Demonic Conqueror: Heroic Valor - Chapter 16.1, 16.2

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 – 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 – 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 – not just his subordinate, an ally – 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–

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–"

"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."

"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 – 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–"

"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 – 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 – 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 – 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 – 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 – one thing – 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.

--

They left Springwater without much fanfare.

By design. Katarina wasn't in the brightest mood, and Simon didn't want to tell Lucia – again – 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 – 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 – 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 – 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."

"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 – 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 – may it rest in peace – 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."

As it turned out, Boons could be spurned even after they'd been Granted – 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 – 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–"

With a gasp, she stumbled back.

Simon's heart started racing, confusion melding with fear, his adrenaline surging as he moved to help–

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–"

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 – despite Grant Boon's extensive Description and long list of rules – 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 – 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 – 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.

--

Thanks for reading!