"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–"

  "I mean it." The injured woman stared down at the ground, clenching both fists – 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 – 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 – 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–"

  "Yes, yes. This doesn't alter our pre-existing agreement. Those supplies were a donation – 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."

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  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–"

  "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 – 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 – 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' – 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.