The dawn crept cautiously over the hills, painting the medieval landscape in muted golds and purples, as if the world itself were still uncertain about the arrival of its newest and most improbable savior. Keran Thalwyn, now fully awake and considerably muddier than he had ever been in his life, stood atop a slight rise overlooking the village that had greeted him. He surveyed the scene with the careful curiosity of a scientist and the naive awe of a man who had only just learned that banana peels could lead to divine promotion.
Villagers had begun their day with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. Mothers tugged at the sleeves of their children, whispering prayers under their breath, while blacksmiths wiped soot from their hands, peering toward the mysterious SSS+ hero who now commanded, at least by implication, their attention and possibly their obedience. Merchants rearranged their wares, hastily affixing signs that read "Recommended by the SSS+ Hero!" in hopes of avoiding the wrath—or ineffable disappointment—of someone they barely understood.
Keran's first thought, naturally, was to assess the situation logically. A new world. Slightly magical. Villagers with primitive technology. I can modernize this. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the lingering mud beneath his fingernails, and attempted to reconcile the absurdity of his status with the practicalities of the environment.
"Right," he muttered aloud, startling a chicken, which clucked indignantly before hopping into a puddle. "Step one: understand the inhabitants. Step two: observe their resources. Step three: invent… everything."
The villagers, sensing an impending declaration of wisdom—or disaster—gathered, forming a semi-circle around him. Among them was the mayor, a rotund man with spectacles perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, and a carpenter whose hands were permanently stained with wood and sap. The mayor stepped forward, bowing deeply.
"Sir… Hero," he said, his voice trembling with a combination of respect and uncertainty, "we are honored by your presence. Your arrival… it has… changed everything."
Keran blinked, blinking again to ensure he was awake and not experiencing a lingering hallucination induced by mud and celestial interference. "Changed everything?" he echoed, trying to sound authoritative. "How exactly?"
The carpenter, emboldened by the mayor's hesitation, spoke up. "Well… the fields are growing faster. The animals are… calmer. And the river… it seems… cleaner."
Keran furrowed his brow. "Faster growth? Calmer animals? Cleaner water? Interesting. Are these… magical effects or environmental coincidences?"
The mayor hesitated, glancing toward the sky as if expecting divine guidance. "We… we do not know. Perhaps the SSS+ energy? Some say your presence alone brings change."
Keran inhaled deeply. SSS+ energy. Right. That explains nothing, and yet explains everything. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, already considering the implications. If his very existence radiated some inexplicable power capable of altering the mundane, then his potential to modernize this world was exponential.
As he pondered, a sudden commotion arose from the edge of the village. A young boy, no more than ten, ran toward him, clutching a bundle of parchment with crude sketches of machinery and abstract diagrams. "Hero!" the boy shouted breathlessly. "Look! Look what I drew! I can make… I can make things… like your power!"
Keran knelt, taking the parchment and examining it closely. The sketches were rudimentary—gears that did not quite align, pulleys that would never hold under weight, and a few crude depictions of what might have been intended as "flying machines." Yet, in their naïve chaos, he saw the seed of potential.
"This," Keran said slowly, pointing to one particularly ambitious sketch, "is good. Very good. But it needs… logic, material science, and a proper source of energy. Do you know anything about mana?"
The boy shook his head. "Only that the priests say it is… holy and dangerous. But I saw a glowing fish in the river yesterday. Maybe it's mana?"
Keran's eyes lit up. Mana fish. That's… absurdly brilliant. He could see already how the natural resources of this world—if paired with even basic mechanical principles—could revolutionize daily life. Lamps that never went out, water mills powered not just by streams but by enchanted currents, even rudimentary machines to ease the burden of labor. The possibilities were intoxicating.
He stood abruptly, ignoring the mud squelching beneath his boots. "Listen, everyone! I am here not just as a hero but as… a facilitator of progress. I will show you inventions. I will teach you ways to improve your lives, and yes, perhaps I will create some… extraordinary things that will seem impossible—but they will work."
Murmurs of excitement swept through the crowd. Keran could feel it: the spark of curiosity, the stirrings of ambition. People wanted to believe, and belief was a powerful force indeed.
He decided to start small. The first invention he chose was deceptively simple: soap. Hygiene was neglected in these villages, and disease often followed unwashed hands and contaminated water. Keran gathered the villagers, mixing fats, lye, and a hint of magical mana—imparted by his mysterious SSS+ aura—to create a substance that, when used, not only cleaned but imparted a subtle glow to the skin, signaling purity and health.
"Observe!" Keran announced, holding up a bar. He smeared it across his mud-streaked hands. Instantly, the dirt lifted as if repelled by some invisible force, leaving his skin faintly luminescent. The villagers gasped.
A blacksmith tentatively tried the soap on his grimy hands. When he saw the gleam, he whispered, almost reverently, "It's… magic."
Keran smiled. No, it's science… with a touch of absurdity.
Encouraged by the success, he turned his attention to food. The villagers subsisted largely on gruel and unseasoned bread. Keran's mind, ever restless, concocted the idea of enchanted pizza—a fusion of his own memories of home and the magic of this world. Using mana-infused flour and a heating spell, he created flatbreads topped with cheeses, vegetables, and herbs that shimmered faintly. The first bite elicited tears of joy from an old woman who had not tasted true flavor in decades.
They are ready for more, Keran thought. Ready for the ridiculous, the miraculous, and the modern.
Yet, as he reveled in these triumphs, he was not blind to the challenges. Nobles would be wary, priests suspicious, and some villagers might reject progress outright. But for the first time, standing among the awe-struck villagers, Keran felt the intoxicating thrill of influence—the power to reshape the world, however improbable or absurd the means might be.
And far above, the gods observed with a mixture of panic and fascination. One muttered, "He's… improving everything. How is this… allowed?"
Another sighed. "We must intervene… eventually. But he is… entertaining."
Keran, oblivious to the divine debate above, continued his work. With the villagers as assistants, he began constructing a simple water mill enhanced with magical mana currents. The mill's blades spun faster than normal, grinding grain efficiently and distributing flour with minimal human effort. The combination of ingenuity and magic made it seem impossible—and yet it worked.
By the time the sun reached its zenith, the village had undergone a subtle transformation: cleaner streets, happier children, and a sense of hope that bordered on the ludicrously miraculous. Keran, standing atop the gentle rise once more, surveyed the scene with pride tempered by caution.
"This is only the beginning," he said aloud, addressing no one in particular. "Soap, food, water… and soon… much more. The world will change. Whether it is ready or not… it will change."
A tabby cat, the same that had caused his demise back on Earth, sauntered up, tail flicking with disdain. It leapt onto a stone wall, regarding him with the air of a critic who had seen far too many failures. Keran smiled faintly, scratching behind its ears. "Even you approve," he whispered. "Good. Then we are on the right path."
As twilight descended, painting the village in hues of deep orange and violet, Keran knew that tomorrow would bring new challenges, new inventions, and new absurdities. But for now, the SSS+ hero—accidental, improbable, and utterly unprepared—had taken the first steps toward modernizing a medieval world, one laughable, miraculous innovation at a time.