Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 15 (Patreon)

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 15

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Shaderic.

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A battle avoided is a battle won. If one doesn’t have to expend the time, resources, and manpower in fighting, then all those things can be expended in actual, useful projects that benefit the rest of society. Yes, without a semblance of a doubt, I am currently conducting a public service and must carefully husband my resources by avoiding as many battles as possible. The Empire won’t collapse and kill itself. If I’m not careful, it’s entirely possible that I’ll I won’t finish my job, which’ll benefit anyone who’ll survive afterward for centuries to come. For the sake of all the people of the world, that aren’t in or affiliated with the Empire, I must utilize my resources properly and utilize them with utmost care.

So, that’s why I made explosives. 

The inherent value of going boom aside, explosives gave me openings, tactics, and opportunities that magic did not. While magic did have bigger booms, it required line of sight, extremely skilled labor, and genetic predisposition. The Empire and Roseanne can manage that sort of shit because one abducts people with potential from other dimensions and the others are monsters that happen to already have innate magic, as well as sexy bodies and want to fuck. Therefore, I’ll never have magic, because I’ll never stoop as low as the Empire, lack talent for anything besides the basics, and it doesn’t seem as though I’m inclined to want another dude’s dick more than mine. 

Did Alps get magic right away, anyway? I mean, I’m not looking to become part of TS doujinshi, but magic’s magic... 

Moving back to explosives.

Their obviously, stupidly sexual origins in nature aside, the mana potions that gave tantric energy to Mamono was hilariously stable. It was basically oil and everything else added into it was water. If it only worked like as a pure liquid in a glass vial, then all I’d be able to do with it is throw it at the enemy. However, when I can add fuses, other substances, and solids into it, as long as they were mundane in nature? Then, I had had something the even my tiny village could produce in decent quantities. And, by decent, I naturally meant in quantities that could supply me with all that I could need/carry on me at any time, as well as to safely develop.

So, in short, while Reiser was out training and gather her troops, I was figuring out how to replicate dynamite. As the Elves were once against stealing both honor and stuff that they couldn’t make themselves, I was finding out the minimum requirement for mana potions to explode. As this camp was being made, I began inquiring for phosphorous and tar, which were mundane elements, and planned to see what I could do with it after I mixed them up. 

Naturally, after I found out the minimum requirement for the explosive effect to take place, I looked for mechanisms to use it. Unfortunately, I hit a dead end in that relatively fast. It’s one thing to throw different weights at a puddle, as well as seeing how large certain puddles exploded, and making mechanisms. The simplest I could manage was a just a simple, oil fuse, since fire set off the mana potion just as easily. Then, I started playing with springs that I had the Amazons easily bend into being from a few scraps. The springs were held back by a pin, which upon release, would send a shard through the glass and make the vial explode… in my hand right after I pulled the pin. 

Yeah, it was fuck up of massive proportions that I only realized after making a dozen of the things. 

From that failure, as well as my inability to undo the tension without fucking myself up, I decided to just make them primers for canteens of mana potions. The idea was to make a simple, sturdy explosive I could strap to a tree, then pull the cord from a safe distance. Or, maybe, have the harpies drop if I could get long enough strings. However, before that, I needed to test the satchel first. In fact, I’d planned on testing one out today to see how they’d do against a tree, since it was possible that I’d just invented a better way to stage an ambush

But instead I tested it against an Elf in a camp filled with Empire soldiers, thus creating a crater in the middle of an Empire camp, and getting me thrown out of a Yandere’s grip.

As far as I was concerned, there was no need for anymore trials regarding the Mana Satchels. 

I was going to make a thousand of the suckers.

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Of course, I wasn’t uninjured by the blast. My initial plan was to pull the silk rope from behind cover. The radius of the explosive, which also sent magical flames everywhere it touched, was around thirty meters and my thread with fifty meters. It was relatively safe, especially since the glass of the primer disintegrated under such pressure and the rest of the container was just a modified water pouch surrounded by cotton inside a sturdy satchel. Even with the relative lack of shrapnel, I wouldn’t have carried out my experience without a tree or something else sturdier to hide behind. 

And, that had been a good idea, since the explosion devastated the camp and sent me flying. My ears rang, the taste of iron was on my lips, and my shoulder was definitely dislocated. There were tiny, little stinging sensations all over me, probably from cuts due to my lack of armor, but that didn’t matter. None of the injuries mattered, because I could still stand and move, while the rest of the camp was in chaos.

The tents nearest to the explosion were aflame and burning in the wind. They surrounded a small crater filled with bits and pieces of those nearby, while parts of people fell from the sky. The scent of burning flesh was thick in the air, as everyone in the camp reeled from the explosive sound, though plenty of Empire and Elves screamed and ran about like headless chickens spouting nonsense. Fear ran rampant amongst them, because the protections they thought that they had were suddenly ineffective. Soldiers they might be, but when your home base is compromised all you can do is flee or fight, and that choice was interfering with everyone’s mind at the same time. 

“We’ve been found by mages! Begin dismantling the camp! Those on repaid response move out to find the mages, while medics go attend to those who’ll survive the journey with us!”  Reiser’s voice resounded over the din of screaming horses, calls for help, and the crackling of flame. Ensuring the chain of command stayed strong during the entire battle was a lesson she’d learned very well, which was going to give me the chance to escape. Not a very good chance, but still a chance. “Find the prisoner! Secure him before we leave! He must not get away!”

I considered hiding, but my only options were barrels or corpses, and Reiser would know to have both those things searched. If I had some sort of incredibly sharp weapon from a more civilized age, I could definitely cut open one of the dead horses and snuggle in, but that route was unfortunately closed to me. Thus, the only options at my disposal were to move or die. The Elves were fucked, the horses were confused and wouldn’t comply with their riders, and the archers were going to be on the lookout for mages that could follow up on the attack.

So, I moved through the chaos after discarding my jacket, grabbing some mud, and seizing torn canvas. As I ran out, I took everything I could get my hands on in order to have some form of camouflage. My physical abilities alone weren’t going to cut it. I could barely summon a flame in my hand, let alone reinforce and strengthen my body. Hedging my bets with mud, a piece of cloth, and anything else I could slap on was the best I could do, while getting as much obstacles and distance between me and the camp as possible. 

I gave it ten minutes at most before I was found. 

And, if I did my counting right while the Elves were traveling, their journey towards Reiser’s camp was around twenty minutes with their ridiculous, tree-hopping technique. Ur would’ve followed them, but they didn’t have horseback, but they did have a Hellhound who had a keen sense of smell. And, even without horses, they were just barely slower than the Elves. The only problem would be if they’d encountered supplemental attacks to finish them off after the ambush failed. Reiser was smart enough to make sure, after all.  Not only would Ur and the Amazons be slowed down, but it was also possible that my scent trail would fade away due to the winds surrounding the trees.

Since escaping on my own was impossible, my plan was hedging entirely on the fact that my guards would find me, after I detonated an explosive in the enemy camp. 

Unfortunately, that plan and my estimates was ruined as an arrow sprouted from my shoulder and impaled me to a tree trunk. My initial instinct was to break the end, keep what was in in, and leave, but a body soon slammed into me.

“Damn you, damn you, damn you!” It was obviously Grimm, but how’d the Elf survive the explosive, especially when she’d carried it around? More importantly, the radius of the explosive meant that even if she’d handed it off, it should’ve killed her without a fucking word. “You killed him! You killed the princess! You killed everyone I loved! Damn you, damn the alliance, and damn nobility! I… I will make you suffer, Hikigaya Hachiman!”

And, with just those words and as the arrow in my back was forcibly pulled out so I could be thrown on the floor, I received my answer. 

Grimm turned into a monster.

Not because of love.

But because of complete, utter despair.

The pale, porcelain skin was gone and replaced with a shade of gray. Cool, blue eyes were now scarlet. Golden locks were replaced by a gleaming, silvery white. Contempt was now hate, while dignity was replaced by agony. I’d killed her princess, her friends, and presumably some fucking faceless knight who she wanted to fuck her into the ground. Thus, her clothes were nothing more than burnt, blackened scraps on unmarred skin as she stood over me with arrow in hand and bow in the other. 

Hilarious. 

“Laughter… laughter… laughter!? That’s your answer to the tortures I’ll visit upon you until you beg for death!” Yeah, I really shouldn’t be laughing. Right now, I was in more danger than I’d ever been. However, who couldn’t help but laugh at the fucked-up joke that just happened? My derision, actions, and plan to escape was utterly ruined because I’d failed to consider I could ever cause enough mental trauma to save someone’s life. I’d literally given her enough mental trauma to transform and seek revenge AFTER she got blown to pieces. “Vermin such as you don’t deserve sympathy nor sorrow.”

For fuck’s sake, can’t something go right for me today?

Well, at the very least, I was going out knowing I’d killed an Elven princess.

And, since torture didn’t sound good…

“Me? You did all the work. I never knew elves liked their monarchs extra crispy.” I lied. I smiled and I lied without a shred of remorse and hesitation. The moment Grimm’s eyes widened, I knew I had her, since rage was making logic far too difficult for her already. I needed to pour gasoline on it, make sure the fire burned bright, so that I’d get a quick death. I might be spent and fucked over, but at the very least I was going to go out the way I wanted: belittling the fuck out of my opponent and making sure they didn’t get what they damn wanted. “Good job. I was too cowardly to pull that string, but you just did all the hard work for me, Grimm. What a great, royal knight you are.”

A foot collided with my stomach, practically pressing my innards against the forest floor, and filling my gaze with red while bile crept up my throat. The adrenaline was slowly fading and the real pain, instead of just the aches and dull sensations, was beginning to settle it. It was still nothing compared to the collars, but it was still clouding the edges of my mind. 

“Don’t you dare speak my name or even refer to the princess!” Grimm roared and nocked the arrow still covered in my blood. I felt my hopes rise, but it must have shown in my face that I was egging her to kill me. The rage on the Dark Elf’s face faded immediately, while a sneering smile formed on her face. Fucking monster instincts. Literally. “Oh, I see now. You wish to die. You want me to move as you’ve made me move before.” The bow was lowered, so the arrow was no longer pointed at my skull, but instead my leg. She let loose and just like that my right leg was pinned to the forest floor. That I felt immediately and barely managed to keep myself from screaming. “Death is too good for you. You need to suffer. Not only by my hands… but by the hands of your own flesh!”

And, there’s the fucked-up doujinshi logic that I’d hoped was overcome by complete, utter hate, especially since I’d apparently killed someone she fancied. 

“Your life will be of pain and my pleasure forever. I won’t let you die. Forever and ever, you’ll suffer under my hands and that of your daughters. You’ll repay me for every life you’ve taken from me a thousand-fold… and after that I’ll make you suffer for merely my own amusement.” What was my out here? Biting off my own tongue? Yeah, that was one way out, but the foot on my stomach, the wounds on my arm and leg, and my concussion were making it difficult to look forward and pay attention, let alone muster the will to kill myself. The day will never come when I’ll endure whatever the fuck was going on in her head. It might be someone’s fucking fetish, and I might have fucking triggered it somehow, but there was not a chance in hell I was going to let it come to pass to me. “Your life will be of suffering now and forever, even if I need to make you live forever with my own, damn hands!”

She reached down for the arrow in my leg with a wicked smile.

“We shall begin by seeing your useless, worthless limbs fed to pigs!”

And, with that she pulled the arrow up, until the soil-covered head was in my thigh, and began to wrench. 

That’s when I couldn’t hold out anymore and screamed. 

A heartbeat later and the wrenching stopped… and Grimm stared at the blade pocking out of her stomach.

In a fair story, after I’d suffered all of that, I’d see Ur standing dramatically in the sunlight as she and the others arrived on time to rescue me. 

But it wasn’t.

Instead Reiser cast a shadow on me, with a bloodied sword in hand, as she mercilessly ripped the Dark Elf off me and systemically tore her apart piece by piece with great, cleaving strikes until only a mound of meat and crushed bone was left. Thereafter, she picked me up and took me to the regathered camp with a smile on her lips, a song in her heart, and promises to nurse me back to help on her lips. Naturally, only after gagging me and binding me, to make sure I could do nothing more to myself or others.

Thus, my last and only hope for rescue was a jacket that I’d discarded and the trail of blood I’d left behind. 

Now, I can only rely upon my subordinates.

Man, I’m utterly fucked, aren’t I?