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Chapter 40 - House of Cards Pt.4

Within the Biron study, I stood in front of a set of notes written on a blackboard. While most of the notes belonged to myself, a respectable chunk were written by that peculiar professor I'd had an impromptu encounter with.

I must say, I was impressed by the man. It’s been quite some time since I’d met someone who understood me to such an extent. More importantly, while I’d given him quite a few nuggets of information, I soon found our discussion accelerating into a verbal ping pong of ideas. He was also fairly handsome and had an attractive personality, which was strange. I hadn't felt that way when talking to anyone since I got turned into goop. He must have a Charisma stat or Skill or something, I mentally noted. Most curious.

Of all the books I’d read or skimmed so far, I hadn’t found anything discussing things like souls or resurrection. While only one of various topics I was looking into, this was still somewhere in the upper-middle of my priority list. Consolidating knowledge I’d learned from Amalia was vital. Just because the people of this world believed something didn’t mean I shouldn’t try to verify the matter, especially when it was important.

Grain of salt and all that.

It was a bit disappointing to hear even someone who claimed to be a professor, at what I can only imagine is a fairly prestigious university, confirm the whole death-resurrection matter. That said, there surely must be more to play. After all, I was near-proof that souls and gods or whatever exist. The whole status menus and HP thing was arbitrary and comical enough that it bothered me. And the way he’d phrased things like souls ‘shattering’ caught my attention. Perhaps a coincidence, or just lazy phrasing?

That aside, not only had that Grinwald fellow provided information on souls, but he’d also explained some ‘fundamentals’ concerning magic and Mana. I’d have to leaf through the books he’d given me. It was quite surprising to hear he was also an author. I may have accidentally just met a famous person. A chance encounter, perhaps?

Ah. Now I really do want to visit that ‘Institute’ place. I can only imagine how detailed and vast the information I could obtain there would be. But I wasn't mentally or physically prepared for such a place, so it was impossible for now.

… At least Biron’s library had been helpful.

So far I’d learned numerous things concerning local law. Namely, that I’d really screwed the pooch when I ate that Dungeon Core, and that treason was reason enough to have your entire family potentially implicated. Thankfully, I just had a pet dog and a chatty houseplant to endanger.

Now, there wasn’t anything regarding a royal pardon, but I can only imagine that such a thing should exist. With how things stood and from what I’d read, it was becoming clear that it was probably best to just hope they lost interest and put the matter behind me. Or bribe their king or someone nearly as important. That's probably a different crime though. I'd just bank on hoping they didn't care enough to invest any real resources into finding me.

Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion, but after witnessing how strong Hendrickson was, my expectations and self-confidence had been forcefully readjusted. I thought I'd gotten stronger in the past three months, and taking on all those bandits basically alone had overinflated my ego. I was becoming unsure of how strong the soldiers and whatnot in this country's upper echelon really were. I still thought I could take out someone like Hendrickson in a dirty fight or the dead of night if necessary, but I was getting progressively more worried from all I'd read the past few days. I needed to reach another Evolution, skip town, then go back to grinding away for a while. I had enough information for now.

In other news, owning property and a business was a bit simpler than I expected. The burden of business lay more in tax forms and documenting sales. The ledger of sales and documents they required were basic. Probably due to a low level of education relative to what I was used to. Acquiring initial capital and investment was going to be the hard part, then came finding property for sale in a good location.

Well, I’d worry about that later. I had more immediate concerns. Money wasn’t a problem right now and I had a source of revenue in Precious. Not having identification of any form was an issue, but I could likely resolve that in a few months with more shape-shifting practice and greasing of hands. Then I could buy a house and get back to not being a cave-dweller. I wasn't mentally cut out for the tedium of working months on end with little rest. While necessary, it was also tiresome and I felt it dulling my senses. Perhaps a short vacation was in order after I finished up my business in town and that dungeon.

Suddenly, the Link buzzed.

“Roz? Roz, are you there?”

“What is it, Amalia?”

“A-Are you busy right now? Do you think you’d be able to stop by Mr. Hendrickson’s home?”

Hm? That’s odd. Why would she be asking me that?

“Explain.”

There was a pause. I imagined her fidgeting somewhere in town, trying to find the words to say.

“There, uhm … There was a little bit of an accident. I was hoping you could help us out.”

I felt a core-ache coming on.

“Nothing serious, I assume?”

Another pause.

“Uhh, well, if you were here I don’t think you’d consider it serious.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Not having the facial muscles to frown left me feeling exasperated. I wanted a way to express my displeasure. This really did sound like a bother.

Well, I was getting a bit tired, I suppose. A brief change of pace might be welcome. Let’s go see what’s got my little knight in a huff. Hmhmm.

Biron was apparently busy, no doubt talking to that professor or something, so I notified one of the guards that I was leaving for the day and intended to return the following morning.

After arriving at the Hendrickson estate, I noticed the mood was a bit strange among the two gatemen. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but they seemed … amused? When I was nearly out of earshot, I heard the two men chuckle and whisper something. I didn't much care for that.

Shuffling my way to the courtyard, I witnessed a small gathering consisting of my two companions and the Hendrickson couple. Maxwell was currently shirtless with his chest and shoulder wrapped in several lightly bloodied bandages. Confused, I paused to make sure I wasn’t seeing anything.

… Yup, definitely bandages.

“The heck happened to you?” I scoffed, approaching the mummified man. He gave me a pained grin.

“Just feeling my age a bit today.”

I brushed off his cocky chuckle and stared Amalia down until she explained. Apparently, Hendrickson was training at the knight’s barracks and met his match. Considering how hale the old goat is, I find the notion of someone being stronger than him ... concerning.

This at least explains what Amalia was talking about. I’m not sure why they didn’t provide proper medical attention at the barracks. Shouldn’t they have some healers on staff or something?

I sighed. “Let me see.”

Stepping forward, I put my hand on his back and sent a bit of Mana in to inspect the damage.

“What the fuck?!” A curse unintentionally slipped out of my mouth, before I stepped in front of him. “How did you manage to break four ribs and your clavicle? Even your arm is fractured!”

I stared at Hendrickson for a moment. Short of an oversized anvil crashing down on him, I didn’t understand how this musclehead could’ve gotten so roughed up. More importantly, why is he moving around with broken ribs!? Doesn’t he realize how bad this break is? Two of the ribs are in danger of jabbing into his lungs!

“You shouldn’t even be up and about like this! What are you doing, idiot?! Find a bed or something to lay down on. Now. Let’s go.”

He turned to Amalia with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Ah, you were right. I got yelled at.”

“Mm, I told you so,” she replied in a whisper, shoulders slumping.

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Moving forward an hour, Hendrickson was now laying on his side on a couch in his living room. While I didn’t dare say ‘Good as new!’, in the very least his lungs were no longer in danger of turning into pincushions.

For whatever reason, healing him was perceptibly harder and more draining than Amalia, or even that noble girl of Biron's. I could only speculate why, though I had a few ideas. HP and all. Maybe it was age, or just his level being higher? Hells if I knew. I didn't want to be around enough higher leveled people to experiment. Hendrickson smacking a speeding block of ice out of the air already had me rethinking being in his general vicinity, and now this?! Bah!

I stared at him from a short distance away. I was still tired, so I claimed one of his sofas as my own. Mrs. Hendrickson was out shopping for soup ingredients with Val. Amalia sat nearby. After all this exertion, I was feeling a bit grumpy.

While I was sipping tea and pondering creating taste buds and to change the flavor of my drink, Hendrickson interrupted.

“I’m a bit surprised you were so angry with me. Honestly, I thought you’d get a good laugh out of it.”

He said it with a chuckle, so I assumed that was supposed to be a joke. I looked at him dryly.

“Why would I? If someone is going to do a job, I think they should do it properly. You’re a knight, aren’t you? Why are you getting injured during training or whatever? If you get injured, then you can’t work. Think of the people you’re letting down or inconveniencing.”

Hendrickson was looking at me with a face that screamed, ‘I can’t believe you!’ What’s his problem?

“*ahem* Anyway, if you’re injured then that means you can’t train Amalia. Just consider this payment for the favor.”

Hendrickson’s brows furrowed and he looked like he’d swallowed a frog for a second.

“You know, Rozalin, I would’ve trained Amalia here with or without you helping me today. It’s not about payment or favors.”

Amalia exhaled off to the side, “M-Mr. Hendrickson…”

I glanced at Amalia. She had a silly ‘touched’ look on her face. So dumb.

“Sure, whatever, I'll pretend I believe that,” I replied, “Just try not to get injured again, okay? At least not for a few days, anyway.”

Hendrickson frowned, grievance appearing on his face. He let out a throaty sigh.

“It’s not like I was trying to get injured, y’know? This is the second time this month I’ve encountered a woman whose strength makes no sense. Ahh, maybe I should just retire already.”

Hendrickson began to lament something or another. Seeing that this conversation was going nowhere, I stood.

“I’m going back to the inn. I haven’t slept in three days, so I’m tired.”

More importantly, maintaining my form and speaking properly were becoming a hassle. I was already skimping on coloration and some internal features. If I stayed here too long, I’d pass out and revert back to normal. Or in the very least, start slurring my words. No, thank you! Hard pass.

Wishing everyone goodbye, I quickly returned and undressed. After grabbing a pillow and blanket, I huddled underneath the inn’s bed and wrapped myself up. While my body didn’t require or produce much heat, I still found the blanket’s security comforting. Thankfully, this district wasn’t terribly noisy during the day. Sleep found me within moments.

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Amalia and Maxwell sat within the latter’s home. Hendrickson’s gruff tone interrupted the silence.

“Ahh~ That mistress of yours sure has a sharp tongue. She didn’t hold back at all.”

“Roz isn’t … so great with strangers,” Amalia said with a sheepish look on her face, “She gets better after you get to know her! I think.”

Hendrickson cocked an eyebrow at the much younger woman. “Really?”

“Y-Yeaahhh…”

As Amalia trailed off, not even she appeared to be convinced. Hendrickson could only shake his head and laugh while the young beastkin averted her eyes.

“What an odd person she is.”

“Mm. But that’s what makes her so fun to be around," Amalia said with a smile, before deflating a bit, "I mean, when she isn’t doing something dangerous.”

Amalia gave Hendrickson a tired nod and smile. Truly, she’d never met anyone like Rozalin. She probably wouldn’t ever again either. Considering all the stories Rozalin told her over the past few months, she couldn’t imagine an existence like Rozalin falling out of nowhere again.

So other than the occasional near-death experience or plan gone wrong, she enjoyed being around the slime woman. And it was better than being alone, foraging and hunting along the countryside, constantly on edge. That much was for sure. Knowing she was safe while sleeping or that she didn't have to go a few days without food was a relief. Gone were the days of sleeping in trees and getting stomach cramps from a misidentified berry or nut.

A few darker thoughts surfaced from when she was still in her hometown, Kulve. Amalia quickly shook her head to push them back down.

Yes, this was better than those times especially. Much, much better.

Still, Amalia could really do without the almost-dying thing. She figured if she became stronger, then fewer things like that would happen. Plus, she could be a bit more reliable to Rozalin and slowly try to pay her back. Somehow, someday.

“You’re making excellent progress, you know. Sorry I won’t be able to spar with you for a few days, from the looks of it, but I’m sure the boys around here wouldn’t mind joining you.”

Hendrickson could only offer an apologetic smile at Amalia as he lay on the couch. His morning hadn’t gone at all as planned. The duo had stopped by the barracks. Hendrickson had needed to pick up and deliver a few documents, so he decided to give young Amalia a brief tour. Once they’d arrived at the training courtyard, he’d noticed an anomaly.

An incredibly beautiful woman, seemingly in her mid-20s, was sparring with the knights. Upon asking one of the officers, Hendrickson was told she was dispatched from the Capital and had decided to pay them an inspection visit. That statement belied what Hendrickson was witnessing. Clad in nothing more than an elegant dress and completely without weapon in hand, the woman had beaten down every single man and woman alike that had ‘sparred’ with her.

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Quite brutally, and with what appeared to be a small degree of pleasure, given her flushed facial expressions.

Whether Hendrickson’s pride as a Captain or anger at watching several of his own subordinates rolling on the ground and hunched over on benches, he couldn’t say for sure. He’d thought to at least reclaim a small bit of the garrison’s honor from that silver-haired woman’s disdainful smile.

And yet, here he was now, laying at home with shattered bones, a deflated ego, and nothing to show for it. Quite depressing, he felt.

A worried look was plastered on Amalia’s face. She’d been present for the 'fight'—brief as it was. Watching her new sword-mentor get blown 10 meters through the air and into a wall had been mildly distressing, to say the least. More than worry about her sudden lack of tutelage, she was more concerned with Hendrickson’s well-being. People weren’t supposed to bend that way.

Unfortunately, what little prowess Amalia had in Healing magic was dwarfed by those present at the barracks. She wasn’t nearly as competent or confident treating others as she was at treating herself. Minor injuries, sure, but not that. The only thing she could think to do was rely on Rozalin. Again.

Rather than attempting to employ the services of one of the scarce, high-level, professional healers in town, Amalia trusted Rozalin's abilities and discretion much more. It’d be far faster, and cheaper to boot. Trying to save face for the Knight-Captain was an added bonus. Sure, Rozalin might think less of the man, but it wasn’t like she’d spread word around town.

Hendrickson had received some healing at the garrison, then bluffed his way home. Amalia sat there feeling despondent. After a moment, Hendrickson's voice perked her ears up.

He muttered, "Still can't believe how fast she got me fixed up. Lady Rozalin's healing magic sure is ... unorthodox, yet effective."

Amalia nodded at the man, though a bit unsure what he meant. While she thought Roz's use of magic was strange in general, it wasn't like she had enough experience with healing magic to know what 'normal' healers were like. After all, it'd been a long time since someone other than Rozalin had used healing magic on her.

For his part, Hendrickson wondered why the tiny woman seemed to have such an endless Mana pool. He still had his suspicions, which were only being reinforced in the direction of the woman being a rogue demon or devil subtype. After all, the feeling of the magic she'd just used on him had only reinforced that suspicion. He's heard Alphonse's report from Aryana and her conclusions about Rozalin's healing magic, and he was much in agreement. There were very few similarities to any of the other healers in town.

Of course, he didn't realize that she was a Slime and was secretly sipping Mana potions while casting, or that her efficiency at healing magic in particular was much higher than other healers. That certainly would have been a shock. He also didn't realize that Rozalin's understanding of healing magic and her methods of applying Mana and reconstructing the body were completely different than any church or ways mages taught, hence the 'weird' feeling.

Well, that was becoming irrelevant. Hendrickson had mostly put the matter aside at this point. Aryana was healed, and while he had some remaining curiosity and security worries, nothing Rozalin had done so far had shown any ill intent at all. In addition, his poking around hadn't gone unnoticed by Amalia, and he didn't particularly want to upset the girl for no good reason, as he was becoming quite fond of her.

So, even if Rozalin were a non-human, it wasn't like being grumpy was a crime, otherwise there'd be dozens of people in town hanged already. A lax eye and ear were all that were warranted at this point.

The old knight and young woman sat in relative silence for a bit, content to simply relax. After a moment, Amalia stood up.

"I'm going to go train more."

"Mm," Hendrickson grunted, "Sure you don't want to take a break? You've been at it for quite a while already."

There was a pause. She shook her head, "No, I need to hurry and catch up."

Though his lips started, nothing more was said. Hendrickson simply watched her small back as she headed out. He laid on the couch, deep in thought. While he admired the girl's attitude and work ethic, he couldn't help but feel she was pushing herself too hard. She'd confided in him a few worries over the past week, but he could tell she was still keeping things bottled up.

Regret built up in Hendrickson's chest for a moment. He didn't want to see a repeat. He was quite amazed she'd managed to maintain such a positive outlook on life and people, but every so often he'd see small cracks in the armor she'd built up. But he wasn't a God that could solve all the world's animosity and problems. Hopefully a guiding hand would keep her on the right path, though he worried in some ways about that Rozalin woman's influence over the teen. He still wished he could steal and recruit Amalia into his regiment, though that would open up some other problems.

Shortly after, his wife Teresa and Val returned from their trip. The two had certainly hit it off well, discussing all manner of things. Still, even for an elf, Hendrickson thought Val was quite eccentric. Perhaps he just hadn't met enough elves, but something about the woman seemed fake. He could only shrug to himself.

Hendrickson's thoughts turned back to earlier in the day, along with that silver-haired woman at the barracks.

Lucretia.

His jaw tensed. He was still inwardly fuming at the events and how she'd made fools of and injured his men. Not to mention the thrashing she'd casually given him. Even after taking a demotion and coming this far out into the country, it seemed like those pricks at the Capital still liked to agitate him one way or another. If one of the Blades was going to stop for 'inspection', they could have at least warned him. He was aware of another Blade in town, though that man's activities had been far more discreet and professional.

Possibilities and plans of action ran through his mind. While he hadn't expected to get injured so severely, at least now it seemed like he wouldn't be out of commission for long. The timing could have been worse, but certainly better.

Rozalin's words ran through his mind. "If someone is going to do a job, I think they should do it properly."

A small chucked escaped his throat. What a strange woman.

Hendrickson pushed himself off the couch and decided he should get back to work himself.

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Amalia stood in the training yard panting. After several hours of practicing with the guard knights and some squires, she was exhausted.

Skill Increased!

Swordsmanship Lvl. 4 → Lvl. 5

It's not enough.

Frustration bubbled up. She wasn't sure where it stemmed from. Ever since Rozalin had helped her out, Amalia felt like things were turning around. She saw a glimpse of hope where there was previously only a snuffed out flame. Then the months that followed, she watched the slime woman advance by leaps and bounds in mere months.

It must be said, Rozalin wasn't a particularly chatty person. Lately though, Amalia noted that she was talking to her more often. From their limited conversations on the topic, it seemed Rozalin had gained either a Skill or Level almost every other day, and had an abundance of Skills. Yet it had taken all week for Amalia to get a single Skill increase. When she compared herself to Rozalin, she felt quite inferior. Rozalin seemed like she could do anything she put her mind to.

Amalia was able to rationalize her feelings. She knew Rozalin was working non-stop around the clock, so it made sense for her to advance quickly. But Amalia felt frustrated nonetheless by how often she got tired or had to take breaks—by how fragile she was compared to Rozalin.

Amalia knew that a week wasn't bad at all for a single Skill up. Quite the opposite, in fact. She felt much stronger and more confident after all the practice, having learned a lot in that short period of time. Training had been much more productive than bashing away at mindless skeletons in a Dungeon for weeks on end, even if it didn't really raise her Level. But it still felt like she was stuck in mud, trying to trudge forward. Right now her muscles were sore and her Mana felt strained and faint. She knew she couldn't do much more today, or at least for a few hours.

With a resigned groan, the young beastkin sat down and began toweling herself off while using a small bit of Healing magic to help with the worst of the muscle aches. She'd already used one Mana potion during training that Rozalin had given her. Most humans could drink two or three per day before getting Mana Sickness, but Amalia found herself feeling unwell halfway through the second one a few times, so she stopped. Amalia had asked Val and Rozalin about this.

Rozalin said she wasn't aware of such a thing, but Val said most elves could drink upwards of five, average-quality Mana potions per day. Rozalin had become curious and tested her own consumption limits one night, but soon replied she didn't want to use her stock after 'wasting' the 5th one on the test. Last Amalia checked, Rozalin only had around a dozen or so potions made. Other than turning a slightly more purple shade, Rozalin had seemed fine.

After resting up, Amalia went to get dressed in her normal attire. Moments later and she was heading back to the inn to check on Rozalin.

While walking by one of the side roads, she heard something. As a half-beastkin, she naturally had better hearing and smell. Sounds of a scuffle and someone crying snuck into her ears.

Amalia's eyes widened as her head snapped toward the disturbance. Before she knew it, her feet had her briskly walking toward the source, before breaking out into a run. The noise quickly became clearer. Two corner turns later, she was standing before a group of three, decently-dressed teenagers stoning a slightly younger boy's back, with the boy shielding an even younger girl in front of him. The boy and girl wore tattered clothing and shoes with numerous patches.

As the three teens chuckled and began to throw another rock, anger welled up in Amalia.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing!" she hollered, causing the three to jolt and snap their heads her way. A second later, they relaxed and settled on looking annoyed.

One spat on the ground, "The heck are you? Stay out of this, girl."

"Yeah! Mind your own business. We caught this wretch stealin' from Mister Keever's stall, so butt out."

Amalia looked at the boy's back, no doubt bleeding and bruised underneath his shirt. The thought only made her angrier as several flashbacks struck her. She tried to push those feelings down and keep a cool head.

She glared at the three, "If someone is stealing, then report it to the guards! It's their job to investigate and hand out punishments, not yours. You can't just stone people! That's illegal!"

"Tch!" one of the boys clicked his tongue, "Guards don't need bothered for a stall thief stealing food. We're doing community service by taking care of it for 'em, see? Now piss off or the next one's aimed right at your head, ya weird mutt."

Amalia's eye twitched.

Mutt? They did this to them just over some food?

Her hand went for her sword handle, before hesitating and switching to her coin purse.

"How much was the food they stole? I'll pay for them."

"Ain't about money anymore," one scoffed, taking a step toward her, "This is about teaching thieves a lesson and cleaning up the streets. If you let this shit go, it just gets worse."

Amalia kept her voice measured and firm, "Then I'll call Captain Hendrickson down and the guards can deal with this. Or should I just let you three continue on and ignore you three illegally assaulting town citizens. You don't fix wrongs with more wrongs!"

All three teens now faced toward her, one grabbing a wooden plank from up against a nearby wall, before passing it to another and repeating the process. The third unsheathed a foot-long knife from his hip.

"Don't think we like your tone, mutt."

Amalia's jaw tensed and her blood boiled. Finally, she gave in to their stinging provocation.

"And I think you three need a lesson on laws and not being a bunch of assholes," she said coldly, finally unsheathing her sword.

The glint of cold, polished steel became visible in the alley. Amalia ripped her cloak off and tossed it to the ground. With a hilt in one hand and her sheath firmly held in the other, she began walking toward them slowly, closing the distance down the alleyway corridor. Her eyes scanned the scene before her, carefully judging distance, positioning, width of the alley, and the unevenness of the cobblestone.

Amalia growled throatily, "I'm not good at healing like Roz, and I'm not skilled enough to go easy. If you don't want to get hurt, back off."

The three teens looked at her warily. In a fight with their numbers, their odds certainly weren't bad. Amalia looked at them coldly. One stared at her, weighing their chances and things of that nature, before whispering to the other two.

"... Think that's the beastkin whelp that's been hanging around the Knight Captain past week. Pretty sure I seen her and them clothes in the markets a bunch. Not worth it. Let's get outta here."

The three locked eyes, before nodding at each other. With a few rude gestures, words, and noise, the three turned the other way and went back down the alley. Their impromptu wooden weapons were discarded as they kicked rocks and debris angrily along the street.

The indignation in Amalia's chest subsided somewhat before she sheathed her sword. It then flared back up and she punched a nearby wall.

Roz told me not to get in trouble. And I did it again.

Now mad at herself, the young woman tried to shake those feelings off and change her focus. The young man was still hunched over on the ground, arms wrapped around the pre-teen girl and whispering assurances to her. A tiny trickle of blood ran down the back of his neck, matting some of his hair.

Amalia sighed. What's done is done. At this point, even Rozalin would tell her something silly like, "If you're going to do something, see it through! Idiot!"

Or so she thought. Actually, Rozalin would definitely say something like that. She could even imagine the tone she'd use.

Amalia sighed, heading over to them, "Are you two alright?"

The lad finally turned around to look at their unexpected savior.

"W-We really didn't mean anything. Please, forgive us."

Amalia noted the girl had a bloody nose and swollen eye. She frowned.

"Come here, you two are hurt."

With a resigned frown, Amalia rolled her sore shoulder and uncorked her second Mana potion of the day. ...

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A short while later, Amalia had finished healing the two's injuries. The girl only had a bloody nose and some swelling, but the boy's back had been in bad shape. They were also quite malnourished, which just reminded Amalia of the state she'd been in when Rozalin found her. Looking at her clean hands and clothing now, she felt an odd sense of guilt. Even the callouses on her hands were more or less clean.

After chatting with the two, they'd calmed down a little and thanked her profusely, especially after the healing part. Amalia didn't know what to say to them. She knew why they were stealing food. Was she supposed to scold them still? That felt ... backwards. Amalia knew how hard it was for orphans and the like to find jobs. Even if they should have had an easier time than her in doing so, that didn't make it any less hard. It wasn't a good situation. People shouldn't steal, but was them starving any better?

If more people stole though, then others might go hungry after being stolen from. It wasn't good, none of it. It was a cycle with no clear end or beginning. There was no good 'justice' to solve this problem.

Frustrating.

With a deep sigh, Amalia unbuttoned her coin purse. Rozalin told her to spend her allowance however she wanted, so it wasn't like she was doing anything wrong. A few silver and numerous bronze leaves and crowns were dropped into the boy's hands. He looked at the coins, dumbfounded.

"This is all I can do. Don't let anyone know you have this money, or they might target you. Keep it somewhere safe. The rest is up to your luck and effort."

Amalia looked at the two with a grim frown. It wasn't a lot of money, strictly speaking. But Amalia knew very well just how many bread loaves, how many vegetables, and how much meat it could buy. Even for two people.

The two were apparently brother and sister. Their parents passed away in another town and the boy had been in and out of work for a while. They weren't completely destitute, but the girl had still stolen from a food stall. Her brother had to cover for her.

Well, that was more or less the gist of things.

After some more conversation, thanks, and things of that nature, the two siblings took off the opposite way back toward the main road. Amalia sincerely hoped things got better for them and the two would be left alone.

She stood there a moment, trying to get her thoughts in order. She hadn't expected something like that this afternoon. With a shrug and a smile, she took off back toward the inn.

For your act of selfless altruism, +1 KARMA.

Current KARMA → +7

Amalia froze.

Another strange notification had popped up, just like all the others that started when she met Rozalin. Information exploded in her mind, but one word immediately caught her attention.

"I-I-I gotta hurry up and tell Roz!"

Just as Amalia was about to make a break for it down the alley, she quickly stopped and stumbled. Myriad thoughts caught up to her as she comedically almost toppled over.

Wait, why now? All I did was heal someone and give them some money. Why didn't either of us get KARMA for saving those people's lives from the bandits? ... Not that I was much help, but surely Rozalin should have gotten something after everything she did! That doesn't make sense! And if I already had some, why isn't it showing up on the Status list, even now? Roz said hers shows a bit more than mine, so is that it?

After some more internal debate, Amalia circled back to square one.

"Ah! G-Gotta tell Roz!"

With a scamper, she ran down the alley and began stammering to Rozalin over the Link.

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Ahem.

And so, after being rudely awoken by Amalia and dragged out of the inn, I was now standing in the middle of a back alley, having my fuzzy knight repeat herself and go over details for the third time.

I still had numerous questions and a few objections. I also lightly scolded her. Picking fights without good reason, especially when she could've been injured, was fairly high up on the list of things I told her not to do. Especially when Hendrickson or myself wasn't in the immediate vicinity. While I understand her personality is what it is and it wasn't intentional, I still needed to work those bad habits out of her.

... Or so I would normally say. But it seems those bad habits had unexpected results.

"And then you received a notification about gaining a positive KARMA point, yes?"

She nodded at me, reciting and describing the status message quite clearly for the fourth time. I was rubbing my head. The conclusions I was beginning to draw from this were ... unfavorable.

I cursed. I cursed deeply and thoroughly.

'Selfless Altruism'

Those annoying words began to taunt me.

"It's like a fucking greed sensor, isn't it? Seriously!? What kind of shitty game-system is this?"

I was well and truly boned. How was I supposed to get positive KARMA like this!? A significant part of the reason I helped all those people from the bandits was because I needed KARMA. Sure, we'd accidentally gotten caught off guard and I didn't have a lot of choice at that point, but couldn't this damn System realize I was still being kind of nice to those people by helping them out? Was a little, tiny point of reward seriously too much for all of that?!

Unlike Amalia's empty-headed naivete and niceness, I didn't have it in me to not mentally want KARMA at this point. If this system really did have some sort of greed sensor for KARMA, was it even possible for me to get any? Selfless altruism? What kind of bullshit was that? People are rarely that nice for no reason! Subconsciously and in the very least, they normally do it so they can feel better about themselves, right?

I was fuming. More testing was required. Possibly some mental reconditioning or bouts of rational amnesia. Otherwise, I could only look down and hope to acquire some negative KARMA instead. I'd initially wrote it off, but now ... well, events had shed light on acquisition conditions. After all, wasn't the opposite of 'selfless altruism' basically selfish motivations?

Hey, I had those. I could totally live with that. Probably.

Though with the number of people, animals, and monsters I'd killed, all of which I could justify in many situations, I was a bit worried that acquiring negative KARMA might be a bit more not-nice than I expected. Did I have to go shoot someone's dog and be a jerk on purpose? That was equally stupid. Excuse me for generally being pragmatic, I guess.

This was the worst. I'd been going about this entirely wrong. A ringing noise was going off in my head. What should I do next?

"Roz, what's ... what's that noise on the Link?"

Huh?

I stopped and stared at Amalia.

A strange, warbling noise was present on the Link. It sounded like a mix of static and someone squishing gelatin through a cheese grater.

Amalia's excellent observational skills struck again, "There's something happening over there! A bunch of clacking noises!"

Then, even I heard a fairly loud bang! accompanied by a small rumble. Curious, I turned toward where Amalia was pointed and started walking that way a bit. The Link's static was getting stronger. I made Amalia stand behind me and sent out a Domain before we approached any turns.

'The heck is going on?' I mentally grumbled.

After turning a business and getting a straight shot of the main road, I noticed dozens of knights flocking to one of the town wall's gates. Said gate was currently closed, likely the banging noise I'd heard earlier. An unsettling feeling was growing in my Core. That accursed noise was now beginning to irritate me as well, having turned from a barely perceptible whine into a clearly audible hum.

"Monsters at the gate!" a panting man propped against the gate yelled, "Get the Captain! Undead horde's breached the outer watch towers! They're headed straight for us!"

A series of orders was barked out and tin men began shuffling to and fro. My thoughts began to whirl around and form ideas. But worst of all, something I couldn't quite put my slime-tendril on was giving me a very, very bad feeling in the pit of my Core.