkelas ¨C was breathing heavily, sounding exhausted. "A Contract. Do you...do you accept?"


    Simon betrayed no emotion as he nodded. "Yes. I do. Should I sign in blood, or¨C"


    "Your agreement is sufficient." Kirkelas composed himself. "Then I also¨C"


    He stopped.


    "One moment." Demonic mana flared again. When Kirkelas was finished, a single word had been appended to the end of the Contract.


    6. In exchange, Simon will fully free Kirkelas from his prison of sacred mana immediately.


    "Fair and equitable. Just as you like."


    Simon''s face remained impassive ¨C in contrast to the whirlwind of frustration brewing inside his mind.


    I was so close.


    When entering Caelryn Cave, he''d known that he needed to acquire Power. It was just under Food and Shelter in terms of significance. Thus, upon discovering a monstrously strong Demon in a position of vulnerability, Simon had pondered:


    How could he defraud the creature for everything it was worth?


    His plan had been a blend of deduction and improvisation. He determined that the Demon would likely be desperate to bargain for its freedom. He determined that its binding magical Contracts could be used to his advantage. He determined that asking for one-third of its power would be the most he could push for while still closing the deal.


    Most importantly, he determined that it wasn''t at the top of its game. A supreme, ancient Demon with lifetimes of experience would''ve normally taken him for a ride when it came to negotiating. But after centuries of imprisonment? Weakened by hundreds of Warding Orbs that inflicted perpetual suffering?


    He had hoped that he could bully it into a bad Contract before it realized the fatal loophole therein.


    Simon never promised that he would free the Demon right away. The plan had been to get around to it...eventually. Who''s to say when? Their Contract certainly didn''t.


    The best lies were told through truth.


    If he kept procrastinating, he could''ve gone a whole year without needing to fulfill his side of the deal. Kirkelas would''ve been forced to transfer one-third of its mana ¨C yet receive nothing in return. Using its stolen power, Simon would have easily established his position in Valtian society, granting himself more opportunities to Level up.


    And when he was strong enough, before the Warding Orbs ran out of juice...he would''ve returned and shanked the Demon while it was still trapped and weakened.


    Except that Kirkelas had spotted the problem mere moments away from sealing his own fate.


    So painfully close.


    The Demon drew itself up. "Do you accept this revised Contract?"


    "No."


    "Then I also ¨C WHAT?"


    Simon turned around and started walking away. "No deal." He lazily waved his hand once. "Bye."


    Actually freeing Kirkelas had never been in the cards. He wasn''t going to release a creature literally called ''the Demon of Ruination''. That sort of behavior was for people who aspired to no better than second-in-command to a bloodthirsty tyrant.


    Which had been a lie as well, naturally. Simon would never settle for being an underling. He had standards.


    There was still the matter of reversing Valtia''s evident decline. But even if Kirkelas was being completely truthful and intended to fight against the despotic Duke Helmund, maybe saving the Severed Isles in the process...


    Freeing it was what the gods of Evil had wanted Simon to do.


    That was reason enough not to.


    Shame that this trip ended up mostly being a waste of time, but it was worth rolling the dice on. As Kirkelas shouted at him, Simon''s mood brightened. At least I picked up some scrap metal from the skeleton crew. Consolation prize! Plan B is still doable ¨C sell the scrap for pocket change, work my way up the social ladder. Will take longer than I wanted, but¨C


    "FOUL, INSIGNIFICANT MORTAL!"


    The scream was so loud that it made Simon glance back. His eyes widened when he saw demonic energy gathering where the Contract had once been. It collapsed onto itself, solidifying into a dense, sharpened point, its aura rolling across the cavern with a surge of mana.


    "SHORTSIGHTED. PETULANT. UNGRATEFUL. THIS WAS A BARGAIN OTHERS WOULD HAVE SLAUGHTERED FAMILY FOR. YOU COULD HAVE BEHELD WONDERS THAT ONLY A HANDFUL OF HUMANS AND DEMONS SHALL EVER EXPERIENCE. YOU COULD HAVE CONQUERED AT MY SIDE. BUT NOW..."


    Simon''s body flooded with adrenaline, instinctively knowing what was about to happen.


    "YOU WILL SERVE."


    The demonic mana shot forth. Sharp as a needle, it struggled, fought ¨C before barely piercing through the Warding Orbs'' cage of light. The cage fixed itself an instant later, already repaired.


    Which did little to help Simon as the mana raced towards him, fast as a bullet.


    He dodged at the last second. It was a good dodge; well-timed, and more than could be expected from a Level 2 Fledgling with almost no combat experience.


    The mana needle didn''t care. It simply did an abrupt U-turn and plunged straight into Simon''s right hand.


    Pain. All-consuming pain. Like hot magma coursing through his arm. The rest of him just felt sick, close to vomiting, violently ill. His fingernails rapidly turned black, then his fingers, then his entire upper arm.


    Simon couldn''t think. His next action was purely automatic.


    Good thing, then, that he''d watched Evil Dead 2 just a week prior. He didn''t hesitate before summoning his sharpest half-broken sword from Inventory, activating the Glove of Minor Power¨C


    And severing his right arm at its bicep.


    The corrupted appendage fell to the ground with a wet, nauseating plop.


    "YOU...YOU!" Kirkelas screeched with shock and dismay. "HAVE YOU TAKEN LEAVE OF YOUR SENSES?! WHAT TYPE OF MAN MUTILATES HIMSELF WITHOUT SO MUCH AS AN IOTA OF HESITATION?!"


    Simon was in too much pain to speak, but he would''ve replied with confusion regardless. Why the surprise? One arm was a small price to pay for not being demon-possessed or whatever Kirkelas had tried to do to him. He would''ve lopped it off even without Transmigrator''s Body healing him to full after a good night''s sleep.


    Belatedly, Simon noticed that he''d missed a spot. The demonic mana had spread up his arm so quickly that a sliver of it was still attached at the end of his stump.


    Just when he was about to take a bit more off the top, the mana resonated with savage intent. It attacked his psyche, attempting to take control from within. Just a fragment of it remained, but that might have been enough to subsume the mind of a normal person.


    Simon''s will crushed it like stepping on an ant.


    Alert: System Integration has activated!


    Demonic Essence has been assimilated and converted!


    Attribute Gained: Fell-Touched!


    Skill Gained: Demonic Shapeshift [Right Arm]!


    Skill Gained: Fell Harvest!


    Skill Gained: Subjugate Territory!


    New options for Class Advancement will be available at Level 13!


    The pain vanished.


    Everything was silent. Neither Simon nor Kirkelas spoke.


    Both watched in awe as his right arm swiftly regrew.


    When it was finally whole again, it looked...different. The limb was now covered with silver-black scales instead of skin. It seemed sturdy, tougher than leather yet growing naturally out of his body. And in place of fingernails, he had five razor-edged talons, each one sharp as a dagger.


    With his left hand, Simon gently prodded at what was apparently a Demon arm. He felt the sensation of being poked. The arm did, in fact, belong to him.


    Hmm. Can I...


    Simon activated ''Demonic Shapeshift'' as if it was any other Skill. Immediately, the appendage shifted to a regular human arm with soft skin. Like nothing had changed at all.


    "What?" Kirkelas spouted.


    "What?" Simon agreed. Out of all his guesses, assumptions, and predictions for what would transpire in Caelryn Cave, this had not been one of them.


    "You..." The Demon''s inferno faded down to a sputtering campfire. "I don''t understand. How did you do that?"


    Kirkelas'' voice was frail. Its previous stunt had expended much of its energy.


    Alert: Heroic Valor''s bonus activated!


    For weakening the Sealed Demon of Ruination ¨C albeit temporarily ¨C you have received bonus EXP!


    Your Level has increased!


    Level: 2 ¡ú 3


    Four unspent stat points added to the pool! Allocate them at will!


    Simon read the system notifications, his heart soaring with that exhilarating sensation of progress. Gleefully, he activated Shapeshift again. The arm turned Demonic. Shapeshift. Back to human form.


    "I rolled the dice by coming here." He grinned. "And what do you know? Double sixes."


    "That. Answers. NOTHING!"


    "No worries. You''ll have plenty of alone time to think it over."


    Simon resumed his walk towards the cavern exit. Kirkelas could do little but rant and rave. The only weapons left to him were his ephemeral lungs ¨C which he used to great effect, spewing forth a string of expletives that would''ve made a sailor blush. He insulted Simon''s mother, face, lineage, sense of style, and everything else he could think of.


    The Demon''s diatribe went in one ear and out the other. Simon saw no reason to listen to him anymore. The Fell-Touched human was too busy Shapeshifting his arm back and forth like it was a new toy.


    He hadn''t gotten everything he''d wanted out of Caelryn Cave...but this? This had potential.


    Upon at last reaching the exit, Simon stopped with the broken door just inches away. It wasn''t the Demon''s parade of colorful language that made him hesitate. Rather, some small, lingering notion was nagging at him. What had¨C


    Ah, right. He nodded to himself, remembering that there was still one thing left to do.


    It would be rude not to say his farewells to someone who''d given him such a thoughtful gift.


    "Goodbye, Kirkelas." He sent the Demon a cheerful wave. "When you next see me, it''ll be because I''m about to kill you."

 Chapter 4.1

    Simon greeted another skeleton as he made his way back up through Caelryn Cave. The long trek was far more enjoyable in reverse. No worry of traps, no mounting pressure, and he got to pass the time by experimenting with his ill-gotten gains.


    Character Sheet.


    Simon


    Class: Fledgling


    Attributes: Transmigrator, Fell-Touched


    Level: 3


    HP: 90 / 90


    MP: 50 / 50


    Strength: 15


    Dexterity: 9


    Vitality: 9


    Intelligence: 5


    Unspent Points: 4


    Two new lines had been added. The first was Attributes, displaying his status as a Transmigrator, and as a human who was now Fell-Touched. The second was Unspent Points, denoting the stat points he''d earned from reaching Level 3.


    Stat points that hadn''t been automatically allocated like the ones from Level 2. Simon couldn''t be certain of exactly why, yet if he had to guess...Heroic Valor was the cause.


    I haven''t fought anything since Stuart. Which means I made it to Level 3 solely by receiving bonus EXP from Heroic Valor''s effect. It was entirely responsible.


    He drummed his fingers on his thigh as he walked. My first Level-up gave me 3 Strength and 1 Dexterity. It happened as a direct result of killing Stuart. And I killed him in a quick ambush, where I lifted him using a boost from the Glove of Power.


    During ''normal'' Level-ups ¨C where EXP was gained from slaughter ¨C the system probably assigned his points based on his recent life experiences. After all, it was a system designed to expedite growth using RPG mechanics as a framework. Stuart had been slain by feats of Strength with a dash of Dexterity, so those stats got the bump.


    Heroic Valor complicated matters. The system wouldn''t know how to assign his stats based on EXP gained from nebulous deeds of valor. Weakening the Demon of Ruination hadn''t been a feat of Strength, Dexterity, or Vitality. Intelligence was the closest, but if the stat truly was just a catch-all term for Simon''s proficiency with magic, then it didn''t fit either.


    So the system had done what any self-respecting administrator did when faced with a roadblock...and passed the buck to someone lower down the chain. Simon could distribute his Level 3 stat points whichever way he pleased.


    A part of him wanted to believe that this was an intentional design choice on behalf of the gods of Good. It made sense when viewed from a top-down perspective. If a champion raised their Level through killing, then their stats would largely be decided for him.


    But if they instead gained Experience through heroic deeds, then they could mold themselves into any kind of fighter they desired. It incentivized the gods'' chosen champion to conduct themselves like a hero ¨C as opposed to an aimless murderhobo.


    However, Simon had met enough project managers to know better. The stat point flexibility from Heroic Valor was likely an unintended side effect. Something about it just screamed ''It''s not a bug, it''s a feature!'' to him.


    That wasn''t a bad thing. Abusing exploits was a tried-and-true method of getting stronger in RPGs.


    Now for the million dollar question. He gazed at his Character Sheet once more. How should I spend my stats? What will help me survive?


    It depended heavily on the next type of enemy he encountered. Maybe he would have to overpower something, or outrun something, or need the durability to endure just one solid hit. Strength, Dexterity, and Vitality were all crucial for different reasons.


    Intelligence less so, but that might rapidly become his most important stat if he learned magic one day. Neglecting it now felt like an easy way to screw himself in the long run. Shoving more points into Intelligence might even be what triggered his genesis as a Valtian sorcerer...although he wasn''t willing to test that particular theory. Too much risk of wasted resources.


    After much deliberation, he opted to heroically pass the buck to future-Simon. He was a smart guy. He would figure it out.


    Moving on, present-Simon went further down his Character Sheet, scrolling past the lists of Traits, Active Skills, and Passive Skills. A section had been inserted at the bottom: <u>Demonic Skills</u>, complete with three completely new abilities.


    His mouth split into a wide grin. Stat points may have been the backbone of his power, but Skills represented options. It was enough to send his adventurer''s heart aflutter.


    Demonic Shapeshift [Right Arm] (Rank MAX)


    -Your right arm now houses Fell power, which can be unleashed by assuming its true form. When this arm is Shapeshifted, your latent Demonic Skills become usable. Shapeshifting may be performed at will and costs no MP.


    For the umpteenth time, Simon watched as his human arm morphed to a limb of demonic savagery. Silver-black scales. Wicked talons as sharp as daggers. Even the arm''s muscles felt stronger, as if benefiting from a diluted Glove of Power.


    It was amazing.


    It was also something he should never show another human. Kirkelas'' words still rang clear in his mind.


    ''This is likely your first encounter with a Demon, which means your mind is rife with misinformation and paranoia. The weightiness of our aura can feel...stifling. However, rest assured that the untoward rumors of my kind have been greatly exaggerated.''


    People in Valtia weren''t fans of demons. Shocker.


    Simon doubted that they''d cut him any slack if they saw his Shapeshifted arm. His excuses of only being Fell-Touched would fall on deaf ears. Then it was straight to the angry mob wielding torches and pitchforks.


    And looking at his other two Demonic Skills...he wouldn''t have blamed them.


    Fell Harvest (Rank 1)


    -When holding a person or creature in your Shapeshifted Arm''s clutches, you may drain their life force. Draining them to the point of death will increase a chosen stat by 1 point.


    -As this ability evolves, more stat points shall be gained per death-drain.


    Simon intended to use Fell Harvest every chance he got. Four drains was equal to a whole Level, and that was just at Rank 1. It would significantly hasten his long-term growth; he couldn''t have asked for a more advantageous Skill to acquire early on.


    ...Yet it probably wasn''t the wisest Skill to employ around other humans. They wouldn''t take kindly to seeing a ''Demon'' suck the life out of creatures, even if he exclusively used it on mindless Beasts.


    Although he imagined that Fell Harvest would still be better-received than his third Demonic Skill.


    Subjugate Territory (Rank 1)


    -A unique demonic ability gained by subsuming mana from Kirkelas the Conqueror. If the established leader or governing body of a village, town, city, or any similar settlement yields authority to you, then you are granted dominion of the aforementioned area.


    -Native residents of this area will feel partially compelled to follow your orders. This authority cannot be revoked except by your death, or after one hundred years have passed without a renewal of authority.


    -Subjugate Territory''s Rank may increase after a successful subjugation. As this ability evolves, more benefits shall be gained.


    The Demon''s title wasn''t for show. He''d actually gotten stronger from conquering.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Simon listened carefully. By now, he was far away from the bottom of Caelryn Cave. But if he strained his ears...he could barely hear the sound of Kirkelas wishing a virulent pox upon his family and household.


    It brought another smile to his face. Two days in Valtia, and I''m already making new friends.


    Unfortunately, he didn''t think he was going to get much mileage out of Subjugate Territory. Not in the short term. He wouldn''t be opposed to, say, unseating a dictator and usurping their capital city, but using the Skill on random settlements just struggling to get by would make him no better than the Conqueror himself.


    Simon had a few too many morals for that. Besides ¨C pragmatically speaking, conquering places like an evil overlord wouldn''t earn him any bonus EXP from Heroic Valor.


    ...Unless there was an ethical way to subjugate a town...


    He''d think on that later. At the moment, he was faced with another decision.


    The entrance to Caelryn Cave lay in front of him. Early afternoon sunlight was streaming through the opening, banishing darkness with rays of soothing radiance. The light was like one of Grace''s hugs after a rough day, inviting him to step forward and leave the cave''s dismal halls behind. Especially since Kirkelas would eventually settle down, regenerate his power, and begin devising a revenge plan against the upstart human who''d wronged him.


    But while Caelryn Cave was no Sanctuary Tree, its entrance was guarded by a pair of Warding Orbs. In here, he was safe from the Red-Eyed Fell Beast. Hopefully.


    Outside? Who knew. It could be inches away at any time. Lurking just out of sight...until the very instant it chose to strike.


    Inevitably, the worsening dryness in his throat pushed Simon onward. He couldn''t stay here. Not when there were only several days of drinkable water left in Inventory. Before he found a renewable source of nourishment, no place was truly ''safe''.


    Risking your life in the present was always preferable to a guaranteed death in the future.


    Red-Eyes is still going to ambush me when I least expect it, though. If so...


    Simon stepped outside Caelryn Cave. The Warding Orbs tingled uncomfortably as he strode by them. Curious; they hadn''t felt like that when he first entered. The change was almost certainly related to his newly-acquired status as a Fell-Touched Human.


    Thankfully, the sensation was easily ignored ¨C and in this case, knowing the Orbs'' exact range was useful. Simon kept walking, continuing on for roughly ten feet until he could no longer feel the Warding Orbs'' stinging aura. He gave it another couple feet for good measure, stopping at the end of the large stone structure attached to Caelryn Cave''s entrance.


    "Been a long day." The weary transmigrator stretched and sighed, leaning back against the stone structure. "Couldn''t hurt to take a breather."


    Simon relaxed everything except his mind. Then, with nary a hint of concern displayed on his expression...


    He closed his eyes.


    Don''t trust your ears. Don''t trust your instincts. They didn''t help you last time it snuck up on you.


    Just remember Kirkelas. Envision the cavern of danger and death. Crystallize what that atmosphere felt like, reduce it to a smaller scale, and¨C


    There. Like a tiny blip on a radar.


    Demonic aura.


    Simon was already leaping sideways before he''d even finished opening his eyes. Twin scythes bisected the air where he had been standing, carving deep scratches into the side of the cave''s stone structure. He swiftly backed up, retreating to the Warding Orbs'' aura of protection.


    A satisfied smile adorned his features. "Took the bait."


    Four crimson eyes turned to glare at him. The light of day did nothing to make the Fell Beast more visible ¨C its body was still fully shrouded in concealing fog. Simon observed the Beast as it retracted its scythe-limbs, the menacing blades of steel disappearing as if they''d faded from existence.


    Relief flowed through him when the creature stayed where it was. As long as he was near the cave entrance, it couldn''t approach him. The Warding Orbs had granted him a reprieve.


    He intended to use it wisely. Identify.


    Name: Red-Eyed Hunter


    Description: A patient Fell Beast that endlessly stalks its prey. Exists in a permanent state of invisibility and intangibility. Can bring itself into the corporeal world for a short time per day. The Red-Eyed Hunter is weaker than the other myriad types of Beasts, so it only hunts what it believes are easy marks.


    Estimated Level: 9


    THAT''S supposed to be weak? Simon thought, with no small amount of bafflement. It wasn''t the Level that unnerved him ¨C while still higher than his own, it was hard to be impressed with a single-digit number after chatting up the Sealed Demon of Ruination.


    Red-Eye''s unique properties, however, were horrifying. Relentless. Invisible. Intangible. A perfect assassin in every way. Even if an experienced warrior could presumably repel it, this was the kind of creature that ensured children never lived to see adulthood.


    And when compared to other Fell Beasts, it apparently ranked low on the totem pole.


    How in the world have the people of Valtia lasted this long? Simon glanced back at the Warding Orbs behind him. More of those? Lots more of those. Has to be.


    Gathering his thoughts, he examined the Red-Eyed Hunter. It hadn''t budged. According to Identify, the Beast could only turn corporeal for a short period each day. If he waited, it would be forced to vanish, just like it had when he took shelter within the Sanctuary Tree.


    Tempting. But the Hunter was also described as relentless. It would come for him again tomorrow...and there might not be any Orbs or Trees around him next time.


    Simon made a snap decision. He summoned his broken sword, holding it in his Glove of Power. His right arm Shapeshifted to its demonic form, silver-black scales gleaming viciously in the sunlight.


    Lastly, he put his four unspent points straight into Dexterity, bringing the stat up to 13. What he needed now was speed ¨C enough to rush down Red-Eyes and slay the Fell Beast before it disappeared.


    I''m Level 3...it''s Level 8...that''s doable, Simon mused, with absolutely zero evidence to support his forced bravado. His thoughts raced as fast as his feet, the distance between him and Red-Eyes rapidly narrowing. Shouldn''t have missed your opening strike. When prey is backed into a corner, ready to fight for its right to life, there''s no difference between the hunter and the hunted¨C


    It was at that moment, when he was in the middle of hyping himself up with the first cheesy lines he could think of, that Simon realized something rather peculiar.


    The Fell Beast was completely motionless. Even its swirling fog seemed to have frozen still. It hadn''t reacted at all to his approach.


    Except for its four red eyes ¨C staring directly at his demonic arm.


    An inhuman screech of terror blasted Simon''s ears. The Hunter immediately leaped backwards, exhibiting far greater speed than a meager 13 Dexterity. Its eyes were bulging with fear, their collective gaze fixated on his arm, never letting it out of sight.


    And then, like flicking a switch, it was gone. Simon was alone.


    He stood in silence until his brain caught up to what he''d just witnessed.


    "...Wait! Come back! I wanted to see how much EXP you''d give me!"

 Chapter 4.2

    Red-Eyes didn''t return the next day. Or the day after that.


    Coward. Some ''relentless'' hunter you turned out to be.


    Simon knew he should be relieved. As anticipated, there hadn''t been any more Sanctuary Trees or Warding Orbs along the road. A visit from Red-Eyes would''ve likely resulted in a premature end to his Valtian vacay. Most importantly, he needed to retain composure at all times ¨C an unsettled mindset was hardly conducive to survival.


    Yet his list of grievances were starting to pile up. He was thirsty, hungry, tired from sleeping badly on the harsh rocky ground, on-edge due to constantly watching for Fell Beast ambushes, mentally understimulated from traipsing through a barren wasteland, and kicking himself for rashly allocating four stat points. Dexterity wasn''t a bad choice, but what if it ended up being suboptimal?


    Although it''ll be worth it if I get to the next town sooner. A perk of increased Dexterity seemed to be that it reduced the strain of movement on his body. With the stat at 13, lightly jogging ate up as much of his stamina as walking had before coming to Valtia.


    He''d finally achieved a healthy level of cardio! And all it took was transmigrating into another world. Doctors hate this one simple trick.


    ...I''m more bored than I thought. Simon had been told multiple times by his paren¨C by people that his generation was addicted to smartphones and instant gratification.


    His problem was somewhat different. While the lack of stimulation was admittedly grating, this was also about when he would''ve stopped by Grace''s soup kitchen back on Earth. If Voice-In-The-Sky had never appeared, then right now Simon would be sorting meal boxes, readying them for those in need.


    Instead, he was here. Kirkelas had been a gratifying diversion, but after that? Just days of nothing. No meaningful accomplishments. No helping people or making progress.


    The itch was creeping up on him.


    That, more than anything else, was what he disliked about the emptiness surrounding him. It gave too much time for unwanted thoughts to infiltrate the fortress of his mind.


    At least the dehydration pains should serve as an adequate distraction.


    That would be affecting him soon. Simon had previously hoped that Transmigrator''s Body would cure him of his dietary needs after a full night''s sleep. Healing the internal ''damage'' done to his body, per se.


    Regrettably, that was one loophole the gods had accounted for. The System seemed to separate hunger and thirst from damage incurred via combat or injury. His stomach was just as empty upon awakening as before.


    He currently had enough water to sustain him for the rest of today. Afterwards...well, he''d once read that the human body could go seventy-two hours without refreshment before it started shutting down.


    If things came to that, he would be forced to bring out some of Stuart''s remains from Inventory. Uncooked meat contained a good amount of water. Identify had warned him against partaking of tainted Fell flesh, but when his only alternative was gradual organ failure, what choice did he have?


    With any luck, being Fell-Touched would grant him a measure of resistance to the Beast''s impurities. At best, it might render him completely immune to whatever corruption made Fell flesh toxic to humans.


    Not that raw meat was the smartest thing to consume even under normal circumstances.


    He kept walking, walking, walking. Eventually, Simon began outright wishing for Red-Eyes to return.


    Maybe its flesh would somehow be safer to eat.


    --


    Two more days had passed.


    It was now Simon''s sixth day in Valtia. Since the time that Red-Eyes fled, he hadn''t seen a Fell Beast, a Sanctuary Tree, or any signs of life whatsoever. His untainted rations were gone, and he''d reread Ardyn''s unsent love letters until the parchment crinkled.


    Desperation was beginning to sink in.


    Little farther. He moved his feet as if lifting lead weights, motivating himself with hollow assurances. Has to be just a little farther. Road can''t go on forever.


    Or maybe it did. Fantasy world and all that.


    There was one consolation prize ¨C the dehydration pains were indeed distracting him from other concerns. His throat felt like it was on fire, burning with insistent, unquenchable need. The rest of his body wasn''t faring much better, fluctuating between aches, wooziness, exhaustion, or some combination of the above.


    He would need to eat part of Stuart tomorrow. Assuming he survived the experience, the water within its meat should keep him going for...for longer. Perhaps¨C


    Simon perked up. Movement. At the edge of the horizon.


    His nerves tensed, preparing for the worst. If a Fell Beast ambushed him in this state, then he was deader than dead.


    Tension rapidly shifted to annoyance as the sight became more clear.


    A carriage was rushing down the road at high speeds. It resembled an old-timey caravan that settlers would''ve taken on the Oregon Trail, or that merchants used in the games he''d played. Wooden frame, large wheels, doors on the side, and a sturdy cloth covering the top.


    Except that it had no horses pulling it. The carriage was simply zooming along without a care, in defiance of the natural laws of physics.


    Simon let out a sigh. Hallucinations already? He kneaded his temples, trying to massage the pain away. If my subconscious is going to start tormenting me with false hope, then I would''ve preferred an all-you-can-eat-buffet. Burgers. Ice cream. Soda. God do I miss soda.


    Putting the vision out of his mind, he continued marching. This was merely another trial to overcome. He couldn''t get bogged down in delusions of a horseless carriage coming out of nowhere to rescue him.


    Then the hallucination drew closer.


    And closer.


    It was about five seconds from impact when Simon''s starved, malfunctioning mind grasped that it might actually be real.


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    "What the..." His voice cracked with disuse. "Hey! HEY! STOP!"


    To its credit, the carriage did slow down...although not quickly enough. Simon was forced to throw himself sideways lest he succumb to medieval-brand vehicular manslaughter.


    Still. It was the thought that counted.


    The beleaguered transmigrator shakily picked himself off the ground. He eyed the caravan as it came to a halt not far away, unsure of how to feel or what to expect. Circumstances had changed so suddenly that¨C


    Focus. Simon urged his nutrient-deprived brain to cooperate. He attempted to devise contingency plans for whatever debacle was about to transpire.


    It felt like trudging through an ocean of molasses. Baby steps, then. Make things easy on myself.


    When in doubt: gather intel.


    With the bizarre contraption now close by, he took the chance to examine it in detail. No less than four Warding Orbs were embedded onto the carriage''s wooden exterior. Aside from that, it didn''t look like anything that he hadn''t seen in pictures on Earth. Considering Valtia''s presumed level of technology, the vehicle was likely propelled by either magic spells or Artifacts.


    That was all the time he had to investigate before two people hopped out from inside.


    The duo consisted of a man and a woman, each in their early 40s of age. Both were sporting clothes of much finer make than Simon''s threadbare ensemble. They still weren''t up to Earth standards of luxury, but compared to them, he may as well have been wearing a potato sack.


    After six days of solitude ¨C excluding Kirkelas and Red-Eyes ¨C seeing other people in the flesh nearly prompted Simon to burst into cheer. Mostly from imagining the rations nestled within that wonderful caravan of theirs, but hey. He wouldn''t turn down the simple joy of pleasant company.


    Now if only they could sheath their swords and cease glaring at him with murderous intent. Then things would really be in business.


    "Who are you?" The woman took point, speaking in a harsh, questioning tone. "And how in Helmund''s name are you alive? Traveling alone on the road, no carriage or Warding Orbs, that...shouldn''t be...possible...."


    Her words faltered. With a mixture of haste and subdued fear, she gestured to the man beside her. "Ebris ¨C you have that portable Orb with you? Think this might be a new type of Hunter. Some deceiving Fell Beast in disguise."


    Well, yes, but actually no. Would the people of Valtia view a Fell-Touched human as a Beast?


    Probably best not to test that hypothesis.


    "Let''s calm down," Simon professed. He raised his hands in a non-threatening manner. "We''re all friends here."


    The man belted out a derisive laugh. "Are we now? Then tell me ¨C which friend of mine am I addressing, hmm? What''s your name?"


    In the few seconds afforded to him before he had to answer, Simon took stock of the current situation. Need info.


    Identify.


    Name: Ebris Twobreath


    Description: A merchant of sorts. Armed, dangerous, and won''t hesitate to defend himself. Suspicious of those he does not know.


    Estimated Level: 9


    Name: Lucette Drenoka


    Description: A merchant of sorts. Armed, dangerous, and won''t hesitate to defend herself. Views family as sacrosanct, and those outside the family...not so much.


    Estimated Level: 8


    That was less detail that he''d wanted. Simon willed Identify to give him more, but the Descriptions remained unchanged. He still didn''t know what governed the information it chose to reveal.


    They''re both wary of strangers. Understandable, when creatures like Red-Eyes roamed the lands, but not super helpful. They wouldn''t be willing to aid him out of the goodness of their heart.


    Both their Levels are higher than mine, too. Little surprise there. Pretty much everyone in Valtia with a modicum of combat expertise would be stronger than Level 3.


    Not that he could''ve defeated them even if he was Level 30. His body was essentially shutting down; a stiff breeze would''ve laid him low and danced on his corpse.


    What else is there? Merchants. Right. I can work with that.


    Merchants should be receptive to profitable bargains. If he showed them something that interested them ¨C like interdimensional storage for ferrying cargo ¨C then they''d be tempted to keep him around.


    He much preferred that to relying on the kindness of strangers. Generosity and goodwill were finite, fragile concepts, liable to shatter at the first mistake you made. Like a beautiful stained glass window with a sledgehammer suspended just inches above.


    Fulfill someone''s personal desires, though, and they would often treat you better than their own kin.


    "My name is Simon Cobblestone." He straightened his posture, drawing up every ounce of energy left in his failing body. "I''m¨C"


    "Cobblestone?"


    He was interrupted by a startled utterance from Lucette. The woman''s mouth had fallen open. "Do...do you know a man called Ardyn?"


    Simon froze. ''Do I know Ardyn?'' he internally repeated. It took him a split-second for his confusion to subside, and for his addled mind to connect the dots.


    THEY know Ardyn.


    Opportunity was a curious thing. It wasn''t a living creature, and it usually couldn''t be predicted in advance ¨C yet it shaped the history of the world, raising rulers and toppling others in equal measure. The difference between those who succeeded in life and those who crawled through the festering gutter of defeat...was a mere matter of seconds. Seize the moment, or wallow in disgrace.


    Simon seized this moment like a lifeline in a storm. He spoke before the thought was even fully formed, trusting his instincts to guide him to safe harbor.


    "You''ve met my cousin Ardyn?"

 Chapter 5.1

    Lucette and Ebris flinched as if they''d been slapped. The pair exchanged glances, a whirlwind of emotions raging across their faces.


    "Did you know of Ardyn''s expedition to Caelryn Cave?" Simon continued. He infused vulnerability into his tone, making his lip quiver slightly. "Our carriage was attacked. There was...this rat, this Beast, and..."


    He shuddered. "I was the only survivor."


    Both merchants gazed at him in shock ¨C but not skepticism. They were halfway to believing him, yet needed another push before they were willing to accept what he''d said as truth.


    Simon clenched his fists. "Ardyn never got to tell her." Now his voice sounded frail. He tried to force his eyes to well with tears, but his body didn''t have the moisture to spare. "After we looted Caelryn Cave, Ardyn planned to tell Relia how he felt. They were going to...to..."


    He let himself fall to his knees. It was barely acting; standing felt more difficult by the second. Simon opened his mouth to speak further, lay on the spiel a little thicker, but his throat was dry as a desert, and all that came out was a noise resembling a pitiful sob.


    That did the trick. Ebris and Lucette''s suspicions over the identity of Simon ''Cobblestone'' had been quelled by a one-two punch of logic and emotion. The intimate details of Ardyn''s personal life, gleaned from his unsent love letters, had fulfilled their need for empirical evidence. When combined with the visage of a broken young man pushed to his limit...


    Well, that would''ve been enough to tug the heartstrings of even the most blackhearted scoundrel.


    Ebris exploded into a litany of insults ¨C not aimed at Simon, but at the late Ardyn Cobblestone. "Thrice-damned fool! Misbegotten imbecile!" The merchant paced in a circle, his muscles taut, rage mingling with grief in equal measure. "We told him! We told him Caelryn Cave was cursed! But he was just so convinced that riches untold lay within!"


    Lucette remained silent. She only stared at the ground, her expression wracked with heartache.


    "And look what transpired!" Ebris shook his fists at nothing. "Him, dead! The new hires, dead! A carriage demolished, and its Warding Orbs lost!"


    He jabbed an accusing finger at Simon. "What''s more, he''s even dragged his younger cousin into this folly! A boy who has clearly seen no more than a week of combat ¨C if that!"


    Rude. Accurate, but rude.


    Too late, Ebris noticed that he hadn''t been paying much attention to how the bereaved cousin Cobblestone was feeling about all this. The man sputtered, his accusing finger falling to the wayside. With an awkward air, he approached, placing a hesitant hand on Simon''s right shoulder.


    "I...I am sorry. For your loss." Ebris cleared his throat. "Were you and him close?"


    Everything I knew about Ardyn comes from his letters. Your outburst just now practically doubled what I know of him.


    "Yes," Simon croaked. "My cousin sometimes spoke of you. Ebris Twobreath and Lucette Duvunoka." He included their surnames learned from Identify ¨C more evidence indicating that he''d spoken at length with Ardyn. "Stalwart allies, he said."


    The transmigrator turned wistful eyes up at the merchant. "Did he ever speak of me?"


    Ebris winced. "Erm...on occasion."


    A polite lie. It fit right at home within Simon''s web of deceit.


    Evidently, it wasn''t out of character for Ardyn to have hidden family somewhere. Was he the secluded loner type? Albeit still well-loved, based on the merchants'' reactions after learning of his demise.


    He hid his feelings for Relia too. Simon almost shook his head in exasperation. Should''ve opened your heart to her earlier. Honesty is the best policy.


    Ebris started speaking again. The transmigrator focused up, preparing to lie his ass off.


    "Ardyn was born in Caelryn City," said the merchant. "I assume that unlike him, you hail from Springwater Village?"


    Where? "Yes. We''re distant relatives."


    "That explains your shabby attire. Few places have been sucked dry by Helmund worse than Springwater. Can understand how Ardyn beguiled you with legends of hidden treasure. No offense meant to you or your hometown, of course."


    Simon nodded. He didn''t have enough context to BS a response this time. Instead, he waited for Ebris to continue, letting the man draw his own conclusions.


    The merchant sighed. "When we set out to check on the progress of Ardyn''s expedition, we anticipated that our worst fears might come to light ¨C yet this is beyond even our worst fears. Forgive me, Simon, but I must ask one question of you. "


    He grit his teeth. "What became of your carriage''s Warding Orbs?"


    Only one answer fit the narrative Simon was attempting to sell. "Wards stopped working." He put on a tormented expression, as if recalling a moment that would haunt his nightmares for years to follow. "Their light faded out of nowhere. Then...then the rat came. Gargantuan awful Fell Beast. Destroyed our carriage."


    Ebris cursed again. This time, his words had no fire to them, more filled with misery than rage. "Fool, fool, fool. Told Ardyn that his Wards could expire. Been happening all over. Need to stay vigilant."


    Simon regarded the merchant carefully. You told me that this scenario was beyond your worst fears, he thought, but you already knew that the Warding Orbs failing was a possibility? And rather than asking ''did the Wards run out'', you asked me ''what became of the Wards'' ¨C a vague, open-ended question.


    ...So that I wouldn''t know exactly which kind of answer would satisfy you.


    He was struck by the gut-churning sensation of having sidestepped a trap. Ebris seemed to be mixing truths with untruths in order to completely verify Simon''s story.


    Although, assuming that Ebris'' rant about Ardyn being careless was genuine, Simon didn''t think that the merchant had much of a leg to stand on. According to Identify, his carriage''s Warding Orbs would be depleted within just two years. That was longer than the Wards guarding Caelryn Cave, but not by a lot.


    "Loath as I am to consider this right now," Ebris said, "the Orb shards from Ardyn''s caravan might be salvageable." He glanced down the road. "You came from that direction, yes? Passed by Caelryn Cave? Could you lead us to¨C"


    "Stop."


    Lucette''s low voice cut through their conversation like a melancholy knife. "You''ve interrogated the poor boy plenty." She breathed in a deep, ragged breath. "Can''t you see he''s on his last legs? Let''s give him a proper meal before he keels over. He''s family."


    Ebris blinked. "Oh. Oh!" Redness colored his cheeks with embarrassment. "Yes. Apologies, Simon. Lean on my shoulder ¨C I''ll help you to our carriage."


    It was the most beautiful sentence he''d ever heard.


    --


    Simon officially had two new best friends. Granted, that wasn''t a high bar to clear, but anyone who''d saved him from starvation and dehydration was more than deserving of the title.


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    He spent the next day recuperating in their carriage as it raced forward, fast as an Earth car on the highway. Ebris and Lucette explained to him their caravan was powered by a rare and expensive Artifact. All caravans were, merchant or otherwise. When paired with multiple Warding Stones, it was by far the quickest and safest method of travel in Valtia''s Severed Isles.


    After days of endlessly marching across the empty wastes, pushing his body to its breaking point for just one more step, the sight of familiar scenery rapidly disappearing behind him felt disquieting. It put into perspective how little distance he''d actually traversed compared to what a magically-fueled vehicle could cover in a fraction of the time.


    The duo were amused by his understated reaction, interpreting it as the restrained awe of a country bumpkin who''d been too shy to ask cousin Ardyn about his fancy technology. Simon made no effort to correct them. Even if he''d wished to, the ''Sworn to Secrecy'' Trait meant that he could never tell them the full story ¨C and what he could tell would smash their trust into infinitesimal fragments.


    It was a notion that guilted him as the hours passed by. Ebris and Lucette were...nice. Really, really nice. The merchant pair had fed him, offered him shelter and transportation, and even extended their sympathies in the form of emotional support. At different points, both of them had individually whispered that they were willing to lend an ear if he needed to vent his sorrows.


    They were deserving of honesty. And the second he gave it to them, they would likely toss him out of the carriage while it was still moving.


    I''ll have to leave soon as I can. The fabrication of ''Simon Cobblepot, Ardyn''s distant relative'' wouldn''t hold up under prolonged scrutiny. Inevitably, the holes in his story would widen until they became the size of canyons. Ebris and Lucette were giving him space for the moment, but it was only a matter of time until they asked specific questions he had no answers for.


    The two hadn''t even pressed him on why he''d been walking in the opposite direction of Springwater Village ¨C which Simon hadn''t known until they brought it up. He''d mumbled an excuse about being running from Caelryn Cave, but neither of them seemed to buy it. Nevertheless, they had said no more, not wanting to push a man in the midst of processing his grief.


    Because they were nice.


    To the point where he''d spent half the day working through a minor existential crisis. Ebris and Lucette couldn''t have realized this, but this situation ¨C right down to how they''d stopped a moving vehicle for his sake ¨C was dredging up certain issues in...very specific ways.


    Ways that he''d only ever told Grace.


    Mercifully, the privacy gave Simon time to re-rationalize his worldview. Eventually, after hours of internal deliberation, he concluded that he still didn''t need to put faith in the kindness of strangers.


    Ebris and Lucette had only shown pity because of his family name. In that sense, he wasn''t a stranger, but rather an extension of their affection for Ardyn Cobblestone. Taking in Simon also allowed them to atone for Ardyn''s death by helping a member of his family, whereas they''d been helpless to save the man himself.


    In contrast...Simon No-Name, the mysterious wanderer? He would''ve been left to rot.


    Yeah. That line of logic made everything make sense again.


    "What are you thinking of?" Lucette suddenly asked. Her voice was casual, but she couldn''t hide the concern in her eyes as she stared at him. Some of his emotions must''ve leaked through to his face.


    "That." Choosing an object at random, Simon pointed towards a rolled-up rug stashed in the corner of the carriage. "Where''d you get it?"


    The carriage was stocked with an assortment of items that seemed largely unrelated to each other. He''d spotted food, weapons, coins, books, clothes of wildly varying sizes, random knick-knacks, textiles, medicines, and even a section labeled ''poisons and antidotes''.


    Most of the items were strewn about without a care, as if they''d been hurriedly tossed inside. The disorganization caused the merchants'' carriage to resemble a traveling flea market...which apparently paid well, based on their respectable garments and surfeit of quality goods.


    Lucette''s eyes were drawn to the rug he''d pointed at. "That old thing? We picked it up from ¨C from a city. Caelryn City. Big, bustling place at the center of the Severed Isles. Like nothing you''ve ever seen. There should be a Waypoint near Springwater that leads to it. Maybe we can take you after our business here is finished?"


    Simon suppressed a frown. Her voice had hitched when mentioning the city. She''d been about to say something else, then hastily corrected herself, then attempted to distract him with promises of exploring the world beyond his provincial hick hometown.


    He was tempted to inquire further, but that would be too dangerous of a game. Asking Lucette or Ebris to open up meant giving them an opportunity to turn it around and do the same to him. Keeping his own secrets was far more important than learning of theirs.


    Especially when she''d handed him the perfect lead-in to fish for info about Valtia.


    "Caelryn City." Simon slowly spoke the words aloud, as if tasting them for the first time. "I''ve heard of it, but I''ve never been there. Never even been to a Waypoint."


    "I''d be surprised if you had. You''d need to own enough wealth to purchase a carriage ¨C and pay the teleportation fees on top. Outside of the nobility, few are that fortunate."


    You are, Simon almost blurted out. Instead, he kept his eyes on the prize. "Is Caelryn truly so much grander than Springwater?" He injected a sullen note into his voice. "Ardyn didn''t seem impressed with my village, but I don''t see what''s so wrong with it."


    Lucette adopted a conciliatory smile. "I doubt he intended anything bad by it. It''s just...once you''ve seen what the rest of Valtia has to offer, your expectations adjust. And Springwater..."


    She hesitated, as if mulling over how to soften an impending blow. "Springwater Village is in bad shape. We should pass it by and head straight to Caelryn."


    Bad shape how? Asking directly would''ve revealed how ignorant he was, so Simon merely nodded.


    When he spoke next, his tone was alight with wide-eyed exuberance. "Could you tell me more of Caelryn City? What it like?" All he knew was that it shared a name with the Sealed Demon''s cave.


    Lucette''s expression brightened. She thought she had him by the hook now. "There''s markets, stalls, and people as far as the eye can see. Duke Helmund''s son visits too frequently for my liking, but if you can avoid him, the city is yours for the taking. One time our crew went there as a group, looking to sell some wares..."

 Chapter 5.2

    Simon learned much from Lucette''s good-natured ramblings. Unlike the wasteland he''d been trudging through, not all of Valtia was an inhospitable disaster. Major cities such as Caelryn were surviving ¨C relatively speaking. At the very least, plants and livestock could still be cultivated around those areas.


    Things changed as you traveled away from those larger settlements. The farther you went, the more the ground morphed from healthy soil to a black, rocky surface. Fell Beasts propagated in higher numbers as well. Most of the distant villages like Springwater were hanging on by a thread.


    Lucette hadn''t felt the need to explain why. She seemed to assume that the cause was something he ¨C and everyone else ¨C already knew of.


    It gave him plenty to contemplate as they stopped for the evening.


    With the sun barely peeking over the horizon, their caravan made camp. They deactivated the Artifact propelling the carriage forward, double-checked the Warding Orbs, and then stepped outside to stretch their legs. It felt strange to traipse around without a care, but Ebris and Lucette were confident that they''d be safe as long as the Wards remained functional.


    Simon elected to take them at their word. His mind needed a breather just as much as his body. More days of constantly keeping watch for the Red-Eyed Hunter would''ve driven him crazy.


    Crazier.


    He was also happy to report that, after resting and eating properly for nearly two days, he was feeling leagues better than before. Transmigrator''s Body couldn''t replicate water and calories out of thin air, but it did solid work otherwise. Thanks to the merchants'' generosity, the Trait had hastened his recovery time.


    Lucette and Ebris chalked it up to youthful vigor ¨C then decided to host an impromptu party in celebration. They set up an honest-to-god cookpot near the carriage, serving bowls of what Simon soon declared to be the most delicious broth in the universe. Anything would''ve tasted delicious to someone recovering from malnutrition, yet that didn''t make the cozy little dinner feel like any less of a feast.


    "Make sure to eat your fill," Ebris remarked. "You need the energy, and we wouldn''t want Ardyn''s specter coming back to complain that we''ve treated his kin unfairly."


    Simon paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. "Can...that happen?" It was a legitimate question. Valtia already had glowing trees, corrupted monsters, sealed demons, and magic caravans ¨C vengeful ghosts wouldn''t be particularly out of place.


    "Oh yes." The merchant nodded gravely, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "Beware those who depart from the world with desires unfulfilled. If you ever feel an unearthly presence caressing the back of your neck, it may not be a Hunter Fell Beast, but¨C"


    Lucette lightly slapped his arm. "Quit spooking the boy, Ebris. He''s been sleeping poorly as-is." She looked at Simon with an apologetic gaze. "Pay no heed to this knave. I don''t know what fables have spread throughout Springwater Village, but rest assured that ghostly specters are no more than myths to frighten children with."


    Ebris'' mouth curled into a sheepish grin. "Sorry. Couldn''t help myself."


    Simon laughed. It was the most genuine display of emotion he''d shown the merchants thus far. They laughed in kind, appearing sincerely relieved that his mood was on the upswing.


    His happiness was their happiness.


    The transmigrator observed Ebris and Lucette as they continued eating. He saw how they talked and smiled, exchanging joy freely and openly. In this tight-knit circle of theirs, he had somehow found a place.


    No. Been given a place.


    An urge ran through him, traitorous ideas worming their way into his thoughts. Maybe...


    Maybe I can stay. Just until we reach Caelryn City.


    It wouldn''t work. He was fully aware of that. The only reason they hadn''t uncovered his deception yet was because they were intentionally not asking too many questions.


    When that grace period ended, the existence of Simon Cobblestone would come crashing down, its paper-thin foundations rent asunder by swords of truth. Perhaps literally, even, as the merchants skewered him for sullying the name of their fallen comrade.


    Soon enough, they would hate him.


    Which wouldn''t stop Simon from repaying them when he found the chance. When he later established himself in Valtia and accrued some funds of his own, a generous, anonymous donation would be sent over. They might hate him, they might curse him for his duplicity, but he would lighten their burdens as best he could.


    Ebris and Lucette had earned that much.


    Really, he couldn''t blame himself for wanting to stick around. Aside from Grace...when was the last time he''d felt this kind of warmth?


    When you were twelve years old, a small voice answered in the back of his mind, like a poison arrow aimed directly at his heart. Before you woke up one day and answered the phone.


    Simon was rescued from his ensuing mental spiral by a well-timed distraction.


    Something in the distance. He squinted. Movement. Difficult to see with the light now fading from the sky, but still visible.


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    His thoughts immediately went to Fell Beasts. But after a second of staring, he recognized the movement as something recently familiar.


    "Is that another carriage?"


    Lucette and Ebris turned to follow his gaze. "Yes," Ebris muttered. "Has to be Relia and Torben. The rest of our crew. Didn''t expect them this early."


    Simon lifted an eyebrow. "Relia? As in¨C"


    "The one who Ardyn held affections for, yes." The merchant sighed, running a hand down his face. "She and Torben were headed to Springwater Village. Wanted to try and talk Ardyn out of his folly. If they''re coming down the road from that direction...then they''ve already seen the remains of his group."


    He sent a nervous glance at Simon. "Don''t tell her about Ardyn''s feelings. And definitely not about him planning to court her. Will rub salt in the wound."


    Simon mutely nodded. That was a request he was more than happy to accommodate. The less he spoke to other members of the merchant crew, the better. It would only take one rightfully paranoid soul to expose his falsehoods.


    A sense of anxious tension grew within him as the second carriage raced up the road. He racked his brain, devising contingency after contingency, producing backup lies to cover holes in his story. The vehicle began to slow, then finally stopped, parking expertly near their campsite.


    Two people hopped out. Simon wasted no time Identifying them.


    Name: Relia Redbow


    Description: A merchant of sorts. Armed, dangerous, and won''t hesitate to defend herself. In love with Ardyn Cobblestone. Was waiting for him to confess. Is now plagued with bitter regrets.


    Estimated Level: 8


    Name: Torben Khemu


    Description: A merchant of sorts. Armed, dangerous, and won''t hesitate to defend himself. Taciturn. Prefers to solve problems before they become problems.


    Estimated Level: 7


    His eye twitched once at the lack of useful intel. He''d honestly learned more just by looking at them.


    Relia and Torben were younger than Ebris and Lucette, although still older than Simon, seeming to be in their late 20s. Their attire was on par with the first two merchants, and their weapons were well taken care-of.


    Unlike the others ¨C who all wielded swords ¨C Relia possessed a longbow. Her bow was painted a glaring blood-red, indicating that her surname may have been purposefully chosen rather than inherited. Or that she''d adored her birth name so much as to shape her fighting style around it.


    Lastly, both Relia and Torben had evidently discovered the remnants of Ardyn''s ill-fated dreams. The pair wore expressions of understated grief, as if their tears had been spent long before this meeting.


    Silver linings, Simon mused, his face impassive. They can corroborate parts of my story. I left enough of Stuart''s meat behind that its body was still recognizable as a giant rat.


    "Hi." Relia''s greeting was short and clipped. She spared a single glance for the newcomer, unvoiced questions swimming in her eyes, but then quickly turned back towards Ebris and Lucette. "Bad news to report. We...found Ardyn."


    She told the exact tale Simon needed. A demolished caravan. No usable Warding Orbs. Multiple dead humans. One dead Fell Beast. With every word, Relia unwittingly substantiated his half of the story ¨C and the existence of Ardyn''s distant Cobblestone cousin.


    "Thank you for informing us," Ebris affirmed, his tone sympathetic. "It must have been difficult, finding them in such a state. You''ve been through much."


    Relia let out a faltering breath. "We have." She composed herself, then peered at Simon. "Gotta ask. Who''s¨C"


    A muffled shout emanated from within the second carriage.


    Simon''s head snapped towards the sound. "Did anyone else hear that?"


    "Oh, right." Relia''s tone was casual, like she was just now remembering something she''d forgotten to mention. "Picked up some cargo near Springwater Village."


    Cargo.


    The word didn''t sink in just yet. It didn''t sink in when Ebris and Lucette gave Simon nervous glances. It didn''t sink in as Relia led the group to her carriage and opened up the side door.


    It only truly sank in when he looked inside.


    Two people were laying on the floor, bound in ropes and cloth gags. Their restraints were tight, having been tied by a well-practiced hand.


    One person was a young woman around Simon''s age, while the other was a man old enough to be her father. Their matching red hair gave credence to that assumption. Both were completely unable to move, like pigs trussed up for the butcher''s block.


    And both were staring up with gazes of pure hatred.


    "Think they''d fetch a decent price at Springwater?" Relia commented. "We''ll be needing funds to replace Ardyn''s carriage."


    In that instant, Simon belatedly realized that he''d been misinterpreting a critical piece of information. Despite his frustration with Identify''s recent lack of detail...it had warned him of this very thing, four times in a row.


    Ebris, Lucette, Relia, and Torben were all merchants.


    Of sorts.

 Chapter 6.1

    The moment stretched out into infinity as Simon stared at the two bound captives. His mind was a kaleidoscope of thoughts and emotions, a tempest of roaring fervor. Breathing was a struggle. If someone had asked him a question right then, he wouldn''t have been able to speak.


    None of that rose to the surface. None of it showed on his expression. An outside observer may have praised his commendable poker face, but no. It was merely that he felt so many things at the same time they were canceling each other out.


    All that remained was a crushing tightness in his chest.


    "Springwater Village won''t purchase them," Ebris explained. He glanced at Simon, as if waiting for an outburst. When that never came, he continued addressing the other...merchants. "Rural villages take a hard stance against our profession. It affects them the most. And their coffers are barren, anyhow."


    Simon''s gaze hadn''t shifted from the two captives. He kept running through scenarios in his head, imagining how he could save them. Summon a weapon. Cut the ropes. Hold off the merchants as the father and daughter ran.


    Except his best weapon in Inventory was a broken sword, and he was the lowest-Level fighter here.


    "That''s a problem," Relia said, frowning. "Waiting until Caelryn City to sell them would eat into our profits."


    "Why so?" asked Lucette. Lucette, who had invited him into her carriage. Lucette, who had cheerfully regaled him with escapades of Caelryn City. Lucette, who had offered him warm broth just minutes prior.


    Relia pointed at the older male captive. "He''s sick. Not sure what with, but he needs medicine ¨C and more rations than normal. We''d have to use extra supplies on the trip there, then somehow find a buyer willing to take him off our hands."


    I have the Glove of Minor Power, Simon thought. Plus my demonic arm. In a battle against four higher-Level opponents, that''s worth...not enough. Not even close. What if¨C


    "Let''s just kill him."


    Simon practically gave himself whiplash with how fast his head turned. The fourth merchant ¨C Torben ¨C had spoken up for the first time.


    "Girl is young, healthy, pretty," the man remarked. "She''ll fetch a high price. The father? Too old and frail. Damaged goods. No one''ll want him as a workhorse. Keeping him alive is a sunk cost."


    He patted the sword attached to his belt. "Cut the throat, leave the corpse. Give the Fell Beasts a meal so they bother us less."


    Both captives made noises beneath the thick gags covering their mouths. The woman''s gaze shifted from hatred and loathing to one of wide-eyed terror.


    Ebris and Lucette exchanged a look. After a couple seconds of consideration, they nodded. "Very well," Ebris proclaimed. "I''ll trust your judgement on¨C"


    "Wait."


    Simon didn''t raise his voice, nor did he cry out in righteous anger. He spoke with a calm, collected tone, as if was disagreeing on which restaurant they should go to for dinner. "Is that necessary?"


    Relia blinked at him. "I''m sorry, but who are you?"


    "Simon Cobblestone."


    He threw out the name like a grenade for Relia to deal with, turning away from the woman as her expression twisted with shock. Simon faced Ebris, who seemed to be the nominal leader of their crew. "Killing the man is pointless. If you don''t want to sell him, then just let him go."


    Ebris shook his head. "Shouldn''t do that." He had adopted the gentle, infuriating tone of a man explaining difficult truths to a boy who didn''t know any better. "If he survives, he could return to exact vengeance on us. It''s happened before."


    "Wouldn''t survive anyway," Torben interjected. "We aren''t giving back his portable Orb. Beasts''ll make short work of him."


    Right. Fell Beasts. Without the protection of Warding Orbs, escape was likely to end in a visit from the Red-Eyed Hunter ¨C or something even worse.


    Which still might be preferable to what awaits them in Caelryn City.


    Simon forced himself to nod at Ebris and Torben, as if that was the most reasonable stance he''d ever heard. "Okay, but that still doesn''t answer why you''re killing him. What''s wrong with leaving the man be?"


    "He''ll cut into our supplies," Lucette replied, in a soft voice that made Simon want to scream. "Rations and medicine aren''t cheap."


    "Then let him starve."


    They hadn''t been expecting that. As the four merchants gaped in surprise, Simon shrugged, his shoulders aching from how tense they were. "If the man is a resource sink...just don''t spend any resources. The problem will resolve itself soon enough. He and his daughter can live out their last few days as family."


    He gestured towards the bound woman. "I''m sure she would be grateful to have additional time together. So grateful that she wouldn''t cause any trouble whatsoever on the road to Caelryn City." The words almost prompted bile to rise up from the back of his throat. "A handful of generosity can buy an ocean of gratitude ¨C isn''t that right?"


    Simon locked eyes with the woman, silently urging her to play along. Eventually, after several nerve-wracking seconds, she slowly nodded in assent.


    "There you have it," he affirmed. "Leaving the man alive is a net positive for our crew."


    Relia scoffed at him. "Our crew? And just who are you to¨C"


    "Easy now," Ebris warned. "Emotions are running high. Let''s revisit this when you and Simon have been properly introduced."


    "I don''t need an introduction to spot a two-bit charlatan." Relia''s glare turned vicious. "What did he tell you? Ardyn''s distant brother, I presume?"


    "Cousin," Simon casually put forth.


    "Ancient One take your soul, liar. Ardyn would''ve told me if he had a cousin."


    A tiny bit of Simon''s self-control irrevocably fractured. "I think there''s plenty Ardyn never told you, Relia."


    She stilled. "Like what?"


    "Like how he lov¨C"


    Ebris grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. "Lucette and I need to have a private talk with Simon." He looked at each person in turn. "Don''t touch the cargo. We''ll decide what to do with them later."


    They led him to the other side of camp, outside of Relia and Torben''s range of hearing. It was a short walk that lasted roughly a thousand years.


    Once they''d picked a spot, Ebris and Lucette stood awkwardly side-by-side, facing Simon. They seemed to crumple under the weight of his unblinking gaze. "You have questions?" Lucette offered.


    Simon said nothing. He didn''t trust himself to speak just yet.


    "Ardyn never told you," Ebris began. "About our method of trade, I mean. He wanted to keep you at arm''s length from the business."


    "You attack people." The words felt like they were being spoken by someone else. "You take their things. Take them."


    Lucette answered immediately. "Yes. That''s how we''ve survived."


    She didn''t sound guilty. It was just a statement of fact. If anything, the only thing she sounded concerned over was how Simon would respond.


    Realizing that jolted him out of his fugue. You''re acting irrational, he told himself. Gather intel. Assess the situation. Make plans. That''s how you handle unforeseen dilemmas. Get to it, and stop wasting time.


    "I assumed you were merchants." First step was to ensure they didn''t excommunicate him. Had to talk normally. "That''s what Ardyn led me to believe."


    "We consider ourselves as such," Ebris clarified.


    Titles like bandits and slavers thundered in Simon''s mind. "Right." He tapped his pointer finger on his thigh. "For how long?"


    "Fifteen years or so. Weren''t always in the business, but it''s given us a better way of life than anything before."


    Simon started to wonder how many people they enslaved each year. That, multiplied by fifteen, would measure the extent of the unfathomable suffering they had wrought.


    Stop it. Stop feeling so betrayed. Did you forget that the sole reason you draw breath is because you stole a name from a dead man? If you weren''t dear cousin Cobblestone, you''d have ended up abandoned ¨C or as their newest piece of cargo. They were never saints to begin with.


    He knew that.


    He...knew that.


    So why...


    "Do you need time alone to think?" Lucette asked.


    Simon had no choice but to accept. He wasn''t in any condition to navigate this conversation. "I do."


    Ebris nodded. "We''ll speak to Relia on your behalf. She''s not usually so thorny as this. Ardyn''s death has affected her deeply ¨C a pain that I''m sure you are quite familiar with."


    "Water under the bridge." Simon paused. "As for the father¨C"


    "Not to worry. We don''t see any harm in leaving him be."


    It was an olive branch. They didn''t care one iota about whether the man lived or died. Just whether agreeing would help Simon come around to their way of thinking.


    One day to resolve this. The man had been in captivity for a day or two already. Relia and Torben wouldn''t have fed him. Simon also knew full well how badly malnutrition and dehydration affected a person''s body. If the man was ill on top of that...


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    One day. At most. After that, he might be too weak to recover.


    "Thanks. I appreciate it." Simon gave them a stiff thumbs-up, then moved to walk away.


    "We''ll be here if you need to talk," Lucette said. Another bright smile was decorating her face.


    Simon bit back a hollow laugh. Just half an hour ago, their kindness had warmed his heart.


    Now it simply burned.


    --


    Both carriages soon turned in for the night. Ebris thought it best for everyone to cool down, catch some sleep, and then tackle the next day with refreshed mindsets.


    It took immense willpower for Simon not to sneak over and try freeing the captives.


    His attempt would have failed. The slavers were alternating watches throughout the night. To ensure that the captives survived, Simon would need to steal a portable Warding Orb, gather enough rations for two people to subsist on for at least a few days, and then remove their bindings. All while not being seen or heard. When he had absolutely zero proficiency in stealth.


    Impossible.


    That cold logic did little to prevent the alluring call of ''What if...'' from replaying in his mind, over and over and over.


    Needless to say, he didn''t sleep a wink, laying pensively on a cot inside Ebris and Lucette''s carriage. His time was instead spent on devising a plan of action that might realistically succeed.


    It didn''t take long. Steps naturally fell into place as the moonlit night passed by, like puzzle pieces that were meant for each other. No other plan he could envision possessed the slightest hope of succeeding.


    However, it was predicated on an all-important question. One that he was still figuring out.


    Why is Identify so inconsistent?


    Simon believed that there was no such thing as a perfectly impartial analysis. Aside from ''hard science'' disciplines like mathematics, everything was open to interpretation. With the right name, an unknown vagrant could become a fast friend. Slavers thought themselves merchants, and villains thought themselves heroes.


    People couldn''t even agree on the sanctity of a life.


    So he couldn''t entirely fault Identify for being inconsistent. It didn''t need to tell him an object''s whole life story. Just a smattering of relevant information would''ve been greatly appreciated.


    Such as warning him a bit more clearly that he was traveling with monsters.


    But it wasn''t always like that. Identify had informed him that Stuart''s meat was toxic. It could predict the remaining lifespan of a Warding Orb. The bizarre properties of the Red-Eyed Hunter had been plainly revealed to him ¨C no problem.


    What was different this time? Why hadn''t it revealed who Ebris, Lucette, and the others really were?


    Hours later, he''d finally come up with a hypothesis he felt confident in. The answer seemed simple yet complicated, and it would influence how he utilized Identify moving forward.


    Fact: Identify could provide information that Simon was completely unaware of. This had been confirmed on numerous occasions. Simon couldn''t have known precisely how long a Warding Orb would last, or that one of Kirkelas'' titles was the Sealed Demon of Ruination. Those details were too specific.


    Fact: Identify had never told him anything that, theoretically, he couldn''t have guessed himself. Even if the guess was one-in-a-million. Sure, it''d informed him that a nondescript glove was actually an Artifact of power...but he''d been looking for weapons and tools at the time. And a title like ''The Sealed Demon of Ruination'' was just a string of words that sounded appropriately diabolical. With a run of exceptional predictive luck, he wouldn''t have needed Identify at all.


    Hypothesis: Identify''s output was directed by his own biases and assumptions. It focused on whatever key details he thought would be the most crucial to learn.


    If he was concerned that Stuart''s meat was inedible, then Identify might confirm that guess for him. If he believed that a Fell Hunter possessed unnatural abilities, then the Skill might inform him of those abilities. It could even throw in some freebie info, like explaining how the Sanctuary Tree used to be part of a larger grove, as that was still related to how confused he''d felt over finding a lone tree in the middle of a wasteland.


    But it didn''t tell him that Red-Eyes would flee at the sight of his demonic arm. Simon hadn''t considered that as a possibility at all. Although seemingly omniscient, Identify couldn''t create a brand-new interpretation of the world for him.


    And what had he thought when he first saw Ebris and Lucette''s carriage?


    ''It resembled an old-timey caravan that settlers would''ve taken on the Oregon Trail, or that merchants used in the games he''d played.''


    Settlers. Merchants. Quaint concepts with harmless associations. Their clothes had only reinforced the notion of them being respectable folk. People he could treat with a normal amount of caution.


    The idea of them being bandit slavers had never crossed his mind.


    Thus, Identify rolled with his interpretation. While it couldn''t present outright false information, it also didn''t need to correct anything, as technically, he hadn''t been wrong. These were indeed merchants...of sorts.


    My fault. Simon grit his teeth. If I''d been suspicious of their true activities ¨C even just a fleeting thought ¨C then Identify probably would''ve warned me. I got lured in by smiling faces, veneers of compassion, and a hot dinner. Didn''t look below the surface. Didn''t want to.


    To be honest, he was surprised at himself. Judging a book by its cover was a rookie mistake. He''d been disappointed enough times by people to know better than this.


    In a flash, Simon jolted upright, the thought echoing in his mind. Disappointed.


    Hmm.


    Before doing anything else, he glanced at Lucette, sleeping soundly in the corner. Identify.


    Name: Lucette Drenoka


    Description: A merchant of sorts. Armed, dangerous, and won''t hesitate to defend herself. Views family as sacrosanct, and those outside the family...not so much.


    Estimated Level: 8


    Exactly the same. Apparently, one of Identify''s quirks was that its Descriptions wouldn''t update after being used. Or maybe there were hidden conditions to update it that he wasn''t fulfilling? Either way, he couldn''t use it to gather new information about the slavers, who''d all been immediately subjected to Identify when he met them.


    But the slavers weren''t the only people here.


    Doing his utmost not to make a sound, he crept over to the side of the carriage interior. Simon gently cracked its door open, peeking outside.


    The second carriage belonging to Relia could be seen on the other side of camp. She was on guard, watching the captives in case they managed to untie themselves and make a run for it. The captives themselves were still bound with ropes, lying motionless on the caravan''s floor.


    And luckily, they were in view through a small window on the side.


    I''d rather not be disappointed by people again so soon. What he discovered wouldn''t change the first half of his plan, but the second half...


    Well, it would be nice to know if he''d been sticking his neck out for secret serial killers or something. Wasn''t too late to pivot.


    Identify.


    Name: Katarina Cartier


    Description: Fled from Caelryn City to seek a better life. Partially for herself ¨C but mainly for her father. May end up returning in chains. Refuses to give up hope. Over the years, she has grievously injured one person in self-defense, but has never killed.


    Estimated Level: 5


    Name: Gerold Cartier


    Description: Fled from Caelryn City to seek a better life. Partially for himself ¨C but mainly for his daughter. Things were looking up until a slaver caravan found them on the road. Over the years, he has killed three people, all of them in...mostly self-defense. He regrets the more violent times of his life. If left untreated, his illness will prove fatal.


    Estimated Level: 3 (13 when healthy)


    A daughter and a father, two souls bound by blood, supporting each other when no one else could. Both had endured harsh times up until now. One had killed ¨C but in self-defense, and he seemed to be trying to leave his past behind.


    That was more than good enough for Simon.


    He was just about to close the door when the young woman ¨C Katarina ¨C opened her eyes.


    She stared across the camp, her intense gaze drilling into his. It was a look that rang louder than any scream. Without speaking a single word, she beseeched his aid, pleading for him to come over and help them escape.


    Guilt pierced Simon''s chest as he gingerly shut the door. It stung, but his plan wasn''t ready. He couldn''t do anything for them.


    Yet.


    He peered at another section of Ebris and Lucette''s carriage, locating his target among the cluttered items.


    Identify.

 Chapter 6.2

    The next morning was a quiet, uneasy affair.


    Ebris and Lucette tried their utmost to smooth tensions. They greeted everyone with wide smiles, formally introduced Simon to Relia and Torben...then grimaced as their efforts fizzled out like embers smothered by a wintry snowstorm. Torben remained silent, and while Simon exchanged several terse words with Relia, that was all.


    It was for the best. Speaking with Relia would''ve invariably led to her questioning his supposed relation to Ardyn. Simon had prepared answers and stories over the past night, but the simplest way to pass an interrogation was to avoid it entirely.


    And it wasn''t like he had any comforting platitudes to offer her, either. Not if he wanted to be honest about how he felt.


    ''Ardyn? Yeah, he got what was coming to him. Those who live by the sword die by the sword, and those who enslave others shouldn''t be surprised when karma arrives in the form of an oversized rodent. Besides, Stuart ¨C that''s what I call the rat, we''re close ¨C did everyone a favor by munching on that expedition. If Ardyn had actually made it to Caelryn Cave, he would''ve reached the bottom and found the Sealed Demon of Ruination. Probably sets Kirkelas free for some pocket change and a pat on the back. Anyone with the poor judgement to fall in love with you would *totally* make a deal with a devil.''


    Some opinions were better left unsaid.


    Ebris made breakfast for them. More broth. It was objectively delicious, and tasted like sandpaper on Simon''s tongue. He ate it anyway to keep up appearances, acutely aware of Katarina glaring holes into the back of his skull.


    Her father was struggling. Gerold''s eyes had lost their vigor, as if a milky haze was clouding his mind. Without food or water to sustain him, the man''s illness was worsening by the hour.


    Simon did nothing. He merely went back to his cot alone, gathered what he needed, and bided his time.


    The carriages set off again. At some point they passed by Caelryn Cave. According to Ebris, it would be another two days or so until their procession reached Springwater Village. Relia had argued that they make a pit stop there; obviously to verify that Simon really was a resident, or expose him if he wasn''t.


    Simon saw no reason to disagree. Matters would be settled long before then.


    At noon, their dual caravan stopped once more. Time for lunch. Lucette''s turn to cook.


    She was just about to begin when Simon approached her.


    "Hey." He put on a hesitant, embarrassed tone, as if he''d been working up the nerve to speak all day. "Sorry for...sorry. Mind if I handle lunch? You guys keep making meals for me, and I haven''t returned the favor, and...yeah."


    Lucette''s smile was so broad that it outshone the midday sun. "That sounds delightful," she answered, seeing his offer as an attempt to mend bridges. "Doesn''t need to be amazing. Whatever you can manage is fine."


    Simon did just that, largely copying the recipe he''d watched Ebris make at breakfast. Less chance of cooking something that people wouldn''t eat. The main difference was that he went somewhat heavier on the spices ¨C enough to mask the flavor, but without raising eyebrows. That was important.


    The four slavers ate without complaint. So did Simon. Ebris was sitting closest to him, while Lucette had positioned herself partway between him and Relia to act as a social buffer.


    He waited until everyone was halfway finished with their food before speaking up.


    "I''d like to know more." Simon faced Ebris and Lucette, assuming a neutral, non-judgemental tone. "How did your crew start up? When did Ardyn join?"


    Ebris nodded, seeming pleased that he was asking. "As I told you yesterday, we joined together fifteen years ago. Ardyn was a founder." He scratched his chin. "I suppose we began much like any other merchant crew does ¨C by identifying a market that needed filling."


    "You weren''t born into the trade? Or inducted into it by force? Or¨C"


    "It was our choice, Simon." Ebris winced, buried memories flickering in his expression. "If you knew the trials we''d endured before...it is no exaggeration to say that this was our salvation. As someone hailing from Springwater Village, you should be well-aware of the struggle that we commoners face."


    Two more commoners struggled behind him, writhing in their bindings, days away from being sold into a living hell ¨C or just murdered out of convenience.


    Simon took a second to compose himself. Frontal assault won''t work. He would never convince them to upend their entire way of life at the drop of a hat.


    Attack from the side. "I think that these two people are not unlike us," he remarked, gesturing towards Katarina and Gerold. "What if you went after people who were ¨C for lack of better phrasing ¨C more deserving? Like unrepentant murderers, or¨C"


    "Other slavers?" Torben interrupted. His fellow three ''merchants'' flinched at the title, like it was something they''d agreed not to state so directly. "Would bring trouble on our heads," he continued. "You don''t go after people that deserve it. You go after people that won''t be missed."


    "Oh." Simon tapped his spoon against the side of his bowl, letting out a bit of pent-up energy. "And you''re happy with...being you?"


    Lucette quickly chimed in, cutting off what Torben was about to say next. "Before forming the crew, we all walked different paths in different cities. None of our old vocations proved fruitful. Everyone here knows what it feels like to starve."


    A sharp edge entered her voice. "There simply aren''t enough opportunities for lower-caste folk. Either you find a way to pander to the ones with coin, or you live in filthy, run-down hovels, eking out a miserable living in the hope that tomorrow will be less of an unrelenting slog. I can''t go back to that, Simon. I won''t. Not after experiencing what it means to be free and live well."


    She exhaled, pointing at Simon''s bowl. "The meals you''ve enjoyed these past days wouldn''t have been possible without our business."


    "Then why feed me?" he snapped. "I''m sure I''d fetch a fine price." It wasn''t the right thing to say, but he couldn''t stop himself. "Why not tie me up like those two?"


    "Because you''re family," Lucette replied, without hesitating. "Ardyn''s blood is our blood. When we first joined together, we made a vow to protect each other no matter the cost. It is an immutable law we hold above all others. The world may crumble, but we shall stand strong ¨C as one."


    He forced himself to relax, integrating that new tidbit of knowledge into his plans. Was wondering why they were giving me so much leeway. They take the ''found family'' thing even farther than I realized.


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    Familial loyalty. An admirable quality.


    And a prime weakness to be exploited.


    "That...sounds nice," Simon replied, as if contemplating the pros and cons. "How much do you get paid per¨C"


    "You aren''t joining us," Relia spat.


    "Relia," Lucette admonished. "He''s¨C"


    "He''s angling to release the cargo. Don''t you see it in his eyes? This fraud of a Cobblestone will shake our hands, swear our vows ¨C then let easy gold walk free like he''d tossed coins down the gutter."


    Ebris frowned at her. "And we''ll be there to stop him," he said, admitting that he was aware of at least part of Simon''s plan. "The boy is young. He doesn''t understand just yet. Remember that it took us some time to grow accustomed to the business as well."


    "But why bother with him? Even if you''re willing to overlook his duplicity, he doesn''t need to stay here and ruin a good thing. He can just go back to being a beggar at Springwater, or whatever he was."


    "You''ve answered your own question. A member of our family ¨C because that''s what he is ¨C deserves better than hunger and poverty. I want to give him a comfortable life while we still can."


    Simon blinked. "...While you still can?"


    The four slavers simultaneously averted their gazes. None of them could look him in the eye.


    A solid five seconds had gone by before Ebris sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Tell me, Simon ¨C did the land around Springwater used to appear more vibrant?"


    He had no idea, though the context was clear. "I think so. It''s tough to remember everything from when I was a kid, but I''m pretty sure there was more green back then."


    "Just so. This may be difficult for you to believe, yet when I was a child, plants weren''t so uncommon as this. When my father was a child, there was even more. When his father was a child...you see where I''m going with this. As the years go by, our land shrivels like fruit baking under the sun. Only one conclusion can be gleaned from this pattern."


    Ebris laced his fingers together, his legs twitching with repressed emotion. "In three decades or less, all life on Valtia''s Severed Isles shall be depleted."


    Simon froze. For a brief moment he forgot about the plan, his mind filled with visions of empty towns and overflowing graveyards. He knew that the purpose of transmigration was to rescue doomed worlds, but hearing a line like that from a Valtian native...kinda hit different.


    "Hold on," he said. "Maybe places like Springwater will disappear, but I thought cities like Caelryn were¨C"


    "Surviving. For now. They choose to ignore what is already transpiring at distant villages, as that is their luxury. By the time this pattern reaches them, it will be too late to reverse it. Duke Helmund will have drained the Severed Isles of every drop of mana and life."


    Duke Helmund. The same ruler that Kirkelas had blamed for Valtia''s decline.


    Apparently, the Demon had been truthful about that much.


    A wry, humorless grin inched up Ebris'' face. "Few people would agree with my conclusion. Openly, at any rate. It is far too harrowing for them to accept. Yet...notice how my compatriots do not raise their voices in dissent. Us four have traveled far and wide while conducting business, and we''ve witnessed what is happening to these lands with our very own eyes."


    His gaze deadened to a look of sunken fatalism. "The pattern cannot be ignored."


    Simon recalled something that Voice-In-The-Sky had foretold. Both an explanation...and a premonition.


    ''Without its champion''s strength, all life on Valtia shall vanish within the span of one year.''


    Ebris was right about the impending apocalypse. He''d just gotten the timeline wrong.


    "Your heart breaks for them," the slaver continued, pointing towards Katarina and Gerold. "I understand. We were like you, once. You imagine the pain they will suffer, and seek to rescue them from their fate."


    He shrugged. It seemed forced. "But what does it matter? They''ll be dead in decades regardless. The man''s best years are behind him, and even if the girl escaped, she wouldn''t live a full life before everything falls apart. They''re worth more as a bag of coins with which to ease our burdens."


    Simon clenched his fists. "Nothing is certain. You said that Duke Helmund is responsible. He''s just a man ¨C he can be stopped."


    Relia burst out laughing. "Just a MAN? By the Ancient One, you are confident in yourself. I''d be envious if it wasn''t so absurd."


    She waved a dismissive hand at him. "By all means. Join the Hurricane. Throw yourself at Helmund like the rest of those suicidal fools. It won''t change anything. Might as well try summoning the rain while you''re at it."


    Looking from person to person, Simon found only stares of pity reflected back at him. They believed he was naive; an uncut stone in the midst of being tempered by the harshness of reality. Without evidence to the contrary, his assertions were seen as no more than deluded ramblings.


    And even if he told them everything he knew...even if he suddenly shot up to Level 1000, teleported to Duke Helmund, and assassinated him on the spot...


    They still wouldn''t change their ways. Not when it had benefited them for so long already.


    Their fatalism was real and genuine. That didn''t mean it wasn''t an excuse.


    "You can''t care for everyone, Simon," Ebris said, his voice low. "Pick some people ¨C then hold onto them with all you''ve got. Forget the rest. They aren''t your concern."


    Simon''s posture sagged. "That''s just how it is?"


    "That''s just how it is."


    Of course.


    He could trick a god. He could defraud a Demon.


    But he couldn''t teach empathy to those who failed to comprehend its value.


    Ebris lightly coughed into his hand. Like a flipped switch, Simon sat up straighter. The signal had been given ¨C it was time to get this show on the road.


    As if things could have ended any other way. He''d known they wouldn''t listen to him. From start to finish, this whole conversation had been an indulgence on his part. It wasn''t necessary for the plan to succeed.


    Yet...he''d needed to try. Ebris and Lucette had earned that much from him.


    "For what it''s worth, I agree with you on one thing." Simon softened his tone. "No one can save everyone. Even if you don''t go out of your way to hurt people, we''re still bound by our inherent limitations. Give one charity a hundred dollars, and that''s money you can''t donate to another. Kindness is often a zero-sum game."


    He glanced over. "And at the end of the day...we all need to make a choice."


    Ebris was in the middle of replying when a summoned longsword slashed his throat open.

 Chapter 7.1

    The Glove of Minor Power. A stolen longsword, produced from Inventory. The element of surprise.


    That was all it took to kill a man six Levels higher.


    Simon froze. Not out of shock or regret ¨C but out of confusion. He had never killed anyone before. Never even hurt anyone outside of schoolyard fights, really. Taking a life should have been momentous, horrifying, world-shattering, soul-altering. It was an act that separated men from monsters. It should have been more difficult, but it just...


    Wasn''t.


    One slice. As if cutting strings.


    Ebris collapsed forward, gurgling, his hand clutching at his ruined throat. A fountain of blood poured outwards, staining the ground with crimson red.


    Some fading dregs of awareness were still present in his eyes, yet they would soon be gone. Simon''s blow had been clean; nearly a decapitation. The slaver''s head was hanging from a mere inch of flesh.


    Lucette and Torben hadn''t moved. They were frozen more stiff than Simon, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Like a pair of deer in the headlights, about to be flattened by an oncoming truck.


    Simon felt no guilt at the sight ¨C intentionally so. Guilt was a distracting indulgence that he couldn''t afford to entertain. He''d already wasted enough time¨C


    Movement. He jerked back, an arrow sailing through the space where his head had been.


    "Knew it," Relia hissed. Her bow was at the ready, aimed directly at his torso. "Knew you were a snake." Without shifting her gaze from Simon, she motioned frantically at Lucette. "Snap out of it! Heal Ebris!"


    ...Heal?


    The thought had barely entered his mind when Lucette abruptly jerked up, nodding. She rushed over to Ebris, her hands beginning to shine with a gentle, soothing glow, reminiscent of the Sanctuary Tree.


    Simon suppressed a spike of anxiety. Lucette knows magic? His strategy had been predicated on the slavers not having access to fantasy-style healing. They hadn''t exhibited magic or mentioned it in any capacity, and he''d searched their carriage for healing potions with Identify, turning up nothing.


    Yet evidently, Lucette could cast healing spells. It just hadn''t come up in conversation.


    He grimaced. No plan survives contact with the enemy, but he''d hoped this one would proceed for a bit longer before hitting snags.


    "Speak." Relia glared at him like he was mud she''d scraped off her boot. "Who put you up to this? Was it another crew? Did you kill Ard¨C"


    Simon summoned one of his broken swords and threw it at Lucette. Ebris'' wound was severe, and attempting to heal him might fail, but there was no point in letting her try. Lucette hurriedly flung herself to the side, unnerved by the sudden projectile and the strange blue glow of Inventory.


    Movement again. Relia was firing another arrow. Simon knew he wouldn''t be able to dodge this one.


    It shot through the air...and grazed past his body.


    She''d missed.


    Simon exhaled with relief, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Just in time.


    "I...huh?" Relia was at a loss for words. Breathing harshly, she glanced at her hands. They were shaking like leaves caught up in a storm. "Why am I..."


    A hacking cough burst forth from her lungs. The archer staggered, then toppled to her knees, the painted red bow slipping from her grasp. Lucette and Torben went down shortly after. Within seconds, the three remaining slavers were immobilized and on the ground, twitching violently.


    "Sorry," Simon told them, almost meaning it. "Couldn''t have won any other way."


    Ebris and Lucette''s carriage housed a wide variety of unique items. Their plundered cargo included ¨C but was not limited to ¨C food, weapons, coins, books, clothes of wildly varying sizes, random knick-knacks, textiles, medicines...


    And a section labeled ''poisons and antidotes''.


    Normally, he couldn''t have snuck deadly poison straight out from under their noses. However, Ebris and Lucette had been kind enough to leave him alone for extended periods of time, letting him cool off after his spat with Relia. Their carriage was also so cluttered that they hadn''t noticed a few missing items among the mess.


    Normally, he wouldn''t have known the correct dosages to use. Identify fixed that. It had informed him of the precise amount to slip into the lunch he''d cooked for everyone. With just the right portions, and added spices to mask the poison''s flavor, they couldn''t even taste the difference.


    Normally, he would have been caught regardless. The slavers were wary folk by nature. However, to Ebris and Lucette, Simon Cobblestone was family...and family was inherently trustworthy. Torben had followed their lead on that. Relia had still been suspicious, but her opinion was overruled by social consensus.


    And besides ¨C even she hadn''t expected him to go this far. What kind of lunatic poisoned a meal, then ate it alongside his intended victims?


    The lunatic with Identify telling him which antidotes to take in advance, Simon mused.


    All things considered, his scheme was proceeding rather smoothly. Nothing could be left to chance when planning to assassinate four higher-Level combatants. He had spent most of last night accounting for as many details as possible.


    Except one.


    "Neu...tra...lize."


    A trembling voice called out. White light radiated in his peripheral vision.


    Already knowing what he would find, Simon turned to face Lucette. The woman rapidly stood to her feet, no longer shaking. The light dissipated from her hands, its task completed.


    Healing magic that can cure poison. Fix wounds too, based on how she tried to help Ebris.


    Immediately, he wanted it. Simon was close to asking how she''d learned magic ¨C when Lucette''s vicious, hateful glare gave him pause. Her eyes blazed with righteous fury as she drew her longsword from its hilt.


    He pursed his lips. Hmm. Yeah. Don''t think playing the ''family'' card is gonna get me out of this one.


    Alert: Ebris Twobreath has been slain!


    Your Level and Stats have increased!


    Level: 3 ¡ú 4


    Strength: 15 ¡ú 17


    Dexterity: 13 ¡ú15


    Simon spared a glance for the crumpled slaver. Ebris'' body had gone completely still, the flow of spilt blood ¨C and his heartbeat ¨C having come to a halt. The poison kicking in hadn''t done him any favors either.


    It was fortuitous timing. Simon had a feeling that he was going to need those four stat points.


    A pained scream tore its way from Lucette''s throat as she charged forward. The slaver advanced, and the transmigrator retreated, hefting his stolen longsword.


    Unfortunately, Voice-In-The-Sky''s system hadn''t granted him any ingrained knowledge of swordsmanship. This was the first day he''d even held a sword that wasn''t broken. The most he could do was emulate stances he''d watched in movies and TV shows, and he knew those were hardly effective in real-world scenarios.


    Lucette''s blade came down like a battering ram. Simon raised his own to block it. His muscles tensed as she pushed him back, barely retaining his balance.


    With that single exchange, he''d confirmed that he was woefully outclassed. Level 8 wasn''t the highest in the world...but it was still double his own. More importantly, while he doubted that the slavers were expert fighters ¨C preying on the weak seemed to be their modus operandi ¨C Lucette was clearly accustomed to wielding a sword. In her hands, it was a weapon.


    Simon may as well have been swinging around a very large stick.


    Putting distance between himself and the rampaging avatar of vengeance in the form of a woman, Simon hastily assessed his options. The Glove of Minor Strength was on cooldown; it couldn''t be used for the next hour. He wouldn''t win a fair swordfight. Lucette had neutralized her poison.


    Stolen story; please report.


    The only card left remaining to him was his demonic arm. It slightly boosted his right arm''s Strength when Shapeshifted, and it would allow access to Demonic Skills like Fell Harvest. With that...he might be able to pull victory from the jaws of defeat.


    However, he was hesitant to reveal it just yet. More than improved Strength or Demonic Skills, what he really valued was the element of surprise. Lucette would be stunned when he shifted his arm¨C perhaps stunned long enough for him to land a proverbial sucker-punch on her.


    But if that failed too? If he didn''t perfectly take advantage of one singular moment?


    Then he would be out of luck and out of options.


    He hurriedly glanced around the battlefield, desperately searching for something to use. Warding Orbs. Limited range on their aura. Lucette is furious ¨C maybe not thinking straight. Could I lure her away from the carriages? Bait her towards Fell Beast territory?


    No. There was no guarantee that a Fell Beast was nearby right now. Even if it was, leading Lucette away from the Warding Orbs would put him in danger as well.


    High risk, with low odds of succeeding.


    His gaze passed over Relia and Torben ¨C then snapped back. Relia was slowly crawling towards her carriage. She looked frail and pathetic, a non-threat. But Torben...


    The man wasn''t breathing. His limbs had contorted in agony, his eyes were bulging, and flecks of spittle dotted his lips.


    Simon shoved down his confusion before it could distract him. Why? he still asked. None of the slavers should have died from just the poison. At least not in such a short time. He had carefully measured smaller dosages so that they couldn''t taste it in their broth.


    Which also had the side benefit of leaving them on the brink of death instead of killing them outright. On the slim, slim chance that they had actually agreed to turn over a new leaf and abandon their slaving ways, he would''ve given them antidotes before they expired.


    Unless ¨C unless Torben had suffered from an unusually adverse reaction to the poison. People''s bodies reacted differently to foreign substances. Identify couldn''t guarantee the same effect for everyone.


    Whoops.


    Although...this could be exactly what he needed. A grin spread across Simon''s face as renewed hope surged through him. Killing a Level 8 enemy was probably sufficient to bring him to Level 5. With Lucette breathing down his neck, avoiding death by mere inches, he waited for new system alerts to pop up and shower him in congratulations and four shiny stat points.


    They never came. He didn''t even feel the sensation of EXP flowing into his body.


    Why. Why. Why. Simon took a second to calm down, splitting his focus between dodging sword strikes and attempting to figure out why the system had stiffed him on some much-needed Experience. It...wasn''t easy. He wouldn''t manage for long.


    Thankfully, the answer came quickly. While it was just a theory, he felt confident chalking up the lack of EXP to an intrinsic function of the gods'' System ¨C a function implemented to prevent their champion from committing atrocities that were beyond the pale.


    After all, if death by poison gave Experience, then the most expedient way of leveling up would be to poison the watering well of every village he came across.


    The gods had wanted a virtuous hero. Not someone incentivized to commit mass-murder.


    Kinda screws me over in the short term, though. Did a previous champion try poisoning towns? Force the gods to add this stipulation? Simon frowned. Loophole abusers ruin everything, thought the man looking for more loopholes to abuse.


    He ducked under a swing that would have effortlessly lopped his head off. Lucette was strong ¨C far moreso than a woman of her stature should be. Her stats and Levels were heightening her physical parameters, just as they did for Simon.


    Was it time to pull out the demon arm? He hasn''t discovered any other viable options. But if he misplayed¨C


    "Why, Simon?!" Lucette took a break from screaming bloody murder at him, remembering that words existed. Not that she took a break from running him down like a heat-seeking missile. That would''ve been much too convenient. "Why did you kill Ebris and poison our crew? Was it truly because we refused to free strangers you''ve never even met before?!"


    No, he thought. I would have killed you anyway. Perhaps they would''ve set Katarina and Gerold free if he''d pressed the issue...but only to appease him. After he left, they''d have returned to kidnapping people and treating them as objects to be sold.


    It was a simple calculus. Setting the captives free would save just these two people in front of him. Killing the slavers saved everyone they would''ve gone on to harm in the future.


    Of course, things would have been different if they''d legitimately agreed to abandon their lifestyle and atone...but Simon hadn''t really viewed that as a possible outcome. They weren''t going to change.


    People rarely did.


    "SPEAK, YOU CRAVEN BETRAYER!" Lucette lunged directly for his heart. Simon dodged sideways, wincing as her strike drew a line of blood across his chest. "EBRIS OFFERED YOU SUCCOR, AND YOU CUT HIS THROAT LIKE NOTHING!"


    Needed to thin the herd. Might have been a problem if all four of you rushed me at once before the poison fully kicked in. And out of everyone here...


    Ebris had lowered his guard when talking. He was also sitting close to Simon at the time ¨C within throat-slicing range. Lastly, he was the highest-Level combatant here.


    Taking him out early was the obvious choice.


    Granted, if Simon had known of Lucette''s healing magic, he would''ve prioritized her instead. You always went for the healer first.


    Lucette being offended over his murder of Ebris was rich, though. They had suggested doing the same thing to a helpless Gerold literally one day prior. The irony hadn''t registered in her mind whatsoever.


    It''s like I never left Earth. Hypocrisy was a universal constant, it seemed.


    "Am I not worth words to you?" Tears welled in the corners of Lucette''s eyes. It didn''t hinder her combat efficacy. "We picked you off the road when you could scarcely walk. Fed you. Saved your life. You were...could have been family. Did all of that mean nothing?"


    "It meant everything."


    Lucette froze. Simon struck forward, seizing the moment, but she casually parried him away. Her skillful blade and stupefied expression made for an almost comedic contrast.


    "Without you, I would be dead," the transmigrator continued, his voice filling with sincere gratitude. "Thank you. From the bottom of my heart."


    It wasn''t a ruse intended to mislead her. Nor was it a taunt, gloating about how he''d fooled them.


    It was merely the truth.


    For reasons that Simon didn''t quite understand, Lucette''s anger re-ignited with roaring fervor, more passionate and unsettling than ever before. She let out a noise of demented rage, the sound echoing up from the abyss of her soul.


    This time she was the one to back up, putting distance between them. Perhaps that change in behavior should have tipped him off to something being wrong.


    By the time he''d stopped being relieved and started being suspicious, it was too late. The woman had extended an arm towards him. Her hand pulsed with a fiery red aura, mana gathering in the center of her palm, the air heating up like a sauna.


    She spoke in an ice-cold whisper as the blazing fury in her eyes became reality.


    "Scorch."

 Chapter 7.2

    It soared faster than Relia''s arrows. Simon raised his sword to block it, but he would''ve had more luck deflecting water with a knife. He could do nothing as the spellcast flames slammed into his chest.


    If he hadn''t been nearly possessed by a demon less than a week ago, he would''ve called this the most painful occurrence of his life. But even with that adjusted frame of reference...it still hurt. It was as if he''d been sunburnt red as a tomato, pressed a curling iron against his torso, then stuck himself in an oven for good measure.


    Skin charred and flesh burnt as the aroma of cooked flesh permeated the crisp noontime air.


    HP: 46 / 90


    Numbers representing his body''s health came to him automatically. The spell had erased close to half his HP in one go.


    With sobering clarity, Simon concluded that if he didn''t do something very soon, he would fall to the next attack.


    My demonic arm...wouldn''t help much here. It was only effective at close range, and Lucette was keeping her distance now, liable to retreat if he moved forward.


    The woman was already charging up another fireball, her eyes dancing with glee as she envisioned him burning like a lit pyre. Apparently, she wished to inflict the agonizing end of immolation on him. Getting stabbed in the heart would''ve been too much of a mercy.


    Need a good ranged option. Don''t have one. He clenched his teeth. Unlike Lucette. She just *had* to know magic, be a mage.


    Why her, and not the rest of us?


    Casting spells didn''t seem to be a matter of academic memorization. There were no complicated hand gestures or long incantations. Lucette seemed to be summoning the latent energy within herself by...concentrating? Visualizing the spell she wanted to create?


    Which implied that magic was ¨C at least on some level ¨C instinctual. A natural talent. Maybe practice still made perfect, but without an inborn aptitude for spellcasting, your efforts at learning it would amount to little more than wasted time. Simon doubted that the other slavers wouldn''t have also learned lifesaving healing magic if it was as simple as ''think really hard''.


    You either had the knack, or you didn''t.


    Simon didn''t. Not once since entering Valtia had he been capable of conjuring even tiny embers, let alone devastating fireballs. Considering his sabotaged transmigration, and how he''d inherited the powers of a weakling nobody, he should have expected as much. It was looking increasingly certain that he would never be a mage.


    And not for a lack of trying. He''d spent a good chunk of his earlier wandering attempting to cast spells, at one point mimicking the exact stance, intonation, and mental focus that Lucette now exhibited. But while it was clearly working for her, he had only¨C


    Oh.


    A flash of insight illuminated his thoughts, and Simon realized where he''d misstepped.


    Lucette appeared to cast spells by drawing from a wellspring of mana inside her body. She would then shape that mana into whatever form she chose, such as bestowing it with curative properties, or heating it into a scorching flame.


    The process had to have limitations ¨C everything did ¨C but overall, it seemed fairly freeform. Spells could be helpful or harmful depending on the intent of the user. Magic was primarily a system of impartial creation.


    Human magic, at any rate.


    Simon had already encountered a different way.


    Oppressive, dominating, and pitiless. An aura of malice and arrogance, bereft of mercy. Imposing desires upon the world. Browbeating reality into submission. Bending the very nature of things to your will.


    That was the magic he''d felt from Kirkelas the Conqueror. The magic of Demons.


    And Simon had inherited their power as well.


    He took off running, sprinting towards Lucette as fast as he could. His right arm Shapeshifted, skin covering with silver-black scales and fingernails transforming into five wicked talons.


    The Fell-Touched human raised his demonic limb and pointed it directly at his prey.


    Who cared if he didn''t have a natural aptitude for magic? Nothing about transmigration was natural. The gods'' system was designed to take random people and turn them into champions by assimilating power from others.


    If Kirkelas had been capable of magic, which he obviously was...then Simon could use it now too.


    He just needed to use it correctly. The transmigrator had tried casting spells before...but in the human way. As if magic was a negotiation with reality, where the user offered up a portion of their MP in exchange for affecting the world around them.


    This time, Simon didn''t negotiate. He didn''t search inwards for mana or visualize a spell.


    He only made his intent known.


    Kill the slaver.


    It wasn''t even a question. He had already subsumed the Conqueror''s power. Demonic magic was his to wield as he saw fit.


    Kill the sinner.


    Let her crimes be punished. The penalty was death.


    Kill Lucette.


    So he decreed, as judge, jury, and executioner.


    The air crackled with a sense of inversion. As Simon ran forward, a pocket of pitch-black energy began coalescing in front of his right arm''s palm. It was as dark as the starry void of the night sky, like entropy given form, seeming to annihilate the space it occupied. Demonic mana had answered his call.


    A grin no less demonic split across his face.


    He pushed the spell to grow stronger. Denser. If this was to carry out his will, then it needed to be better than an insignificant pocket of energy. He demanded that it strengthen further, ordering it to become a black hole large enough to devour the world.


    It didn''t go that far, of course. Simon only had 50 MP work with. But it was the intent that mattered ¨C and the magic responded in kind, the spell doubling in size until his mana reserves had been fully depleted.


    Demonic Skill Gained: Channel Essence!


    Lucette was no longer charging her second fireball. She had frozen the moment his arm shifted. The woman just stood there and watched, astonishment mixing with dread as demonic mana took shape before her widening eyes.


    "Goodbye."


    His voice echoed as his will was made manifest. Simon pushed, and the spell launched forward, erasing the air that it touched. Pitch-black energy rushed at a woman of pitch-black sins.


    And it struck true.


    The final effect was more subdued than Simon had hoped. Rather than his spell blasting through her torso, or simply snuffing the life out of her in an instant, it merely knocked Lucette to the ground. She was pale and gasping for air, yet very much alive.


    A result of his lacking mana, no doubt. He had ordered his spell to Kill, but when empowered by just two digits worth of MP, this was the best it could muster ¨C knocking the target prone and sapping her strength.


    Lucette landed beside Ebris. She let out a strangled cry as she caught sight of his half-decapitated corpse, head lolling to the side like a partially opened blood dispenser, redness oozing out from the gaping hole in his neck. The man''s gaze was vacant, yet the lingering tightness of his face told a story of shock, betrayal, and despair.


    She turned away from him in a panic...then happened to catch sight of Torben, his eyes bulging, foam and spittle dotting his mouth, limbs twisted into a pretzel of torment. Unsurprisingly, that also proved to be mildly distracting.


    Every moment she spent in her own personal horror exhibition was a moment where Simon just kept running forward. His enhanced Dexterity let him close the gap in record time ¨C by his standards, anyway. Although his demonic spell hadn''t outright killed Lucette, it''d still bought him several seconds of time.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    In a fight like this, that was virtually an eternity.


    The slaver wasted even more precious time by staring at his Shapeshifted arm. She seemed transfixed, as if he was a nightmare given flesh. "Can''t be real," the woman whispered, her body trembling with unmitigated fear. "No no no no no NO!"


    Lucette''s whispers rose to a scream. While his demonic magic had left her enervated, she still managed to thrust her longsword forward in a wild, frantic motion. Were she calm, composed, and in full control of her faculties, it would likely have skewered his heart.


    Instead, it stabbed him through the upper thigh. He didn''t let the wound slow his advance.


    "NO! PLEA¨C"


    Simon reached down and grasped her shoulder with his demonic hand. Razor-sharp talons pierced human flesh, clutching her in an unyielding grip. That was when Lucette realized, far too late, that she should''ve just perished to his Kill spell, letting it instantly reduce her to withered husk.


    That would have been a kinder end.


    "Fell Harvest."


    Five seconds.


    The Skill drained Lucette for five excruciating seconds. Simon could see agony plain on her face as the slaver''s mana ¨C her life ¨C flowed out from her body and into his arm.


    Inversely, he had never felt more energized and full of power. Her loss was his gain. More mana suffused his body with each passing second. It was like the joy of progress, yet combined with a cloying sense of nourishment, as if Lucette''s essence was a refreshing drink guzzled through a straw.


    The feeling sickened him. He almost stopped the Harvest as pity flared within.


    Then he remembered Lucette''s crimes, and his pity died a stillborn death in its cradle. After fifteen years of condemning innocent people to a lifetime of servitude and suffering...she could handle five seconds.


    At no point did the slaver struggle. Fell Harvest appeared to immobilize and lock her in place. She could only watch in terror as her life dwindled like a candle burnt down to its last few drops of wax.


    "Mon...ster."


    On the fifth second, the light completely vanished from Lucette''s eyes. Her last word had been one final bit of hypocrisy.


    Fitting, he supposed.


    Alert: Lucette Drenoka has been slain!


    Your Level and Stats have increased!


    Level: 4 ¡ú 5


    Strength: 17 ¡ú 18


    Dexterity: 15 ¡ú16


    Intelligence: 5 ¡ú 7


    A life has been Harvested!


    1 stat point added to Unspent Points!


    Simon immediately dismissed the system notifications. He didn''t have time to think about stat increases, new Skills, or his inevitable freakout over having killed people for the first time. Need to find¨C


    "You''re a Demon."


    His heart sank as he turned to face a familiar voice.


    Relia was standing upright, her bow pointed at him. The woman''s balance looked steady. There was a slight twitch to her hands, but otherwise, little indication remained that she''d recently been on death''s door.


    Took too long to kill Lucette, Simon groused. Although he''d stolen all the antidotes from Ebris and Lucette''s carriage as a precaution, he''d also known from the beginning that Relia''s carriage might have more. It hadn''t changed his plans. The poison should have rendered all of them helpless.


    Except that Lucette had turned out to have healing magic. By neutralizing her own poison and fighting Simon, she''d given Relia time to crawl over to the second carriage and chug some antidotes.


    Honestly, Relia still shouldn''t have been capable of that much movement, but maybe she''d inherently resisted the poison. Like the opposite of Torben''s abnormally adverse reaction. Without access to detailed medical records ¨C or a targeted Identify, which he couldn''t re-use on the slavers ¨C it was impossible to predict exactly how foreign substances would affect people''s bodies.


    Too many unknown variables. As usual, no plan survived contact with the enemy.


    Which was why being able to improvise was just as important.


    "I''m a Demon?" Simon raised his right arm, five blood-soaked talons glimmering in the sunlight. "What gave you that impression?"


    Relia visibly suppressed a shudder. Her hands quivered¨C not from poison, but fear.


    It immediately answered an all-important question: why hadn''t she fired her bow yet? She had also spoken to him while he wasn''t looking, alerting him to her presence. That was a prime opportunity for a sneak attack, and she''d thrown it away.


    Because she''s scared out of her mind. Kirkelas hadn''t been exaggerating about how Demons terrified the native humans of Valtia. Even if she ambushed me...Relia still doesn''t think she could win.


    Funnily enough, Simon didn''t think he could win, either. The slaver was in a very advantageous position. She was uninjured, higher-Level, at a safe distance, and had her bow at the ready.


    In contrast, Simon was heavily wounded from Lucette''s fireball and thigh-stab. He probably couldn''t close the gap before she riddled him with arrows. His MP had been replenished with Fell Harvest, so he could try for another Kill spell, but Relia might just dodge it. Lucette had mostly been hit due to being blindsided by his demonic arm''s reveal.


    The more he thought of it, the less a direct confrontation appealed to him. If he could instead make her surrender, utilize his arm''s intimidation factor to¨C


    "You killed them." Relia''s voice was low. "Ebris. Lucette. Torben."


    Her tone hardened like permafrost. "Ardyn."


    The slaver''s posture straightened ¨C and Simon knew he''d lost her. That glare in her eyes wasn''t one that could be intimidated or reasoned with. She fully expected to die alongside her comrades, her life willingly sacrificed just to make him bleed.


    "Quit pretending to be honorable," he said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "It doesn''t suit you."


    Relia''s grip on her bow tightened.


    Guess we''re doing this, then. Simon prepared to sprint and dodge. Even if he got hit, Transmigrator''s Body would patch him up later. Just had to protect his vitals and¨C


    *Thunk.*


    The noise caught them both off-guard. The sight was even more surprising. Simon skidded to a halt, truly baffled for the first time that day.


    It was with a look of distant, muted shock that Relia reached up to touch the crossbow bolt protruding from inside her forehead.


    "What...why..." Blood leaked down her face. "Can''t...it..." Her words slurred, and her body dropped.


    "...Ardyn..."


    She spoke no more.


    Simon snapped out of it. His head whipped to the side, towards the direction that the bolt had come from.


    There, within the second carriage, was Katarina Cartier. The former prisoner stood free and unbound, holding a now-empty crossbow in her hands ¨C pilfered from the bandits'' treasure trove.


    She didn''t even seem to notice him as she jumped out of the carriage and stalked forward. With unhurried steps, the woman strode up to Relia''s soon-to-be-corpse. Katarina''s eyes shone like two pools of bottomless hatred, long-buried emotions rising to the forefront, mingling with the fresh, raw injustice of the past few days.


    A bestial snarl exploded from her lungs as she kicked her captor in the face.


    "Couldn''t leave us alone, could you?" She kicked again. "COULDN''T JUST LEAVE US ALONE!" Kick. "ALWAYS LIKE THIS! WE TRY GOING SOMEWHERE ELSE, AND YOU TYPES ARE STILL THERE!" Kick. There was a crunch this time. "SO CLOSE TO THE END, SANCTUARY IN VIEW, AND YOU HAD THE GALL TO OFFER FOOD, LOWER OUR GUARD!" She spat on the corpse. Then kicked it for good measure. "TWO-FACED MONSTER¨C"


    Upon shouting the phrase ''two-faced monster'', Katarina froze. Her gaze slowly drifted towards Simon, as if suddenly remembering that he existed.


    He waved his demon arm in greeting. "Hi."


    Katarina made a sound like a dying raccoon.

 Chapter 8.1

    It was with herculean effort that Simon barely managed to stop himself from bursting out laughing. "You want to try redoing that first impression?" he suggested.


    His comment was meant to be lighthearted, something to help break the ice, but Katarina seemed to interpret it differently. The woman paled severely, as if she''d felt footsteps treading on her grave.


    Her eyes immediately snapped down to the crossbow held in her hands. It was empty, its one bolt having been delivered straight into Relia''s cranium. Simon witnessed a hurried, frantic analysis take place within Katarina''s gaze ¨C could she load another bolt and fire in time before he retaliated?


    Prudence won out over valor. She tossed the crossbow onto the ground, sank to her knees, and bowed, adopting a position of deference and respect.


    "You have my thanks for freeing me, Lord Demon." Katarina''s tone sounded impressively even-keeled. If Simon hadn''t been closely paying attention, he might''ve missed the slight tremor in her voice indicating how utterly freaked out she was. "I couldn''t have slaughtered these wretched slavers on my own. Your timely assistance has breathed new life into my...um...life."


    She bowed even deeper. "As a reward befitting this generosity, I pledge loyalty to you, Lord Demon. Your commands are mine to follow. I merely ask that you extend your generous nature to my father as well. If his good health is guaranteed, then I shall be your loyal servant for as long as you desire."


    Several seconds went by without a response. Beads of sweat started running down Katarina''s forehead. Her posture twitched with nervous energy as the silence stretched on uncomfortably.


    It only ended when Simon let out a note of faint disgust. "Ugh. Can you not?"


    Katarina blinked. "Not...what?"


    "Not this." He gestured vaguely at her. "The whole life-debt thing is creeping me out. I didn''t save you so I could get an indentured servant."


    If Simon one day rose to a position of prominence, then he would naturally gain subordinates who obeyed his orders. That was a given. He couldn''t change the world without like-minded people willing to share in his vision of the future.


    But this situation felt different ¨C especially when Katarina had been freed from captivity less than a minute ago. Everything about it was making his skin crawl. The circumstances, the groveling, her blatant fear, offering lifelong servitude...it all just made him feel grimy.


    "How about you try for a third first impression. It can''t go worse than the second." Simon shook his head. "Gotta admit, wasn''t expecting the sycophant routine."


    "...Sycophant?"


    Something in Katarina''s facade cracked as the weight of the past few days seemed to press down on her. "Apologies, my Lord. If I comported myself like a sycophant, it was only to ensure the safety of me and my father. After being kidnapped by slavers, beaten and starved, forgive me for not confronting you with my head held high! It was so uncouth of me to ingratiate myself with you, bowing and scraping so that I wouldn''t have my soul devoured by a poisoning, treasonous, lunatic DEMON!"


    Simon raised an eyebrow.


    "...Uh...my Lord?"


    He snorted with mirth. "Name''s Simon. Don''t call me a Lord before I''ve officially won the title."


    The woman''s eyes narrowed by a fraction. "You...may call me Katarina. Or Kat, if you prefer."


    "Nice to meet you, Katarina." Simon paused. He knew he should let the poor woman off easy, but the temptation to pick her brain was too strong. "Okay, in all seriousness, did you really think I would''ve taken you as a servant even if I was the type to do that? I just saw you shoot your former ''master'' in the head. You would''ve betrayed me in two weeks, max."


    She sighed, then stood up, abandoning her deferential kneeling pose. "Can you blame me for delivering violence to those who seek to steal my freedom?"


    "Oh, no. I respect the hustle. Betray away. I''m simply curious about how arrogant and shortsighted you think I am."


    Subtle embarrassment crept into Katarina''s face. "It was a necessity of the moment. I thought that after slaying your former compatriots, you would come for me and my father next."


    Simon briefly considered explaining that he was a Fell-Touched human, not a Demon. She might regard him with less apprehension if he told her the circumstances behind his Shapeshifted arm.


    But would she believe that story? He wasn''t sure that Fell-Touched humans existed outside of him. Without the gods'' system to help integrate Kirkelas'' demonic mana into his body, he likely would''ve ended that encounter corrupted, possessed, or worse. Claiming that he was a special case may cause him to look even more suspicious than before.


    And most of all...information related to his unique Traits and Skills was priceless. Every detail that Simon revealed was another knot that could be tied into the noose that one day hung him. Why should he divulge his innermost secrets to a stranger who could go around blabbing them to the entirety of Springwater Village?


    Best to keep his origins vague and let Katarina draw her own conclusions. It was a strategy that had worked well-enough so far.


    "For the record, I''ve no intention of hurting you or your father." Throwing her a bone, Simon pointed at the ropes that had once restrained her, now laying in a heap on the carriage floor. "Nice work. Figured I''d have to untie you myself. How did you escape?"


    "A hidden dagger and extensive preparation." Her expression darkened. She kicked Relia''s corpse without looking at it, as if the response was automatic. "Do not mistake my father and I for hapless dullards simply because these reprobates took advantage of our desperation. This is not a scenario that was altogether unexpected. We have trained to escape the confines of a tied rope."


    She rubbed her eyes, bringing attention to the deep, dark circles underneath them. "Feels cruel that the first time we put it into practice would be after leaving Caelryn City. Hoped things would be better out here."


    Simon felt a passing moment of confusion. Hadn''t Lucette described Caelryn City as a great place to live? At least compared to an impoverished, backwater village like Springwater, which Katarina and Gerold appeared to be heading towards.


    Then he remembered who Lucette had actually turned out to be. The city probably was great...for someone of her profession. When she''d spent hours regaling him with cheerful tales of carousing in Caelryn, she''d left out exactly how her spending money was earned.


    He added her stories to the growing pile of once-fond memories that were now tainted and bitter.


    "If it helps," Simon muttered, "they fooled me too. Didn''t know they were slavers until I saw you and your father."


    Katarina''s eyes widened. "You''re...not lying? Then why did they treat you as kin?"


    "I stole a name from a dead friend of theirs."


    She froze, at a loss for words. It was a facial expression that Simon was well-acquainted with. He would say a truthful statement, somehow derail the train of discussion, and others would look at him funny. Useful when attempting to intimidate or disconcert people; less so when it happened unintentionally during casual conversation.


    Mercifully, Katarina had a social backup plan. "Before I forget," she began, gracefully pivoting from his comment. "Setting aside my earlier theatrics ¨C that should and will be forgotten ¨C my gratitude was genuine. While I could have escaped the slavers'' ropes, I couldn''t have killed the four of them and rescued my father without your assistance. Just fleeing on my own would''ve been a tall order."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    A guarded, fragile smile inched upwards. "Even if it was only to further goals that I haven''t yet puzzled out...thank you for helping us. Truly."


    "You''re welcome." Simon allowed himself a smile as well, a kernel of warmth blooming in his chest. "Speaking of your father ¨C shouldn''t you go tend to him? He needs food, water, and medicine. There should be some in Relia''s carriage."


    Katarina did a surprised double-take, glancing first at Gerold, then back to Simon. "I am free to do so?"


    "Please don''t start a repeat of your second first impression. I saved you guys because it was the right thing to do. That''s all."


    She clearly didn''t believe him. That didn''t stop her from rushing over to Gerold, slicing his bindings apart with swift, practiced motions, then dashing into Relia''s carriage in search of supplies.


    Simon left them to it. He walked out of view, knowing that his presence would merely make the two uncomfortable. Should I have Shapeshifted my demonic arm back to normal? he mused. Think it was putting Katarina on edge. She stared at it more than a dozen times during our talk.


    In retrospect, he may have been wrong when he''d said she would betray him within two weeks if forced into servitude. She would''ve wanted to, absolutely, but...when she''d looked at his arm, there was a fear there that hadn''t been present when glaring at the slavers. As if the slavers were a known ¨C albeit hated ¨C quantity, while Demons were something enigmatic and terrible.


    Lucette and Relia had done the same. They''d all gazed at him like he was a horror movie monster come to life. Or in Valtian terms, a monstrosity of legend that had sprang straight from the pages.


    Yeah. It was probably for the best that Katarina and Gerold never see him again. The two of them would patch themselves up, hijack Relia''s carriage, then drive off into the sunset before the scary Demon changed his mind about desiring servants. If they ever thought of him in the future, it would be with relief over having narrowly escaped his clutches.


    He was fine with that. The point of helping people wasn''t to be put on a pedestal and lauded with accolades. Kat''s words of gratitude were already more of a reward than he''d anticipated.


    Well, from her, at any rate. Ebris and Lucette had rewarded him plenty. Taking ownership of their carriage would grant him access to rations, money, weapons, transportation, and a variety of miscellaneous resources and items. Considering that he''d been starving and destitute just one week prior, this was better than he ever could''ve dreamed of.


    All for the low, low price of four murders.


    Simon slowly turned around in a circle. His gaze passed over the bodies of Lucette, Ebris, Relia, and Torben. He closely examined each corpse, refusing to hide from the results of his own actions. These people were dead ¨C because he had decided they should be.


    It wasn''t a choice he regretted, but two of these slavers had saved his life. He wouldn''t be standing here without them. Even if their kindness was built on a lie, it''d still meant something.


    And now that the battle was over...he was free. Free to process everything that had transpired without it being a fatal distraction. Free to experience guilt at having taken lives for the first time. Free to mourn the people who he''d once thought Ebris and Lucette were.


    Before he set off for Springwater Village, this was the time to let his emotions run wild.


    ...


    Aaaaany minute now.


    ...


    Hmm.


    Strange.


    He hadn''t thought he''d go to pieces or anything, but he''d definitely expected more than what he felt right now. The strongest emotion he could muster was a detached sense of disappointment. As if he wished things could''ve turned out differently, even though ¨C realistically speaking ¨C he knew that the slavers'' fates had been sealed the instant he saw Katarina and Gerold tied up in the back of their carriage.


    Still. A sliver of guilt wouldn''t have been out of the question. It was so jarringly absent that he was starting to worry about himself.


    Would he have felt guilty if he''d killed...for example, random bystanders? ''Yes'' was the immediate answer that came from within. Even if it''d happened by accident, innocent deaths would have torn him apart inside.


    But that''s just it, really. Ebris and Lucette weren''t innocent. Far from it. I can *easily* convince myself that they deserved to be killed.


    I can''t convince myself that they deserve to be mourned.


    That was that.


    With a shrug, Simon moved on to other matters. He wasn''t going to force grief or guilt where none existed. That just sounded like vain self-flagellation.


    There was a more pressing issue to attend to ¨C something he hadn''t noticed until mentally reviewing his battles with the slavers. Concentrating, Simon directed his focus inward, bringing up his Character Sheet. He aimed his thoughts at one section in particular, willing it to listen.


    Heroic Valor, he began, addressing the Skill directly. Why didn''t you send me bonus EXP for rescuing Katarina and Gerold?


    It was a longshot. The system hadn''t given any indication that Skills were sentient. Simon was mostly hoping that a random alert or notification would answer his question.


    Yet to his surprise, he started to feel a pulse of emotion resonating from deep inside his mind. The sensation felt similar to when Kirkelas'' magic had influenced him in Caelryn Cave. Except that this was like a friendly neighbor, not a foreign trespasser...and instead of influencing him, it was merely making its presence known.


    Heroic Valor was attempting to communicate with him.


    It took Simon a solid half-minute to comprehend what the Skill was trying to say. Rather than words, it chose to converse solely through pulses of emotion ¨C despite understanding the English language. The distinction seemed purposeful, as if Heroic Valor believed emotions were a purer, more honest form of communication.


    Eventually, though, he managed to parse what it was telling him. And what it told him...made zero sense.


    [No bonus EXP.]


    Simon frowned. Again, why? I''d say that taking down slavers and saving a father-daughter duo counts as a sufficiently heroic deed.


    [You murdered people. Betrayed them. Harvested a soul.]


    Morally, yes.


    [Dude.]


    This won''t be the last time I have to kill someone. There''s no shortage of heartless bastards out there who won''t listen to logic or empathy. Are you telling me that if I come across a true blue tyrant, I should just shake their hand, let bygones be bygones, and politely ask them to stop being evil?


    [...No.]


    Plus, my betrayal was the only way to save Katarina and Gerold ¨C the only way to save everyone who would''ve been enslaved by Lucette''s crew for years and years after. I couldn''t have defeated four higher-Level combatants in a fair fight. Are you telling me to always be honest, even if it causes good people to suffer?


    [No.]


    Furthermore, using Fell Harvest isn''t an inherently evil act. Skills are tools, and no tool is evil; merely the manner in which it is employed. Harvesting enemies will make me stronger, which will give me more leverage to work with, which will open up new opportunities to save people. Think of it as an investment in future heroism.


    [...Fine.]


    Alert: Heroic Valor''s bonus has (begrudgingly) activated!


    For backstabbing and soul-harvesting your way to the moral high ground, you have received bonus EXP!


    Your Level has increased!


    Level: 5 ¡ú 6


    4 stat points added to Unspent Points! Allocate them at will!

 Chapter 8.2

    Simon grinned and gave two thumbs-up. Knew you''d see reason.


    There was no response. Heroic Valor''s emotional pulses were gone.


    Before he had time to contemplate what that meant, a subdued noise of anguish pierced the silence. "Father," Katarina whispered from within Relia''s carriage. "Father ¨C it''s me. Please say something."


    She likely hadn''t intended for him to hear that. Simon almost walked away, not wanting to intrude where he wasn''t welcome.


    But...that note of sorrow in her voice wasn''t something he could ignore.


    Slowly, without making any sudden movements, he stepped into Katarina''s field of vision. She was holding Gerold''s head in her lap, staring down at him with watery eyes. "Everything okay?" Simon asked.


    Katarina recoiled, nearly jumping out of her skin. The former captive looked up at him, then back at Gerold, seeming to come to a decision. "He isn''t recovering," she muttered, sounding at her wit''s end. "Gave food and medicine, but ¨C but he''s still weak."


    "It takes time to recover from malnutrition." Trust me. Speaking from experience. "And his illness would compound that issue as well."


    Tangled red hair twisted back and forth as Katarina shook her head. "This goes beyond that. My father has been sick for some time, and I know his usual symptoms. It''s worse now than ever before."


    She might have a point. Gerold''s body was unmoving, his breaths short and ragged. A sheen of sickness-sweat was visible on his face. It was a far cry from the man Simon had seen just yesterday; as if his condition had been on a precipice, and the slavers'' abuse sent him tumbling over the edge of¨C


    His eyes opened.


    It happened without warning. Katarina flinched as Gerold turned his head towards Simon, seeming to expend all his stored-up energy in one short motion. Despite that, when he addressed the Fell-Touched transmigrator, his words were strong and fierce.


    "Don''t you dare hurt her."


    Then his eyes closed again, and he said no more. The rise and fall of his chest was the only indication that he yet lived.


    Simon felt a sudden flash of respect for the man. Familial protectiveness was an admirable quality...even if the slavers had marginally soured that concept for him.


    Torn between excusing her father''s rudeness and focusing on the immediate situation, Katarina judged that Gerold''s deteriorating condition was a bigger risk to his health than him having potentially insulted a Demon. "Medicine isn''t working anymore," she continued, speaking quickly. "He needs a physician. Or a healer. Springwater should have some."


    Maybe. Simon wasn''t going to crush her last remaining hope, but if Springwater Village really was as much of an isolated backwater as Lucette had described...


    Don''t die, he thought, glancing at Gerold. Not after I just saved you. That''d be a waste. "Take their carriage. The sooner the better."


    Katarina nodded insistently. She rushed towards the Artifact that functioned as the carriage''s engine, ready to set off without delay. Her hand darted forward¨C


    "Wait!"


    Simon yelled, and Katarina froze. The woman sucked in air through her teeth as she looked back. "Yes?" she inquired, with a tone of perfect neutrality. Underneath, she was pensive, as if imagining that the Demon''s shocking yet inevitable betrayal had finally arrived.


    "Not this carriage," he clarified. Simon pointed at the Warding Orbs embedded into the vehicle''s frame. Lucky that I felt like Identifying them just now. "The Orbs'' warding aura will run out in less than 12 hours."


    Katarina''s mouth dropped open. "You''re lying," she blurted.


    "I have no reason to. Relia''s carriage is a deathtrap. You''ll be hunted by Fell Beasts before the day is done. If you heard about Ardyn''s caravan earlier ¨C that''s how he died too."


    He didn''t know what Katarina found in his expression that convinced her, but after several seconds, she belted out a litany of scathing curses directed at the four corpses laying outside. "Ancient One take these addle-brained fools! What kind of roaming band of slavers uses faulty Warding Orbs!?"


    Privately, Simon agreed. Their gang had grown complacent. Fifteen years of successful banditry would do that.


    "We''ll share the other carriage," he offered, before Katarina could work herself up into a panic. "Its Warding Orbs are good for another two years. Let''s grab whatever''s important from Relia''s caravan and get moving."


    "Hold...hold on. How can you sense that the Wards are nearly depleted of sacred mana? Is it because you''re a Demon?"


    Identify was a tool he should keep under wraps. "Sure. Let''s go with that."


    Like clockwork, there it was again ¨C that analytical distrust in her glare as she scrutinized him for duplicity. It was warranted, based on what he knew of Demons, but that didn''t make it any less frustrating. Especially when they were on a timer.


    Simon matched her glare with one of his own. "I''ll be blunt. I don''t need a convoluted scheme to kill you. These suspicions are meaningless. Either accept that my generosity is authentic, or don''t. Your father will be the one who pays the price."


    She had no rebuttal to that. Making a snap decision, Katarina sprinted over to Gerold, motioning for Simon to follow. "Help me carry him. Please."


    He was gracious enough to Shapeshift his arm back to human form before complying.


    The next minute was a frantic blur of activity. Both of them rushed from carriage to carriage, looting everything useful from Relia''s depressingly large cache. While it was useful in the here and now, Simon couldn''t help but spare a thought for what the size of the slavers'' dragon hoard implied. How many people died and suffered so that four sinners could lead lives of luxury?


    Wouldn''t stop him and Katarina from taking advantage, though. Food, water, medicine, vital amenities ¨C all went straight into Lucette and Ebris'' carriage. Non-essential items were left behind. Tempting as it was to grab valuables that might fetch a pretty penny, Gerold couldn''t afford that kind of delay.


    When it came to health emergencies...Simon was extremely aware of what difference a few minutes could make.


    The only moment of hesitation came when Katarina caught sight of Relia''s corpse. Her pace halted as she stared at the crossbow bolt sticking out of the slaver''s forehead, its tip covered in dried blood and exposed brain matter.


    Simon could guess what she was thinking. Identify had mentioned that she''d never killed anyone, even in self-defense. This was her first. It may have been the very definition of a justified kill, but it was still killing. The act of taking a life carved an indelible mark on a person''s psyche.


    At least he assumed it did. Simon wished he could say something to raise Katarina''s spirits, but he wasn''t the guy to talk to about this. Not when he''d already tried to feel guilty ¨C and failed spectacularly.


    He compromised by tapping her shoulder and gesturing at the caravan. "Keep moving. We''re almost done."


    Like waking from a dream, Katarina snapped to attention. She wasted not a second more, hurrying on as if there''d been no pause at all.


    Figured that would do the trick. Mentally processing a life-altering event? Difficult. Smothering complicated emotions under a pile of work?


    Oh so easy.


    By the end of it, Katarina was the one shoving him into Lucette''s carriage. She went for the Artifact before he''d even had the chance to sit down. Thankfully, she knew how to operate it, infusing a line of mana into the diamond-shaped device.


    The Artifact began glowing with yellow-tinted light. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the aura it gave off was one of freedom and adventure. Like riding a horse across grassy plains, the wind flowing through your hair as a sparkling city emerged over the horizon.


    He doubted Springwater would be so grand as that.


    --


    One day passed. Gerold''s condition didn''t improve.


    It also didn''t worsen. That was crucial. The man would survive until they reached Springwater tomorrow.


    Probably.


    Katarina spent the bulk of that first day fussing over him. No expense was spared for her father''s sake. The slavers may have been monsters masquerading in human form, but they''d stocked up well. Food, water, and medicine ¨C the trifecta of a swift recovery, all at her fingertips.


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    Although she was clearly unaccustomed to having a surplus of supplies. Simon had to stop her at one point, explaining that feeding Gerold too much would make him more sick. When working at Grace''s food kitchen, he''d learned that people who''d been subsisting on starvation rations couldn''t handle a full meal right away. Their bodies needed time to adjust to proper portions.


    The fact that she actually listened to him was a victory in and of itself. It showed that he was making progress with her.


    Suspicions and paranoia could only go so far. Katarina had seen him talk down the slavers on multiple occasions, then she was rescued by him, and THEN she detected no signs of treachery in their subsequent conversations. He was building trust step by step, padding his resume with every noble deed.


    Granted, the whole soulsucking Demon thing was a major black mark that hadn''t been forgotten. Yet she still appeared...somewhat at ease spending a two-day carriage ride with him.


    Wonder if I can make her view me as a dependable ally before we go our separate ways. He didn''t know how much longer they would be traveling together, but this was good practice nonetheless.


    And if nothing else, it let them establish enough of a rapport to get some freaking sleep. Neither of them were in any state to pull several all-nighters in a row keeping an eye on each other. Though Katarina certainly tried, jolting in and out of consciousness, the dark circles under her eyes deepening as she fixed a watchful gaze on her Demonic passenger.


    To which Simon waved once and promptly zonked out. With all his planning and anxiety, he''d barely even rested the past night. He couldn''t allow the deficit to worsen. There was a greater than zero chance that Katarina attempted to knife him while he slumbered, yet he deemed it less of a risk than being sleep-deprived in Valtia.


    Luckily, his wary companion stayed on her side of the carriage. The most she did was stare in awe when he awakened eight hours later. His burn and stab wounds had vanished entirely, healed overnight by Transmigrator''s Body. She opened her mouth, about to question him...then closed it, seeming to chalk up his speedy recovery up to Demon stuff.


    After getting some well-deserved shut-eye, the rest of Simon''s time was occupied with Character Sheet experimentation. Attempting to contact Heroic Valor proved to be a bust ¨C the ability remained silent. Mildly dismayed, he bolstered his mood by moving on to a more fruitful topic:


    Channel Essence. The Demonic Skill that had won him his victory against Lucette.


    Channel Essence (Rank 1)


    -Whether by overwhelming force or binding Contacts, the core essence of Demonkind is to exert control. Demonic magic is an extension of that edict. At a cost to your MP, it shall take your will and enforce it upon reality. As your Level increases, and your reserve of mana swells, so too will the effect of channeling essence.


    -This Skill is variable and can take a variety of forms. More types of Channel Essence will be learned as your proficiency with demonic magic grows. The system has split these sub-abilities into separate categories for readability and ease of use.


    Channel Essence: Kill


    -A projectile that instantly kills its target ¨C when provided with sufficient mana. Weaker versions will sap the target''s stamina and willpower. The Skill''s effect may be resisted by those with high Levels or high mana.


    Channel Essence: Barrier [Unlearned]


    -???


    Channel Essence: Landmine [Unlearned]


    -???


    Channel Essence: ??? [Unknown]


    -???


    Simon let out a low whistle as he read through the description. If this was a microcosm of what Demons were capable of, then little wonder they were apparently the boogeymen of Valtia.


    Kill alone was an instant win button under the right circumstances. He didn''t know the exact details of what Barrier and Landmine did yet, but their names were self-explanatory. Learning those sub-Skills would add some needed variety to his available combat options.


    There was also an unknown fourth ability ¨C and nothing said it was the only unknown ability. For all he knew, there could be an infinite number of Channel Essence variants. It almost seemed akin to pseudo-reality manipulation, where the user could do just about anything...as long as they had the mana and power to back up their intent.


    At Simon''s current Level, his capacity to Channel was limited. But once he got stronger? Much, much stronger?


    Surpassing the Demon of Ruination was a very real possibility.


    ...In the distant future. For now, he was stuck trying to learn Barrier and Landmine. Even when channeling mana as he had before, envisioning how the Skills would take shape, and then ordering them to obey his command, neither effect materialized.


    It was likely a result of the change in scenery. Simon first learned Kill in a high-tension battle where he truly, sincerely wanted his opponent to die. That situation had let him forge the spell without a hint of remorse or hesitation. Tapping into Channel Essence seemed to require drawing upon a twisted sense of megalomaniacal authority.


    He couldn''t get into that mindset at the drop of a hat. Not in the comfort and safety of a moving carriage, anyway. How could he form a Barrier without attacks to shield, or place a Landmine without enemies to slay?


    There needed to be an acceptable target. Something he felt justified ¨C felt right in using Demonic Skills on.


    "What are you thinking of?" Katarina suddenly asked. She''d been observing him for some time now. "A Demon''s smile usually portends disaster for those around them."


    I was smiling? "You''ve met other Demons?" he said, answering her question with another question.


    "Well...not so much," she admitted. "Yet the tales are clear. Do not trust Demons. Do not fight Demons. Do not converse with Demons. Do not shelter Demons. Do not break bread with Demons. Do not make deals with Demons. Do not spark the interest of a Demon. And above all else, if you see a Demon, run as fast as you can ¨C and pray that it does not give chase."


    Simon tilted his head. "Think you''ve broken a couple of those tenets already."


    "I''m quite aware, yes." She sighed. "But I''ll take the risk if it keeps my father alive."


    Her fists clenched, and her voice lowered, each word chained by years of unending strife. "We''ve come too far to stop now."


    Simon could respect that. Same as he respected Gerold. Like father, like daughter. I can see where she got her fire from.


    He brushed aside a pang of nostalgia as Katarina looked at him again. "At least answer me this ¨C why were you with that band of slavers?" she queried. "It evidently wasn''t to partake in their...activities. If it was to seize control of their carriage and supplies, then I suppose you''ve done a fine job of that."


    "You''re on the right track," he lied.


    Honesty wasn''t always the best policy. In this case, it would mean informing Katarina that he''d been a starving, penniless, low-Level wanderer rescued from death''s door by Ebris and Lucette.


    As much as she was unnecessarily wary of him, that was preferable to her thinking he wasn''t a threat. People did stupid things when they believed they had the upper hand. He saw no benefit to explaining that he wasn''t a full-blown Demon, or how his Level was significantly lower than what she seemed to assume it was.


    On that note...


    Another question came to mind. It was one that he already knew the answer to. However, the way Katarina responded would be of great significance. Whether she told the truth or lied, either outcome would reveal more about her personality.


    And if she answered in a third, different way...it would reveal even more about the world of Valtia itself.


    Simon had a theory that he needed to confirm.


    "My turn to ask a question." He leaned back, adopting a relaxed demeanor. "What''s your Level at?"


    Katarina stared, frowned ¨C then answered in the third way.


    "Never heard that phrase. What''s a Level?"

 Chapter 9.1

    ''What''s a Level.''


    Simon turned the phrase over in his mind. He felt like he''d learned more about Valtia with those three words than in the entire past week.


    His rushed transmigration had left him with canyon-wide gaps in his understanding of this world. Voice-In-The-Sky hadn''t been given sufficient time to explain things in detail. Aside from describing Valtia as a medieval land of fantasy, nearly everything else was left vague. There were many burning questions that Simon never got the opportunity to ask.


    Chief among them was this: how much of the gods'' RPG-style system had been invented wholesale for their champions? Conversely, which parts of it were offshoots of systems that already existed in Valtia?


    Did the people of this world have access to Levels, stat points, and EXP?


    Simon had been on the fence regarding that theory. The main piece of evidence in its favor was how Identify assigned a Level to whoever he used it on. Level 9 for the Red-Eyed Hunter, Level 5 for Katarina, Level 89 for the Sealed Demon of Ruination, etc. That lined up neatly with how the gods'' system seemed to operate.


    However, Identify had also labeled all of those as Estimated Levels. Why would the system need to make estimates for others when Simon''s Level was clearly defined?


    While it was possible to come up with various excuses to keep the theory alive...the simplest answer was that Levels didn''t even exist in Valtia. The system had merely been eyeballing how much of a threat the Identified targets were.


    Which wasn''t to say that people here couldn''t have strength akin to Levels. Lucette had known actual magic, and she''d been much stronger and faster than a typical woman of her stature. But that didn''t mean her spells were based on Skills, or that her heightened parameters were derived from Levels and stat points. After all, elevated superhumans weren''t uncommon in tales of fantasy.


    Different world, different rules.


    Katarina''s admission just now had been the final nail in the coffin. She didn''t know what a Level was. If RPG game mechanics were a thing in Valtia, everyone would know about them. Their very presence would''ve fundamentally warped the shape of society.


    And not in any good way. Simon could scarcely begin to imagine a culture with instant positive reinforcement for murdering someone. That sounded...rough. He pitied the transmigrators who may have suffered through worlds where Levels and EXP were an intrinsic aspect of reality.


    In hindsight, he didn''t need to ask Katarina in order to confirm his theory. None of Kirkelas, Ebris, or Lucette had ever mentioned Levels, stat points, or EXP. If RPG mechanics were a part of Valtia, then they would''ve been too big of a topic not to come up at least once.


    Yet he had asked ¨C and now the woman was staring at him, impatiently waiting to hear what a Level was. He couldn''t tell her everything, or even close to everything, but he needed to give her some type of answer.


    "You''ve never heard of Levels?" Simon put on a mask of mild surprise, as if she was the one at fault for being ignorant of such a well-known subject. "That''s unexpected."


    Katarina furrowed her brow at him. "Caelryn is the second-largest city in the Severed Isles. If I didn''t hear of Levels there, then the saying can''t be that well-known. Where did you learn of it?"


    "Elsewhere." Time to misdirect. He''d rather she be asking him about Levels than his origin. "It''s a general term for how strong you are. Higher Levels equates to a more powerful combatant. For example ¨C do you think you could''ve beaten any of the four slavers in a one-on-one fight?"


    She sent him an unimpressed, eyes-half-closed look. "Simon, I am trying not to cast undue suspicion upon you, but questions like that make it exceedingly difficult. There are few noble reasons you would have to ask someone who they''re capable of killing."


    "Making conversation? Friendly competition?"


    Katarina barked out a laugh. "More like sizing them up as a target. You may have avoided telling me where you hail from, but if friendly competition is where your mind goes to, then it''s evident you''ve lived a life of luxury."


    She wasn''t wrong. While Simon hadn''t exactly been rich on Earth ¨C especially in the second half of his life ¨C he''d probably lived a more comfortable life than Valtia''s royalty. Electricity? Air conditioning? Supermarkets? Refrigerators? Water taps? All common back home, and all insanely opulent by medieval fantasy standards.


    Before he could attempt to salvage the conversation, Katarina sighed, running her hand through her shoulder-length red hair. "Not that it matters here. We both know you could slay me with ease. If you''re asking me how strong I am anyway, then...is it to accurately gauge how useful I would be as an ally? In case a Fell Beast or another band of slavers attack us."


    Simon nodded. "Correct."


    Thanks for coming up with an explanation. Saves me the trouble.


    This was why Identify was such a massive advantage ¨C no one else seemed to have it. From Katarina''s perspective, he was a Demon to be feared, someone who could effortlessly slaughter a group of bandits and heal from debilitating injuries overnight. She ascribed an inherent degree of competence to his actions, assuming that there was an underlying logic to every decision he made, even if its meaning wasn''t readily apparent to her.


    All of that might''ve gone out of the window if she could use Identify. Simon''s Level 7 was barely higher than Katarina''s. It was certainly lower than whatever concept of him she''d built up in her mind.


    If I pretend to be a full Demon, then I can also pretend to be much stronger than I am. That''ll open a lot of doors for me. And without Identify, most people won''t be willing to call my bluff.


    He shouldn''t introduce himself as a Demon, as he doubted they were even allowed in human society, but if the opportunity arose to Shapeshift his arm during a pivotal moment...yes. That could work nicely.


    "Then I''m sorry to disappoint you," Katrina muttered. Rather than apologetic, her tone sounded bitter and strained, like she was failing to keep long-buried emotions in check. "If enemies come calling, my combat skills will prove to be of little assistance. I couldn''t have defeated a slaver. Not any single one of them."


    Simon raised an eyebrow. Based on their respective Estimated Levels, he''d figured as much ¨C yet he hadn''t anticipated that Katarina would possess such a dire view of herself. People tended to think ''Yeah, I can take them'', even when they really, really couldn''t.


    "What about Torben?" he posited. "As in, the quiet male slaver who captured you with Relia. He looked slightly weaker than the others."


    "Yet he would have beaten me. Unless I caught him unawares, or crept up behind him in the dark, which isn''t what you''re asking. My areas of expertise lay in stealth, thievery...fleeing."


    Her mouth twisted into a self-derisive sneer. "Although that last one is debatable, it seems. Couldn''t have escaped the slavers without your aid. Doubt I would be able to escape a Fell Beast, either. Let alone a Demon such as yourself."


    At that, Simon frowned. "You know I''m not going to follow you after we reach Springwater Village, right? If you want to part ways, then that''s perfectly acceptable."


    "I believe you. That doesn''t change my own helplessness. If you wanted to hold me and my father in the palm of your hand, keeping us like trinkets for your collection, then you could."


    Katarina gripped at the fabric of her worn, roughspun tunic, her hands clenching into fists. "Some people in this world are blessed with money, majesty, or magic. I am not one of them ¨C will never be one of them. My father and I are penniless, the opposite of nobility, and neither of us were born with an affinity for mana. There''s no point in denying our lot in life."


    Think I''m missing a bit of context here. She used the word ''magic'' as if it was interchangeable with ''power''. From what Katarina was saying, some people had a higher affinity for mana...and that resulted in more physical strength? Or they were born with abilities that others lacked? Like how Lucette could cure her poison with magic, while the rest of the slavers were plain out of luck.


    For the hundredth time, Simon gave thanks to the gods'' system. It had granted him an unparalleled capacity for growth. People born without deep pocketbooks or an affinity for mana might never rise above their station, but he was a unique existence; Valtia''s ultimate special snowflake. As long as he continued to survive and improve, nothing was truly out of reach.


    Whereas someone like Katarina is being stonewalled by factors beyond her control.


    Thinking of her in that manner sparked embers of pity in his chest. "You aren''t penniless anymore," Simon pointed out. "Half of this carriage''s stockpile belongs to you."


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    She flinched with shock. "Half?"


    "To the victors go the spoils. We killed the slavers, so we get their stuff. Let''s split everything down the middle. Half for me, half for you and Gerold."


    Her gaze shifted back and forth. The motion seemed ingrained and automatic, as if being offered a favorable deal meant she should check the shadows for knives in the dark. "I only killed one slaver," she mumbled. "And you would''ve slain her without my intervention. And you could take everything here if you wished. What reason¨C"


    "Just say yes," Simon deadpanned.


    His exasperated tone seemed to reach her where honest generosity had failed. "You''re...serious." She drummed ten twitchy fingers on her legs, nervous energy building within. "...No. Too uneven. Invisible strings attached. There must be an exchange. Balance the debt."


    "Don''t try to slit my throat as I sleep, and we''ll call it square."


    Katarina froze. Slowly, something resembling a smile snuck onto her face. "Well. A fair deal, I''d say."


    --


    They reached Springwater Village one day later.


    The carriage''s Artifact ¨C titled the Navigation Crystal ¨C did all the hard work for them. According to Katarina, it was attuned to notable locations and landmarks across Valtia, and could even remember places that it had visited before. With the roads clear and empty, and the carriage utilizing an autopilot that put self-driving cars to shame, their ride was a straight shot to Springwater.


    As soon as the impoverished village crested over the horizon, Katarina tensed up, as if just now recalling a matter of importance. "Two issues to discuss," she hurriedly said, turning to face Simon.


    He side-eyed their rapidly approaching destination. "Couldn''t have done this earlier?"


    "Was distracted by my father." She breathed in, gathering her resolve. "I seek to strike an accord with you."


    "Oh?" Simon laced his fingers together, adopting the posture and countenance of a scheming Saturday morning cartoon villain. It wasn''t necessary, but it was fun. "What sort of accord?"


    "The slavers mentioned that Springwater is going through troubles ¨C more troubles than usual. Hard times make for desperate people. To hungry vultures, my father and I will appear as feasts to be devoured."


    Katarina hardened her gaze. "I would like to petition for your protection. At least until I''ve brought my father to a physician. In exchange, I shall¨C"


    Simon held up a hand. "I''ll set my own terms, thanks." In truth, he''d be fine with escorting them for free, but this was a good opportunity to set some ground rules. "If you desire my protection, then you must agree to a vow of secrecy. Don''t tell anyone in Springwater that I''m a Demon. Not a soul. It would make things...rather inconvenient for the three of us."


    "Huh? I wouldn''t have revealed your nature regardle¨C nevermind!" Wearing an expression of pure befuddlement, Katarina hastily cut herself off before she could torpedo her own negotiating position. "That is truly all you require?"


    "Correct."


    She blinked, then nodded, having finally learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth. "I agree to your terms. Thank you."


    Seconds passed. Katarina stared at him. A companionable silence gradually turned pensive.


    Far too late, Simon realized that she was waiting on him. "What is it?" he asked.


    "Aren''t you going to initiate a Contract? That''s what happens in all the stories."


    Ah. Memories surged to the forefront of Kirkelas writing black-scrawled words in mid-air. Right. Contracts. The binding vows that were apparently a Demon''s bread-and-butter.


    And which Simon couldn''t do ¨C yet ¨C because he wasn''t actually a Demon. He''d experimented with forming a basic Contract using Channel Energy, but it seemed incompatible with that particular brand of magic. Maybe he would learn a specialized Contract ability later down the line, but for now it eluded him.


    "Is there any need?" He shrugged, affecting an air of nonchalance. "We''ve done without Contracts until now."


    "...That we have."


    Katarina stared at him once again. This time, her gaze wasn''t wary, fearful, or pensive ¨C it was piercing, analytical, as if reviewing every spoken word and action taken since the moment they''d met. She didn''t know what was wrong with him, but she knew something was.


    For several long seconds that put Simon''s poker face to the test, he felt genuinely worried that she was about to figure him out.


    Then her eyes shifted to his right arm. It was in human form, not currently Shapeshifted...but the sight of his silver-black scales and taloned fingers wouldn''t be forgotten anytime soon.


    Just like that, the spell was broken. Katarina''s piercing gaze dulled to a sort of resigned acceptance. While she knew that Simon didn''t fit the mold of a typical Demon, she didn''t have the evidence to prove what that meant. And even if she did, where would that get her? Earning the ire of a prospective ally? Better to let sleeping dogs lie and take her victories where she could.


    It was a look that Simon was intimately familiar with. He''d seen it all the time in foster care.


    "Then we go without Contracts," she murmured. "Yet there is still the second issue to discuss. A dilemma that will afflict us both."


    Katarina swept her arm around the carriage interior, gesturing at their piles of plunder. "Unlike Caelryn City, I doubt that Springwater Village has secure accommodations for housing caravans. If we leave our valuables alone and unguarded, someone else will come along to keep them company."


    "You think people will rob our carriage in the time it takes for one doctor''s visit?"


    "No." Her lips curled into a wry smirk. "They''d rob it in a quarter of that time. Or merely activate the Navigation Crystal and set off for brighter pastures. It''s what I would''ve done."


    "Makes sense." Simon pointed at the glowing Artifact. "So we bring that with us ¨C and the spare Navigation Crystal we looted from Relia''s carriage. Those are the most important things here. We''ll bring other high-priority items as well. Leave whatever we can do without. Would suck if people rob our carriage anyway, but Gerold takes priority."


    "Agreed on my father taking priority, but I must oppose the notion of carrying priceless Artifacts in a destitute village. Even if we hide the Crystals on our person, some keen-eyed watchers will notice."


    She folded her arms over her chest. "And then they''ll ambush us ¨C with the intent to kill. Just one Navigation Crystal could alter the course of someone''s future. There''s no shortage of people out there who would condemn a dozen nameless others to better their own livelihood."


    Is that also what you would''ve done? Simon almost asked, restraining himself at the last moment. They''d nearly arrived at Springwater, and it would be an inefficient use of time to remind Katarina that she''d recently graduated from the Valtia School of Hard Knocks, going from non-killer to killer.


    "Fair point." Rummaging through the assorted items, he found the spare Navigation Crystal that they''d taken from Relia''s carriage. "I''ll just have to hide our stuff in a place that prying eyes can''t see."


    Katarina''s response morphed into a choking gasp as the light of Inventory swallowed the Crystal.


    Simon whistled merrily as he canvassed the carriage, picking out their most treasured items like he was shopping at a department store. Sparkling gold coins? Inventory. Pristine new weapons? Inventory. Food and water rations? Straight to Inventory. Malnourishment was something he intended to never experience again. Inventory''s storage space was pretty generous, so he had plenty of room to work with.


    Let''s see...guess I don''t need these anymore. To free up space, Simon dumped a heap of rusted blades and armor on the floor. He gave one last salute to the collection of junk, honoring the skeleton crew of Caelryn Cave for their sacrifice. That should let me slot in the remaining poisons and antidotes. I''ll keep Stuart''s meat in case of emergency, though. Oooh, right, portable Warding Orbs! Gotta grab¨C


    "What."


    It was less of a question and more of an utterance. Simon glanced over at Katarina, finding her in a state of exhausted disbelief, as if she was tired of being shocked in new and creative ways.


    Belatedly, Simon remembered that he hadn''t used Inventory in front of her since killing Ebris. And with how chaotic that moment had been, she could''ve easily interpreted it as him producing a hidden blade from his sleeve. She looked at him now with eyes pleading for an explanation, the dark circles underneath them seeming to deepen by the second.


    He raised his right arm ¨C still in human form ¨C and waggled his fingers. "Demon magic."


    Katarina declined to comment.

 Chapter 9.2

    Springwater Village was everything Simon had anticipated.


    Unfortunately.


    It reminded him of pictures he''d seen on Earth of distantly rural towns that were disconnected from society at large. Places so forgotten that they were an afterthought in the grand scheme of things, growing poorer and more isolated with each generation.


    If you took one of those towns, tripled its poverty rates, aged its infrastructure by several hundred years, and themed it like a medieval fantasy story...then you got Springwater. Every building he walked past was dirty, ancient, and practically on the verge of collapse. They probably would''ve crumbled to dust if someone leaned on them the wrong way.


    Springwater''s people weren''t any better-off. All of them were underfed and in need of a proper meal. Many, many proper meals. It stoked Simon''s guilt in a distressingly personal manner, bringing up memories of Grace''s soup kitchen, watching tears brim as people ate decently for the first time in god knows how long.


    A small part of him wanted to eject his rations out of Inventory and onto the street for these people to share. A larger part of him rattled off an extensive list of reasons as to why that would be a bad idea ¨C especially when trying to move quickly and quietly. The smaller part heeded the larger part''s advice, but it wasn''t happy about it.


    Going hand-in-hand with the malnutrition epidemic, Springwater''s fashion sense could be summed up as ''whatever was available''. While Simon''s initial Valtian outfit had felt coarse and threadbare, he''d been dressed to the nines compared to the average person here. There were more people in rags than otherwise.


    He was starting to regret donning the garments he''d lifted from Ebris and Lucette''s caravan. Not because it had belonged to slavers ¨C waste not, want not ¨C but because its finer quality marked him as an Other to the citizens of Springwater. Even with his true valuables stashed safely within Inventory, the instant that anyone in Springwater looked at him or Katarina, they could tell that these two unfamiliar faces had wealth.


    To an extent. Owning a carriage and nice clothes was like a drop in the bucket when measured against the overwhelming affluence of nobility. But for the residents of Springwater, that one drop may have been more than they''d drank all week.


    Most people turned away upon noticing his group, correctly assuming that getting involved with unknown, strangely-dressed newcomers would lead to a mountain of headaches. But some...they didn''t avert their eyes.


    They kept staring.


    It made the simple act of walking through public streets feel like stepping across a minefield. Needing to tote an unconscious Gerold on their shoulders didn''t help. Simon and Katarina had asked for directions to cut down on aimless wandering, but the nearest physician''s clinic was still a fifteen minute hike away.


    Which meant fifteen minutes of vulnerability. Of constantly peering around for whoever appeared overly interested in their trio. Scrutinizing each individual passerby as if they were a lurking threat.


    Tasks that Katarina immediately demonstrated considerable experience with. Simon did his best to keep an eye out, but it soon became apparent that if he''d been by himself, he would''ve wasted too much time deciding whether people''s curious glances were innocuous or sinister. He wouldn''t have caught the ones they should truly be worried about ¨C malefactors who were skilled at feigning disinterest while simultaneously plotting against him.


    Katarina picked out those types like they were emblazoned with bright neon arrows. She glared daggers at them, forcing the would-be muggers to swiftly back down. Her gaze was more effective than if she''d pulled out actual daggers; a look of unhinged desperation that just dared them to try taking this bit of hard-won comfort from her.


    Simon didn''t have the heart to do the same. Not when the weight of his own inaction was pressing down on him.


    After witnessing thousands of people struggling to get by, right before his very eyes...he was already calculating how much of his resources he could justify parting with.


    I don''t need *everything* in the carriage. Only enough to establish myself somewhere ¨C buy a house in a city of influence. Maybe selling the spare Navigation Crystal would suffice? Excess funds and supplies can go to those in Springwater that need it most.


    Logically, he was aware that startup capital was vastly important. Each coin he frittered away on charity would set his plans back by a measurable degree. Some of that might be recouped via Heroic Valor''s bonus EXP, but he honestly doubted it would be commensurate to his losses.


    The arguments came easily. I transmigrated here to save Valtia from destined annihilation. A godlike figure confirmed that this world is dead in a year or less. Even some of the locals believed that they only had a couple decades left before society collapsed. By that metric, I literally can''t afford to spend money on random people when ALL of my efforts should go towards averting the apocalypse.


    But did that mean ignoring those suffering right in front of him? Did lofty goals supersede individual misery?


    Earlier, Katarina had told him that one Navigation Crystal could alter the course of someone''s future. She was right ¨C but change didn''t need to be so grand as that to have an effect. He''d seen it firsthand on Earth. Although chronically underutilized, basic acts of charity had the potential to be transformative.


    A few coins...a proper meal...just a single gesture of kindness...


    That was all it took to get some people back on their feet.


    Simon shook his head in a harsh motion, dispelling his wayward thoughts. This is too complicated of a decision to make when I''m obviously emotionally compromised. One thing at a time. First we get Gerold to a doctor, then I start assessing my plans moving forward.


    If all else failed, and he wanted to help people without hurting his long-term prospects...he could always default to Valtia''s new infinite money glitch: finding more slavers and cracking their skulls open like pi?atas. As their blood flowed, so would Simon''s stream of revenue. Funds, supplies, and EXP ¨C his for the taking.


    Caelryn City would be a good place to start. He should pay Lucette''s other friends a visit one day. Inform them of her tragic demise via a rampaging Fell Beast. Offer to buy them rounds at the local bar.


    There was probably poison that became tasteless when mixed with alcohol.


    --


    The rest of their walk was mercifully uneventful. Katarina''s death glares kept the vultures at bay. In truth, navigating through Springwater turned out to be a bigger challenge ¨C outside of one bone-dry fountain in the center of a plaza, the village didn''t have much in the way of notable landmarks.


    Nevertheless, they made good time. Not making good time wasn''t an option. Less than ten minutes later, Simon and Katarina found themselves standing before an old building with the word ''Physician'' etched into a wooden frame above its door.


    Either this was a highly-elaborate trap, or they''d arrived at their destination. And if it was the former...Simon would almost be impressed at the trap-setter''s ruthless ingenuity. Targeting newcomers to Springwater? Preying on distressed travelers with sick relatives? Directing them to a fake health clinic?


    Well played, really.


    He didn''t even have the chance to Identify the building before Katarina urged him onward. She all but kicked down the front door, ferrying Gerold inside with equal parts hurry and care. "We require assistance!" she called out, raising her voice. "My fath¨C"


    Both of them stopped in their tracks. The first thought that came to Simon was that if this somehow was a false health clinic, the deceivers had seriously gone the extra mile.


    It would''ve taken a lot of money to hire dozens of grievously wounded actors.


    Springwater''s clinic was chock-full of moaning, bleeding patients. Many of them had jagged rocks sticking out of their flesh. Some were missing limbs. Several were completely motionless, so silent and unmoving that it was impossible to tell if they were still alive.


    An aroma of creeping death was starting to permeate the air.


    I *did* see the occasional bloodstain on the road leading here, Simon recalled. Like a trail of fresh red breadcrumbs. Guess these people were brought in recently. After they...


    Went to war, presumably. His mind conjured an image of Springwater''s muggers leaping from the shadows, knives at the ready, yet that couldn''t be right. Identify had informed him that the bloodstains weren''t a result of criminal activity. It was why he hadn''t told Katarina to turn back.


    But if not that, then...what happened?


    He knew one way to find out. Choosing a patient at random, he cast Identify once more.


    Name: Harland Grave


    Description: A lifelong citizen of Springwater Village. Has fallen on hard times ¨C much like everyone else there. However, just because you''ve fallen on hard times doesn''t mean you''ve hit rock bottom, which this day plainly exhibited. Was severely injured alongside his compatriots.


    Estimated Level: 1 (6 when healthy)


    Not a detailed answer. Which meant that there was an angle he wasn''t considering. Identify couldn''t reveal information that contradicted his implicit beliefs.


    Blood on the road, Simon mused. I think the first time I saw it was fairly close to the fountain. And Identify mentioned that these other injured people were Harland''s ''compatriots''. So they joined together, then set out to do...what? An uprising or riot of some sort?


    Using Identify on Harland again would show the same Description, but there were plenty of other patients to choose from. Simon picked a woman laying in the bed next to him.


    Name: Serena Evergreen


    Description: A lifelong citizen of Springwater Village. Has fallen on hard times ¨C much like everyone else there. Severely injured alongside her compatriots. Their cause was not an uprising or riot. It was wholeheartedly supported by the entire village. Alas, it failed.


    Estimated Level: 1 (7 when healthy)


    The *entire* village supported them. So they didn''t attack ¨C or get attacked ¨C by anyone within Springwater. Maybe an external bandit raid? Or Fell Beasts congregating outside the village?


    Next patient. Identify.


    Name: Celica Bhassor


    Description: Not a bandit raid. Not Fell Beasts located outside Springwater.


    Estimated Level: 1 (6 when healthy)


    It didn''t even write out the rest of the Description this time.


    Simon was beginning to feel mildly frustrated. He wouldn''t run out of patients to Identify anytime soon ¨C which was a tad morbid ¨C but no one enjoyed having an answer on the tip of their tongue, dancing just out of reach.


    What am I missing? Has to be something that I wouldn''t have guessed with the information I have now. If I take my knowledge of Valtia and intentionally subvert it, then...


    His eyes widened.


    Patient #4. Identify.


    Name: Oliver Arvina


    Description: He and his compatriots were brutalized by a lone Fell Beast located inside Springwater Village. The Beast still resides here now.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Estimated Level: 1 (5 when healthy)


    Simon had seen the perimeter of Springwater. The village''s border was absolutely packed with Warding Orbs. Those Artifacts, imbued with what Katarina had called ''sacred mana'', were the lynchpin that made it possible for civilization to exist in Valtia at all. Even at a poverty-stricken settlement like this, no expense was spared to ensure protection from Fell Beasts.


    And it still hadn''t been enough.


    He was jarred from his ruminations by someone fast approaching. The man looked to be in his early 60s, with a thinning hairline and deep stress-wrinkles engraved onto his face. By his bloodstained attire yet lack of visible injuries, Simon clocked him as the resident physician.


    "Who''s injured?" the man asked, in a gruff, fatigued voice. He jabbed a gnarled finger at Gerold. "Him?"


    Katarina nodded insistently. "My father, yes. Although not injured. He''s sick and in need of..."


    She trailed off. Her insistence faltered as she glanced around the room of maimed and dying patients, wincing at what she was about to say. "...In need of immediate assistance."


    The physician narrowed his eyes. "What''s he sick of?"


    "We''re not sure. Couldn''t afford a full examination until now. My father has endured by taking all-purpose medicine infused with mana and¨C"


    "He gonna die soon?"


    Katarina appeared taken aback. "He ¨C he''s been holding on for the past few days."


    "Then he can keep for another few." With a dismissive gesture, the physician waved at an empty bed in the corner of his clinic. "Put him there. Contact me if his condition worsens or his heart stops."


    As he turned and walked away, Katarina stood still...briefly. Like gasoline lit by a match, her shock rapidly intensified into boiling wrath. Teeth bared, hand reaching for the knife hidden in her sleeve, she stepped forward¨C


    Simon pulled her back by the shoulder. "Don''t," he cautioned.


    "Don''t?" She nearly snarled at him, any semblance of fear she may have had for the ''Demon'' now overruled by a swelling fury. "He disregarded my father''s life as if it was nothing!"


    "Yeah, he''s a prick. He''s also the only physician in Springwater." There weren''t any magic healers like Lucette, either. They''d asked. "We can''t get on his bad side."


    Katarina''s eye twitched. "Yes, because that awful man is being of such great help right now."


    Simon waited a moment to reply, taking care to avoid shoving his foot in his mouth. "The physician will attend to your father after assisting everyone whose life is at immediate risk. We have enough medicine in stock to keep Gerold going for another couple days. He''ll survive ¨C that, I promise you."


    Nailed it. That sounded much more diplomatic then ''Don''t people in this world know about the triage system?'', which had been his kneejerk response. While he hated that Gerold''s life was being jeopardized by bad luck and poor circumstances...if Simon were in the doctor''s shoes, he wouldn''t have changed course either.


    Getting mauled by a Fell Beast took priority over an unknown illness that was, for the moment, stable.


    Katarina screwed her eyes shut. "I know." She exhaled, letting out her rage in a long, drawn-out breath. "You''re right. I know. I know. It''s just...he''s my..."


    "He''s your father," Simon finished, his tone gentle. "This just shows that you love him. For now, though, let''s stay calm and¨C"


    He stopped mid-sentence, catching something at the edge of his peripheral vision.


    "Hey." Simon whirled around, stomping towards the physician. "You." His voice could have been carved from granite. "What exactly are you doing?"


    The physician paused. He stared at the transmigrator with a look of utter confusion, his hands ¨C his red, bloodsoaked hands ¨C hovering over an unconscious woman sporting a nasty torso wound. "About to remove an embedded claw," he said. "The Beast got her good. Left a gift. Afterwards, I''ll apply mana tinctures, sew her back up."


    Simon grimaced. "Without washing your hands first?"


    "Why would I?"


    ...Right.


    Valtia doesn''t have germ theory.


    On Earth, it was common knowledge. Something taught to grade-schoolers. But in the context of humanity''s many millennia of existence, widespread germ theory was less than two centuries old ¨C a mere blink in history''s eye.


    Health practices were dire for most of those millennia, too. Simon distinctly remembered reading about a period in 1800s-era Britain where giving birth at a hospital had a higher infant mortality rate than staying home. The primary cause?


    Infection. From doctors not washing their hands or surgical tools after operating on other patients.


    Slow down, Simon told himself. Valtia isn''t Earth. Things could be different here. Mana might make people sturdier, for one. Verify your information before causing a scene. You also just walked through streets of starving, impoverished people ¨C it''s possible that you''re still emotionally compromised, and are looking for a problem to solve where there is none.


    Hoping that he was overreacting, he cast Identify on the physician.


    Name: Jonathan Berg


    Description: A trusted physician who has been assisting people in Springwater Village for years. Well-regarded, and is typically a cordial fellow, but the events of today have pushed his bedside manner to the breaking point. Extremely competent...for a man taught by Valtia''s limited pool of knowledge. As it stands, his icky, sticky hands are going to infect and kill at least half of his remaining patients. Fell Beast residue isn''t the best thing to share between injured people.


    Estimated Level: 8


    Okay.


    Cognizant of Katarina and the physician eyeing him, Simon spoke with the most agreeable tone in his repertoire. "Could you please wash your hands before continuing?" he proposed. "I''ve heard that it improves the patient''s chance of recovery. Doesn''t need to be much. Just take a cloth, wet it, and scrub until there isn''t blood on your skin."


    Gloves and disinfectant would also be appreciated, but hey. Baby steps.


    The physician ¨C Jonathan ¨C glared. Something in his gaze seemed to twist imperceptibly. "You want me...to cleanse my hands?"


    "Ideally, yes. Is there¨C"


    "With water?!"


    He said it loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of the room. One half-dead patient cracked their eyes open, resurrected by the intoxicating allure of drama.


    "Have I offended you?" Simon kept that same agreeable tone, wondering what context he''d missed this time. "If so, I apologize. I''m merely attempting to help."


    "May the Ancient One take these Fell-cursed outsiders," Jonathan ranted, as if he hadn''t heard a word that Simon said. "Sauntering in here, demanding aid for an uninjured man, asking me to waste water on frivolous nonsense!"


    ...The fountain in the village plaza was dry. It hasn''t rained at all since I came to Valtia. And at one point, I recall Relia saying: ''Might as well try summoning the rain while you''re at it.'' Like the concept of rainfall was a fanciful dream.


    Simon pivoted, injecting a note of urgency into his vote. "I have water," he explained. "I''ll give some to you. In exchange, use a fraction of it to wash your hands and tools before operating on patients. You can keep what''s left over. Is that fair?"


    It was more than fair. As far as trades went, this one was grossly lopsided. Jonathon rightfully should''ve taken it in a heartbeat.


    Should have.


    The reason Simon remembered that factoid about hospitals in 1800s-era Britain wasn''t because of their poor health conditions. History is rife with doctors throwing medical procedures at the wall and rolling with whatever appeared to stick. It''s unsurprising that people didn''t yet know the importance of disinfecting and washing their hands.


    Except that someone had told them to.


    A man by the name of Ignaz Semmelweis discovered that cleansing himself before procedures significantly decreased the rate of infant mortality. His findings were consistent and replicable. Semmelweis then took what he''d learned and presented it to the wider medical community, arguing strongly for reform.


    He was opposed just as strongly. In fact, some doctors made a point to wash their hands less. As a form of protest. A gentleman''s hands, they claimed, were always clean.


    It took them decades to change their ways.


    That was why Simon remembered this tiny slice of history. Tens of thousands of infants and mothers ¨C dead, because of pigheaded obstinance. Because people felt insulted at being told they were wrong. Because it was easier to adhere to tradition.


    Because they simply couldn''t be bothered.


    "I''ve been a physician in Springwater for all my life," Jonathan began. He drew himself up, posture straightening, as if his sense of pride was a steel rod inserted into his spine. "Could''ve moved to a city, lived comfortably, but I chose here. It was where people needed me most. Without my aid, hundreds would be dead."


    He fixed Simon with an imposing glare. "Who are you, outsider, to tell me how to save lives?"


    "That isn''t what¨C"


    "And you''re offering water for free?" Jonathan sneered. "If you and your lover are so wealthy as that, then why couldn''t she afford a full medical examination for her father? I don''t know what con you''re trying to pull, outsider, but no resident of Springwater is foolish enough to fall for a story so riddled with holes. We''ve already had our fill of moneyed folk coming in and thinking they''re our betters."


    The physician turned away. "Go take a seat before I lose my patience. I''ll see the girl''s father when I''m good and ready...assuming he''s even sick at all."


    Simon remained silent. He clasped his hands together, fingernails digging into palms, almost drawing blood. An itch was crawling around his shoulder blades.


    Hmm.


    So. After trudging through the dismal, depressing streets of Springwater, ignoring people in need so he could reach the clinic as soon as possible...he was supposed to go wait in the corner. Watch Jonathan stick his filth-encrusted hands into dozens of people''s bodies. Understand that the majority of them were being condemned to death right then and there.


    And do nothing.


    Hmmmmm.


    Simon''s mouth broadened into a smile.


    For a fleeting moment, he considered unsheathing his longsword and pressing it against the physician''s throat. But, no, that wouldn''t work. Others would go call for help ¨C protecting the village doctor is a communal interest ¨C and Simon would be summarily overrun by virtuous interlopers.


    He was only one human, after all. If he wished to make a threat with real impact, the kind where people would actively avoid getting involved, then it couldn''t just be worrisome.


    It needed to be terrifying.


    In that case¨C


    Everyone froze.


    Jonathan froze. The patients froze. Katarina froze...although she seemed conflicted, unsure whether she wanted to hold her head in her hands or use them to throttle Simon.


    Who was now holding his Shapeshifted demon arm at the physician''s neck, five wicked talons lovingly wrapped around the man''s windpipe.


    "Wash your hands. Pretty please."

 Chapter 10.1

    Simon was feeling rather pleased with himself ¨C although he knew he probably shouldn''t be.


    In fairness, threatening Jonathan had worked like a charm. The physician took one look at Simon''s demonic arm and capitulated on the spot. Based on his bulging eyes and how his expression morphed into a rictus of despair, he would''ve agreed to just about anything.


    Which made the ''negotiations'' that followed somewhat awkward.


    No, Simon wasn''t interested in pressing people into a lifetime of servitude. No, Gerold didn''t need to be bumped up the waiting list. Yes, it was fine for Jonathan to continue helping patients who required immediate care.


    Yes, Simon just wanted the man to wash his freaking hands before each procedure. Yes, the offer of free water was still valid. No, Simon didn''t have to go grab it from somewhere else. Yes, the blue glow that he produced water from was unspecified demon magic.


    No, his magic wasn''t going to corrupt everyone in the room and turn them into mindless, slavering automatons. Didn''t even know Demons could do that.


    It took Simon five seconds to explain his terms and five minutes to reassure Jonathan. The man only went back to doctoring when it was pointed out that some of his patients were currently bleeding to death. He made sure to thoroughly cleanse his hands first, repeatedly glancing over at the transmigrator''s Shapeshifted arm, as if seeking approval for every minor action.


    Interestingly enough, none of the Valtian natives in the room ¨C not even the ones waiting on urgent care ¨C appeared to judge the physician for his bowing and scraping. If anything, they seemed relieved that the negotiations hadn''t ended in more dead bodies. A couple of them were pretending to be dead bodies, like scared rodents playing possum.


    The only hiccup came when one patient attempted to escape the clinic. She would''ve gotten farther if she wasn''t missing two legs and an eye, but Simon admired her gumption nonetheless. Alas, that kind of behavior couldn''t be encouraged, so he was forced to tie her to a bed and barricade the front door with medicine cabinets.


    Best not to alert all of Springwater to the Demon in their midst just yet.


    After that, it was smooth sailing. Jonathan''s operations went off without a hitch. Using Identify on the patients confirmed that their probability of infection had decreased significantly.


    Not as much as if there''d been access to Earth-grade disinfectant, but Simon was no miracle worker. His intervention had already saved dozens of lives. He was more than happy with the results.


    For now.


    Because in the back of his mind, that little voice named Responsibility was warning him of the impending...complications.


    The voice gradually loudened under Katarina''s persistent, watchful gaze. She hadn''t stopped glaring at him for the past forty minutes. It got to the point where he felt compelled to pull her aside so they could speak privately, asking the red-haired woman what was on her mind.


    "Oh, nothing," she remarked, in a tone that indicated he would be a fool for believing her. "I am merely...observing. This entire debacle has been quite informative."


    "How so?"


    Katarina raised an eyebrow that spoke volumes. "For one ¨C I didn''t know you possessed such a temper."


    Simon countered her raised eyebrow with two of his own. "I don''t have a temper. Sure, I can get emotional sometimes, but no more than anyone else. The actions I took were logical and necessary."


    "Really now? Because that look on your face when you transformed your arm told a different story. If you''d seen it¨C"


    "How could I have seen what my face looked like? There''s no mirrors here."


    Katarina opened her mouth, closed it, scowled, then finally let out a heavy sigh. "...Regardless, I take umbrage with you deeming this course of action ''necessary''. Surely there were other ways? Whatever your intentions are for Springwater Village, revealing your nature in a public setting is bound to cause problems for us."


    Simon gestured at the bucket of washing water, complete with a pile of bloodstained rags beside it. "I think I''ve made my intentions exceedingly clear."


    "Yes, but that was..." She trailed off, her eyes widening. "Wait. It was true? These people would have died if the physician hadn''t cleansed his hands? This wasn''t a convoluted scheme to advance inscrutable goals, like moving pieces on a board that only you can see?"


    What in the world are Demons getting up to around here? While his fabricated reputation may have been excellent at making people view him as stronger than he truly was, it also came with them ¨C or at least Katarina ¨C assuming he was some Machiavellian manipulator with foresight bordering on precognition.


    Beneficial in certain circumstances. Not so much when he wanted people to believe he was being sincere.


    "I could assure you that I was telling the truth," Simon began, "but there''s no better way to sound like a liar than to profess your own honesty. Instead, I''ll simply lay out my reasoning."


    He held up a finger. "First: the possibility of Jonathan fatally infecting people was very real. Would take me too long to explain why, so just chalk it up to Demon magic verifying my suspicions." He held up another finger. "Second: Jonathan already refused my previous offer. If I had done nothing, innocent people would''ve died."


    Well...potentially innocent. Simon hadn''t asked Identify to list out their worst crimes or anything. The Skill was limited in how much information it could provide, and checking if the risk of infection had gone down was a higher priority. For all he knew, every single patient in this room dropkicked puppies for fun and ate babies for supper.


    But it wasn''t his place to make those sort of presumptions. Having a well-earned distrust for the inherent goodness of mankind was one thing ¨C declaring that everyone was guilty until proven innocent was another.


    Simon took great care not to step over the thin line between cynicism and misanthropy.


    "And lastly," he continued, holding up a third finger. "Jonathan was unwilling to listen to me. If I hadn''t threatened him¨C"


    "Did it need to be with that, though?" Katarina pointed at his Shapeshifted arm. "A sword could have sufficed."


    "Jonathan would''ve fought back. Waste of time, and maybe he gets injured in the scuffle." Or maybe I straight-up lose and get exposed as a fraud. The doctor''s Estimated Level is higher than my actual Level. "A threat from a Demon, however..."


    He shrugged. "This way cuts out the middleman."


    Katarina groaned. "I dislike that you''re making a degree of sense."


    Simon grinned, but his mirth faded as Katarina leaned closer, lowering her voice to a quiet whisper. "I pray that you''ve thought of what comes next. Because I would prefer not to be slain for associating with Demons." A hint of worry crept into her tone. "You wouldn''t have revealed yourself without an appropriate escape plan, right?"


    "Of course," he half-lied.


    In reality, if Jonathan had called Simon''s bluff, screamed YOLO to the heavens, ripped off his shirt, and decided to throw hands...things could''ve gotten dicey.


    Thankfully, the doctor had been adequately cowed. There shouldn''t be anymore potholes in the road until Katarina''s father received an official diagnosis. Depending on the severity of Gerold''s illness, they might need to adjust their plans moving forward.


    Virtually all of those plans would start with some variation of ''rush to the carriage and get the hell out of Springwater''.


    None of them could stay here. Once Simon and Katarina left the clinic with Gerold on their shoulders, word would immediately spread about the new Demon in town.


    If Springwater''s people had been gutsy enough to cross swords with a powerful Fell Beast, then they might come for him as well. And unlike the Beast, he doubted he could take on an angry mob of pissed-off townsfolk eager to vent their frustrations on him.


    Simon only hoped that the pace of his feet could outrun the speed of traveling news ¨C or of someone raising a village-wide alarm.


    Would be easier to flee if I left Katarina and Gerold behind, he admitted. While Katarina was decently helpful and slowly warming up to him, an invalid like Gerold was a liability, and the two of them were a package deal. Plus, it''s not like I was planning to stick with them forever. I promised her that I''d get her father to a doctor, and I did; nothing more is owed.


    Unfortunately, abandoning them at this juncture would leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Such was the price of having moral standards.


    Speaking of which...


    Heroic Valor, Simon internally called. In case you haven''t noticed, I just saved a room full of people from death by infection. Where''s the¨C


    [Take it.]


    A modest sum of Experience flowed into his soul. It brought him most of the way to Level 7, but not quite.


    That''s all? Last time your bonus EXP fully raised my Level from 5 to 6.


    [Gave same amount as rescued captives,] the Skill explained. [Higher Levels require more EXP.]


    Doesn''t seem proportionate. In the first scenario, I rescued two people. This time, I saved dozens. Think that''s deserving of a pay raise, don''t you agree?


    Heroic Valor remained silent. Simon flinched as it sent an emotional impression reminiscent of water boiling over a hot stove.


    [You threatened a doctor whose only crimes were ignorance and discourtesy. He was no slaver. He spends his days toiling to heal the injured. And you pressed your claws against his throat.]


    Simon frowned. I wasn''t actually going to kill him, even if he never came around. That much should be obvious.


    [Was he aware of that? Aside from you, was *anyone* aware? Jonathan genuinely believed that his life was in grave peril, and his patients genuinely believed that they were about to witness a beloved village physician being disemboweled by a Demon. While the matter may have resolved peacefully ¨C which was no guarantee ¨C this memory shall plague their nightmares for years to follow.]


    It seemed to stare coldly at him. [You were given precisely as much EXP as deserved.]


    I''m hearing lots of criticism, but very little of it is constructive. He let irritation seep through into his thoughts. Do you think there was a better way to convince Jonathan? At least in a manner that ensured the health and safety of his patients.


    [With your insufficient charisma? No. Someone like yourself is much more proficient at threats and deceit than forging sincere connections with others.]


    Simon blinked. That''s¨C


    [Do not contact me until you have good reason.]


    Heroic Valor''s presence vanished, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts once again.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    As if by reflex, he turned and used Identify on one of the patched-up patients. His growing unease diminished when he read the line ''Probability of infection has decreased significantly.'' He then assessed several more patients, finding identical lines of encouragement in all of their Descriptions.


    I was correct to do what I did, he told himself. Maybe a silver-tongued devil could''ve settled things without threats of violence, but a black-scaled Demon beats the alternative of doing nothing. It''s not a sin to be imperfect. Heroic Valor was in the wrong for chewing me out so harshly.


    His turmoil should have ended there. Over the years, Simon had been denigrated by no small number of people, some of them utilizing insults far more cutting and accurate than Heroic Valor''s brief outburst. Their barbs had never stuck to him for long. He always bounced back quickly,


    So the transmigrator was immensely frustrated when, ten minutes later, he found himself still replaying their conversation in his mind.


    Was it because of the Skill''s method of communication? Emotional pulses were definitely more impactful than mere spoken words. Or perhaps ¨C as an aspect of the gods'' system ¨C its rebuke held disproportionate weight?


    But...no. None of those theories felt right to him.


    What about Heroic Valor was so uniquely disconcerting?


    Luckily, he was rescued from any further emotional turmoil by the front door barricade exploding.


    The incursion happened without warning. One moment Simon was knee-deep in introspection, and the next, debris had been sent scattering across the room like a localized storm of wood chips. He hastily covered his eyes as people screamed, Katarina rushing over to Gerold''s bedside.


    Before the dust had even started dissipating, a group of five warriors hurried into the now-open entrance. Their sharpened blades and padded leather armor marked them as a cut above your average citizen off the street. The warrior militia swiftly formed a line, each gaze sweeping the room until they''d all located Simon and his Shapeshifted demon arm.


    A woman at the head of their formation stepped forward. "You," she hissed, her tone so acidic that it could''ve eaten through metal. The leader raised her sword, pointing it directly at his neck.


    As if he''d needed confirmation that they were here for him.


    In truth, Simon was more confused than concerned. How did people outside the clinic learn what was going on inside? I made sure to keep Jonathan and his patients from leaving to sound the alarm.


    Then again, there was still too much about Valtia that was unknown to him. Could''ve been telepathic communication, or a hidden Artifact, or an invisible panic button, or any number of things. This was a world of magic and fantasy ¨C he couldn''t possibly account for every variable. Not when he was largely operating off of secondhand information gleaned from a smattering of random conversations.


    It had only been a matter of time before his lack of knowledge cost him.


    Identify. A glance informed him that the militia group''s leader was Level 11 and out for Demon blood. No surprises there. Even if she''d come alone, fighting his way to safety would''ve been a tall order. He highly doubted that she would be willing to negotiate terms of surrender, either.


    Combat, diplomacy, running...all dead ends. Simon felt intangible walls closing in on him. There are no viable options. Unlike with Kirkelas or the slavers, I didn''t come prepared for this.


    Adrenaline surged through his veins as a smile pushed itself onto his face. Which means this should be a good test of my improvisation skills. If I can''t handle a single ambush where I''m outnumbered and outgunned, then I would''ve never made it very far in Valtia anyway.


    I haven''t lost until my heart stops beating.


    "Good day," Simon greeted, waving his Shapeshifted arm. Wasn''t like there was any point in hiding it. Better to project an air of confidence. "While I understand your fervor, would you mind settling down? Jonathan here is in the middle of some sensitive medical procedures. Interrupting him might jeopardize¨C"


    "SILENCE!" With her free hand, the warrior leader reached into her pocket and pulled out a small white object. It was shaped like an eight-sided crystal, emitting a soft, radiant glow akin to the Sanctuary Tree and Warding Orbs. "I did not come here to hear your twisted words, Demon! I came here to enact vengeance!"


    He paused. "Vengeance for what? I just got here an hour ago."


    The legitimate curiosity in his voice only seemed to stoke the fires of her rage. "PERISH, FELLSPAWN!"


    Light nearly blinded Simon as the eight-sided crystal shone with sudden brilliance. Mana coalesced inside what was assuredly an Artifact, gathering energy into a visible core. It was like when Relia had charged her fireball spell, or when Simon commanded Kill to form. If pattern holds, attack brewing, need to verify. Ident¨C


    The core of light burst forth.


    There was no time. No time to use Identify, no time to retaliate ¨C barely even any time to think. His next move would be driven almost entirely by instinct.


    And so Simon stood his ground, angling himself so that his left side was facing front. He made no attempt to dodge whatsoever, only feeling impelled to protect his right arm. The primal urge to flee never materialized.


    Perhaps his standards were skewed from meeting the Sealed Demon of Ruination in his first week, but as dramatic as the Artifact''s light show had been...it simply didn''t worry him.


    Dazzling radiance crashed forward. His left side took the brunt of the assault, its warm glow enveloping him like a layer of heated saran wrap. Simon felt a faint tingling in his Shapeshifted arm.


    Then the light vanished.


    It was so anticlimactic that he needed a second to realize that the attack had already ended.


    With a befuddled gaze, Simon glanced down at his left human arm. Tiny patches of clothing were burnt away, revealing slightly reddened skin underneath, as if he''d been out in the sun for a bit too long. It hurt...maybe? A little?


    HP: 86 / 90


    Yeah. ''A little'' sounded about right.


    "You certainly have a penchant for theatrics," Simon remarked. "The effectiveness leaves something to be desired, though." He lifted his gaze back up¨C


    And found five astonished faces staring back at him. Where there had once been a group of battle-ready, gung-ho militia warriors, he now saw people who looked lost and adrift. The squad was gazing at their Artifact with forlorn expressions, the crystal''s effervescent glow having faded to a dull, subdued off-white.


    It was like they''d prepared an extensive script in their minds for how this encounter would play out, and Simon had derailed it halfway through Page 1.


    Theory time. What went awry? He took a few seconds to think, as the warriors were graciously offering him plenty. None of them had stirred, their brains still in the process of rebooting. They plainly expected the Artifact to accomplish more than a mild sunburn. Because...


    It had been filled with sacred mana. Warding Orbs and Sanctuary Trees passively deterred Fell creatures. The warriors'' Artifact seemed to be a tool designed for offensive maneuvers. If the Orbs and Trees were shields, then this was a holy blade ¨C one meant to pierce straight through a Demon''s heart.


    But Simon wasn''t a full Demon. In fact, if he hadn''t been Fell-Touched, the Artifact likely wouldn''t have affected him at all. Might''ve been different if his Shapeshifted arm took a direct hit, but it hadn''t, and the rest of his body was much less susceptible.


    He understood that. The warriors didn''t. What they had seen was a monster shrugging off an attack specifically designed to kill it.


    ''How powerful must this Demon be?'' they would be wondering. ''What can we possibly do to a being of such unfathomable strength?''


    Simon cast Identify on the Artifact. The Skill validated his hypothesis, even pointing out that the eight-sided crystal was now bereft of sacred mana. It would be years before it had absorbed enough ambient energy to unleash another Fell-slaying blast.


    Their holy blade is rusted.


    Simon''s lips twitched.


    The transmigrator stepped forward. The militia leader stepped back.


    His lips twitched again.


    Unable to help himself, laughter started bubbling up from the pit of his soul. It began as a light chuckle, then escalated, rising and loudening until his joy was echoing around every corner of the room. The warriors'' faces all went white as sheets, their limbs trembling with fear, and Simon laughed even harder.


    How could he not? The same thing that drove the militia to attack him ¨C their presumption of him being a Demon ¨C was the same thing shattering their will to fight. It went beyond mere irony, treading into the realm of a farce.


    I love Valtia. This world never ceases to surprise me.


    "So that was it?" Simon managed to say, once his laughter had subsided. "A shiny bauble fails, and that''s all it takes for your resolve to crumble?"


    The leader sputtered. She shut her mouth again when Simon took one more step forward.


    "Surely you have a backup plan. Or the wits to improvise when the chips are down. Something."


    Silence.


    "Unbelievable." The transmigrator shook his head. "I would ask why Springwater isn''t sending their best, but I''m guessing its ''best'' are the people laying in cots behind me. Brave men and women who stood up to a rogue Fell Beast despite knowing the risks. They have more spine than you ever will ¨C and that includes the ones whose spines are literally broken."


    He took his final step forward. "Now leave. Before I stop feeling amused and start feeling annoyed."


    There still weren''t any mirrors in Jonathan''s clinic. Simon couldn''t tell exactly what his expression looked like in that moment.


    But whatever the warriors saw, it sent them running.


    Smiling brightly, he turned to face the rest of his audience. Jonathan and the patients ¨C the conscious ones, at any rate ¨C were goggling at him with varying mixtures of terror, distress, and awe. Katarina''s gaze was more measured and analytical, regarding him carefully like a puzzle yet to be solved.


    "One of you contacted the outside." Simon''s grin widened. "I don''t mind. Feel free to inform them that I''m here. When someone of importance is ready to have a civilized discussion, I''ll be waiting."


    He turned back around, striding away with a nonchalant gait. "And Katarina? Help me move another cabinet. We seem to be lacking a front door now, and I''d like to avoid letting a chill draft inside."


    One last chuckle escaped him. "This is a place of rest and healing, after all."

 Chapter 10.2

    Staying was a gamble. It may have been more prudent for Simon to make for his carriage before the militia returned ¨C potentially with thrice as many able-bodied soldiers at their side. He fully recognized that.


    Yet he had always been a sucker for opportunity, and the situation in Springwater was rapidly developing into something immensely fascinating. Rather than take his chances sprinting through a village where news of his Demonhood had likely spread to every home, street, and alley...


    Something told him that good things would come to those who waited.


    He passed the time by overseeing more of Jonathan''s medical procedures. The good doctor was washing his hands even more vigorously now. Apart from that, only one minor diversion occurred ¨C when Katarina pulled him aside to speak privately again.


    "All I will say," she murmured, "is that you asked me not to reveal your Demonic nature. Made me swear a vow of secrecy, as I recall."


    Katarina swept her arms out, gesturing at the room. "And then you did this."


    Simon tilted his head. "Well, it''s not like I swore a vow of secrecy."


    She stopped talking to him after that.


    Twenty minutes went by before anyone else arrived at the clinic. Eventually, Simon heard a polite knock-knock on the medicine cabinet serving as their makeshift front door.


    "May I enter?" asked an elderly female voice. "I wouldn''t want to distract Jonathan if he''s busy assisting someone." She spoke with an easy, innate confidence; the kind that was natural and automatic instead of forced and overbearing.


    Simon had her pegged as the village mayor before he''d even pushed the cabinet aside. He was pleased to see that she hadn''t brought a large entourage of warriors with her ¨C just a small group that was hanging back half a street away, shuffling nervously when they caught sight of him.


    "You came at a good time," he beamed, inviting the old woman inside. She refused his outstretched hand, steadying her age-worn legs by gripping onto nearby surfaces, which Simon took no offense to. "Jonathan is in-between operations right now. We''ll make ourselves scarce as he gets back to work. There''s plenty of washing water left, so he can supervise himself."


    Simon turned his head to the side, fixing two watchful eyes on a man currently attempting to minimize his presence. "Isn''t that right, Jonathan?"


    The physician nodded insistently.


    "There you have it." Simon beckoned the mayor forward. She grunted in assent, hobbling over with the speed of a particularly urgent snail.


    It was impressive in two ways. First, that the woman was determined to move by her own strength, not giving the slightest edge to someone she would soon be negotiating with. He could respect that.


    And second, that she was Springwater''s mayor in spite of her physical frailty. Simon believed that a leader''s competency was measured by the sharpness of their mind...but he''d expected a land like Valtia to elevate its magic supersoldiers above the common folk. If this weak old woman was still in charge anyway, then she must be very good at her job.


    Or very good at employing favors and nepotism to keep herself in high standing. Either way, he''d be finding out shortly.


    They settled into a far corner of the clinic just outside of earshot. Katarina went with them, standing not quite by Simon''s side, but closer to him than the mayor. The mayor spared a quick glance for her, yet elected not to comment.


    "Greetings," she began. "My name is Lucia Evergreen. Yours?"


    "Simon Cobblestone." He smiled. "Glad to meet you. I must say ¨C this is a much warmer reception than the last people who stopped by."


    "An...eager bunch, yes. You have my thanks for leaving them unharmed."


    The warrior leader alone could''ve probably defeated him in a one-on-one duel, but best not to mention that.


    "Your presence here is a surprise," Lucia admitted. "I haven''t heard of a Demon trespassing upon the Severed Isles in many years. Suppose your kind could''ve been slipping through the cracks undetected, but if so, they''ve never acted as brazenly as this. Duke Helmund''s rule tends to give any prospective invaders second thoughts."


    Her lips pursed as if she''d bit into a rotten apple. "It should be the one thing he''s good for."


    Simon leaned back in his chair, shifting his posture to casual indifference. "Do you intend to notify the Duke now that I''m here?" He phrased it as an offhanded query, but it was important to know. If a royal army was going to descend on Springwater, then he needed to leave as of five minutes ago.


    Mayor Evergreen barked out a hollow laugh. "I''ve little interest in our village being razed to the ground by uncaring city soldiers aiming to ''purify the Demon rot.'' "


    Katarina fidgeted awkwardly. "Not all city dwellers are so callous as that," she defended.


    "Some of them. The ones in the nobles'' pocketbooks, however? They''d cut us down without losing a wink of sleep." Lucia turned towards Simon. "If you give us no reason to request outside help, then we won''t. Simple as that. Not even the Duke''s local sympathizers are so daft as to contact the Capital."


    Another black mark for Helmund, Simon noted. The Duke was racking up ''awful leader'' points at an astonishing rate. Between Kirkelas, Katarina, Lucia...was there anything in Valtia that didn''t hate him?


    Besides the nobles that directly benefited from his rule. They didn''t count.


    "Understood." The transmigrator clapped his hands together. "Now then ¨C I''ll let you start. I imagine you have questions, comments, concerns? Perhaps an offer to propose?"


    The mayor nodded, momentarily sinking into thought. Simon deliberated whether to Identify her, yet decided against it. Lucia''s Description would be set in stone after the Skill was used once. He needed to gather as much information as possible so he knew which details Identify should prioritize.


    "Before we continue," she said, "I have two questions for you." Mayor Evergreen pointed at Jonathan''s washing bucket. "Can you conjure up water on command?"


    "It comes from an internal supply source," Simon clarified. "There''s a hard limit."


    Lucia winced. The mayor had evidently been hoping he could serve as an infinite water fountain. "I see. Then my second question..."


    She locked eyes with him. Simon was almost taken aback by the intensity of her gaze. Within the woman''s failing body resided a will forged from decades of adversity, tempering something malleable into unbending steel. "Did you summon the Fell Beast that has seized our Water Artifact?"


    Oh. Water Artifact. Huh.


    Lot to unpack from that statement.


    It helped explain the dry fountain, the doctor''s burst of outrage at being asked to wash his hands, the militia leader seeking vengeance on him, and why Springwater had committed such a large force to battle a Beast that seemed out of their league. It wasn''t a matter of pest control ¨C it was a matter of life or death. If Valtia had no rainfall, then Artifacts would be their sole source of water.


    Simon knew full well what it was like to go without nourishment.


    I haven''t even had time to process what it means for a world to not have rain. That''s like a world without sunlight. Water is a pillar of life, of...everything. And if Relia knew enough about rain to mention it, then they also must have had it in the past. What happened?


    He centered his focus. Speculate later. Negotiations come first. "No," Simon answered, emphasizing the word. "While I recognize that the timing is suspect ¨C no. Before Katarina and I arrived, we were completely unaware that a Fell Beast was menacing Springwater."


    Katarina grimaced at being lumped in with him. Simon felt no shame at doing so. I need every ally I can get, and if you''re linked to me, you won''t have a choice.


    Mayor Evergreen stared at him for some time, searching for signs of duplicity. Eventually, she pulled back, the blazing intensity in her eyes fading to a steadfast simmer. "Can''t say if you''re truthful or an exceptional liar. Would assume liar, considering what you are...yet that is inconsequential. A Contract must be sealed if my people are to survive the week."


    "Mind explaining the situation first? Would prefer to know all the relevant details before making any decisions."


    A flicker of surprise passed through the mayor''s expression. It was gone in an instant. "Very well." She nodded, seeming a bit more at ease ¨C as if sharing stories was familiar, comfortable ground. "Like most villages that exist apart from those overstuffed cities, Springwater has just one Water Artifact. Ours is a marvel crafted by Victoria herself, and located underneath the central plaza fountain. Earlier today..."


    She grit her teeth. "Earlier today, a Fell Beast took control of it."


    "How?" Simon asked. "There are hundreds of Warding Orbs lining the village perimeter."


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    "Didn''t keep you out." Lucia Evergreen shook her head. "We think this Beast was outside Springwater, burrowed straight down, then dug horizontally into the cavern below the fountain, bypassing our defenses. Didn''t put Wards down there. Supplies are limited, and guarding the aboveground perimeter felt of greater importance."


    "It was. This is the first time a Fell Beast has made it inside Springwater Village, correct? Which means you''ve gone centuries without a breach. Allocating some Wards to the cavern would''ve weakened your borders, and it''s better to defend against a known enemy than to bank on longshot scenarios. Even if things turned out this way, you still made the right call."


    Lucia paused, eyeing him with an incomprehensible look on her face. The mayor didn''t seem to know how to interpret his praise, so she ignored it and pressed on. "You can predict what will become of Springwater Village without our Water Artifact. We don''t have the coin to purchase water itself from outside ¨C not with the nobles siphoning more and more mana each year."


    Her gaze flitted to the side, towards the wall, like she was staring at something outside the clinic. "And if the Beast makes its way aboveground, then into the village proper...it''ll head directly for the Mana Harvesters."


    She tensed. "I don''t need to tell you why that would prove disastrous for Springwater."


    No, by all means, tell me ¨C and she won''t. Awesome. With how Katarina was nodding, though, Lucia was correct. Whatever the Mana Harvesters were, they couldn''t let the Fell Beast get to them.


    Katarina took that moment to clear her throat, drawing their attention. "What of the Water Artifact''s mana reserves?" she posited. "The Beast has been draining it for hours now. Will there be anything left by the time we get to it?"


    "Hopefully." Undisguised loathing bloomed on Lucia''s features. "Which means we need to kill that wretched creature today. As if Helmund''s tithe wasn''t already bleeding us dry..."


    She calmed herself, suppressing her hatred in order to concentrate on the topic at hand. "Thus, I petition your aid, Demon of the Cobblestone name. Slay this Fell Beast and retrieve our Water Artifact. Take any price from me ¨C I merely ask that you leave Springwater unscathed."


    Self-sacrificial too? Simon almost smiled. If more leaders on Earth were like you, I might not have felt so despondent that I emigrated to another world.


    Although that wasn''t enough to get him to risk his life right away. He still had questions. "Not denying your offer, but I''d like to explore alternatives first. Does Springwater have the funds to purchase a new Artifact?"


    This time both Lucia and Katarina stared at him. A pensive silence followed, as if Simon had stepped on a social landmine, or told an offensive joke to the wrong audience.


    Mayor Evergreen laced her fingers together. "That is a cruel jest to make, Demon," she said, with forced tranquility.


    Because they''re poor? No, this reaction is different. More context that I can''t guess.


    Nor could he ask. He was already pushing it by inquiring about Springwater''s situation. A real Demon probably would''ve prepared everything beforehand, gloating as they lorded their vast knowledge over the pathetic humans, hinting at deep, layered schemes beyond mortal understanding.


    Simon was mostly flying blind. Again. Couldn''t even ask why a Fell Beast would want to seize a Water Artifact. He had theories and conjecture, but those weren''t the same as established facts.


    Seriously need to hire someone to be an exposition dump for me soon.


    Thoughts racing, he quickly went down the list of possible options. Doubt they can create a new Artifact, if that was their reaction to buying one. They also don''t have the money to import water. Could evacuate the village, but there aren''t enough rations and Wards to go around. Most of the populace would die while traveling...and I''m skeptical that other settlements would be hospitable to a sudden mass of refugees. Killing this Fell Beast seems like all we can do.


    A rampaging Beast so powerful that it had brutalized an armed mob of dozens. Springwater Village didn''t seem like a place that would have many elite warriors ¨C if any ¨C but that was still squarely above Simon''s pay grade.


    "What about the Artifact with sacred mana?" he asked. "The one that your warriors shot at me. Do you have another?"


    Lucia sighed. "No. There''s just the one. We were planning to use it against the Beast if our assault failed. Should''ve used it during the assault, maybe, but we were hoping to preserve its energy. Then you came¨C"


    "And I warranted a response," Simon finished. So it''s partially my fault they don''t have a crucial weapon when they need it most. Not that I *intended* that, but...hmm.


    The Mayor leaned forward, unable to hide the curiosity in her expression. "Why didn''t our Artifact affect you? Or the Warding Orbs? Sacred mana is anathema to Demons. That''s what we''ve been told."


    He waved his hand dismissively. "While I can''t speak for other Demons, sacred mana is a trivial concern to me."


    After letting that statement sink in, he continued. "It likely would''ve hurt the Fell Beast, but your Artifact won''t be fully recharged for a few years."


    "How do you know?"


    A wide grin stretched across Simon''s face. "You''d need to make a separate offer to learn that."


    Lucia couldn''t suppress the shudder that ran through her. "I see." She quickly rallied her composure, donning the mantle of a leader for her people. "Then we return to the subject of Contracts. I..."


    Her resolve strengthened. "As stated, I will trade anything in regards to myself. All that I own is yours. My home, my possessions, my body, my soul. Yet you are not to harm Springwater or its inhabitants. They''ve gone through enough hardship as it is."


    Simon silently agreed. Taking advantage of Springwater would''ve been no better than kicking someone while they were down. I''m considering the opposite, really. Wonder how the people of Valtia would react to a Demon performing acts of charity.


    Still ¨C he couldn''t walk away from the negotiating table with nothing to show for it. "To start," he began, "you must guarantee safe passage for myself, Katarina, and her father Gerold. Jonathan must also address Gerold''s health issues after he''s finished tending to his other patients. This precludes whatever deal we end up making. You need to promise me now."


    Mayor Evergreen nodded. "I''ll inform the village as soon as I leave the clinic." She hesitated. "A warning. My word is respected in Springwater, but that may not stop certain fools from disobeying me. People with more bravado than sense may decide that they''ll be the next storied hero who felled a Demon. If so, please punish only those who take up arms against you."


    Katarina seemed panicked over something, but Simon was too busy being mildly stunned at Lucia''s request. The mayor wasn''t even asking that he spare whoever attacked him ¨C just that he wouldn''t lash out at the rest of the village too.


    Low expectations. Disastrously low. I''ll be viewed as a saint, relatively speaking, simply for treating human life as if it holds a breadcrumb of value.


    Every time he learned more about Demons, he felt increasingly assured in his decision not to free Kirkelas.


    "Your terms are acceptable," Simon replied. "As for the official Contract...let''s wait on that."


    The mayor flinched. "No Contract?" she repeated, sounding utterly stupefied. "Why?"


    I can''t make one, for starters. "I like things to be fair and equitable. Need to see this Fell Beast and take its measure before locking you into a potentially imbalanced trade."


    Especially since I don''t know if I can win, and I''m not sacrificing myself in a hopeless crusade. If Simon didn''t have one strategy that might work, he would''ve already turned down the Mayor''s plea, no matter how desperate and earnest it was.


    He had too many ambitions to die here.


    At that thought, inspiration struck. Simon brought up his Character Sheet, gravitating towards one Skill in particular.


    Now there was an idea.


    "But to give you a general concept of what I desire..." He produced a pen and paper from Inventory. Lucia couldn''t hide her surprise at his use of unknown magic ¨C and at the writing implements themselves, which would''ve been prohibitively expensive for commoners in a medieval world.


    Simon jotted down a quick list, then handed it over. The mayor took it, Katarina moving to read over her shoulder.


    Both their eyebrows shot up to the tops of their foreheads. Simon allowed himself a mischievous grin.


    He may have found an ethical way to Subjugate a Territory.

 Chapter 11.1

    Half of Simon''s proposed terms made sense to Lucia. They were what she''d expected.


    The other half had her re-reading the paper again and again, asking for repeated clarification, more disbelief creeping into her tone with every assurance he gave.


    It took Katarina''s intervention to smooth things over. "This is just how he is," she had remarked, with an exasperated sigh. "Accept his offer before he changes his mind."


    Preparations moved swiftly after that.


    The first thing Simon requested was spare Warding Orbs. Powerful as this Fell Beast may be, it still possessed the same vulnerability to sacred mana as its brethren ¨C otherwise it wouldn''t have taken the trouble to bypass Springwater''s perimeter by burrowing underground. When combined with Inventory, having Wards-on-command could prove invaluable against it.


    Mayor Evergreen denied his petition, although not out of scorn or malice. Springwater''s only Warding Orbs were all firmly embedded into a reinforced barricade surrounding the village border. It was designed to prevent any would-be thieves from deciding that making some quick coin was more important than ensuring the safety of thousands. Deconstructing the barricade to allow removal of the Wards would take days of time that they didn''t have.


    ...Or so she thought. At Simon''s insistence, Lucia had the barricade examined ¨C and soon found that its infrastructure had degraded to the point where ten Warding Orbs could be easily removed. No one in Springwater had even noticed.


    Someone''s getting fired, the transmigrator thought. He chose not to comment on Lucia''s understated embarrassment and fury. Watching the mayor direct her ire at others was far more entertaining.


    There was risk involved with weakening the perimeter''s Warding aura, but it should be fine as long as he returned the Orbs within the next few hours. Dealing with the enemy within was of greater importance than worrying over the enemies without.


    While Lucia''s people gathered the spare Wards for him, Simon took several minutes to peruse his Character Sheet. Specifically, he looked at his Unspent Points, wondering how to spend them.


    Simon


    Class: Fledgling


    Attributes: Transmigrator, Fell-Touched


    Level: 6


    HP: 90 / 90


    MP: 70 / 70


    Strength: 18


    Dexterity: 16


    Vitality: 9


    Intelligence: 7


    Unspent Points: 5


    One option was to scope out the Fell Beast before deciding...but he didn''t want to get into the habit of hoarding Unspent Points. Choosing how to allocate stats required analysis, which required careful thought, which was a distraction. Distractions on the battlefield typically resulted in fresh corpses.


    Nothing would be more humiliating than having his head lopped off because he''d been busy waffling over whether to put points into Strength or Dexterity.


    Simon went for neither. He slotted 3 points into Vitality and 2 into Intelligence, bringing them up to 12 and 9 respectively.


    Simon


    Class: Fledgling


    Attributes: Transmigrator, Fell-Touched


    Level: 6


    HP: 120 / 120


    MP: 90 / 90


    Strength: 18


    Dexterity: 16


    Vitality: 12


    Intelligence: 9


    Unspent Points: 0


    Vitality and Intelligence were chosen mostly because they were lagging behind. Level-ups automatically assigned points based on recent life experiences, and he''d naturally acquired plenty of Strength and Dexterity through his various endeavors. Vitality and Intelligence seemed more difficult to earn.


    Intelligence might start accruing points now that he''d figured out how to use demon magic, but Vitality hadn''t gotten a boost even after Lucette barbecued and stabbed him. Most of his Unspent Points would probably be going towards it ¨C at least until he''d achieved a measure of balance within his stat spread.


    My HP increased by 30, Simon noted, and my MP increased by 20. Each point of Vitality and Intelligence is equivalent to 10 HP or MP.


    Although...how does HP work in a real-world setting? It''s not like I''m growing protective scales; my body can apparently just take more of a beating. What does that entail, exactly? Would a 100 HP Simon die from getting his heart ripped out, while a 1000 HP Simon would laugh it off?


    It wasn''t something he intended to test anytime soon.


    Simon also considered asking for backup to accompany him, but decided against that for multiple reasons. Firstly, Springwater''s best fighters were already out of commission. His ''backup'' ¨C charitably speaking ¨C would likely consist of the five overeager warriors who''d fled with their tail between their legs when an Artifact failed to harm him. No thanks.


    Additionally, if the people here watched him fight, they might realize that their mysterious, enigmatic Demon ally was no stronger than a common soldier. His victory would be much more impressive if none of them saw how it happened.


    Lastly, he possessed serious doubts about whether even Springwater''s best fighters would be able to contribute as anything other than glorified meat shields. A mob of dozens should''ve overwhelmed the Fell Beast through sheer attrition if nothing else, yet it had easily repelled them nonetheless. Springwater clearly lacked the means to wound it in any major capacity.


    His theory was confirmed when he questioned one of the survivors of the Beast''s rampage. They immediately took on a haunted look, shrinking into their cot as if hiding from the monster''s unseen gaze.


    "Just kept healing," the patient had muttered. "We stabbed it, filled it with arrows, but it didn''t care. Used the Water Artifact''s stolen mana to fix itself."


    The Fell Beast''s primary strength didn''t appear to be...well, Strength. While it was still dangerously fast and powerful, those factors weren''t as concerning as its boundless regeneration. It could take a licking and keep on ticking.


    Perhaps an elite warrior could''ve slain the Beast anyway, but Springwater didn''t have elite warriors, and requesting help from the nearest city would take too long ¨C assuming it helped at all. Outside assistance always came with heavy strings attached. Springwater would be lucky to retain the barest sliver of autonomy afterwards.


    Simon''s presence complicated matters even further. If the nobility discovered that unwashed, rural lessers had been cavorting with a Demon, that...could pose a problem. They may very well put the entire village to the sword. Like pulling weeds from a ruined garden, clearing space so they could begin planting anew.


    No. Springwater was on its own. And with the village as it was now, victory over the Fell Beast wouldn''t be possible in a fair fight.


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    Good thing, then, that Simon didn''t believe in fairness. If you weren''t strolling into battle with the deck hideously stacked in your favor...what was the point, really?


    --


    The Water Artifact was located in a cavern below the central plaza fountain. Its only access point was a winding staircase that led underground, which had been blocked off by Lucia''s subordinates the instant that their assault on the Fell Beast ended in catastrophe.


    Simon waited patiently as they removed the blockade. He was the only person there who didn''t appear nervous. The workers were sweating bullets, Katarina was wringing her hands, and Lucia''s leaderly expression had hardened into a mask of forced stoicism.


    You would think *they* were ones about to step into the Beast''s den, he mused. Though I suppose their livelihood does depend on my success.


    As if she''d read his mind, Lucia approached him. "Is there aught else you require?" the mayor asked, for the fourth time. "We don''t have healing potions or more Warding Orbs, but my warriors are ready to assist you."


    "That would be like sending toddlers into a wood thresher," Simon replied, for the fourth time ¨C each response having grown slightly less tactful. "I will not needlessly expend lives just to better our chances by a fraction of a percent."


    If his plan worked, then he could do it on his own. And if it didn''t work...then no amount of extra sword arms would have made a difference.


    Lucia frowned, seeming about to argue, before relenting. "As you wish. Best of luck to the both of you."


    She walked back to her men, leaving Simon in a state of mild surprise. "The both of us?" He turned to face the red-haired woman standing by his side. "Did you tell her that you''re going with me to slay the Beast?"


    Katarina clenched, then unclenched her hands. "I did. Because I am."


    "News to me." Simon crossed his arms. "You didn''t strike me as the hopelessly heroic type. Read one too many stories as a young girl, I''m guessing?"


    "This is your fault!" Eyes narrowed, she jabbed an accusing finger into his chest. "Do you have any idea the kind of black stain you''ve marked me with? These people think I''m allied with a Demon!"


    "Well you did offer to pledge loyalty to me once before, so are they that off-base?"


    "Don''t you start." Katarina groaned, running her hands down her face. "Remember how Mayor Evergreen asked you to show mercy if a resident of Springwater attacked you again? Even though they''d have to be empty-headed imbeciles to try, she knew it was a possibility. Now imagine what those same fools might attempt if you''re gone. I''m not a Demon ¨C merely a Demon''s ''vassal'' or ''lover'' or whatever in Helmund''s name they think I am."


    Her gaze fell to the ground. "Being taken as a hostage is the best I could wish for. A slit throat is far likelier. Executed as a traitor to my own kind."


    Simon''s mirthful grin was wiped from his face. "I see." He drummed his fingers on his thigh. "Will your father be safe?"


    Katarina flinched. "Yes," she answered, without confidence. "I''m putting distance between us for now. Maybe people here will forget we''re related. And the zealous types should have enough honor not to knife an unconscious sick man, anyhow."


    For several long seconds, Simon remained quiet.


    "Lucia." He called out to the mayor, raising his voice. "A word."


    She hurried over quickly. "Yes, Simon?"


    "You are aware that Katarina and her father Gerold are under my protection." He didn''t phrase it like a question.


    When Mayor Evergreen nodded, Simon clasped his hands behind his back, eyeing her with a placid stare. "Good. I don''t believe I ever made it clear what would happen if they came to harm."


    Suppressed panic flashed within Lucia''s expression. "Nothing will¨C"


    "No clemency shall be shown to offenders who injure, threaten, or abuse Katarina or Gerold Cartier. That includes impeding Gerold''s recovery. All perpetrators involved will be identified with unerring accuracy. When I have found everyone directly responsible, as well as any conspirators hiding behind their pawns, they shall be, to a man, to a woman, slaughtered. I will reach inside their throats, pull out their entrails, then hang them from the village rafters. Their blood and organs will decorate Springwater like vibrant festival ornaments, painting this dreary place with splashes of much-needed color. If you desire for that not to happen, then I suggest you keep your people in line."


    Silence.


    "Must I repeat myself?"


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    Lucia shook her head so rapidly that her neck cracked. Just in case, Simon cashed his chips in, finally using Identify on her. Its Description stated that she would do everything in her power to ensure that there were no oopsies in his absence.


    It''ll have to do. "That is all," Simon dismissed. To Lucia''s credit, she mostly kept her cool, power-walking away before the dignity of her station vanished entirely.


    Katarina was staring at him. "Why?" she asked, in a tone he couldn''t quite parse.


    "Because I''m sorry. When I led the people of Springwater to believe you were allied with me, I didn''t properly consider that they might lash out at you or your father. Not to this extent. For now, this is the best form of protection I can offer you."


    "...Thanks." She scratched the back of her head. "Should still follow you underground, just as a precaution, but, thanks."


    Katarina sounded more befuddled than grateful. Simon preferred it that way. He didn''t deserve gratitude for fixing a mess he had caused.


    A fix with the potential to cause as many problems as it solved. That overtly evil monologue cost me points with Lucia. Was worth it to make things right with the Cartiers, but now she probably sees me as a monster playing at a veneer of civility.


    Memories of Heroic Valor and its indictment echoed faintly in Simon''s mind ¨C that at his core, he was much more proficient at threats and deceit than forging sincere connections. He stomped the memory down, holding a sigh in his chest before it could escape.


    It''s fine. Everything should proceed smoothly as long as people don''t act stupid. Simon gazed out into the village. I pray that you don''t call my bluff. I''m not sure I''ll be able to fulfill it.


    At least not the organs-and-entrails part. That was a mite overly grotesque for his taste. Punishing anyone who harmed Gerold was certainly on the table, though. Simon wouldn''t have much sympathy for whoever targeted ¨C as Katarina had described ¨C a sick, unconscious man.


    No one spoke further. When the passage leading underground had been cleared away, Lucia beckoned Simon and Katarina forward. The mayor nodded to them, and they nodded in turn, venturing into the abyss without a moment''s hesitation.


    "Good luck," she whispered, before shutting the entrance behind them.

 Chapter 11.2

    As far as subterranean passageways went, the staircase to the Water Artifact''s cavern felt...reassuring, honestly.


    Anything would''ve been after Caelryn Cave. These halls were lit by visible light-stones rather than ambient Fell magic. There weren''t ancient skeletons littering the floor. Simon didn''t even sense a foreign presence attempting to intrude upon his mind! He may as well have been going for a relaxing jaunt through the woods.


    He also knew his perspective was...not the norm. Katarina was shivering, and only some of that was due to the cold.


    She kept close behind him as they descended.


    It was a longer trip than anticipated. The stairs were twisted and meandering, unnecessarily so, taking sharp turns and doubling back upwards at times.


    Perhaps to discourage thieves from journeying down to pilfer the Water Artifact? Its theft would have damned Springwater Village just as much as any Fell Beast. Valtia''s Severed Isles seemed to be wholly dependent on functioning Artifacts to survive ¨C without them, civilization would crumble overnight.


    But how are Artifacts created? And who sells them? Whoever owns the means of production would have a stranglehold on all of society.


    Simon shook his head, centering his focus. There would be time to theorize later.


    For now, he should use this opportunity to re-review his plan of battle before reaching the Beast''s lair.


    The first step was to acknowledge that he was putting himself at risk. He could strategize and scheme until his brain overheated, but no plan survived contact with the enemy ¨C especially not an enemy so much stronger than him. Challenging this Fell Beast was like walking into the open mouth of a hungry lion.


    Within the next hour, he might be dead.


    Yet that was still a risk he was willing to take. Partially for the benefits it would afford him...but mostly because Springwater had no other recourse. If he didn''t slay the Beast, thousands would perish. Simon refused to believe that inaction was free of consequences; he couldn''t just wash his hands of the situation and pretend everything would turn out fine.


    Which wasn''t to say he intended on becoming a martyr. If all went as planned, he should be able to win with nary a scratch on him.


    It was a simple strategy: don''t butt heads with the unstoppable monster juiced up on stolen Artifact mana. Simon held no delusions that he could succeed where Springwater''s militia had failed ¨C not in a direct fight. However, his Fell-Touched nature afforded him unique advantages that normal humans lacked.


    Most notably, Fell Beasts appeared to be terrified of his Shapeshifted demonic arm. The Red-Eyed Hunter had been sent screaming for the hills at the mere sight of it.


    If that was because of an instinctual pecking order ¨C where Demons sat higher on the Fell totem pole ¨C then Simon might literally only need to lift a finger to win. With any luck, the Beast in the cavern would take one look at him and promptly exit stage left, burrowing another tunnel as it retreated.


    Granted, this hypothesis was based on a sample size of one. Maybe the Red-Eyed Hunter was just that cowardly. He shouldn''t count on things being resolved so easily.


    That was where Fell Harvest came in. When Simon used the Skill on Lucette, it had immobilized the slaver, locking her body in place. Despite the longsword still clutched in her hand, she''d just laid there and watched as her life''s embers faded to nothing.


    He was hoping that same effect would happen again. If Fell Harvest''s drain successfully paralyzed the cavern Beast, then their difference in strength hardly even mattered.


    Simon would only need one well-timed grab to kill it.


    In this scenario, I suppose that makes me less of a fighter and more of an assassin. The people of Springwater had been unable to defeat the Fell Beast because they couldn''t outpace the creature''s unnatural regeneration. Simon wouldn''t do any better on that front. Raw power wasn''t the answer here.


    Yet even the most feral, hulking creatures could be toppled by a knife to the heart.


    Of course, he couldn''t expect this Beast to be as susceptible to Fell Harvest as Lucette. With respect to the monstrous slaving woman who had pushed his faith in humanity a few inches deeper underground...


    Actually, never mind, no respect necessary. From what he''d heard, she did not measure up to the cavern Beast. They weren''t remotely in the same caliber.


    Neither was Simon, but Kill and the spare Warding Orbs should help bridge the gap. It was partially why he''d boosted his Intelligence; to give the Demonic Skill a bit more oomph.


    With that in mind, Plan A could be summed up as:


    Step 1. Get reasonably close to the Fell Beast (without dying, preferably).


    Step 2. Hit it with a Kill empowered by all of Simon''s MP.


    Step 3. While the Beast is momentarily stunned, deposit all of the Warding Orbs around it in a circle, emulating Kirkelas'' prison in Caelryn Cave.


    Step 4. Fell Harvest.


    Thus, the fight would end before it ever truly began. No matter how long it took to fully Harvest the mana-engorged creature, Simon would drain and drain until every last drop of its energy had been depleted. Weakened by Kill and restrained by Wards, the Beast would be powerless to save itself, staring up with fear as Simon presided over its final moments, his gaze cold and unfeeling.


    Less of an assassin ¨C more of an executioner.


    That covers Plan A. Now, as for Plan B¨C


    His thoughts were cut short when he turned a corner and found that the staircase had ended. Approximately six feet down, there was an open doorway, its thick metal gate ripped off the hinges and tossed aside like crumpled paper.


    As soon as Simon caught sight of the entrance, an overpowering aura slammed into him in a tidal wave of emotion. Whereas Kirkelas'' prison room had felt oppressive, dominating, and pitiless, this sensation was one of dread and despair. As if the Sealed Demon had been an apex predator, while the Fell Beast was cornered prey.


    Desperate cornered prey. The kind that would tear your throat out in a panic.


    If Simon hadn''t already built up a tolerance to Fell auras when visiting Kirkelas, he would''ve probably struggled to maintain his balance. Nevertheless, his knees still trembled ¨C which made it difficult to assist Katarina when the woman nearly collapsed.


    "What is that?" she murmured, eyes wide as she leaned on him for support. "It can''t be the...I''ve seen Fell Beasts before, they weren''t...we aren''t even inside the cavern yet."


    "Yeah. It''s strong. There''s no shame in staying behind."


    Katarina glanced forward at the entrance to the cavern, then back at the claustrophobic staircase they''d descended from. A fierce debate took place beneath her expression, weighing the pros and cons of waiting alone in a creepy-ass underground hallway versus waltzing straight into a potential deathtrap.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    To Simon''s surprise, she eventually gestured forward, a determined grimace on her face. The transmigrator took point, feeling increasingly concerned, but wanting to size up the Beast before making any rash judgments. Katarina followed.


    Both of them started questioning their decision the instant they stepped inside.


    This cavern was even more spacious than the one housing the Sealed Demon of Ruination. It was hundreds of feet wide, and far taller...with dim lights barely illuminating a scene out of a nightmare. Bloody stains of viscera streaked across the rocky floors, as if numerous people had been dragged or thrown with great force, their bodies rupturing and spilling out like squeezed toothpaste tubes.


    Nine corpses were visible among the carnage. Some had been stripped of flesh, not a drop of blood on their skeletons, virtually licked clean. Others looked half-eaten, their assailant distracted by other prizes partway through its meal.


    The people in Jonathan''s clinic were those who''d managed to escape the Fell Beast''s wrath. These were the people who hadn''t.


    Pieces of rock and debris were also scattered around the cavern. The solid stone floor had been dented in various locations, as if hammered by the fist of a rampaging colossus. Other sections appeared scratched and scarred, with long, frantic lines carved from what could only be a Beast''s claws.


    In the center of the cavern, Simon saw a raised platform. It was connected to a winding apparatus that snaked down from the ceiling ¨C presumably to feed water up into Springwater''s plaza fountain. And on top of that platform, clutching the glowing blue Water Artifact in its tender embrace...


    Was the Fell Beast.


    Twice the height of a man, and with ashen gray skin pulled tightly over its frame, the Beast was a creature of contradictions. It seemed both muscular and emaciated, with bulging limbs contrasted against a torso so thin that its rib cage nearly pierced through flesh.


    Despite the wickedly sharp blades protruding from its hands and feet, the monster was attempting to grasp the Water Artifact as if its claws were fingers. It was a Beast, yet when looking at its two legs, two arms, and vaguely humanoid body shape, someone with exceptionally poor vision might have squinted from afar and assumed it to be a person.


    Any notions of humanity went out the window when Simon''s gaze traveled up to the Fell Beast''s face. Instead of eyes, ears, or a nose, three-quarters of the monster''s head was taken up by a jarringly gargantuan mouth. Said mouth was currently hanging open, drool and saliva collecting in a puddle below. Within, there were four rows of thousands of teeth that ranged in size from pinpoint needles to miniature daggers.


    I hear...a sound. Heart pounding, blood pumping, Simon focused his attention. Think it''s coming from the Beast. He peered closer, observing how the creature''s body moved rhythmically up and down, its torso heaving, almost in time with¨C


    Realization hit him like a bucket of poured ice water.


    The Fell Beast was weeping.


    Some indiscernible emotion coiled in Simon''s gut. Identi-


    Invisible knives stabbed behind his eyeballs. For an instant, his vision wavered as the world shifted and churned. It was reminiscent of when he''d used Identify on Kirkelas, except less severe ¨C meaning it didn''t have the good grace to make him black out and spare him the pain.


    Then the sensation passed. Just like that. It faded so quickly he was half-convinced he''d imagined it.


    Until the Beast''s Identify window popped up.


    Name: The Ravenous Wanderer


    Description: Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Always. So hungry. Eat. Eat. Feast. Still hungry. Why. Stop. Please. PLEASE. MAKE THE HUNGER STOP.


    Estimated Level: 39 (17 when not mana-gorged)


    Someone let out a harsh intake of breath. Maybe it was him, or maybe it was Katarina. Perhaps both of them.


    Regardless, the Fell Beast immediately ceased its weeping. With jerky, stiff motions, its body shifted. An eyeless face turned to stare at them.


    And in a voice like sandpaper dragging across their skin, it spoke.


    "...Mana...?"


    We shouldn''t be here.


    The thought came with startling clarity, all of the details Simon had seen and witnessed coalescing into one singular fact. They shouldn''t be here. This creature exceeded even his most pessimistic expectations. It was a foe he should be confronting months if not years from now, with more Levels and combat experience and reliable allies at his side.


    Plan B it is, he determined, with rising urgency. Plan B was much simpler than its predecessor. If the very first step of Plan A was unfeasible...if Simon didn''t believe he could get reasonably close to the Fell Beast...without dying...


    Then they needed to run. "Kata¨C"


    It was his Shapeshifted right arm that saved them.


    When Simon turned to warn Katarina, his demonic limb tensed, as if resonating with the Fell aura in the air. Its reaction seemed involuntary, like how some people''s bones ached before rainfall.


    That was warning enough.


    Instinct propelled him. No movement was wasted. In one motion, Simon pushed Katarina with all of his Strength, using the rebound to help launch himself backwards as he jumped. They both went flying in opposite directions.


    Less than a second later, a darkened beam of Fell energy lanced through the space where they''d been standing. The Beast screeched as it poured a concentrated line of mana out of its gaping maw. Its mana-ray impacted the hallway behind the front entrance, causing everything to shake as the cavern trembled like an earthquake.


    The wounded Springwater soldiers had never mentioned anything like this. Either it''d slipped their mind ¨C highly unlikely ¨C or the Beast hadn''t used this attack on them. Hadn''t needed to.


    We were fed bad intel. What else was the Fell Beast capable of when sufficiently motivated?


    The mana-beam dissipated shortly after. In its wake, it left a picture of unfettered destruction. The cavern''s front entrance had been demolished, the ceiling caving in entirely. An impenetrable wall of rock was obstructing what had once been a path to safety.


    Escape was now impossible.


    The creature tilted its head at Simon''s demon arm. Although it lacked most facial features, he could still guess what it was feeling based on body language alone. Similar to the Red-Eyed Hunter, there was a primal fear of Demons lurking behind the Ravenous Wanderer''s sightless gaze.


    Yet that fear was nothing compared to the hatred. Nothing compared to the hunger.


    "GiVe Me YoUR MANA!"

 Chapter 12.1

    The Beast let go of the Water Artifact, bounding forward on all fours. Its movement wasn''t graceful ¨C it almost seemed off-balance ¨C but the sheer strength in its legs rocketed the creature towards Simon like a heat-seeking missile. Within mere seconds, it had already crossed half the length of the cavern.


    Simon reached into Inventory and swept his arm out. Ten Warding Orbs fell out in a line, covering less space than he''d hoped for.


    With an ear-splitting howl, the Ravenous Wanderer skidded to a halt about twenty feet away. It collapsed to its knees, clutching its malformed head with both hands, writhing in what appeared to be a state of tortured anguish.


    "No no no NO NO no no no no NO¨C"


    On and on its ravings went, muttering with a foul, nauseating voice that crawled into Simon''s ears like squirming centipedes. The Beast slammed its head against the floor, leaving a thick dent in the rock ¨C but no blood or visible sign of injury.


    Okay. Simon released a breath he hadn''t known he''d been holding. I''m alive. Decent start.


    If the creature was smart, he wouldn''t be. His line of Warding Orbs was a flimsy, paper-thin defense. It could have thrown debris to scatter the Wards, or jumped high into the air and leapt over, or simply gone around.


    Mentally unstable. Only intelligent enough for broken speech. Disadvantages to exploit.


    For all they were worth.


    Leaving his Wards on the ground, Simon hurried over to Katarina. The woman had picked herself up, pale and wide-eyed as she stared at the Ravenous Wanderer. "Ancient One take us," she breathed. "That Beast could give Helmund''s ghastly son trouble."


    Simon didn''t waste time with small talk. Blue light flashed as he deposited a crossbow, a quiver full of bolts, and his stockpile of poisons in front of her. "Are you a good shot?" he asked, his tone clipped and hurried.


    Katarina blinked. "Yes. Why¨C"


    "Need you on fire support. Fell Beast wants me. I''ll distract. You shoot. Coat the arrows with poison. Can''t hurt."


    "That''s ¨C no, wait! Slaying the Beast is your purpose for coming here. Why must I endanger myself?"


    He put on a hollow grin. "Because we''ll die if you don''t. I can''t beat it on my own."


    "...WHAT?"


    As Katarina came to terms with her newest revelation, Simon glanced over at the Ravenous Wanderer. The creature was still writhing, but less so, gradually piecing together its self-composure. Clock''s ticking.


    "I don''t understand," the woman finally said. "You''re a Demon. You''re powerful! You, you withstood a blast of sacred mana without even flinching."


    "I''m uniquely resistant to sacred mana. That''s all. Doesn''t mean I''m strong."


    She shook her head, trapped in the ''denial'' phase of the five stages. "No. That can''t be. You looked so confident! I wouldn''t have followed you here if I thought the Beast would pose a threat to you! This¨C"


    "Katarina."


    Simon placed his hands on her shoulders. "Afterwards, everything will be explained. But right now? I need you."


    He locked eyes with his companion, impressing the severity of their situation onto her with a gaze of iron. "Are you up to this?"


    For several horrible seconds, he didn''t think she was.


    Then a fire lit inside her. Whether it was one of heroism, self-preservation, or spite, Simon couldn''t say. Whatever the reason, Katarina promptly reached down, grabbing the crossbow and opening up a vial of poison.


    "Don''t let it get near me," she stated, all business. "One blow from that horrid creature, and you lose your archer."


    The woman''s voice lowered, muttering to herself as she began applying toxins to each crossbow bolt. "That explanation had better be extensive."


    Simon allowed himself a smile.


    He turned back to face the Beast. It had mostly stopped trembling ¨C their reprieve was almost over.


    Slowly, cautiously, the transmigrator approached. Part of him was inclined to rush forward and immediately try a Fell Harvest while the Beast was still preoccupied.


    The half-eaten corpses in Simon''s peripheral vision warned him otherwise. If his Skill didn''t completely immobilize the creature like it had for Lucette, then he would only be adding himself to the rotting mass of Springwater''s best and brightest.


    Instead, he raised his demonic arm and pointed it at the Ravenous Wanderer. The command to Kill whispered at the edges of his thoughts, an urge to slaughter the monstrosity before him, practically begging to be unleashed. It wouldn''t actually kill the Beast ¨C not with just 90 MP ¨C but sapping its stamina would go a long way.


    However, the Wanderer was fast. Inordinately fast. It''s also clearly attracted to mana. By gathering the energy for Kill, I''ll likely draw its attention. If it snaps out of its stupor, then dodges, that''s one of my major resources down.


    His spell could hit. Could. Simon didn''t like the odds.


    Yet considering how slim his chances were of surviving the next five minutes...betting on uncertainty might be his only real option.


    As a last-ditch effort before rolling the dice, he swept his eyes across the cavern. He looked up and down, searching for any possible advantage, for something he could use to¨C


    ...Hmm.


    Identify.


    Simon lowered his arm.


    In the brief time remaining to him, a plan was formed.


    He didn''t wait until the Beast had collected itself. Running up to the line of Warding Orbs, Simon leaned down and strafed sideways. Ten blue shimmers illuminated the cavern as he placed them into Inventory one-by-one.


    When the Warding auras had all vanished, the Ravenous Wanderer twitched, snapping out of a trance. Its bulbous head jerked towards him.


    "MaNa..."


    Joints creaked and cracked as it stood up, turning to face him. "Mana...hAte...nEEd...GIVE."


    Simon circled around as the Beast lunged. He extended his left arm, producing a single Ward from Inventory in his hand. The creature shrieked, hesitating, as if the radiant light had seared it like hot pokers¨C


    And then it lunged again, pushing past the pain. Its moment of hesitation had been just that; a moment.


    Throwing himself backwards, Simon scattered five Wards onto the ground once more. That was enough to deter the Ravenous Wanderer entirely. It shrunk into itself, cowering, hands clenching as its claws pierced through its own palms.


    But it wasn''t shaking nearly as much as before.


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    Testing complete, Simon noted. Results: One Warding Orb is insufficient. About five Wards needed to delay the Beast''s advance. Unfortunately, it is also growing accustomed to the exposure, rapidly building a tolerance to warding auras.


    Conclusion: The more he relied on his Warding Orbs for protection, the less effective they would be. If the Ravenous Wanderer ever reached a point where it could fully resist them, even for a second...


    He and Katarina were dead.


    On cue, a crossbow bolt sank into the Fell Beast''s back. The creature hissed, its focus shifting to the source of whatever annoyance had given it the equivalent of a paper cut.


    It''s distracted. Breathing in, Simon extended his demonic arm. Testing: Reflexes.


    Forming the intent to Kill wasn''t difficult. He didn''t have the deep-seated, personal resentment for the Wanderer that he''d felt for Lucette, but the two weren''t that different. One was a monster that had doomed thousands of people to a slow, miserable death ¨C while the other was merely on the verge of doing so. It was easy for Simon to desire this Beast''s death with every fiber of his being.


    And with how it kept ranting and weeping...putting it down might very well be an act of mercy, regardless.


    Moderating Kill''s output was a much harder task. Simon suppressed the temptation to imbue his spell with the sum totality of his mana, nudging just a trickle inwards. Empowered by a scant 10 MP, the blackened orb that formed was far less impressive than before.


    Perfect. He let loose, firing his demonic mana at the Ravenous Wanderer.


    Several things happened in quick succession. The Beast''s attention snapped back to Simon. It raised its clawed arm, as if to deflect the attack. Then it thought better of that idea, leaping sideways and dodging the projectile with room to spare.


    Simon pursed his lips. Testing complete. Results...not great.


    Despite being caught off-guard and weakened by Warding Orbs, the creature had been able to react, make a decision, then change its mind and make a separate decision, all in the span of the time it took for Kill to travel a short distance. While the Fell Beast''s intelligence and temperament were questionable, it obviously knew how to fight ¨C or at least how to respond to threats.


    Conclusion: Kill wouldn''t hit unless the Beast was completely restrained.


    Simon glanced behind himself. Not even close to my destination, and the Wanderer won''t be stopped for long by five Wards. Could put all ten down, make a run for it...but if it wises up and knocks them aside from afar, I''ll be left with no protection. What should¨C


    Another crossbow bolt thunked into the Ravenous Wanderer''s shoulder. The previous bolt had already been expelled, pushed out of its body by the Beast''s absurd regeneration. It still took offense to the interruption, whipping around to face Katarina.


    Desperate times, desperate measures. Simon scooped up his Wards again. Time for the first gamble of many.


    He produced a longsword from Inventory and threw it, smirking as the bladed edge sank into the beast''s lower back. As long as he didn''t summon Fell mana, the Beast wouldn''t be instantly alerted to his actions.


    "...DeMOn..."


    This time, the Ravenous Wanderer didn''t react immediately. Meaty, pulsating legs sluggishly turned around, shuffling like a decaying zombie. Ignoring a third bolt that came to pierce through its leg, the monster panted heavily, its eyeless gaze drawn straight to Simon''s right arm.


    "Why?" Its mouth split open, revealing a cavernous maw with more teeth than any living creature should ever need. "Why...yoU? WHY! YOU!"


    Bellowing a hideous scream that shook the ground, the Fell Beast charged. Simon had been retreating while it was wasting time, attempting to put space between them ¨C only for that distance to be closed in the blink of an eye.


    Claws the size of shortswords raced towards his heart.


    Shouldn''t use the Wards. Can''t let it build a resistance. Need it to stay susceptible for longer.


    With a flash of blue, a pristine blade appeared in Simon''s left hand. Excitement pumped through his veins as the choice was made.


    After all...wasn''t HP just another type of resource to be used?


    Glove of Minor Power. "Open wide," Simon said, a feral grin adorning his features.


    Beast collided with transmigrator. In the same moment, a longsword thrust into the monster''s mouth, piercing up through its skull¨C


    As the transmigrator''s torso was shredded like confetti.


    After Kirkelas and Lucette, Simon thought he would be accustomed to enduring mid-battle injuries. And to an extent, he was...


    But pain was still pain.


    No amount of mental preparation could dull the explosion of agony that erupted within his body. There was no true way to prepare for the sensation of Fell claws rending him asunder. Of its corrosive touch eating away at skin and muscle. Of multiple vital organs shutting down at once.


    HP: 28 / 120


    Three-fourths of his HP. Gone. With one attack.


    His only saving grace was that the monster didn''t go for a follow-up attack. It just tilted its head, as if bemused by the longsword lodged inside it.


    Simon chuckled, blood dripping from his mouth. Compared to what the Ravenous Wanderer could have done to him, this was basically a love tap. If it hadn''t been distracted by the blade suddenly introduced to its cranium, or if the transmigrator hadn''t increased his Vitality earlier that day, then he would be in pieces right about now.


    Testing. Complete. Results. Predictable.


    Conclusion: Don''t...don''t get hit again.


    He shouldn''t even be standing. Simon was fairly certain that the Beast''s strike had severed his spine. It was only thanks to the Transmigrator''s Body Trait that his torso hadn''t fallen apart like an imbalanced Jenga tower.


    ''Your body has become like that of a fictional game character. Grievous wounds will not affect your combat efficacy. You barely bleed from injuries. Lastly, you will only die when your HP reaches zero.''


    To him, wounds were more cosmetic than hindering. As long as he possessed the will to fight ¨C and his limbs were still attached to his body ¨C he could keep on trudging along.


    Didn''t do anything for the pain, though. Shame.

 Chapter 12.2

    Katarina''s fourth crossbow bolt slammed into the Fell Beast. Or was it fifth? Simon was having difficulty keeping track, what with his flesh having been torn to ribbons and all.


    Her aim was impeccable, but it didn''t seem to be amounting to much. The Beast hadn''t slowed, and its injuries kept healing. They couldn''t even know if the poison was affecting it in the slightest.


    As if making a mockery of their efforts, it bit down on Simon''s longsword, crunching forged metal like soft candy. The Ravenous Wanderer chewed just twice ¨C without swallowing ¨C before opening its mouth once more. Nothing was inside, as though the blade had been annihilated by a black hole.


    Through a disquieting haze of agony, Simon cast Identify. Maybe its Description would inform him if Katarina''s poison-tipped bolts were actually doing anything.


    It took him a moment to remember that he''d already used Identify on the Beast, and that the Skill''s Description didn''t change after being used once. He sighed, dismissed the window¨C


    Then paused.


    Identify. The window popped up again. He looked past its Description, finding what he''d barely noticed before.


    Estimated Level: 34 (17 when not mana-gorged)


    At the onset of their battle, it had been at 39.


    Unlike my own Level, ''Estimated Level'' isn''t a static number. It alters based on the target''s condition. Gerold''s Estimated Level was lower than usual due to his illness, and the Beast''s Estimated Level is inflated by the mana it absorbed from the Water Artifact.


    Furthermore, the Ravenous Wanderer had been wounded numerous times so far. One of those injuries would have been fatal to a creature without Fell-enhanced regeneration.


    Healing expends mana. So did that mouth-laser the Beast fired off. It also isn''t draining the Water Artifact anymore. If we can keep hurting it, win the war of attrition, its Estimated Level will continue to decrease. It''ll grow weaker, less powerful. And if we can reduce its Level all the way down to the base number, we''ll be left with...


    A deranged Fell Beast that was still more than double his Level.


    Well. Simon centered his thoughts, embracing the pain as best he could. It''s a goal to strive for, I suppose.


    Willing his feet to move, he started running towards his destination again. The sensation was...disconcerting. His brain and body were in conflict, with his body screaming that he shouldn''t be alive, and his brain pushing his body to get moving anyway. The flesh begrudgingly obeyed the commands of the mind, transmitting feedback like your intestines should be spilling out of you while still managing a pace faster than what Simon had been capable of on Earth.


    Transmigrator''s Body was artificially holding him together. Without it, he would be a red, squishy pile on the cavern floor.


    Simon glanced over his shoulder, checking to see if the Fell Beast was drawing near. His flagging heart skipped yet another beat at what he saw. The Beast had unhinged its jaw, its mouth opening impossibly wide as pitch-black energy amassed within.


    It was going to fire a mana laser at him. The last one had been powerful enough to devastate the cavern''s staircase entrance. He''d dodged it before, but if the creature''s aim was better this time...


    Making an executive decision, Simon reached into Inventory, prepared to fling all ten Warding Orbs at the creature. Doing so would put lifesaving resources out of reach, sacrificing long-term safety for a temporary reprieve, but he didn''t have any¨C


    The Wanderer closed its mouth.


    Simon did a double-take as surprise blended with his pain-addled thoughts. It changed its mind? He kept his Wards inside Inventory, trying to puzzle out this new behavior. Does it want to conserve energy? Or is there some other reason?


    His questions were answered by the Beast itself. Saliva began dripping from the corner of its tightly-shut maw. Its head shifted, angling so that if it did possess eyes, they would''ve been entirely focused on Simon''s right arm.


    Of course. His lips twitched with amusement. It''s the ''Ravenous'' Wanderer.


    It had eaten the corpses of its victims, devoured limbs from the still-living residents of Springwater ¨C and now it wanted to take a bite of Simon. As much as it seemed to hate Demons, it would rather add him to the menu than destroy his body with a laser. Apparently, flesh was rich in mana.


    Mana-rich flesh...


    Dots connected inside Simon''s head. With a thought, he accessed Inventory.


    Blue light shone as Stuart the Rat''s meat appeared on the ground.


    It was like dropping raw steak in front of a starving hyena. An ear-piercing screech echoed as the twelve-foot tall Wanderer pounced on Stuart''s meat. Rows of jagged, misshapen teeth tore apart Fell-tainted flesh with astounding voracity. A feast that could have served a family of four started rapidly vanishing.


    Simon could only laugh. Enjoy the appetizer! The sound of his mirth mingled with the Beast''s lamentations. One of Katarina''s poisoned arrows sank into the creature''s flank, but it ignored her, crying and weeping as it tried to satiate the endless void of its own hunger.


    Simon just laughed even harder. Glad Stuart was good for something! Tears were streaming down his face. Probably should''ve dumped his meat long ago to make room for more caravan supplies...but it was just so *unique*! When''s the next time I''m going to find a giant rat? Call me a hoarder, but¨C


    "HEY! HEY! WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?!"


    Katarina''s outburst struck Simon with a chilling dose of lucidity. Peering down, he realized that his legs weren''t running anymore.


    Huh. That didn''t make sense. The whole point of this repeated cat-and-mouse game was so that he could eventually reach the other end of the cavern.


    Each move Simon made ¨C whether it was delaying with Warding Orbs, ejecting Stuart''s meat, or even sacrificing his own HP ¨C was all for that singular purpose. By standing still and laughing, he was wasting the opportunity afforded by an increasingly limited pool of options.


    Why had he stopped running? When had he stopped running?


    Simon looked inward for answers...and found a mind in disarray. The Beast''s corrosive mana had lingered inside his body, sinking into his veins and nerve endings, traveling up to his brain. His thoughts were a storm of mania and nonsense, impelling him to laugh and cry and sob and yell and run and kill and feast.


    Yet within that tempest of contrasting emotions, one notion stood above the rest. One thought that drove all others.


    Hurts so much.


    That true and pure feeling told him everything he needed to know. Simon was compromised. Pain that he''d believed he could push through was directly impacting his decision-making process.


    Move, he told his legs. They refused to obey. Throw, he asked his arms. No dice.


    It was as if the signals sent from his mind were being scrambled by the Ravenous Wanderer''s agonizing touch.


    This wasn''t something that a burst of willpower could fix.


    Another *thunk* of an arrow drew his attention to the Beast. It had just about finished its meal. Soon enough, a whirlwind of teeth and claws would be upon him again.


    Simon''s lips crept into a smile.


    Katarina likely interpreted the expression as a symptom of his growing mania, but in truth, it came from the one part of his thoughts that still belonged to him. He smiled because he''d finally figured out what to do.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    This pain was overwhelming. There was too much of it to just...shove aside. Simon couldn''t isolate it to the distant recesses of his mind.


    So he isolated himself instead.


    You''re not here.


    You''re not here.


    You''re not here.


    The mantra was a familiar one.


    You''re not here.


    You''re not here.


    Simon hadn''t utilized it for several years now, hadn''t wanted to, but...needs must.


    You''re not here. None of this is happening to you.


    You''re not here. This pain is not your own.


    You''re not here.


    You''re just looking in.


    --


    The human consciousness named Simon breathed an internal sigh of relief.


    Like an observer from on high, he sat back, comforted by the fact that he was untouchable. While pain still resided within his vessel of blood and bone, it was no worse than hearing faint rumbling noises in the distance, or feeling a breeze through layers of clothing. The sensations were detached, muted.


    They belonged to someone else.


    Peering through his body''s twin orbs of sight, Simon examined the battlefield with clinical interest. He spotted the Ravenous Wanderer mid-leap, teeth bared, ready to bite down on helpless prey. He spotted Katarina Cartier standing at the opposite end of the cavern, shooting arrows with a look of fierce determination on her face.


    I''m not too late, the consciousness thought. My flesh is still alive.


    Mostly. Simon frowned as his empty vessel started to slump over. Just a few moments without someone in the driver''s seat, and that was all it took to start slacking off? How sloppy.


    Get up, he commanded. You have work to do.


    Like a clockwork automaton, his body turned on its heel and resumed its frantic sprint towards The Destination. Its pain belonged to someone else, so there was no conflict with the consciousness'' orders. Simon told his vessel where to go, and it obeyed, a dutiful puppet on a string.


    The Wanderer''s noxious mana held no sway over an outside observer.


    Unfortunately, too many precious seconds had already been wasted. Simon''s meat-body wasn''t anywhere close enough to The Destination yet. It needed more time.


    Scattering a defensive line of Warding Orbs should work...once more, perhaps. After that, Simon couldn''t guarantee their efficacy. This Fell Beast was hungry and instinctual, not outright stupid, and animals in search of food had a tendency of becoming the cleverest creatures in the world to get what they desired.


    It would learn to circumvent the Wards if that card was played too often.


    What other resources are available? I can''t sacrifice my vessel''s flesh again so soon, and Stuart''s meat is depleted. That leaves¨C


    Simon smirked as the process of elimination led him to its inevitable conclusion. I had wanted to save MP for Kill...but this is a suitable alternative.


    He commanded his body to raise its hands and face the Beast.


    What a loathsome creature. As Simon examined the Wanderer''s abominable visage, a distasteful grimace stretched across his features. He allowed the emotion, nurturing it, letting his antipathy bloom like a flower in spring. And this beast ¨C this *mongrel* dares to harm my vessel? To sully what is *mine*?


    Mana gathered in his flesh-body''s hands. That cannot stand.


    Drawing upon a twisted sense of megalomaniacal authority, Simon made his intent known to the world.


    Preserve my vessel.


    He would be returning there shortly, after all.


    Suffer not the touch of Beasts.


    It had ravaged this body once. It would never do so again.


    Shield me.


    So he decreed, as that which was untouchable.


    A shimmering rectangle of mana materialized in front of Simon''s vessel. Translucent, and colored like the space between stars, it covered far past the height and width of his body. He poured all of his vessel''s MP into the Barrier''s construction, hardening it as much as possible.


    The Ravenous Wanderer raked both claws downward. Its strength was crushing; if its attack had connected, Simon''s fragile meat would have been left in an unrecognizable state. Yet his Barrier still held fast...


    For about half a second. With a trill of cracking glass, the translucent rectangle shattered. Hundreds of blackened mana particles dispersed in all directions, shimmering like sunlight reflected by the morning dew.


    Simon had already ordered his vessel to resume its sprint before then. This result was well-within acceptable parameters. If anything, considering that there''d only been 90 MP to allocate for the Barrier''s construction, it had honestly lasted longer than anticipated.


    As a side benefit, the Fell Beast appeared distracted by the explosion of mana particles. Like a cat chasing a laser pointer, it kept trying to grab them out of the air, howling in distress when its claws swiped at nothing.


    Closer. The vessel had crossed approximately two-thirds of the necessary distance to The Destination. Getting closer. Just needed to delay the Beast for a bit longer. And then...


    Then he would win.


    ...Or Simon''s plan would fail, leading to a swift, grisly demise. Either way, his worries would be much lesser very soon.


    The Ravenous Wanderer broke out of its stupor, bounding towards the vessel yet again. He commanded his meat-puppet to lay out five ¨C no, seven of the ten Warding Orbs. More harsh screeching filled the cavern as the Beast stopped in its tracks.


    Except it wasn''t cowering this time. Unlike before, the creature stood its ground, staring at the Wards with a sightless gaze of malice.


    Not good. Some of Simon''s emotion leaked through to his vessel, causing it to wince. The Beast has adjusted too quickly. At this rate, even retrieving the Warding Orbs was a risky prospect ¨C the monster would gut him the instant they went back in Inventory.


    He was about to throw caution to the wind and leave the Wards behind when a crossbow bolt pierced directly through the Wanderer''s skull. It was a stellar shot that, against any normal opponent, would have brought their battle to an immediate end.


    The Ravenous creature just turned around, its attention shifting back to Katarina Cartier. Simon was no expert on Fell Beast body language, but its posture seemed remarkably similar to someone who was thoroughly fed up with an incessant, nagging mosquito.


    "That was my last arrow!" Katarina Cartier called out. She had situated herself near the caved-in entrance. "Poison''s out too! I think I should¨C"


    "HuMAn."


    Whatever she had been about to suggest was smothered by the Fell Beast''s warbling, distorted voice.


    "YoU woN''T...COMPLETE ME."


    Its mouth opened, mana coalescing inside. Katarina Cartier froze as she realized what was going to happen next.


    Simon performed a rough mental estimate. With Katarina Cartier used as a diversion, and if his vessel ran at full speed...he gave it an 80% chance of reaching The Destination in time. Those were good odds.


    Strange, then, then it was already heading in the wrong direction.


    His vessel jumped past the line of Warding Orbs, its sanctuary abandoned. Just before the Wanderer''s mouth-laser was unleashed, Simon reached out and gripped the colossal creature''s upper thigh, his Shapeshifted hand sinking five taloned claws deep into flesh.


    Fell Harvest.

 Chapter 12.3

    What followed was the single most disorienting moment of Simon''s young life.


    ''Returning'' from his least-favorite coping mechanism was always a crapshoot even under stable circumstances. The feeling of being inside his body again ¨C as a participant, not an observer ¨C was like giving sight to a blind man. Or like forcibly inserting sight into a blind man as they were strapped to a table.


    While the Beast''s corrosive touch was slowly beginning to fade, that pain had simply been exchanged with an influx of overwhelming sensations. Absence replaced by substance. Tingling skin and pumping blood and emotions that Simon couldn''t pretend weren''t his own.


    He would be paying for it later. Dissociating to that extent didn''t come without consequences.


    Simon let out an involuntary gasp as mana flowed into him. Fell Harvest was draining the Ravenous Wanderer of its energy. Like shoving a waterfall through a straw, his MP instantly shot up to its maximum of 90.


    He kept Harvesting. With nowhere left to go, the excess mana dissipated into the surrounding air, filtering out of his overtaxed body to avoid ripping him apart from within. It was pain compounded with discordant sensations compounded with more pain¨C


    Yet he still didn''t let go. If he couldn''t divert the Beast''s focus, Katarina would die.


    With a savage roar, the Wanderer let loose its mana-laser. A destructive beam of energy shot forth across the cavern. Fell Harvest had only caused the monster to briefly hesitate, delaying its assault by just a split-second.


    And that made all the difference in the world.


    Katarina threw herself to the ground as a concentrated line of pitch-black mana passed above, atomizing several hair follicles that had lingered in the air for too long. It carved through the solid rock wall behind her like melted butter, nearly triggering a cave-in as the cavern itself seemed to tremble with concern.


    If she had been the Beast''s sole prey, perhaps it would have tilted its head down and erased her from existence right then and there. But a destructive beam required copious amounts of mana ¨C mana that was currently being plundered by someone of far greater import.


    As if an internal valve had been turned off, the mana-laser abruptly ended. Simon leaped away, disengaging Fell Harvest the second that Katarina was clear. The Wanderer''s claws swiped at empty air as he scrambled back over the line of protective Warding Orbs.


    Its frustrated cries were like music to his ears. He chanced a quick Identify, grinning viciously at what he found.


    Estimated Level: 28 (17 when not mana-gorged)


    Weaker. From 39, to 34, to 28. We''re chipping away at its mana.


    His grin faltered. Also confirmed that Fell Harvest won''t immobilize the Beast like it did to Lucette. Expected, but still unfortunate. One less potential option. That just leaves¨C


    Simon''s train of thought derailed as he noticed something new. At the opposite end of the cavern, right where the Beast had unleashed its fury, there was...


    Ah.


    He knew what he had to do.


    Before anything else, Simon deposited his remaining three Warding Orbs near the Ravenous Wanderer. All ten Wards were out now. No point in holding them in reserve ¨C not when the Beast had grown too accustomed to their aura. They couldn''t be safely retrieved anymore.


    Then, as he took off running for what would likely be the last time, Simon started yelling at the top of his lungs.


    "KATARINA! GET GOING!" His words came out strained and breathy. The Wanderer must have nicked his vocal cords when it sliced through him earlier. "ENTRANCE IS CLEAR! YOU NEED TO LEAVE!"


    It took her a couple moments to process what he was saying. Her head whipped towards the cavern''s front entrance, comprehension dawning on her features.


    By a stroke of luck, the Beast''s mana-laser had demolished some of the rocks blocking the staircase leading up to Springwater Village. There was just enough room for a person to squeeze past.


    She could escape.


    "That''s..." Katarina stared longingly at the open passageway to freedom. With visible effort, she tore her gaze away, turning back towards Simon and the Fell Beast. "What about y¨C"


    "IT WOULD CHASE ME! IF IT GETS UP TO SPRINGWATER, EVERYONE DIES! GO WARN THEM! NOW!"


    Katarina was too far away for Simon to see whatever expression was on her face. He thought he saw a flash of indecision before she made a break for the entrance, disappearing up the staircase, but that could''ve easily been a product of his own imagination.


    Maybe he just wanted to believe that she''d considered keeping him company in his last moments.


    I''m not going to make it. He knew that already. Had known it for some time now, really. It would be close, a veritable photo finish, but...


    That was the problem with adopting a candid outlook on life. You couldn''t delude yourself into hoping for a brighter future.


    Simon felt no surprise when the Ravenous Wanderer suddenly reared up. Roaring with determination, undaunted by the light of the Wards'' aura, it plunged its claws into the ground. Like a river of filth, Fell mana poured out from its body, coursing underground, racing beneath the Warding Orbs¨C


    And then exploding upwards. An eruption of energy blasted the floor apart with incredible force, scattering the Wards all around the cavern.


    It was unnecessarily dramatic compared to, say, jumping over, but the end result was identical. The Beast had finally resisted the Warding Orbs for long enough to take action.


    Simon''s sanctuary had been demolished.


    Once more, he felt no surprise as the Ravenous monster sped towards him. And if he felt any disappointment, then it was faint ¨C less of a flare and more of an ember. He could hardly complain when this was merely the consequences of his own actions.


    I wonder...


    Is this my punishment for not letting Katarina die?


    Simon produced the portable Warding Orb that he''d looted from Relia. It was much weaker than the Wards designed to be embedded into stationary structures, but the band of slavers had still sworn by it. He tossed the portable Ward backwards, hoping to delay the creature''s advance by a second or two.


    The Beast paused for just a moment as it swatted the item out of the air, barely slowing at all.


    If I had used her as a diversion, kept running as she got lasered, then my plan would''ve succeeded. It was a fair trade ¨C one life for the sake of thousands. The triage system at its finest. Logically, rationally, objectively...by any metric, it was the right choice to make. I was fully aware of that.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Instead, I chose sentiment over pragmatism. Now Springwater Village will pay the price.


    Claws and teeth fell upon him. Simon cast another Barrier, pushing 90 MP into the spell.


    The Ravenous Wanderer had lost a sizable portion of its mana. Its Estimated Levels could attest to that. Compared to before, it was measurably weaker.


    That didn''t help the Barrier very much. It strained and buckled, already starting to crack as Simon compelled his feet to move faster.


    No, not just Springwater ¨C all of Valtia will suffer for my hubris. I know for a fact that this world is fated to die in less than a year. Without my intervention, it has no future. That isn''t arrogance; it''s simply the truth.


    Prioritizing Katarina''s life was just a subsection of a much bigger mistake: agreeing to help Springwater in the first place. The population of one random village wasn''t worth risking myself over. I should never have journeyed down to this cavern. Should never have revealed my demonic arm at Jonathan''s clinic, either.


    The needs of the many should''ve outweighed the needs of the few.


    His Barrier shattered. The Beast didn''t waste time being distracted by its mana particles, advancing immediately. Simon''s last possible resource had been exhausted.


    Another expected outcome. He felt no surprise, no disappointment...


    And...if he was being completely honest with himself...


    No regret.


    I could have sacrificed Katarina. Sacrificed Springwater. Continued on my merry way, ignoring their plights, keeping my eye on the prize.


    All it would have taken was hating myself.


    When analyzing the leaders of Earth, Simon had subjected himself to an ungodly number of vapid speeches and worthless press statements. He''d learned all the excuses they made when explaining why they couldn''t be bothered to help people. Sometimes, those excuses were valid.


    Other times? Most of the time? It was self-serving drivel. Apathy disguised as logic. Greed masquerading as rationality.


    Simon knew how important his life was. He needed to survive for the sake of Valtia as a whole. Even so...if he''d abandoned these people here...turned away from them, treating their lives like nothing...


    Well, he wouldn''t have liked what kind of person that made him.


    After all, Simon also knew that he wasn''t some sort of infallible saint. He was flawed, and his perspective could be molded by circumstance. No action is ever made in a void ¨C if he behaved callously, then that would change him, whether he wanted it to or not.


    Not every two-faced politician or amoral billionaire had been born that way. Some of them had probably started off as relatively normal people. Then, as their power and influence grew...they''d began making excuses.


    How many of them had sold their soul in pieces, one heartless decision at a time?


    Gotta keep myself from sliding down the slippery slope, Simon mused. A heart of stone cannot beat ¨C nor can it feel for those in need. If I want to preserve my motivation to save Valtia, then I need to conduct myself like a true blue hero every now and then. When looking at it from that angle, risking myself for Springwater was actually the pragmatic, utilitarian choice.


    He almost managed to make himself believe that before the Fell Beast landed on top of him.


    It took Simon a full second to realize that he was still alive. Rather than the sharp pain of teeth grinding his flesh ¨C followed shortly by oblivion ¨C there was only the pressure of the Wanderer bearing down on his torso and limbs. The twelve-foot behemoth had casually pinned him to the ground, nearly breaking bones just by virtue of its weight alone.


    Once again, its scrutiny was focused on his Shapeshifted right arm. The Beast stared at it, transfixed, unmoving except for the slight tremors that swept throughout its body. Its behavior seemed borderline reverential, as if the demonic appendage was a divine relic that it worshiped and despised in equal measure.


    Can I... Simon attempted to use Fell Harvest, sighing when the Skill failed to activate. While his right arm might be touching the Wanderer''s body, he wasn''t grasping it. Evidently, the distinction was important, and he didn''t have enough leverage to twist his arm around and grab hold.


    He glanced back, suppressing another sigh. Three feet. The Beast had caught him just three feet before his destination. Salvation had been a hop, skip, and a jump away.


    "WhY yOu?"


    Like an ice pick stabbing into him, a disarming shiver lanced up Simon''s spine. The creature''s voice sounded even more grotesque up close. He almost preferred being subjected to its thought-scrambling mana.


    "WHY...you?" In the span of two words, its tone went from enraged to grief-stricken. "Why you?" A miserable whining noise emanated from deep within, too pathetic to induce fright, yet too repulsive to inspire empathy. "Why, why, why you?"


    The Ravenous Wanderer dipped its head lower. Thousands of razor-sharp teeth hovered inches away from Simon''s face. Although a spike of adrenaline surged through his veins, the transmigrator did not flinch.


    Maybe he should have. As the Fell Beast met his taciturn gaze, its breathing quickened, muscles tensing with an upswell of loathing.


    "Why...nOt...ME?!"


    Its mouth opened wide.


    Inside, Simon saw an endless absence of nothing; a void that was impossible to fill. The Wanderer''s ravenous hunger would never be satiated. It could consume the entire world, right down to the very last molecule, and the voracious yearnings in its core would be left begging for seconds.


    The Beast knew that as well ¨C and it hated him ever more for the knowing. Even the bliss of ignorance was denied to it.


    Simon would''ve felt a sliver of pity if he wasn''t about to be devoured.


    As the monster leaned closer, savoring its moment of victory, the transmigrator urgently ran through his list of potential options. Can''t move. No Wards. Out of MP. Fell Harvest unavailable. Can try¨C


    "Any chance we can work out a deal?" Simon hazarded. "My body regenerates after a good night''s sleep. Munch on me now, and you lose a renewable food source."


    The Beast didn''t respond. It gave no indication that it had heard him speak. Simon could barely even hear himself speak over its labored breathing and the sound of...


    ...Footsteps?


    There was a flash of crimson. A rush of motion.


    With the Wanderer''s hulking mass obscuring most of Simon''s vision, he only saw what was happening when Katarina''s knife reached around and slit the creature''s throat.

 Chapter 12.4

    She was hanging onto its back, holding on for dear life, one arm gripping the Beast and the other gripping her weapon. Cursing up a storm, the woman repeatedly thrust her knife forward, piercing Fell flesh again and again.


    It was like a needle poking at a lump of uncaring muscle. The Wanderer appeared largely unperturbed. Conversely, judging by Katarina''s expression, she seemed to be sorely regretting her decision to scale an implacable colossus ¨C yet she still didn''t let go.


    I watched her go through the passage, Simon thought, mystified. She...she changed her mind.


    She came back.


    He was so utterly shocked that he almost missed his moment.


    Then the Wanderer''s weight shifted away from his body, distracted by the mosquito''s sudden return, and it was time. Simon kicked to his feet, practically flinging himself back. A chunk of his flesh was torn off, bringing his HP dangerously close to 0, but he was free, and nothing else mattered.


    It didn''t take long. In less than a second, he had arrived at his destination ¨C a raised platform at the center of the cavern.


    Where the discarded Water Artifact laid.


    The device was shaped like a teardrop and could fit in the palm of his hand. Its glow was gentle and unassuming. He grabbed it in a hurry, whirling around to face the Fell Beast.


    Katarina had jumped off its back and retreated, leaving the creature''s loving attention on Simon yet again. Teeth gnashing, the Wanderer lunged.


    A small Artifact was raised to meet it.


    In all of nature, no element is viewed more favorably than water. It represents the origin and continuance of life itself. Water feeds, water births, and water sustains. Simon had good reason to feel perturbed by Valtia''s lack of rainfall ¨C it was tantamount to a barren, empty world.


    But despite the gifts it grants and the life it bestows, water is not benevolent. Like any other aspect of nature, it is an impartial, unfeeling force. That which is a boon when calm becomes ruination when roused. People can build castles so tall they pierce the skies, drape themselves in gilded finery and lofty titles, place themselves on the highest of pedestals, pretend that they have ascended their baseborn mortality...


    Only for raging waters to sweep away their achievements with contemptible ease. Before the might of the tides, nothing is safe.


    That was more or less the question Simon had asked earlier, when he peered across the cavern and cast Identify on the Water Artifact. He already knew that it needed to be strong enough to send a constant stream hundreds of feet up to Springwater''s plaza fountain. With that in mind ¨C and when activated at the maximum possible setting ¨C how much water pressure could the Artifact output?


    The answer: a lot.


    Torrential geysers burst forth from the tiny device held in his palm. They crashed into the Ravenous Wanderer like a truck speeding down a highway, sweeping the twelve-foot giant off its feet. Wet, distorted cries gurgled around the cavern, as if screamed from the bottom of a pool.


    Spurred on by an exhilarating sense of turnabout, Simon pursued the Beast for the first time. He dashed forward, maintaining the Artifact''s assault, following the creature as it was sent slamming into the far end wall.


    A monster-shaped dent formed in the stone, resembling something out of cartoons from simpler, nostalgic days of yore. He made a mental note to appreciate the memory when he wasn''t busy fighting for his life.


    With its back now literally up against a wall, the Wanderer found itself a hapless victim of Newton''s Third Law of Motion. It could scarcely even move, locked in place by crushing water pressure that seemed to be summoned from the oceans depths themselves. Flesh was shorn faster than it could regenerate, pulverized by nature''s inexorable indifference.


    Identify. Estimated Level: 25.


    Identify. Estimated Level: 22.


    Identify. Identify. Identify! Simon''s heartbeat was lodged firmly in his throat, his skin buzzing with anticipation. This was it. They''d won. They were¨C


    The Water Artifact deactivated.


    Between him, Katarina, and the Beast, it was impossible to say which of them was more surprised. Without warning, the Artifact''s geysers had lessened to a trickle, and then to nothing at all.


    Swallowing the unhinged laughter that threatened to escape his chest, Simon refused to panic. He cleared his thoughts of concerns ¨C valid as they were ¨C and attempted to re-activate the Artifact.


    All he got for his effort was a haughty, imperious female voice somehow emanating from the device. It sounded muffled, as if recorded on a low-quality microphone.


    "Water production has exceeded reasonable volumes. Safety mode engaged. This Artifact will be usable again after one hour''s time."


    The recorded voice tsk''d at him. "And if you were employing my lifegiving creation to commit acts of barbarism, then be a good dear and submit yourself to the local authorities for judgement."


    Simon''s eye twitched. Okay. Okay. He was standing close to the Beast''s crumpled form. It looked dazed and heavily wounded, but not dead. Identify.


    Estimated Level: 15 (17 when at standard health and mana-levels)


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    The creature had been brought below its baseline strength. However, Level 15 was still more than twice Simon''s own. The instant it gathered its wits¨C


    "FELL HARVEST!"


    There was no time to plan. He immediately leapt forward, grabbing the nearest limb with his demonic arm. With his free left arm, he produced a longsword from Inventory, stabbing and draining simultaneously, absorbing mana as he perforated the Fell Beast with fresh holes.


    Yet the creature''s stirring intensified. Even mangled and beaten, even in a state where half its body mass was missing...like a corpse animated by vile magic, the Ravenous Wanderer began to rise. Hateful grumblings slithered into Simon''s ears, a promise of imminent pain.


    His offensive output was racing against its regeneration ¨C and he was losing. It was going to recover and retaliate before he could finish it off, depleting the remnants of his HP with a single monstrous blow.


    Has to be something else I can utilize. Something for one more push. Simon plunged his sword again, wincing when it snapped off inside the Beast''s hardening muscles. What else¨C


    A lone Warding Orb soared through the air, landing close by.


    Then came a second Ward, and then a third. With each new arrival, the Beast shrunk further into itself, cowering. Resisting their Warding auras was far more difficult now than when it had been healthy and gorged on mana.


    Simon spared a brief glance behind his shoulder. Katarina was running around like a madwoman on a mission, seeking out the Warding Orbs that the Beast had previously scattered. She tossed over a fourth without even looking in their direction, turning on a dime to sprint towards the next glow of light.


    Yeah.


    I think you''ve earned that explanation.


    After that, the victor of their race was never in doubt. Fell Harvest kept draining mana as Katarina continued to procure more Wards. Eventually, the monster had degraded to the point where Simon''s basic sword stabs were having a noticeable effect.


    He knew for certain that he would cross the finish line first. It wouldn''t be an explosive finish, but that suited him just fine.


    Simon was perfectly comfortable playing the role of a silent executioner.


    "JuST...jUst waNTed..."


    Hateful grumblings became morose whimpers. The Ravenous Wanderer didn''t try any last-minute gambits. It found no hidden reserves of power in the depths of its tainted soul.


    "To be..."


    It was merely a beast caught in a trap. A rabid animal that needed to be put down.


    "...whole..."


    The Wanderer went still.


    Bit-bit-bit, its skin began to peel off. A scent of embalmed corpses permeated the air. Ashen flakes floated upwards before disintegrating, vanishing in a heartbeat, as if they''d never existed at all.


    With every passing second, it decayed further. Skin, then muscle, then bone. The process hastened rapidly¨C


    Until it was just a fading cloud of dust, nothing left remaining where there had once been a Fell Beast.


    Simon only allowed himself to believe it was gone when the system notifications started rolling in.


    Alert: The Ravenous Wanderer has been slain!


    Your Level and Stats have increased!


    Level: 6 ¡ú 11


    Strength: 18 ¡ú 20


    Dexterity: 16 ¡ú 24


    Vitality: 12 ¡ú 17


    Intelligence: 9 ¡ú 14


    A powerful life has been Harvested!


    Fell Harvest''s Rank has Increased! 1 ¡ú 2


    It will now add more stat points per Harvest!


    2 stat points added to Unspent Points!


    Simon calmly sat down, lacing taut fingers together. He looked behind his shoulder, meeting Katarina''s expectant gaze. Words were failing him ¨C so he chose to nod instead.


    His message was duly received. Katarina pumped her fists into the air, shaking with relief as she let out a throat-scratching cry of victory. "WE KILLED IT!" Frenzied laughter poured out of her in a torrent more powerful than the Water Artifact''s geysers. "IT''S DEAD! WE KILLED IT! WE! KILLED! IT!"


    That we did.


    Simon flopped back, his gaze naturally resting on the cavern''s rocky ceiling. Its plain simplicity seemed to ground him, helping him come to terms with what had just transpired.


    They shouldn''t have fought the Ravenous Wanderer. That was blatantly obvious even without the benefit of hindsight. It was an opponent which ¨C by all discernible metrics ¨C was far beyond their pay grade. Yet due to a mixture of bad luck and bad intel, they had been forced to clash with an unbeatable foe...


    And won anyway.


    So. He directed his thoughts inward. What do you think?


    A pause stretched on.


    Alert: Heroic Valor''s bonus has activated!


    For rescuing Springwater Village from a Fell Beast incursion, you have received bonus EXP!


    Your Level has increased!


    Level: 11 ¡ú 13


    8 stat points added to Unspent Points! Allocate them at will!


    Alert: Level 13 milestone reached! New options for Class Advancement available!


    More Class Advancement options will be available at Level ???


    [Not bad,] it told him.


    Simon closed his eyes, smiling as Katarina''s whooping cheers serenaded him into a well-deserved respite.

 Chapter 13.1

    "Thank you."


    Those two words, emphatically spoken, had a greater effect on Simon than he''d thought they would. "You''re quite welcome," he replied, a smile inching up his face. "I''ve¨C"


    "I mean it." The injured woman stared down at the ground, clenching both fists ¨C mostly. Her right arm convulsed with effort, but all that amounted to was a mild twitching of its fingers. Despite Jonathan''s careful ministrations, the limb would never regain full motor control. "That wretched Beast murdered my beloved. You''ve achieved vengeance in my stead."


    Simon didn''t know how to respond to that. Earlier today, this very woman had been among the petrified patients at Jonathan''s clinic, terrified just to be in the same room as him.


    A few hours could change everything.


    She turned around, peering at Springwater''s central plaza fountain. Water was flowing freely once again. Lines of people had gathered nearby, collecting the nourishment that would sustain them for another day.


    Some glanced nervously in Simon''s direction, recognizing him by the description that had spread throughout town. Most of them attempted to observe him covertly ¨C although they did a poor job of it, hiding their pointed looks and gossiping whispers with the efficacy of high school cliques huddled in the cafeteria. Several of the more courageous types slowly waved at him, hesitantly greeting their demonic savior.


    That was the closest there would be to a celebration. Springwater didn''t exactly have the provisions to throw a feast in his honor. But while the village was still in rough shape even with the Water Artifact...it was like a suffocating fog had been lifted from the streets. People were walking with a sense of renewed optimism in their gait.


    As the woman gazed upon the rejuvenated water fountain, a sort of frantic desperation alighted within her pupils. "Did we matter?"


    She whirled back towards Simon, speaking in a fast, clipped tone. "Us and everyone who died fighting the Fell Beast. Had to have mattered. We injured it so many times. That ¨C that made a difference, right?"


    No. While the Wanderer would''ve needed to expend some mana to heal its injuries, it had likely gained far more from devouring the villagers'' left-behind corpses.


    "Yes," Simon assured. "You and your people weakened the Beast. If it wasn''t already in a diminished state when I fought it...well, I may not be standing here now."


    The woman sagged with existential relief, as if any other answer would''ve crushed what remained of her spirit. "Thank you," she repeated, her dull eyes glinting with feeble sparks of life. "Thank you."


    Simon gently saw her off, ensuring that her last image of him was of a supportive smile. He hoped that she wouldn''t blame herself too harshly. Grief had a way of eating away at a person''s self, gnawing at their soul, reshaping them into something wholly unrecognizable.


    He would know.


    I''ll check on her before leaving Springwater. Oh, and the old man whose daughter fell in battle. And the two siblings who lost their parents.


    And everyone else who had personally thanked him for slaying the Beast and returning the Water Artifact. Their faces were all engraved onto his memories.


    Simon wasn''t in the transmigrator business to earn pats on the back. Whether or not people expressed gratitude to him was immaterial. If his heroic deeds went completely unnoticed, or even if others outright scorned him, it still wouldn''t change his course of action.


    Nevertheless...he had to admit that it was nice to feel appreciated.


    Seeing Lucia hobbling towards him from down the street, Simon walked up to meet her. The mayor gave him a nod, sitting down to rest her weary joints.


    "It is done," she began. "The food, medicine, and funds you bequeathed have been distributed to the wounded at Jonathan''s infirmary. Your generosity was...very well-received."


    Her gaze narrowed with suspicion. "To be clear, this does not¨C"


    "Yes, yes. This doesn''t alter our pre-existing agreement. Those supplies were a donation ¨C not a lure with strings attached."


    Simon rolled his eyes. "Don''t make me repeat myself. It''s almost as tiresome as your paranoia."


    Granted, he''d fostered that paranoia by threatening to slaughter anyone who messed with Katarina or Gerold, but it had been a long day. His capacity for humoring obstinance was currently at rock-bottom.


    Lucia continuously waiting for the other shoe to drop was a waste of both their time.


    "Apologies," the mayor said, sounding contrite. "I am unaccustomed to dealing with outsiders who don''t try to manipulate us to their own ends with every second word. You''re less of a Demon than some of the city representatives I''ve spoken to."


    Pretty sure an actual Demon would''ve found that offensive. "City higher-ups are that bad?" he asked, curious.


    Lucia put on a grin that was closer to a sneer, as if she was restraining herself from spilling the tea on dozens of self-important windbags. "In the span of half a day, you''ve done a better job at endearing yourself to my people than they ever have."


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    Acts of kindness tended to do that.


    It worked both ways as well. If Simon wasn''t on a time-sensitive mission, he would''ve contemplated staying in Springwater for longer. The breadcrumbs of positivity he''d been shown were starting to feel borderline addictive.


    I think Valtia lowered my standards too much. After Kirkelas, the slavers, and the debacle at Jonathan''s clinic, it simply felt good to feel good. The residents here were still afraid of the Demon casually strolling around, but they weren''t grabbing their torches and pitchforks either. Some even appeared genuinely grateful over what he''d done for them.


    It was helping him remember that this wasn''t just a glorified wasteland of a world. There were decent, honest people living in Valtia. People who deserved a chance to live without the specter of fear and starvation hanging above their heads.


    He''d known that already, but the reminder didn''t hurt.


    "What about Katarina?'' Simon asked. "Is she still at the clinic?"


    "Yes, your lady friend is waiting for Jonathan to examine her father. We should know more of his condition within the hour."


    Lucia paused. "You...have upheld your end of the bargain. I must endeavor to do the same. When you are ready, we may¨C"


    "Let''s put a pin in that and reconvene later today. And before you freak out, I''m still not planning to alter our agreement. I just need some time to rest."


    And to think things over. The recent knowledge he''d acquired had him reconsidering his long-term plans. It was part of why he didn''t mind donating most of his valuable supplies.


    Startup capital wasn''t important anymore.


    He lifted a finger. "Will ask for one small favor, though ¨C separate from our agreement."


    Lucia arched an eyebrow, barely managing to stifle her suspicion. "Which is?"


    Simon swept his gaze across Springwater. His eyes traveled from the fountain plaza over to beyond the village limits, coming to rest on the horizon in the distance.


    "Do you have a map of Valtia?"


    --


    In the privacy of an abandoned house, Simon picked out a seat, calmly sat down, and had a minor mental breakdown.


    He''d been repressing it since his battle against the Ravenous Wanderer, but now it was time to pay the butcher''s bill. Dissociating to the extent he had back then was...unhealthy. Like numbing his psyche to the point of frostbite, bits and pieces breaking off ¨C with only some of them able to be reattached afterwards.


    Simon didn''t regret his decision. It had kept him alive. That didn''t mean it hadn''t also set him back the equivalent of months of therapy.


    Not that his therapists had ever made any real progress with him.


    Half an hour later, he sat up in his chair, wiped his face, and forced himself into a semblance of composure. The world couldn''t wait on him for longer than that. Lingering issues would just have to be compartmentalized as usual.


    "Alright." Simon tested the word, sensing how it rolled around his mouth. Satisfied that language didn''t feel alien, he got down to brass tacks. "First thing''s first: Character Sheet."


    Simon


    Class: Fledgling [Advancement Available]


    Attributes: Transmigrator, Fell-Touched


    Level: 13


    HP: 36 / 170


    MP: 140 / 140


    Strength: 20


    Dexterity: 24


    Vitality: 17


    Intelligence: 14


    Unspent Points: 10


    His attention was immediately drawn to ''Advancement Available''. According to the last few system notifications he''d received, by reaching Level 13, he had become eligible for a Class Advancement.


    It was time to find out what that entailed.


    Simon focused on the concept of ''Fledgling'' ¨C which as far as he knew, was a Class that did virtually nothing. Moments later, an extensive list of system notifications cascaded down his vision.


    His eyes widened as he read through them. There were six Advancements to choose from. Each new Class offering was unique and powerful, promising remarkable benefits that would elevate his status and open new doors of opportunity.


    He singled out his choice almost immediately.


    With a heavy sigh, Simon stopped himself from finalizing his selection right away. It really was an obvious choice, but...he should at least do his due diligence.


    If Class Advancements worked the same way as some of the RPG systems he was familiar with, then picking one might permanently lock him out of the others. His starting Class would also influence his Advancement possibilities later down the line. This was too important to be hasty over.


    Slowing his pace, he carefully read and re-read every option in order.

 Chapter 13.2

    <u>Class Advancement: Swordsman</u>


    -Walk the path of the sword.


    -Learned Skills: Moderate Blade Proficiency, Power Slash, Cutting Edge


    -Bonus Stats: Strength, Dexterity


    -Note: All Class Advancements will gain an equal amount of Bonus Stats.


    He soon discovered that by concentrating on the names of the Learned Skills, he could intuit which function each one performed.


    Blade Proficiency would instantaneously download swordsmanship expertise into his brain, making him a moderately-skilled swordsman without any training or effort required. Power Slash was an offensive strike on a cooldown, similar to Power Smash, while Cutting Edge passively increased how sharp his sword strikes were.


    This one seemed like a straightforward Class ¨C not that straightforward was a bad thing. Simon''s ineptitude with the blade had nearly gotten him killed by Lucette. If he didn''t have his heart set on a different Advancement, Swordsman would be a solid, dependable choice to invest in.


    <u>Class Advancement: Brawler</u>


    -You''re carrying two lethal weapons with you at all times.


    -Learned Skills: Unarmed Proficiency, Improved Power Smash, Improved Grappling


    -Bonus Stats: Strength, Dexterity


    Another straightforward Class. Since Simon already knew Power Smash and Grappling, selecting Brawler would further improve those Skills. Additionally, Unarmed Proficiency would make him substantially better at fighting with his fists.


    He wasn''t interested. Fights generally weren''t won by sticking vulnerable limbs closer to your enemies. Except with Fell Harvest, but that was a special case ¨C and its need for close proximity had still caused issues on multiple occasions.


    <u>Class Advancement: Survivor</u>


    -As long as you''re still breathing, you''re still moving.


    -Learned Skills: Sustenance Reduction, Damage Reduction, Increased Stamina


    -Bonus Stats: Vitality


    Now this was neat. A purely defensive Class.


    Damage Reduction would reduce how much HP he lost to mid-battle injuries by 10%. That could potentially save him in life-or-death situations. Increased Stamina would boost his overall fortitude, preventing him from running out of breath as quickly, although that hadn''t been a huge problem in fights yet.


    However, Sustenance Reduction was what truly caught his eye. From what he could tell, it severely lessened the intake of food and water that his body needed to survive. It was tempting...


    In the sense that he was still partially traumatized by his first week in Valtia. More practically, Simon intended to keep a healthy stockpile of rations within Inventory for the rest of his life. The Skill was sadly superfluous.


    It also strongly pointed towards one burgeoning theory: that his Class Advancements were tailored to his personal life experiences. Until now, he had wielded a sword, fought with his hands, and endured low rations and low HP ¨C so the system was proposing Swordsman, Brawler, and Survivor.


    And as he hadn''t used a bow, something like ''Archer'' wasn''t a possible Class, despite being pretty standard fantasy fare. Maybe he could''ve added it to the list after-the-fact by heading outside and practicing with Katarina''s crossbow, but Simon didn''t want to be an Archer regardless. He would earn respect much faster by battling on the front lines.


    The next Class option essentially confirmed his theory.


    <u>Class Advancement: Con Artist</u>


    -It''s their fault for getting tricked.


    -Learned Skills: Deception, Improved Intimidation, Sense Lie


    -Bonus Stats: Dexterity, Intelligence


    Hey.


    Rude.


    So what if Simon had lied ¨C consistently ¨C to literally every person he''d met in Valtia? The ''Sworn to Secrecy'' Trait basically made that a requirement! He couldn''t tell anyone here about the existence of other worlds or the transmigration process. It was unfair for the gods to restrict his ability to speak the truth, then label him a Con Artist for it.


    The whole pretend Demon thing was totally on him, though.


    If Simon was still a denizen of Earth, then this was the Class he would have picked. Deception and Sense Lie would''ve been invaluable for moving up in the world. Politicians were more or less Con Artists in expensive suits, anyway.


    Alas, he was in Valtia now. Social-related Skills could still be useful here...but his capacity for violence was going to be of much greater importance.


    <u>Class Advancement: Thief</u>


    -Take everything that isn''t nailed down.


    -Learned Skills: Dagger Proficiency, Stealth, Fleet of Foot


    -Bonus Stats: Dexterity


    Did it really count as stealing if he was robbing dead slavers? The system''s standards were too lax sometimes.


    Simon automatically passed on Thief. He wasn''t planning to be someone who skulked around in the dark. That was antithetical to his final goal for this world.


    And last, but certainly not least...there was the Class that had made the others irrelevant.


    <u>Class Advancement: Nascent Demon</u>


    -Continue tapping into the Demonic power growing within.


    -Learned Skills: Contract, Sin Scry, Grant Boon


    -Bonus Stats: Balanced


    -Note: Taking this Class Advancement will NOT worsen your susceptibility to sacred mana.


    Perhaps he was being a little hypocritical. He had spurned Con Artist for lacking combat Skills, but Nascent Demon was much the same. Unlike a Class like Swordsman, none of Contract, Sin Scry, or Grant Boon would make him a better fighter.


    Yet he knew in his heart that this was what he needed. It offered him too many things that he sorely craved.


    Contract was a necessity if he wanted to keep up his ongoing ruse. Eventually, someone would question why the self-professed Demon wasn''t actually acting like one. Katarina was already halfway there. And in spite of the headaches that revealing his arm had caused, it''d still forced people to listen to him. Being a Demon was a quick shortcut to respect.


    Respect couched in fear, but respect nonetheless.


    Besides ¨C Contract was a strong Skill in its own right. Simon could think of a wide variety of situations where he might wish to bind someone to his will. If nothing else, it would ensure that people honored any deals he made with them.


    Next was Sin Scry. When used on a human, it would reveal their most heinous, despicable crimes to him. In detail. Known or unknown, punished or unpunished ¨C he would discover what they were like at their absolute worst.


    It...well. When combined with Identify, Sin Scry was extremely useful. By Scrying first, then directing Identify to focus on other information, he could ferret out loads of deep, dark secrets from people.


    But in truth, that wasn''t why he wanted it. The pragmatic applications were a secondary concern to his emotional desires.


    Because Sin Scry could guarantee that there wouldn''t be a repeat of his incident with the slavers.


    He would never be taken unawares by monsters in human guise again.


    Lastly, there was Grant Boon. It could broadly be described as an ability that bestowed power onto people of Simon''s choosing. There were a multitude of caveats and restrictions associated with it, but none that adversely affected the Boon-Granter.


    Simon nodded to himself as he considered the possibilities. Out of Nascent Demon''s Skills, this was potentially the most useful of the three.


    Depending on how the rest of the day went.


    And these abilities are just from my first Class Advancement, he thought. What other Skills will I gain if I pursue more Demon-based Classes? I doubt that they''re Skills I can learn on my own ¨C not when I''ve attempted to form Contracts and failed miserably. If I don''t pick Nascent Demon, then my current demonic Skills might be what I''m stuck with moving forward.


    That was the final clincher. If Simon wanted to be a Swordsman, he could train. If he wanted to be a Survivor, he could invest more into Vitality. If he wanted to be a Con Artist, he could brush up on his bamboozling and get creative with Identify.


    Yet the Skills of a Demon were unlike anything else in Valtia. It was the X-factor that would make him stand out ¨C make him that much more extraordinary.


    His ambitions were too grand to settle for less.


    With confidence, he selected Nascent Demon. A grin stretched across his face as a sudden burst of energy flowed into his body.


    Your Class has upgraded from Fledgling to Nascent Demon!


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Attribute ''Fell-Touched'' has morphed to ''Fell-Shrouded!''


    Skill Gained: Contract!


    Skill Gained: Sin Scry!


    Skill Gained: Grant Boon!


    Strength: 20 ¡ú 22


    Dexterity: 24 ¡ú 26


    Vitality: 17 ¡ú19


    Intelligence: 14 ¡ú16


    Fantastic.


    He glanced at his increased stats. That reminds me¨C


    Simon summoned his 10 Unspent Points, putting 4 into Vitality and 6 into Intelligence. It brought them up to parity with Strength and Dexterity.


    A common strategy in RPG systems was to prioritize one or two stats at the detriment of others. Even so, he didn''t think becoming a one-trick pony was the right call. Each of his stats had been vital to his survival thus far. Perhaps higher Dexterity would''ve especially helped against the Ravenous Wanderer, but he shouldn''t assume it would be as important in his next battle.


    Balanced stats would make it easier to adjust and improvise. That suited him just fine.


    Strength: 22


    Dexterity: 26


    Vitality: 23


    Intelligence: 22


    Unspent Points: 0


    Simon took in a deep breath, then exhaled. He let his mind indulge in a refreshing hit of dopamine as surging power coursed through him.


    As I am now...a rematch versus Lucette wouldn''t even be close. I think I could take Springwater''s militia leader, too. No poison or subterfuge necessary.


    There was still a long, long way to go before he entered the big leagues. But for the first time since being thrown into Valtia, Simon felt like a real, legitimate threat.


    He was ready to take on the world.


    Hello?


    The real, legitimate threat nearly toppled out of his chair as a voice boomed within his head. He sputtered, glad that no one else was around to see the big scary Demon in complete shock.


    Are you there? I hope this is working.


    Simon paused, belated recognition creeping up on him. "Voice-In-The-Sky? Is that you?"


    Yes! The Voice was as loud as it was exuberant. Well met, Simon of Earth. It heartens me to hear from you again.


    "Same to you." He settled back into his chair. "This is a pleasant surprise. How''s my favorite god doing? I was under the impression that you weren''t allowed to contact me after my transmigration was finished."


    The Voice hesitated. Let''s set that aside, shall we? There are exceptions for every law.


    Translation: You''re bending the rules, and you''ll probably be in trouble if the other gods find out.


    Truly a deity after Simon''s own heart.


    "So what''s the occasion?" He peered up at the ceiling of his ramshackle building, as if he could see the Voice''s non-euclidean body floating in the sky. "Checking to see if I''ve made any progress?"


    To a degree. Mostly, I simply wished to know if you yet lived. You''ve been in my thoughts ever since that fateful day, when the gods of Evil sabotaged your transmigration and consigned you to a journey of strife and peril.


    Simon''s mouth slightly dropped open. "You were...concerned about me?"


    Very much so.


    Warmth spread inside his chest. "Thanks. That actually means a lot."


    You are the one who traded your life for the sake of two worlds. Compared to that, I deserve little acknowledgment.


    "Still. Thank you." He smiled. "And you don''t need to worry so much. It hasn''t been easy here, but I think I''m doing quite well for myself."


    The Voice overflowed with relief. You exceed my expectations yet again.


    A comfortable moment passed.


    "By the way," Simon continued, "I''ve got some questions for you. We didn''t get to discuss everything before¨C"


    NO!


    He winced as the scream almost blew out his eardrums. "A bit quieter, Voice."


    My apologies, but ¨C Simon, you can''t ask me to divulge information related to Valtia. Strike the notion from your mind entirely.


    "Even details that I would''ve been told during a normal transmigration?"


    Yes. Even those. Voice-In-The-Sky sighed. This is one of the strictest rules we enforce. To defy it would invite disaster.


    Simon raised an eyebrow. "Why? Can you inform me of that much, at least?"


    Because if we directly interfere in our champions'' worlds, then so can they.


    Ah. It''s part of their non-aggression treaty with Evil. The two godlike factions had chosen to battle by waging proxy wars on various worlds. Once a champion was transmigrated, neither side could get involved with mortal affairs.


    Which kinda sounded like the gods of Evil could screw up a world as much as they pleased...and all Good could do in response was eventually send over one dude, then hope for the best.


    Simon tapped his finger on his thigh. "Doesn''t seem like a fair deal to you and yours."


    Voice-In-The-Sky remained silent for five long seconds.


    If anything, it is grossly in our favor.


    Simon''s blood ran cold. He understood the underlying meaning of that statement. If the gods of Good were happy to accept an arrangement that limited both sides, even if it made things difficult for them...


    It meant that Evil was winning. By a significant margin.


    I see. The transmigrator closed his eyes, forcing his tightening shoulders to relax. Just means I need to step up my game.


    Hmm.


    At the Voice''s short utterance, Simon opened his eyes again. "What is it?"


    You cannot ask me to divulge information. However...there is nothing preventing you from regaling me of your future intentions.


    The Voice''s tone became strangely chipper. While my time is limited, I would still like to hear your thoughts. What are you planning, Simon? What designs do you have for the world of Valtia?


    There''s a point to this, he noted. Voice-In-The-Sky wouldn''t be acting this way without reason.


    Speaking quickly, as the Voice''s time was apparently running out, Simon told it what he had planned for the future. He described the key pieces of information that he''d learned about Valtia ¨C and the conclusion extrapolated from that knowledge.


    Including the decision he''d come to just recently.


    A few hours really could change everything.


    Fascinating. Intriguing! The Voice''s tone had gone from chipper to egregiously upbeat. I cannot confirm or deny any of those suppositions, yet thank you for sharing, regardless.


    Simon blinked. It can''t tell me if I''m right or wrong. Not outright. He suppressed a grin. But its tone of voice...


    That''s an answer in and of itself.


    This was probably skirting the edge of disaster, coming close to breaking the gods'' covenant, yet Simon was too giddy to care. The Voice had confirmed that he was on the right track. Which was a massive relief, as he hadn''t been 100% confident in his conclusions.


    Now? He could walk forward free of doubt.


    Enough of the future, the Voice said, abruptly shifting the topic before they made a fatal error. What has transpired during the days you''ve spent in Valtia? By your joyful demeanor, I assume that matters are proceeding better than anticipated.


    "Hah, yeah, I''ve been busy. To summarize: I killed some slavers, saved a family, got a Demon arm, and rescued a town from certain destruction."


    All that in such a brief period! How marvelo¨C wait, Demon arm?


    It started going quiet at the end, like the volume on a radio being gradually turned down. Voice-In-The-Sky''s loophole was reaching its limit.


    "Seems like our time is up." He cheerfully waved at the ceiling. "Don''t be a stranger. I''m available to chat whenever you can manage it again."


    Simon, what was that about¨C


    The Voice faded.


    Simon stood up, stretching his aching joints. Well, that was a fun and productive diversion, but I''ve rested for long enough.


    The day was hardly over ¨C he had items left on his itinerary that needed crossing off. Meeting with Katarina was near the top of the list. Before that, though, he had new plans to refine...


    And his first-ever Contract to form.

 Chapter 14.1

    Lucia Evergreen stared at the sheet of paper held in her hands. She placed it on the table, then frowned, rubbing her fingertips together.


    "I know you asked me not to make you repeat yourself," she began. "However...is this truly what you desire?"


    Simon nodded. "Those are the terms we laid out earlier. As promised, nothing''s changed." He tilted his head. "Unless you want it to?"


    "No. I only wish to ensure that you won''t be dissatisfied with our Contract."


    He understood her bewilderment. From Lucia''s perspective, Simon''s proposal didn''t make much sense.


    Clause 1: This Contract will go into effect after the Contractor known as Simon Cobblestone has slain the Fell Beast within Springwater Village and returned the village''s Water Artifact.


    Clause 2: In exchange, the Contractee, Lucia Evergreen, as mayor of Springwater Village, shall transfer her authority over to Simon Cobblestone. He will henceforth be named acting mayor.


    Clause 3: As an addendum, Simon Cobblestone cannot give orders that pertain to the governance of Springwater Village. All mayoral duties will still be handled by Lucia Evergreen, who is now designated as sub-mayor.


    Clause 4: Simon Cobblestone retains the authority to dismiss Lucia Evergreen and designate a new sub-mayor if he deems that she has not adequately performed her duties. Clause 3 shall also apply to any subsequent sub-mayors designated by Simon Cobblestone.


    The one real benefit his Contract gave him was the power to fire Lucia for poor job performance. Aside from that, it made him the leader of Springwater...in name only. A figurehead, essentially.


    Lucia ¨C or any sub-mayor that followed her ¨C would continue to be the one running the show. In fact, Simon was specifically restricted from governing day-to-day proceedings.


    It was a baffling bargain in many respects. Sure, it granted him some influence over Springwater, but why the half-measures? Why not cut out the middleman and just compel Lucia to follow his every order?


    Put simply: because he didn''t want to. Simon had approximately zero interest in micromanaging a backwoods village in the middle of nowhere. He was planning on setting out tomorrow for brighter pastures, and saw no point in setting himself up as a long-distance dictator.


    The people of Springwater had been through enough already. They didn''t need that kind of persistent anxiety stacked on top of everything else.


    Besides ¨C Lucia had also shown herself to be level-headed and seemingly competent. Simon investigated her with Sin Scry, and the Skill revealed that she''d committed startlingly few crimes for a person of her position. Just minor scuffles in her youth and not-so-veiled threats made to domineering city representatives.


    As far as politicians went, she was practically a saint. He felt comfortable leaving the governance of Springwater in her hands.


    Although...this Contract did afford him two other advantages. There was a reason he''d specified the word ''authority'' multiple times.


    Simon brought up his Character Sheet, double-checking to make sure he''d gotten everything right.


    Subjugate Territory (Rank 1)


    -A unique demonic ability gained by subsuming mana from Kirkelas the Conqueror. If the established leader or governing body of a village, town, city, or any similar settlement yields authority to you, then you are granted dominion of the aforementioned area.


    -Native residents of this area will feel partially compelled to follow your orders. This authority cannot be revoked except by your death, or after 100 years have passed without a renewal of authority.


    -Subjugate Territory''s Rank may increase after a successful subjugation. As this ability evolves, more benefits shall be gained.


    ''Partially compelled'' was a nice bonus. It would help make sure that the people here didn''t randomly betray him ¨C always a possibility. And since the denizens of Springwater didn''t know this Skill existed, they would hopefully fail to realize that they were being compelled at all.


    Mostly, though, Simon was interested in evolving Subjugate Territory. Seizing authority of Springwater Village might be enough to increase its Rank.


    He wanted to learn what other benefits the Skill had to offer.


    "I''m fine with this Contract." Simon held up his Shapeshifted right arm, gathering mana into its palm. "Do you accept as well?"


    Mayor Evergreen regarded him carefully. Apparently, she''d guessed that he wasn''t quite telling her everything. Even so, she was in no position to refuse ¨C not when the Beast had been slain and the Artifact returned. A weaker woman may have stared at him with terror, eyes widening like a rat caught in a trap.


    For her part, she merely nodded. "Considering I was prepared to forfeit my soul...yes. I have no objections." Lucia smirked, reaching forward to shake his demonic hand. "A deal struck is a deal honored."


    Smirking in turn, Simon concentrated his mana around the space above them.


    The room darkened. Shadows stretched forward, deepening, almost seeming to come alive. Frenzied muttering swirled at the edges of their hearing.


    One-by-one, as if scrawled by an unsteady hand, blackened words began to appear in mid-air.


    Simon''s head buzzed as the Contract formed. A cloying sense of satisfaction warmed his bones, like the delight of victory combined with the surety of rightful authority.


    In that moment, he knew that this was what his demonic mana was meant for. Birds fly, fish swim, and Demons bind people with Contracts. It was at the very heart of their nature.


    He examined Clauses #1 through #4 as they were written in the air. Whereas before he had been mildly unsure of their wording, now he knew exactly what they needed to say. The mere act of beginning a Contract had given him an instinctive comprehension of what verbiage he should utilize.


    His mana was already advising him to renegotiate, suggesting adjustments he could make to twist the Contract in his favor. Or even if he changed nothing of what was currently written, it spoke of other ways ¨C ways he could abuse loopholes in his own terms.


    Ways to turn all of Springwater into a den of glassy-eyed subservience.


    Simon exhaled, suppressing the intrusive thoughts. Can''t say I''m surprised that Demons are predisposed to be conniving bastards, he mused. Something to keep in mind the next time I meet one.


    With a flourish, the last word of Clause #4 was written. Two additional lines materialized below.


    <u>Contractor: Simon Cobblestone


    Contractee: Lucia Evergreen</u>


    An unearthly voice echoed within both their minds. It sounded unlike anything they had ever heard.


    THIS CONTRACT IS FORGED.


    The blackened scrawl vanished.


    Simon released Lucia''s hand, schooling his features to hide how out-of-breath he felt. Forming the Contract hadn''t expended MP, but an indefinable resource inside him still seemed...lessened. He would only be able to create one or two more Contracts today before needing to recuperate.


    Mayor Evergreen looked down at her hand, turning it around, scrutinizing it from all angles. "I don''t feel different," she mumbled to herself.


    "Why would you?"


    "That''s what the tales speak of. Signing a Contract perverts the essence of your being. People who bargain with Demons are scarcely even people anymore. Some become violent monsters. Others are reduced to simpering thralls. The worst appear as they were before, yet act as an unthinking puppet, their mind hollowed out and replaced with the Demon''s will."


    Simon rubbed his chin. "Well, those Contracts were likely designed to twist the Contractee into something awful. Mine aren''t. My methods are...atypical. I certainly don''t recommend trusting other Demons as much as you''ve trusted me."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Lucia raised an eyebrow. "So you''re saying that among your entire species, you ¨C and only you ¨C are deserving of trust?"


    "Probably."


    She let out an amused laugh. "Then I suppose I''ve been fooled, because for some reason, I''m inclined to believe you."


    At those words, a system notification burst forth like a ringing gong.


    Territory Subjugated: Springwater Village!


    Subjugate Territory''s Rank has Increased! 1 ¡ú 2


    While residing within a subjugated territory, your stats will dramatically increase!


    He bit back a gasp. That surge of power he''d felt yesterday after increasing his stats was a trickle compared to the tidal wave now swelling inside. Fingers trembling, he opened his Character Sheet again.


    HP: 230 / 460 (115 / 230)


    MP: 440 / 440 (220 / 220)


    Strength: 22 (44)


    Dexterity: 26 (52)


    Vitality: 23 (46)


    Intelligence: 22 (44)


    Doubled. All of his stats had doubled.


    How strong does that make me? If the Ravenous Wanderer popped out of the ground at its peak Estimated Level, could I take it in a direct fight?


    He flinched as a thought came to him. Kirkelas had an Estimated Level of 89. My demonic Skills are derived from his. How in blue blazes did they ever manage to defeat and contain him? If he receives the same benefits as me, then he would''ve been nigh-unstoppable in one of his subjugated territories.


    Am *I* nigh-unstoppable? At least in this tiny corner of the world. Even if Springwater contacted other settlements for help, how many elite Level 30ish warriors are roaming around the Severed Isles? Did I just become a big fish in a small pond?


    But...this strength was temporary. No better than a mirage. The second he left Springwater Village ¨C his subjugated territory ¨C it would disappear.


    "Simon?" Lucia peered at him, a note of concern entering her tone. "Is aught amiss? In the short time I''ve known you, I''ve never seen you embrace silence when it could instead be filled with chatter. When you are silent, it usually comes as a prelude to some distressing declaration."


    Immediately, he donned his best poker face, grinning. "Are you saying I love the sound of my own voice?"


    "In so many words."


    His expression became a bit more natural. "I can''t even spend too long arguing that point, as it would merely prove you right."


    I''ll mull over the ramifications of my doubled stats later. For now, there were a couple things he needed to test out.


    "Hypothetical question ¨C as in, this is not an order," Simon began. "If I asked you to raise Springwater''s taxes to 100%, outlaw public displays of affection, and arrest everyone whose favorite color was purple...what would you do?"


    "I''d ask why you''ve taken leave of your senses." Lucia crossed her arms. "And if you pressed the issue, I''d tell you precisely where you could stick such drivel."


    She hadn''t even hesitated before denying him. Subjugate Territory''s ''partial compulsion'' couldn''t force people to follow orders that they strongly opposed. That came as a relief ¨C he wasn''t interested in removing free will from the general populace.


    If it''s a less absurd order, though...


    "Lucia Evergreen." Simon adopted an arrogant, overbearing tone. "I order you to point in my general direction."


    Her hand had lifted halfway before she frowned, lowering it again. "No."


    "Then I order you to clap your hands."


    "What are¨C"


    Realization shone within her gaze. "This is an act of kindness, isn''t it? An attempt to eliminate my fears. By giving orders that I can freely ignore, you''re showing that I am not under your thrall."


    Simon shrugged, affecting an air of nonchalance. "Who''s to say?"


    He knew Lucia would interpret that as a direct confirmation. People tended to graciously fill in the blanks whenever they couldn''t understand his actions.


    And in this case, no ordinary human could have possibly guessed that he was limit testing the fine print of his abilities.


    Contract had the longest Description of any of Simon''s Skills. It possessed a large number of clearly-defined rules and stipulations. Only one had worried him:


    -During instances where the user has enacted multiple conflicting Contracts, additional penalties to the user shall be incurred.


    Simon had needed to test that Subjugate Territory''s partial compulsion wouldn''t interfere with Clause #3: ''Simon Cobblestone cannot give orders that pertain to the governance of Springwater Village.'' Especially considering that he intended to shamelessly re-use this template in the future.


    Luckily, there didn''t seem to be any issues. There was no contradiction penalty from making frivolous demands.


    As one final test, he attempted to say "I order you to raise taxes by 1%" ¨C only to find the words sticking in his throat. Clause #3 outright barred him from giving orders related to governing Springwater. It felt similar to the ''Sworn to Secrecy'' Trait, physically preventing him from speaking.


    Lucia declined to comment on how he''d choked on nothing. She''d grown accustomed to his disjointed behavior. "You''re leaving to see Lady Katarina soon, correct?"


    "Yeah. Need to check on her and her father." He hoped that Gerald''s prognosis wasn''t too bad. Katarina deserved a win.


    Mayor Evergreen hesitated. A moment later, she abandoned all restraint, deeply bowing her head. "Others have already expressed their gratitude to you. Perhaps my words now will sound like a pale imitation of theirs, but, Simon...thank you. Without your efforts, thousands and thousands of my people would be dead. You have delivered salvation when all was lost, and asked for little in return, dealing with us fairly from the very start."


    Her mouth crept upward into a bittersweet, wistful smile. "Which is why I request that you stop holding back ¨C and reveal to me the dire news lurking behind your lips."


    Simon went perfectly still.


    "...How did you know?" he eventually managed to get out.


    "Years of experience. You are more expressive than you think, Simon. It is part of why I can trust you. No true monster would struggle to deliver ill tidings, concealing flashes of pity and sympathy in their gaze."


    Her smile faded as she pointed at him. "Tell me. What fate awaits Springwater Village? What would give pause to a powerful Demon such as yourself?"


    Valtia''s impending destruction. His personal plans for the future. Many, many things.


    But right here, right now?


    "The Water Artifact." Simon visibly sagged, his poker face crumbling to dust. "The Fell Beast drained most of its mana. Not much is left."


    Lucia nodded, betraying no emotion except for a tightening of her posture. "Before the Beast arrived, we believed that the Artifact had a decade remaining until it expired. How long¨C"


    "Six months."


    Silence gripped the room.


    "Are you certain?" Lucia asked, in a quiet voice.


    "Yes." It was a line tucked at the end of the Artifact''s Identify Description. Six months ¨C and that was prior to Simon unleashing a torrent of water at the Ravenous Wanderer. "Six months maximum."


    Mayor Evergreen was stone-faced.


    After several protracted seconds, she clapped her hands together. "So be it. We must make what preparations we can. This is still more of a reprieve than we would''ve had otherwise."


    She eyed him with thinly-disguised hope. "Unless...there is some manner of demonic miracle you can perform?"


    Unable to meet her expectant gaze, Simon turned away, walking quickly towards the door leading outside.


    "Working on it."

 Chapter 14.2

    The look on Katarina''s face told Simon everything he needed to know.


    In his limited time spent with her, he''d come to regard the woman as a fighter. Whether she was imprisoned by slavers or ambushing a Fell Beast, she refused to surrender. No matter what circumstances plagued her, there was always a stubborn fire lit in her gaze.


    Now that fire had almost sputtered out entirely. In its place was an empty sort of resignation.


    Simon approached carefully and slowly. Katarina was leaning against the building he''d chosen as his temporary residence, idly playing with a dagger, staring out into the distance. He didn''t step quietly, yet she gave no indication that she''d heard him.


    He waited for her to initiate conversation. When that moment never arrived, he awkwardly cleared his throat, steeling his resolve. "Hello, Katarina."


    "Hey." She didn''t turn to greet him. The dagger twirled within nimble fingertips.


    A days-old memory came to Simon. "You...may call me Katarina. Or Kat, if you prefer." It was one of the first things she''d said to him.


    Did she appreciate when people used her shortened name? Did it sound friendlier? Would that help set her at ease?


    Was there any possible way to soften what they were about to discuss?


    Grimacing inwardly, Simon opted to keep using her full name. He didn''t think he could make the shorter variant seem genuine. That was something friends shared, and...they weren''t quite there yet.


    "I''m sorry," he started with. "If there''s anything at all I can do for you, please let me know."


    Her mouth twitched imperceptibly. "Haven''t even told you what the physician said."


    Simon couldn''t think of a response that wouldn''t sound insensitive, so he wisely elected to say nothing.


    Katarina flipped her dagger up and snatched it out of the air. "As it turns out, my father is one-in-a million." Her voice was like a piranha-filled lake; serene on the surface, but with blood and sharp edges lurking just underneath. "Can you believe it? We were finally ''lucky'' about something. Not with our birth, or our innate skill with mana, or anything else throughout our lives..."


    She trailed off, losing steam. "The Ancient One''s Gift. That''s the illness my father has. His body is rejecting his own mana. It''s eating itself alive."


    Like a magic-based autoimmune disease? "I wasn''t aware that could happen," Simon blurted out.


    "Neither were we. As I said ¨C one-in-a-million."


    She stowed her dagger away. "The Ancient''s Gift is inborn. He''s actually had it all his life. Merely gets worse with age. Means it isn''t contagious...but it can''t be cured. Only staved off."


    Simon didn''t bother asking how. If it was that simple, Katarina wouldn''t be looking so despondent.


    "There''s a remedy," she continued. "Would keep him alive for another few decades. He''d last long enough to start complaining about his aching bones. I''d...I''d still have him."


    A burst of resentment exploded across her face, twisting it into something hateful and desperate. If she''d still been holding her dagger, Simon would''ve been inclined to back away, lest she stab the nearest warm body in a fit of rage.


    Then the moment passed. Her expression reverted to its mask of forced acceptance. "The remedy also costs far more money than we''ll ever see. Even if we did somehow strike it rich, the nobility and merchant guilds hoard the remedy, buying it up the instant it''s made. They''ve ensured that if they''re ever struck with the affliction, they''ll have a ready stockpile to last them indefinitely."


    And the rest of us get to rot, were the words that went unspoken.


    "Considered stealing it," Katarina remarked, her fingers brushing against the dagger at her waist. "But I don''t have the skill or expertise to pilfer a nobleman''s well-guarded coffers. Would need to train for years and years. On the slim chance I succeeded, by then, father would be..."


    She shook her head. "Should stay here. Jonathan has offered to take care of him, ease what symptoms he''s able to. At least my father will be lucid. Can hear his voice. Make fond memories. Something to keep with me."


    "How much time does he have?" Simon asked.


    "He''ll live to see my next birthday...yet not the one after."


    A chuckle escaped her throat. "Was difficult for us to leave Caelryn City, you know. Those slavers weren''t the first peril we encountered on our road to Springwater. Bet all our hopes on this trash heap of a village. Figured we''d be in good company ¨C a pair of penniless vagrants should fit right in. Anything would''ve been better than hiding from the roaming gangs in Caelryn, constantly fleeing from knives in the dark, never knowing what new hell you''d awaken to in the morning."


    Katarina breathed out a sigh. "Making the journey seemed so important at the time. Now I''m simply left thinking..."


    She chanced a sideways glance at him, as if seeking answers. "What was it all for?"


    With a flash of disquieting inspiration, Simon realized how easy it would be to manipulate her right then.


    It wasn''t like with the Contract, where his demonic mana was feeding him advice. This was glaringly obvious just by looking at her. Katarina had lost her way. She was adrift in a storm, without a lifeboat, ready to latch onto whoever extended a helping hand.


    With one single sentence ¨C "Assist me, and I''ll get Gerold''s remedy for you" ¨C she would follow him to the ends of the world. It wouldn''t even be a lie.


    But...


    "I think I owed you an explanation for my confusing behavior?"


    Katarina blinked at his non-sequitur. "Oh. Right." She turned to face him, seeming to embrace the distraction he''d given her. "You don''t act like any Demon I''ve ever met."


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "You haven''t met other Demons."


    "Yes, but that''s beside the point."


    Simon grinned, and she returned it in kind ¨C although hers was much more flimsy. "Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that my behavior must remain confusing for a bit longer. Before I regale you with the full explanation, I need to ask some questions of my own first."


    She arched an eyebrow. "Why?"


    "For context." He swept his arm out towards the village. "To start with ¨C what exactly are the Mana Harvesters? Why was it so imperative that the Fell Beast not reach them?"


    Katarina stared. "How don''t you know of...never mind. I''ll just presume there''s a reason you''re asking."


    Rotating to the side, she gestured at a building several streets away. It was slightly taller than average, with what appeared to be a nobleman''s coat-of-arms emblazoned at the top.


    "The Mana Harvesters are Artifacts located in each city, town, and village in the Severed Isles," she explained. "They siphon mana from the land and store it in containers. Every so often, some of Duke Helmund''s soldiers come to collect."


    That was basically what Simon had expected from a name like Mana Harvesters, but it was good to have it confirmed nonetheless. "Is that why we couldn''t let the Fell Beast near it?"


    "Correct. With how powerful the Beast became just from draining the Water Artifact...I shudder to imagine what abomination it would''ve transformed into after devouring the Harvester''s bounty. Duke Helmund himself may have needed to come and slay it personally."


    Very, very glad it didn''t come to that. "And what does Helmund use all that mana for?"


    "Various things, I suppose. Bribes to the nobility. Fashioning more Artifacts. Perhaps a garnish for his dinners?"


    Simon took note of her demeanor. "You don''t seem especially concerned that Duke Helmund is robbing the land of its mana."


    She half-shrugged. "Not like it hurts anyone. The land recovers."


    "It''s a wasteland out there, Katarina."


    "It''s always been a wasteland. Helmund didn''t change that."


    Which was a reasonable belief to hold...for someone born into a medieval world, who was relatively young, and who possessed limited access to information. She could hardly hop online and google ''environmental changes over the years''. Lucette''s slaver group had only concluded that Valtia was dying after years of traveling around and comparing different areas.


    Simon gazed at the unassuming Helmund-branded building, wondering how much damage that specific Harvester had wrought. A harbinger of the apocalypse ¨C hidden in plain sight.


    His right arm tensed. "Out of curiosity, what would happen if I went and demolished¨C"


    "Don''t," Katarina interrupted, her panic rising. "Duke Helmund exacts brutal punishment on settlements who damage their Harvester. He cares more for his mana tithe than the actual taxes."


    "Of course he does." Simon put on a reassuring smile. "Relax. I won''t lay a finger on the Duke''s precious Harvesters."


    Not until he could do so with impunity, at any rate.


    Katarina narrowed her eyes. "You swear? Because it would be a waste to condemn Springwater mere hours after we risked our lives to save it."


    "I swear. I''m not as impetuous as you may think."


    By the look on her face, she didn''t believe him. Simon folded his arms, matching her suspicion with his own. "Speaking of impetuous ¨C that leads to the last question I have to ask you."


    He shifted his tone of voice from playful to serious. "Why did you come back to fight the Fell Beast?"


    Katarina froze. She scratched her head, wearing an expression like she''d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.


    "Strange thing to ask," she muttered. "It was a rampaging Fell Beast. Needed to die and¨C"


    "You had no idea if you could help me. In fact, considering how the Beast easily regenerated from your arrows, and how I was on the ropes at the time...there was plenty of evidence to suggest that your heroics would amount to absolutely nothing. Yet instead of fleeing as the nigh-invincible monster feasted on my corpse, you returned, climbed onto its back, and started stabbing away like a maniac."


    Simon held up a hand to forestall her response. "To be clear ¨C you saved my life. That distraction, in addition to throwing the Warding Orbs later, is what allowed me to prevail against the Beast. Without your timely assistance, myself and all of Springwater would be dead. I am sincerely, honestly grateful that you came back."


    He locked eyes with her. "I just need to know why."


    It was possible that Katarina''s answer would be self-serving. Escaping from the Fell Beast''s cavern wouldn''t have ended the problem, after all. Simon could envision himself making the same choice after a rational analysis of the situation. ''If my life is endangered either way, might as well try killing the Beast before it grows even stronger'' ¨C something like that.


    People didn''t tend to conduct a rational analysis in the heat of the moment, though. They simply went with their gut, then did their best to justify it afterwards.


    How would she¨C


    "I just wanted to, alright?"


    Katarina almost sounded embarrassed. "In retrospect, it was foolish. Should''ve ran to the clinic, grabbed my father, then made for the carriage. The people of Springwater probably would''ve stopped me, but I still had better odds at surviving that way than attacking a Fell Beast twice my size. It''s just...leaving you behind...after everything you''d done for us..."


    She sighed. "I wouldn''t have liked what kind of person that made me."


    A genuine smile broadened over Simon''s face.


    That was the answer he''d hoped to hear.


    "Follow me." He stepped forward, opening the door to his temporary residence. "I have something to show you."

 Chapter 15.1

    A map of Valtia was hanging on the wall inside. It was an impressive piece of craftsmanship, illustrating the four corners of the known world.


    The bulk of livable land in Valtia was comprised of a single large continent, territorially divided into northern, southern, and eastern sections. Each of those three cardinal directions was home to an independent nation; separate factions grouped together on the same landmass.


    And in the west, there were the Severed Isles. Its territory was a series of tightly-knit, ocean-locked islands. The Isles were close enough to the main continent to be reachable by boat, yet far enough to be relatively isolated from the other three nations.


    The map also depicted some major settlements throughout Valtia. One location in each country had been emblazoned with a star ¨C their capital cities, according to Identify. Little else was portrayed about the nations across the sea, which was to be expected for a map devised by a society with minimal information sharing.


    But for the section containing the Severed Isles, where the map''s cartographer presumably lived, much more detail had been incorporated. Cities, towns, roads, areas of interest...it was a surprisingly extensive effort. Even minor villages like Springwater were included.


    Simon had filled every inch of the map''s available space. Notes and theories about the various settlements were jotted down everywhere. Lines of thread connected cities seemingly at random. Question marks had been employed freely and without reservation, as if scribbled by an asylum inmate going through a manic episode.


    Admittedly, he hadn''t realized how crazy it all appeared until he saw it reframed by the look on Katarina''s face. "You did this?" she asked. Her tone indicated that she was hoping otherwise, yet already knew the answer.


    "I was...contemplating things."


    "That much is apparent, yes."


    She frowned, reading over the physical representation of Simon''s thought processes. "How do you know that Fairweather Village is having trouble growing food this year? It''s at the opposite end of the Severed Isles."


    Identify told him when he''d used it on the village''s map marker. "Learned it from Demon magic."


    Katarina hummed noncommittally, peering closer at his writings. Despite her previous skepticism, she seemed interested in whatever secrets his ''Demon magic'' had revealed to him.


    She''s distracted, he thought. Now''s as good a time as any.


    From outside Katarina''s field of vision, Simon cast Sin Scry on her.


    The Skill was soundless and gave no visual indication that it was being used. He need only direct it at a person, and it would reveal their worst sins to him.


    Identify had already confirmed that she''d never killed anyone ¨C until Relia, anyway ¨C but the information it provided was constrained to a short text box, and limited by his own biases. Sin Scry could fill in the gaps that Simon was missing.


    He wanted to know more before he got his hopes up too much.


    The transmigrator sank into a torpor as scenes from another life played out before his eyes.


    ''Katarina. Famished and emaciated. Stealing food from someone who wouldn''t miss it.''


    ''Katarina. Her young fists crashing into a just-as-young face. Reputation established in the pecking order of Caelryn City''s underbelly, a machine that eats children alive and spits out the gristle.''


    ''Katarina. Still hungry. Stealing food from someone who *would* miss it ¨C her own loving father. Regrets it horribly the very next day.''


    ''Katarina. Given the offer to join one of Caelryn''s biggest, wealthiest gangs. She just needs to take a life to prove her dedication. Refuses them and openly balks at their savagery, but on the inside...is tempted.''


    ''Katarina. Not quite as hungry. Pilfers an expensive bauble from a passing merchant because, for once, she wanted something for herself that looked pretty.''


    ''Katarina. Older now. Ambushed in an alley at night, gentle moonlight illuminating a man''s murderous smile. Knifing him in the stomach, steel ripping flesh, blood splattering on the pavement. Managing to dodge as a dagger sails right over her head. Escaping from his clutches as he shrieks for her to come back.''


    ''Katarina. About to leave Caelryn City with her father. Stopped at the exit by a power-tripping guard for no real reason at all. Decides that she''d be willing to kill him if he continues barring their path.


    Doesn''t end up needing to, but she would have.''


    Simon suppressed a harsh intake of air as he came back to his senses.


    From what he could tell, his trance had only lasted around five seconds...although it certainly felt like longer. He''d used Sin Scry twice ¨C first on Lucia, then on Katarina ¨C and it was equally disorienting each time. The Skill made him wholly focused on what he was watching, submersing him Katarina''s inner thoughts and feelings, almost as if he''d forgotten his own existence.


    Should avoid using it in the middle of battle, he determined. Or any situation where I need to stay on-guard. A few seconds of blanking out is a few seconds where someone could slit my throat.


    Simon forced his nerves to relax, gazing at Katarina as she perused the map of Valtia. While Sin Scry hadn''t shown every last detail of her past, he''d still learned much from its visions.


    To be honest...the results were surprising. Definitely not what he''d predicted.


    Those were her worst sins?


    Stealing food when hungry? Pre-teen scuffles? Injuring a deranged murderer in self-defense? Swiping a trinket off a merchant who probably didn''t even notice it was gone? Merely thinking about killing people to better her standing?


    Simon opened up his Character Sheet, scrolling down to Sin Scry''s Description.


    Sin Scry (Rank MAX)


    -When used on a sentient creature, this Skill will show the worst sins they have committed to you.


    -There is no cooldown limit, but...take care. Not all is meant to be known or seen.


    The Skill had made itself sound all ominous and foreboding. When he eventually used it on other people, perhaps it would still prove those warnings true. Yet when used on someone like Katarina, it had only exemplified that she was a truly decent person.


    Simon knew how difficult it was to be a decent person in an environment that rewarded cruelty. He''d failed that test himself on numerous occasions.


    Alright. Standing straighter, he walked up to stand beside Katarina. Shouldn''t procrastinate any longer. She''s overdue an explanation.


    He would''ve given it to her regardless of what Sin Scry revealed ¨C she''d earned that much from him ¨C but now he actually felt comfortable speaking his mind.


    "I made a Contract with Lucia," Simon explained. A smirk played at his lips when Katarina whirled towards him in surprise. "It''s the same terms you saw before. No changes. However...I still gained more than she realized."


    "Aha!" Her eyes shimmered with a petty sense of victory. "I knew you had another angle! What is it? A treasure hidden beneath the village we didn''t know of, and now it belongs to you?"


    "The treasure is the village itself. By seizing authority of Springwater, I''ve empowered another of my demonic abilities. All native residents are partially compelled to follow my orders ¨C even if they aren''t under Contract."


    A shadow passed over Katarina''s expression. "Partially...compel?" She took a step back from him. "What precisely does that entail?"


    "Not sure," Simon admitted. "Tested it with Lucia, and she ignored whatever commands she outright disagreed with. Should mean that people will be less likely to ignore my wishes and go after Gerold, if that helps."


    He''d known this part of the explanation wouldn''t be well-received. Any sane person would feel disturbed at him pseudo-mind-controlling an entire village.


    She still deserved to hear the truth.


    "There''s something else," he continued. "Another aspect of my demonic ability. While residing in Springwater ¨C or other areas under my authority ¨C my power and mana are both doubled."


    Katarina let out a low whistle. "Would''ve been nice to have that when we were battling the Beast." She tried to sound lighthearted, but there was an unmistakable tension in her voice. "A village under your thumb and a boost to your strength? I guess you''ve won yourself a great victory."


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    "Is that what you think?"


    He didn''t say it unkindly ¨C more like he was asking her a legitimate question. "You think rescuing Springwater Village and strengthening my power is a great victory?"


    "Well..." As if ambushed by a pop quiz, Katarina furrowed her brow. "Why wouldn''t it be? Springwater isn''t the richest or most important place in the world, but a village is a village. That''s thousands of people who cannot gainsay your will. You could live whatever kind of life you desired here."


    Her answer was one that most others would have put forth. Yet it was an answer narrow in scope, bound by the knowledge and preconceptions of the person answering.


    Simon glanced over at the map of Valtia. She doesn''t see the big picture. How could she? Was never given the chance. Would take an outside force to clue her in ¨C to shake things up.


    Like a transmigrator from another world.


    It was time to rouse Katarina from her waking dream.


    "I have no memory of Valtia from before eleven days ago," Simon began.


    She did a quick double-take at him. "Come again?"


    "My earliest memories here are of waking up outside, surrounded by a newborn Fell Beast and the corpses of strangers. I didn''t know where I was. I didn''t know who I was. I don''t even know if I''m really a Demon ¨C could be a human endowed with demonic abilities. The slavers were the first people I met, and I only managed to get in their good graces by pretending to be family. ''Cobblestone'' isn''t my last name."


    Realization hit Katarina like a freight train. "That''s why you ask bizarre questions sometimes," she breathed, in a tone of wonderment. "You weren''t feigning ignorance or attempting to lead the conversation in specific ways. You just didn''t know."


    He nodded. "I''ve gotten very good at improvising over these past eleven days, let me tell you."


    That was the most truthful origin story he could give ¨C at least while being restricted by Sworn to Secrecy. He''d only omitted his encounter with the Sealed Demon of Ruination, and that was out of strict necessity. The less people who knew of Kirkelas'' existence, the better.


    Katarina stared at Simon as if seeing him with new eyes. "How did this happen? Was it by injury? A curse, maybe? I''ve heard instances of Fell magic devouring people''s memories."


    She believed me rather quickly. Then again, my behavior thus far hasn''t exactly been normal ¨C not by human *or* Demon standards. Me being a bluffing amnesiac is as good of an explanation as any.


    "I couldn''t tell you what caused it," Simon replied, because he literally, physically couldn''t. "Nor do I care to find out. Whatever life I had before is gone; I''m far more interested in the here and now."


    "...And what do you intend to do?" An undercurrent of tension had returned to her voice. "Do you even have a goal you''re striving towards, or were you simply reacting to each moment as it came?"


    "There was a fair amount of that when I was lost and starving, but don''t misjudge me. I''ve always had a higher purpose in mind."


    There were two directions that the rest of their conversation could go in. First, he could try to convince Katarina of Valtia''s impending apocalypse. That would give his final declaration of intent much more gravitas.


    But while he wanted to be honest with her...it was a hard sell. They''d just barely established something resembling trust between each other. Jumping from ''I''ve lost my memories'' to ''the world ends in less than a year'' would be a stretch so tenuous that it might just snap entirely.


    Fortunately ¨C in a grim sort of way ¨C there was a more immediate, verifiable disaster to use as a springboard.


    "The Water Artifact will run out of mana in six months."


    Shock and horror rapidly spread across Katarina''s face. "What? No. That can''t be. Water Artifacts are created to last for hundreds of years."


    "That was before a Fell Beast drained it for hours." Simon shook his head, a somber air about him. "Six months. Confirmed it with my Demon magic."


    Katarina''s posture sagged. "That''s...I was hoping for my father to stay here. What are these people going to do when the Artifact turns barren?"


    "Die."


    As if that one word was a slap in the face, she flinched back. "Have some tact, Simon," Katarina snarled.


    "Why?" He tilted his head in a quizzical manner. "Does it matter if they''re going to die?"


    "Of course it matters, you blackhearted¨C"


    "Then why weren''t they doing anything to prevent that?"


    Simon''s voice took on a calm yet harsh edge, each word cutting like a soft knife. "Although you claim that Water Artifacts are usable for centuries, Lucia assumed that this one would only persist for a single decade longer. Almost everyone in Springwater Village right now would''ve lived to see its end. But...was there a plan in place? Would they have bothered making a plan in the next ten years? Or would they have just waited until the last minute and¨C"


    Recognizing that some pent-up bitterness was leaking through, he pulled back and refocused. "What I''m saying is that Springwater Village has always had a limited shelf life. With no funds to purchase a new Water Artifact, their days were numbered from the start. Ten years or six months ¨C what difference does it make?"


    Katarina glared at him. "Nine years and six months of difference. That''s invaluable time spent with family and loved ones! The people of Springwater deserved better than this!"


    She was getting angry. Good. Anger was what they needed. When harnessed properly, it was like fuel for the soul, pushing people to break their shackles of ennui and enact real change in their lives.


    He just had to redirect that anger to its proper source.


    "So this is a tragedy, then?" Simon leaned closer. "A village painfully dying out is horrific? Despicable? Appalling?"


    Katarina clenched her fists, seeming a hairsbreadth away from striking him. "All of that and more."


    "Is that so? And I imagine there''s plenty more places out there like this one. Settlements on their last legs, with no hope for a brighter future. Soon to be hollowed-out graveyards in a few years at best. Unless¨C"


    He reached over, slamming his palm against the world map like a thunderclap.


    "¨CSomeone takes action."


    Katarina''s gaze shifted over to the map, revisiting its notes and scribbles. Whatever retort she''d been building to died in her throat. She went silent, not quite grasping what he was getting at just yet...


    Though by how the muscles tightened around her eyes, her subconscious was quickly catching up.


    "This sorry state of affairs wasn''t caused by a mistake or bad luck," Simon continued. "It''s the result of intentional choices made by people who don''t care if their ''lessers'' perish. Nobles levy heavy taxes on the lower castes, depriving them of money and mana both ¨C and even threatening them if the commoners dare step out of line. Despite Springwater being on the brink of ruination, Lucia refused to call in outside help from the cities, because she was terrified that they would invent an excuse to cull the ''Fell-tainted'' rabble."


    He sent a sideways glance at Katarina. "Not that the cities are much better-off. Never been there myself, but correct me if I''m wrong: most people are poor, hungry, and struggling to survive. They live a bit more comfortably than rural villages, which lets them convince themselves that they''re doing okay, but in truth they''re just fighting for scraps at the table. The lion''s share of wealth and power is owned by the nobility."


    "Merchants too," she murmured. "Moneyed institutions. Guilds, traders...slavers."


    "All propped up by the ever-esteemed Lords and Ladies of Valtia. They''re like one big serpent, squeezing people dry, crushing the life out of them with each passing year. And what do we do when fighting a serpent?"


    Blue light glowed around Simon''s palm. In a flash of motion, he plunged a summoned dagger into the map, piercing it through the star marker designating the Severed Isles'' capital city.


    "We cut off its head."

 Chapter 15.2

    Katarina stared wide-eyed at the dagger, like it might come alive and attack her. "You mean to seize the capital." Quietly, she mouthed ''Cut off the head'' to herself. "You..."


    She took in a sharp intake of breath. "You mean to kill Duke Helmund."


    "He needs to go," Simon remarked, as if commenting on the weather. "There is no other path to salvation for Valtia. None that I can envision, anyway."


    Especially after receiving Voice-In-The-Sky''s approval.


    He''d reached this conclusion even before learning exactly how the Mana Harvesters operated. There was simply too much damning evidence painting Helmund as the chief perpetrator of Valtia''s decline. Testimony from Kirkelas, the slavers, Lucia, and Katarina all described the man as a vicious parasite oppressing his people and bleeding the land.


    Simon would''ve gone after him with or without an apocalypse looming over the horizon.


    However, some nagging doubts had made the transmigrator hesitant to fully commit to his plan. While he felt confident that Helmund needed to be lanced like the boil he was, some details hadn''t quite added up ¨C and still weren''t.


    It mostly came down to timing and location. Voice-In-The-Sky initially warned that Valtia would meet its end within the year. That implied a rapid, dramatic upheaval, similar to a mass extinction event. Something on the level of a meteor falling from the sky.


    Yet the slavers theorized that Valtia''s end-of-days scenario would occur decades from now. And based on what Simon had seen, he felt inclined to agree. The environment''s mana deprivation was severe, but not to the point where people would start dropping like flies in a couple months.


    Furthermore, Duke Helmund''s sphere of influence was localized primarily to the Severed Isles. He couldn''t have installed Mana Harvesters in the other three Valtian nations. How, then, was he responsible for snuffing out all life throughout the world?


    Simon still didn''t know...but for the moment, he didn''t have to. Because when he explained his plan to Voice-In-The-Sky, the god responded in the most jubilant tone of voice it was allowed.


    ''You''re on the right track,'' it had blatantly implied. ''Slay Helmund. That''s what you were brought here for.''


    Thus, Valtia''s future had been decided. The Duke of the Severed Isles was a marked man. He would die; his reign of terror overthrown, his stranglehold shattered, and his banners cast down into the abyss. A righteous purging would take place, excising his tyranny like pulling weeds from a garden, roots and all.


    The fine details could be ironed out later.


    "You may think this drastic," Simon continued, "yet I prefer the term expedient. Time isn''t on our side. The longer Helmund rules the Severed Isles, the more people suffer and die."


    Originally, he''d wanted to gradually build up his power base, sinking his teeth into the realm of medieval politics ¨C but that was the lingering mindset of an Earth expat. He was in Valtia, now. Getting rich enough to bribe corrupt politicians wasn''t the endgame anymore.


    Subjugating them would be so much easier.


    Katarina leaned onto a nearby desk, the color draining from her face. "You don''t understand," she said, voice quavering. "Helmund can''t be...he is akin to a god. The Fell Beast we fought here is a paltry existence by comparison. You wouldn''t be the first who''s tried and failed to unseat him."


    "Others are trying?"


    "Rebels in opposition to Duke Helmund. They call themselves The Hurricane." She winced. "Their successes have been few and far between. Like flies that he swats when they start buzzing too loudly. If you join them, your fate would be the same."


    "Good to know. Maybe we''ll collaborate later." Simon put on a savage grin. "Let''s make something clear, though. They''d be the ones to come crawling to me. I wouldn''t be planning to assassinate a demigod without the strength to realize my ambitions."


    He shapeshifted his right arm, holding its wicked claws up to the light. "Another demonic ability I possess lets me quickly grow stronger. Very, very quickly. I''m over twice as powerful now than before we fought the Fell Beast ¨C and this is merely the barest sliver of my potential."


    Katarina regarded him with a penetrating gaze. "You earnestly believe you can grow powerful enough to vanquish Duke Helmund?"


    Given infinite time? It was assured.


    In less than a year? It was questionable.


    But he didn''t have a choice, so the answer was¨C


    "Absolutely." Simon gestured at the map again. "The Severed Isles are full of places that need me. Places with monsters that need slaying ¨C whether they be human or Beast. I''ll travel to areas of interest, right wrongs as I see them, and keep getting stronger. Won''t be an easy journey, but at the end of the road sits Duke Helmund''s head on a pike."


    He paused. "I could stay here in Springwater, lording over several thousand peasants as an uncontested ruler...but that would be grossly inefficient. Maybe saving this village seemed like a great victory to you, but to me?"


    The transmigrator met her gaze. "To me, it was just one step forward."


    Katarina said nothing, coming to grips with what she''d just heard. She peered into his eyes, searching for even a hint of duplicity, doubt, or hesitation ¨C and found only unyielding resolve burning within.


    "You aren''t doing this to take control of the Severed Isles." A wan, tired smile made its way onto her face. "For any other Demon, I would assume that seizing power was the goal...but it''s just a means to an end, isn''t it? You don''t care about ruling."


    "Eh, I will if I have to." Simon grimaced at the thought. "Ideally, there should be competent people I can slot into the requisite positions. Could be tricky getting them to support a Demon, but I''d say Springwater was a good proof of concept, and I''m willing to be flexible as long as they adhere to my proposed reforms."


    "Reforms?"


    He raised an eyebrow. "I''m hardly going to topple the leader of a nation and not make changes. The Severed Isles need fixing. Don''t feel like playing the long game of modifying societal norms over a period of decades, so I''ll just brute force it instead. The higher-ups might resist, but pretty much all of my ideas will be wildly popular with the common folk, so the nobles will have to play along or risk a full-on revolution."


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    Katarina stood up straighter, a measure of energy returning to her as she re-established her mental foothold in the world. "Then you feel confident deciding peoples'' fates for them?"


    "Who else can I trust if not myself? Besides, I''ve studied enough about governance to help run one country."


    "As a start."


    Simon blinked. "What do you mean?"


    "Too late for you to feign ignorance," she scoffed. "Your map has strings of thread connecting to settlements in the nations across the sea. After you''re finished conquering the Severed Isles, you intend to set your sights on the rest of the world."


    "...It depends." Simon morphed his arm back to human form, then laced both hands together. "Need to learn more about those nations first. Are their people happy? Do they have stable, equitable forms of government? Would my intervention make things better or worse? I''ll have to carefully judge their situation, then go from there."


    "And if they fail to meet your lofty standards? What then?"


    "You already know."


    A shiver ran down Katarina''s spine. "Simon...when are you going to stop?"


    He shrugged. "When somebody stops me."


    Another silence suffused the air, longer and more filled with tension than the last.


    Eventually, Katarina sighed. "Why are you telling me all this?"


    "Two reasons. The first is that you asked for an explanation, and here it is. The second is that I wanted you to understand what you''d be getting into."


    He jerked his thumb at the map. "If you join me, that''s what you''ll be setting in motion."


    "So you do want my assistance." She shook her head in disbelief. "Again ¨C why? What could I possibly have to offer you?"


    Simon tapped his forehead. "Amnesia, remember? I need someone who can explain Valtia to me. A guide, of sorts. You aren''t half-bad with a crossbow either."


    And you came back for me.


    Trust was hard-won and easily broken. Simon knew that well. Heroic Valor had made a valid point when it said that he struggled to forge sincere connections with people.


    He could have asked anyone in Springwater to be his guide. Offered them power and riches in return. There were likely dozens of potential candidates who would''ve gladly accepted, their self-interest ensuring their reliability.


    But only one person had risked her life to save his. She could have fled ¨C should have fled ¨C and yet she still came back.


    How many others would have done the same?


    Katarina drummed her fingers on her thigh. "It just so happens that this mission of yours will put you at odds with the nobility." She spoke slowly, as if solving a puzzle. "So in exchange for helping you...I assume you''ll procure the remedy to my father''s illness?"


    "I''ll do that even if you don''t."


    At her surprised stare, Simon chuckled. "I also won''t demand that you follow me until your dying day. You can turn back after we retrieve Gerold''s medicine ¨C or whenever you want, really. This isn''t blackmail, Katarina."


    He spread his arms out. "This is me laying all my cards on the table."


    Simon would have to step on a lot of toes to accomplish his goals. Came with the territory of inciting revolution. By the time he was finished, millions would despise him, including those he was trying to save.


    It would be a thoroughly isolating experience. He couldn''t fall into that trap. Isolation breeds resentment, and resentment fosters hatred. Katarina could act as his canary in the coal mine, keeping him grounded and on-task if he ever got too frustrated with people.


    And after lying to virtually everyone he''d met since entering Valtia...it''d be nice to at least try forming a genuine bond with someone.


    Katarina sank into deep thought. She looked at Simon, and then at the map, seeming to weigh her odds.


    How much faith could she put in him? Would aiding his cause improve her father''s chances of being cured? What other secrets was he hiding?


    If she joined him, what would the future hold?


    "Answer me but one question," Katarina finally said, after some time.


    "Figured you''d have more than just one."


    "I do, but I require time to process everything you''ve told me." She glanced over at him. "What drives you, Simon? Why go to such lengths?"


    ''Do you really need to go that far?'' Grace had once asked, in a soup kitchen he would never see again.


    Simon fidgeted slightly, injecting forced levity into his tone. "Would you believe it''s all for the sake of helping people?"


    "Yes, actually. That much has been shown to me."


    Katarina turned to face him. "But Simon, you''re not the only person who wants to help others. I''d say a fair number of people do. Most are simply too caught up in their own lives to spare the time or effort.


    It takes a unique brand of lunacy to throw everything away and go marching on a mission ¨C one that, in all likelihood, shall end with your death."


    Her unblinking eyes pierced through him like drills. "I just need to know why," she said, brazenly echoing his words from before.


    Clever girl, Simon mused.


    The full answer to that question would take far too long...and frankly speaking, he wasn''t in the mood to relive the dirty details. He wasn''t sure he ever would be.


    Yet there was still one thing he could tell her. One unassailable truth that cut to the core of his motivation.


    "If I don''t do it, who will?"


    He was left on pins and needles as she considered his response. Time went by at a snail''s pace, seeming to go slower with every second.


    Then she nodded, that small motion like a heavy burden lifting from his chest.


    "For my father," Katarina began. "For myself. And..."


    She extended her hand. "For you as well."


    Grinning, Simon grabbed her hand and shook it.


    Katarina recoiled as if she''d touched a hot poker. Her eyes widened yet again as she stared at her palm¨C


    And at the demonic sigil now glowing on her skin. A symbol of the Boon that had been Granted.


    She glanced back up at Simon, seeking more explanations. What she found was twinkling eyes and a deepening grin.


    "Welcome to the fold, Kat."

 Chapter 16.1

    News that Simon would be leaving Springwater swept through the villagers like wildfire.


    Most of them had expected him to stay. From their perspective, slaying the Fell Beast and establishing a position of authority was merely the beginning of his grand master plan. If he''d been given longer than a year to work with, perhaps the transmigrator would have used Springwater as a launching pad to something bigger.


    Yet it wasn''t meant to be. He had places to go, people to kill. The carriage was already loaded up with whatever supplies he hadn''t donated. After Katarina finished saying her goodbyes to Gerold, they would be on their way.


    Wonder if everyone here will be alright, Simon thought, as he walked down the streets to Jonathan''s clinic. It was probably an unnecessary concern ¨C before he arrived, Springwater had gone centuries without a Fell Beast incursion. The creatures typically weren''t smart enough to invent a strategy like burrowing under the perimeter of Warding Orbs.


    He was far more concerned about Springwater''s proximity to Caelryn Cave. When Simon met Kirkelas the Conqueror, the Demon had explained that he periodically sent dreams to people in nearby villages, drawing them to his prison with subconscious promises of riches and glory.


    With the traps in Caelryn Cave all disabled via a steady assembly line of human lives, it would only take one extra would-be adventurer to head down and reach the bottom.


    And Simon couldn''t count on that hypothetical adventurer just...leaving. Not before Kirkelas offered a Contract in exchange for his freedom.


    People had made worse deals for less gain.


    The release of the Sealed Demon of Ruination was one of Simon''s top guesses for being what kicked off the apocalypse. Either someone intentionally setting Kirkelas free, or his Warding cage reaching the natural end of its lifespan next year. The Warding Orbs'' remaining shelf life even lined up with the overall timetable described by Voice-In-The-Sky.


    However, he wasn''t sure how that tied into Duke Helmund. According to Kirkelas, Helmund had been the one to imprison him in the first place.


    It seemed unlikely that a nobleman enjoying a reign of unfettered power would turn around and unleash his greatest foe. However, Simon had also received divine confirmation that assassinating Helmund would forestall the apocalypse.


    Does he release Kirkelas inadvertently? Are the Mana Harvesters somehow related? Or am I overthinking this, and Kirkelas isn''t involved at all?


    Regardless, Simon wished he had a way to restrict the villagers from venturing to Caelryn Cave. He''d considered commanding them not to go, but his Subjugate Territory orders were only partial compulsion. People with strong desires or willpower could presumably shrug off the effect ¨C and unfortunately, neither of those factors were correlated with intelligence.


    He imagined a scene at the local bar. A group of drunken, rowdy carousers are discussing their demonic savior''s odd command. The people start riling each other up, pointing out that the imposing Demon isn''t around anymore. They can totally go to Caelryn Cave, how dare he tell them what to do? Bravery is questioned, pride is wounded, and bets are made.


    Then everyone dies because of the most ill-advised ''hold my beer'' moment in history.


    Should I return to the cave and see if I can block the entrance? After some brief thought, he decided against that course of action. Kirkelas wouldn''t take kindly to the transmigrator screwing him over a second time. Simon didn''t want to find out what arcane tricks the Demon had up his sleeve, even while still Sealed.


    Besides, based on the number of skeletons inside Caelryn Cave versus the length of Kirkelas'' imprisonment, he''d only managed to draw a new lamb to the slaughter once every decade or so. The prospective timetable was in their favor...supposedly.


    Jonathan''s clinic soon came into view. Simon knocked, waited three seconds, then entered. Ignoring the wave of double-takes that his arrival prompted, he strode up to the physician with a casual gait.


    At his approach, Jonathan''s body went rigid. "G-Greetings." He wrung his hands, eye flitting towards the front door. "May I help you, Lord Demon?"


    "Not a Lord." Simon tried for a disarming smile. By the way Jonathan flinched, the attempt was a failure, yet he did try. "Where are Katarina and her father? I''m here to speak with them."


    The physician averted his gaze, pointing at a door in the corner. "Private room. Nicest I''ve got."


    That wasn''t particularly fair to the other patients, some of whom were in worse condition than Gerold, but Simon didn''t intend to say anything. Katarina would be furious if he denied her this minor bit of nepotism. If she was going to be his ally ¨C not just his subordinate, an ally ¨C then both of them would need to make necessary compromises from time to time.


    And he couldn''t begrudge a woman wanting to provide the best care possible for her dying father.


    With a nod, Simon walked over to Gerold''s private room. It was in a secluded corner of the clinic, nearly hidden from view. He reached his hand out to the doorknob¨C


    Then paused. Voices were speaking inside. Katarina and Gerold, both in whispers.


    How can I hear them? Granted, the two weren''t speaking that quietly, yet it was quiet enough that they should''ve been inaudible to someone standing outside. Are my senses heightening as I level up? Didn''t really notice that happening, but I haven''t tried to eavesdrop before either.


    Eavesdropping. That''s what this was. Hardly the way he should be treating his newest ally. Shaking his head, Simon moved to open the door lest he was tempted further.


    Until he heard his name being spoken.


    All semblance of propriety went out the window as he leaned closer, pressing his ear against the door.


    "I can stay if you need me," Katarina professed. Her voice contained a hint of tears, as if she''d recently got done crying. "Don''t have to leave. Simon wouldn''t protest."


    Gerold let out a low chuckle. "I think he would." His voice sounded weak, yet stable. "You made a vow."


    "He would understand. I shouldn''t¨C"


    "Kat." Gerold''s tone swelled with paternal affection. "Where did this come from? You just spent the better part of an hour convincing me that you needed to go. Said you wanted to do right by me, that it was the only way to cure The Ancient''s Gift. Which is insignificant compared to your safety, but...it mattered to you. What changed?"


    A fragile quiet stretched onward as Katarina searched for the right words.


    "Had a thought," she muttered. "That, that if I fail, these next months will be wasted. That this will be the last time I see you. When I could have stayed by your side instead."


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    "You''d regret it more if you discarded this chance. I know how your mind works, Kat."


    She groaned in response. "I hate when you''re right."


    "Always am," he said, with a verbal grin. "It is the ascendant wisdom granted to all fathers."


    "Such as when you told me we should invest our paltry savings into Mortrand''s scheme, only for him to run off and never show his face again?


    "Ah, but wisdom is built on learning from your mistakes. Considering how many times I''ve erred, I do believe that makes me the smartest in the land."


    There was a faint rustling sound. Likely Katarina leaning down to hug Gerold, embracing him in what may very well be their final day together.


    Just as Simon began to feel uncomfortable, like he was intruding on a personal moment, he heard himself being mentioned once more.


    "About the Demon..." Gerold trailed off. "There is something I must tell you."


    "He isn''t what you might think," Katarina interrupted. "Actually seems to care for people ¨C in his own bizarre way."


    "I don''t doubt it. You''re a good judge of character. Taught you well."


    He paused. "But I''m still better at it. Over the years, I''ve learned from my mistakes. From the lowliest beggar to the princeliest noble, from honest benefactors to empty-hearted deceivers, I''ve seen every kind of person there is to see. And while I haven''t spoken with this Demon yet...I caught a glimpse of his gaze before I passed out in the carriage."


    "Is this about being wary of people with nothing behind their eyes? You''ve given me that talk five times, fath¨C"


    "No."


    Gerold raised his voice, injecting every bit of his meager strength into that one word. A stunned silence permeated the air, the man only continuing once he had his daughter''s undivided attention.


    "The Demon doesn''t have nothing behind his eyes ¨C he has too much. When I peered into his gaze, I saw a will of intent so vast and churning that I was liable to drown in it. He won''t stop. Ever. Not until his all-important purpose is achieved."


    Gerold sighed. "Please take care, Kat. Don''t let yourself be engulfed by his ambitions. People like that...sometimes, they don''t even do it deliberately. It''s merely a consequence of who they are."


    Simon pulled away from the door.


    He spent the next thirty seconds quelling the whirlpool of annoyance raging within.


    You seriously think you got all that from a single glance? Clench fingers. Unclench fingers. Just a peek, and I''m apparently an open book to you?


    No conversations shared between them, yet Simon had already been labeled as someone who endangered the people around him.


    A certain degree of leeway could be afforded to Gerold here. He was simply trying to look out for his daughter, who would soon be traveling with a strange man she''d meet a week prior. Gerold would''ve given her some sort of talk even if Simon wasn''t a Demon.


    Still. It reminded him too much of comments that had been directed towards him in the past. People judging him before they knew him ¨C even coming to similar conclusions as Gerold, albeit phrased differently.


    I know I can get a little intense every now and then, but do they have to take it so far?


    Simon breathed in, then exhaled. It''s fine. Katarina has decided to trust me. As I don''t intend to betray that trust, there''s no need to get worked up over mere supposition from an unduly-concerned parent.


    Gathering himself, he lifted his hand and knocked politely. "It''s Simon. May I enter?"


    Seconds later, Katarina opened the door. She wore a tired half-smile on her face, and her eyes were red-rimmed. "Good timing. We were just about finished."


    Simon examined Gerold as he walked inside. The man appeared healthier than before, the deathly pallor of his skin now shaded with a modicum of color. His eyes were alert rather than glassy, staring directly at the transmigrator, cautiously assessing him. "Greetings, Lord Demon," he put forth, in a measured tone.


    "Not a Lord. Call me Simon." He turned to address Katarina. "Mind giving us some privacy? Shouldn''t take long."


    She hesitated. With suppressed emotion, Katarina leaned down to hug Gerold again, squeezing as tightly as his health would allow. "I love you, father. Be well."


    "Same to you, Kat. Same to you."


    Their tender embrace dragged on. A spike of envy flared within Simon, impelling him to turn away. He didn''t look back until Katarina had exited the room entirely.


    Gerold''s piercing gaze was waiting to meet him. "Do you disapprove of familial affection, Demon?"


    Simon''s mouth twisted into a wry grin. Perhaps coming to have a talk immediately after hearing their earlier comments was a mistake. You never tread onto a battlefield when mentally compromised ¨C not if it could be avoided.


    "No more than you disapprove of me," he remarked. "And since you didn''t bat an eye as Katarina left...I''m assuming you have no objections to her joining my cause?"


    "As if I could prevent her from doing anything." Gerold smirked, his voice tinged with fondness. "A more willful woman I''ve never known."


    Noted. "If there''s something you wish to say, then feel free to speak your thoughts. The day is growing older, and we''ll be traveling for some time before we reach our next destination."


    Gerold sat up in his bed. "Then I''ll be forthright." He fixed the transmigrator with a confrontational glare. "Whatever words you used to fill my daughter''s head with fanciful dreams of a cure ¨C it matters not. It''s better if she leaves anyway. This wasting pit of a village is beneath her. Coming here was a fool''s errand, even setting aside how it led us to those Ancient-accursed slavers."


    Simon raised an eyebrow. "The cure does exist, and I do intend to obtain it."


    "You''ll fail. The nobility would rather eat mud than let the smallest treasure slip from their grabbing palms. Yet in the process of failure, Katarina will have the opportunity to spread her wings, becoming something more than this wretched life I''ve inflicted her with. To that end, only one thing ¨C one thing ¨C is important."


    He jabbed a finger forward. "Keep her safe. If she comes to harm, then I''ll find a way to exact painful retribution, even from beyond the boundaries of death itself."


    Simon shook his head. "I assure you, that won''t be necessary."


    Because if Katarina ever perished, it would probably be because they''d both gotten themselves caught in a fatal situation from which there was no escape.


    He''d likely follow her to the grave shortly after.

 Chapter 16.2

    They left Springwater without much fanfare.


    By design. Katarina wasn''t in the brightest mood, and Simon didn''t want to tell Lucia ¨C again ¨C that he didn''t have an immediate solution to the Water Artifact problem. This led to them kinda-sorta sneaking out of the village, hopping onto their loaded carriage and activating its Navigation Crystal as people nearby called out in confused tones.


    Simon expelled a sigh of relief as he watched Springwater shrink into the distance. He''d been getting a little too emotionally invested, which wasn''t conducive to his long-term goals. Best to cut ties for now and check back later.


    All was quiet for some time after. Simon gave Katarina the closest thing to isolation he could, sitting at the opposite end of the carriage as she processed this next chapter of her life. A line from her Identify Description rose to the front of his thoughts.


    ''Fled from Caelryn City to seek a better life. Partially for herself ¨C but mainly for her father.''


    From what he''d seen of her memories, although she and Gerold hadn''t been completely attached at the hip, they''d lived together their whole lives. Leaving him behind in a sickbed couldn''t be easy, even if it was for his own sake.


    Simon granted her a few hours of silent contemplation before eventually speaking up. Much as he wanted to give her longer, they had vital plans that needed finalizing. "Is there an area where Fell Beasts congregate?" he started with.


    "Huh?" Katarina turned towards him, a befuddled expression on her face as her train of thought shifted gears. "Why ask?"


    "As mentioned, my capacity for growth is exceptional ¨C and that growth is primarily stimulated by combat and killing." With the occasional stimulus of bonus EXP from Heroic Valor, but he didn''t know how to explain that yet. "We couldn''t take on a lower-ranking noble family in my current state, let alone Duke Helmund."


    His right arm tensed with anticipation. "I need more power."


    Slowly, Katarina nodded. "I...understand. Is that a trait other Demons also possess, or is it just you?"


    "Don''t think they do, but I can''t be certain."


    "Because of the memory loss." She sent him an exasperated look. "Still can''t believe you hid that from us. Successfully. You''d have fit right in among the conmen of Caelryn City."


    The system agrees with you, Simon thought, laughing to himself. "I''ll choose to take that as a compliment. So: the Fell Beasts. Where can I find them? Are there any specific biomes they gather in? Or a nest where they spawn?"


    "Maybe. If such places exist, then I am unaware of them."


    She rested her chin on her hands, thinking. "The origin of Fell Beasts is a mystery. They''re less like wild animals and more like roaming calamities. Decently rare, too. You can go years without ever seeing one."


    "I''ve met three since I ''awakened'' twelve days ago."


    "Somehow, I am unsurprised." She rolled her eyes. "Trouble seems to seek you out. Or is it perhaps the other way around?"


    Or it''s a ploy devised by the gods of Evil, ensuring that I transmigrated to a location where everything was about to hit the fan. If I look at things from their perspective and treat Valtia like a cosmic strategy game, then they''d have planned several steps ahead. Assuming I survived Stuart, the Red-Eyed Hunter, Kirkelas, and the slavers...


    I would''ve naturally headed to Springwater, the closest nearby settlement. Where the Ravenous Wanderer awaited.


    He grinned internally. But their plans for me shouldn''t extend far beyond that. Now that I''ve transmigrated, the gods aren''t allowed to further influence Valtia. And theoretically speaking, I could travel anywhere after leaving Springwater. There''s too many options for Evil to account for. They can''t have booby-trapped the entire world.


    Probably.


    "Whatever the case," Simon continued, "I''ll need to find more of that trouble if we want to achieve our goals. Start fights, win fights, grow stronger. I could wander through the wasteland without Warding Orbs, inviting Fell Beasts to come snack on me, but..."


    He drummed his fingers on his leg. "No. Isn''t consistent enough. Especially if the Beasts are an uncommon occurrence. Would be faster to hunt people instead."


    The words were out of his mouth before he could revise them into something socially acceptable. They hung in the air, thick and heavy, portending a violent, blood-soaked future.


    Katarina took her time to respond. "You can''t defeat any of the nobles as you are," she began, in a careful tone. "Not even those of lesser renown. Many are trained extensively from birth, and their lineage typically grants them high affinity with mana. The ones that fail at both will still have access to hundreds of well-paid soldiers."


    "Correct." Simon put on a warm smile. "Yet it''s a wide, wide world out there. There''s plenty of acceptable targets who I wouldn''t lose sleep over killing. Weak people with weaker morals."


    He gestured at the carriage. "You''ve already encountered some of them. It''s how we met."


    Katarina''s expression hardened. Memories flashed in her gaze ¨C visions of time spent imprisoned in a dark carriage, bound and tied, her autonomy stolen. Questioning if she would ever be free again.


    "If it''s villains you seek," she hissed, "then look no further than Caelryn City. I can point you towards a dozen gangs of outlaws. Unfeeling reprobates who paint the streets in blood, always taking and taking and taking, no less of a ruthless parasite than the nobility. You definitely wouldn''t be losing sleep over them."


    Not roaming slavers? Simon had expected her to suggest groups like Lucette''s, specifically. What Katarina was describing sounded closer to locally-based criminal gangs. Unless...


    Is she trying to use me to settle old scores? A demonic hitman aimed at longtime enemies?


    "Why Caelryn City?" he said. "You''ve made it explicitly clear that you despise that place. Figured you would want to go literally anywhere else."


    Her fists clenched. "Things will be different this time."


    Oh yeah, she''s absolutely using me to go on a revenge tour. Whoever made her life miserable growing up will be the first names that spill out of her mouth.


    Simon quickly decided that he didn''t really care. He could vet Katarina''s suggestions with Identify and Sin Scry. If she chose well, then fantastic. If she chose poorly, he''d just ignore her. Caelryn City sounded like the quintessential hive of scum and villainy, so he would be spoiled for choice regardless.


    And most of all...he couldn''t help but feel a measure of sympathy for her. Simon understood how she felt.


    Shame that I''ll never get to go on an Earth revenge tour of my own.


    "Caelryn City it is." He motioned at the Navigation Crystal. "You''ll have to make the adjustments. I don''t know how, because of the amnesia, etc, etc."


    "You aren''t to blame for that. Few people outside of the well-traveled know how to operate a Navigation Crystal."


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Then how do you?"


    Faint redness crept into her cheeks. "I...found myself in a circumstance where I would be able to drive a carriage. For a brief period of time. Once."


    After narrowing down the possibilities via process of elimination, Simon went for broke, throwing out the only idea that made sense to him. "You hijacked a merchant''s caravan and took it for a joyride, didn''t you? Probably crashed it too."


    He flinched at the thought. "You seem embarrassed rather than regretful, so I''m guessing and hoping that no one was seriously injured."


    Katarina leaned back, thunking her head against the wooden carriage interior. "I was a child, alright?!" she grumbled. "Knew I couldn''t steal the Crystal ¨C they''d hunt me down and slaughter me. Should''ve just taken a handful of baubles and left...but it was unguarded...and they''re never unguarded...and I had time to experiment...and..."


    "And when were you ever going to get that chance again?" Simon finished.


    She chuckled, glancing over at their carriage''s Navigation Crystal. "If I''d known that I would own a caravan someday, maybe I wouldn''t have been so desperately eager."


    "Was anyone injured in the crash?" he repeated, more insistently.


    "Aside from the carriage itself ¨C may it rest in peace ¨C no. Wasn''t the sturdiest contraption. Lost a duel with the broad side of a brick wall."


    Katarina suddenly perked up. "How about a change of topic to distract you from my embarrassment of years past? Because I believe I''ve made up my mind."


    Simon relaxed. "Made up your mind in what way?"


    "The demonic Boon." She met his gaze. "I am ready to accept it."


    A smile spread over the transmigrator''s face. "Glad to hear it. I was pretty surprised when you rejected it last time, you know."


    Evidently, Boons could be spurned even after they''d been Granted ¨C which is precisely what Katarina had done, shrieking and shaking her hand like a venomous insect was crawling on it. The mark of the Boon disappeared soon after.


    "You shouldn''t have been surprised," she murmured. "What sort of madwoman would immediately accept demonic energy imposed upon her body? You didn''t even inform me of what the Boon was until after I''d already rejected it in a panic!"


    "Fair, but considering the understanding we''d reached back then, the vows exchanged, the handshake..."


    He shook his head sadly, like she was an uncultured boor who just didn''t get it. "Don''t you have any sense of dramatic timing?"


    Two unimpressed eyes glared at him. "I''m going to regret this, aren''t I?"


    He replied by extending his arm. It swirled with a blackened, demonic aura, the energy pulsating as if it was a living creature.


    Katarina hesitated only a moment before reaching out to grasp his hand in hers.


    This time, instead of pulling away in a flash, she waited until his energy had settled onto her. When they finally unclasped hands, her palm was marked by what appeared to be a shining tattoo ¨C a symbol of the Boon that had been granted.


    There were five connected lines pointing upward in the same direction. Like the sharpened edges of a thrusting trident, ready to skewer its enemies and lay them low.


    The sigil of Kirkelas the Conqueror.


    Simon recognized it from just a glance. The knowledge felt implicit and instinctual. He was recreating the Sealed Demon''s of Ruination''s powerset, one ability at a time.


    Will I be able to recreate more after my next Class Advancement? And when combined with the gods'' system...how long is it before I eventually surpass him?


    Katarina frowned at the Boon''s symbol, glowing conspicuously on her right palm. "That''s inconvenient. Suppose I''ll need to wear gloves from now on." She looked up at Simon. "So, this power I''m meant to gain, how does it¨C"


    With a gasp, she stumbled back.


    Simon''s heart started racing, confusion melding with fear, his adrenaline surging as he moved to help¨C


    Until he noticed the look on Katarina''s face. As she laid there on the floor, tense and open-mouthed, her eyes were also rapidly moving back and forth. Her gaze was focused intently, yet directed seemingly at nothing.


    Like she was reading invisible text.


    "Ancient''s blood, what is this?!" Katarina swallowed a lump in her throat, laboriously picking herself up off the ground. "There''s...words! In the air! Like pages from a book! But the pages are clear, like peering through water! And the words¨C"


    Her eyes widened even further. "Simon, I don''t know this language! I''ve never seen it before! So why can I understand it?!"


    Simon remained silent for ten awkward seconds.


    The first five seconds were spent perusing his Character Sheet, confirming that ¨C despite Grant Boon''s extensive Description and long list of rules ¨C it had never specified the exact form his Boon would take.


    The next three seconds were spent comprehending that he''d bestowed some variant of the gods'' system onto a resident of Valtia. In English. Which she could now read.


    The final two seconds were spent attempting to devise an explanation.


    "Demon magic," is what he went with.


    "No! You can''t just ''Demon magic'' your way out of this one!"


    "Don''t know what to tell you. That''s how my power has always appeared to me ¨C floating, translucent pages that denote my abilities and personal parameters."


    Katarina ran her hands down her face. "This is utterly unlike anything I''ve heard of. Not in stories or legends or...are you doing this on purpose? Rather than manipulating humans into selling their souls, do you derive sustenance from astonishing people? Is giving me constant gray hairs the price I must pay for you being a decent person?"


    "Funny as that would be, no." Simon calmly sat back down, the very picture of serenity. "What does your Character Sheet say? That''s what I call it. You should see lines of text stating ''Class'', ''Attributes'', and ''Level'', to start with."


    Sworn to Secrecy hadn''t kicked in yet. The Trait''s Description specified that: ''The existence of other worlds, and the transmigration process in general, cannot be revealed in any capacity to the natives of Valtia.''


    Was the system itself free game, as long as he didn''t expose where it came from? Or was Grant Boon providing an unexpected loophole?


    "I see those words," Katarina affirmed. "Class. Attributes. Level. What do they mean?"


    "Class describes your overall life vocation, like a swordsman or an archer. Attributes will depend on what''s written in that section. Level is a general barometer for inherent power ¨C you may remember me mentioning that several days ago."


    She squinted at her Character Sheet, reading closely. "The letters ''N'' and ''A'' are written next to Attributes, with a diagonal slash in between. Level has the number 11 beside it. Class..."


    Her face scrunched into an affronted snarl. "I''m an Urchin?!"


    If Simon knew how to whistle, he would have done so nonchalantly.