Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 60: Interlude: Henri (Patreon)

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 60: Interlude: Henri

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Commissioned by Shaderic

Wordcount: 2500

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Born to nobility and raised to rule, before the betrayal of my people, I became familiar with the sight of towns. With my mother and father, I visited many townships which fell under my family’s control, in order to take stock of the realm. While tax collectors and census takers dealt with trivial matters, my family and our guards took to the outskirts of our realm every five years, and travelled inward while visiting every village back to our home.

I remember those days, as well as the lessons my father shared with me to this day.

The outermost villages reflect the poorest of the nation, the middling ones reflect the lives of the average individual, and the finest is a reflection of the poor.

And all the villages together reflect the ruler.

My family was blessed with power, strength, and wealth, and we used it all to cultivate our lands and make it prosperous. The borders were guarded by well-equipped soldiers on horseback, working from outposts near villages which they bought they their supplies. Our inner lands were well-managed by trusted retainers and their families, so that they would bring in the harvest and materials necessary in order to ensure the wealth of our nation. Then, finally, my family kept a close eye on the machinations of the wealthy and powerful under our command, ensuring that they paid their dues, and that they could not overwhelm us.

With those traditions and beliefs, in ten generations my family forged from nothing a prosperous nation, until the day we were betrayed, broken, and left to die.

Still, I visited many places, looked upon many towns and villages in first life, before my destiny was forever decided.

I visited capital cities of the inner Empire that glittered and gleamed with magic, even as the city’s outskirts were filled with huts made of straw and mud. The nobility dined upon luxuries without care, while many starved just a league away.

Frontier fiefs ravaged by war, struggling to support their villages being disappeared overnight by kindred, looked upon us for aid as we visited their castle-capitals. However, even as they begged for aid, they continued to protect only their central, most productive regions without seeing the potential in what lay beyond.

Once, I even travelled to the northern coast, and looked upon the Empire’s sprawling, which trawled the ocean for foodstuffs, and sent out ships to keep Kindred raiders from the depths from making land. The masses pulled ships onto dock, constructed four-masted behemoths, and claimed more power than the nobility, as they joined their hands together and met with the Empire directly, ousting their rulers so they gained what they deserved.

However, they all pale when compared to the Lord of Ylstu’s lands.

Returning to it too my breath away.

Even to the eyes of the inexperienced, the city of Ylstu is unlike any order. Composed of orderly lines, streets, and zones of production, a single glance at any map allowed anyone capable of reason to navigate their way through the city. Those who could look beyond the surface would see the clear segregation between residences, commerce, and industry, and begin to unravel the mastery of municipality that his people possess, which he inherited.

The residences were tall blocky buildings with services provided within.

All “apartments” had a place to draw clean, drinking water from, as well as a communal place to eat together and gather with one’s friends. Each one also had access to magics which dealt with their waste, as in such large buildings the cost of such an amenity was greatly decreased by the number of users. Harpies arrived daily to deliver messages to the inhabitants, either through personal mail boxes attributed to an individual, or upon bulletin boards at the entrance of each apartment.

In every cluster of six or so buildings, there was a bathhouse readily available for Kindred to care for their bodies, and to promote cleanliness. Not only that, but an Amazon or Kindred charged with policing the people and investigating crime had small, always-manned outposts from which patrols were launched. Healers and herbalists were being headhunted for small buildings he called clinics, which would care for the health of his people, and every passing day more and more were arriving to Ylstu thanks to the rumors he and the visiting merchants spread.

The merchant quarters were near the entrance of the city a long road of shops, stalls, and warehouses which a caravan from afar can rent and begin to sell their wares the very same day, after their stock is reviewed by one of the many attendants. What was initially a muted series of stands was now a flourishing, vibrant stretch of land that was being expanded upon, and build upon by the coin of the merchants who wanted larger warehouses, stalls, and advertisements. The meek and weak-hearted of their number found good vocations in Ylstu’s industries, while the cunning and capable were feverishly seeking every advantage they could attain with the incredible sums of money they gained from the demand expected by Ylstu’s inhabitants.

Land was already set for another merchant district, this one next to the entertainment district that was just built, and already the merchants are building up immense sums of money to purchase stalls near where the armies of the Kindred shall rest and recuperate.

As for the industrial district… we landed near enough to it that its entirety assaulted me and drove away my memories.

It was incomparable to anything else I’d ever seen.

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“Hmph, looks like this wasn’t a waste of time.” The Lord Ylstu looked upon his works with a dour glare, as workers moved with practiced efficiency to unburden the transports. In mere minutes those who carried the transports were away in their resting area, and another batch was waiting on the transports to be emptied, checked for problems, and loaded to depart with the overflowing contents of the nearby warehouses filled with Ylstu’s domestic product. “Everything’s looking decent.”

The nearest warehouses were filled with reams and reams of Drider Silk, as well as crates filled with simple designs. The master tailors of Ylstu had their apprentices practicing as often as was permitted within their contracts, giving the province a glut of material treasured not only by the rest of the continent, but beyond as well. The contracts provided by Hachiman enticed the Driders, as it gave them time to pursue their own works and mastery, as long as they met requirements Hikigaya stipulated. Whereas most of nobility of the Kindred demanded preposterous amounts from a single Drider, he met with them in council, and gained from them a set amount that was reasonable for all Driders to provide.

Which invited so much of their kin that he had to make the streets of his industrial zone wider for their larger size.

Many Driders eyed him as he stood at the foot of a transport, their eyes measuring him for gifts of clothing, but for the chance to be with him… but their lust was displaced by a more familiar expression when he gazed upon them.

Gratitude for being allowed to practice their arts for reasonable amounts of work.

“Oi, if I hear about you lot working past your shifts again, I’m setting Ur on you all. You’re all worthless to me if you’re wrung out and dry.” He met the stares of a crowd of Driders with a glare, and they scurried away as he took a single step away. When they left his range of hearing, they began to whisper of how wonderful it would be to be bound and listen to his words. “Tch. They always run.”

The moment the small crowd of Driders escaped, his gaze turned to the Dwarves who stopped to stare.

“New blood, huh? Well, you better prove yourselves quickly, or give up quickly, so you don’t waste my time.” Dwarves were heading towards Ylstu as well. Most sought entry in the Dwarven hold he created, as they wished to be part of the first new founding of their people in centuries. However, given the position of power the Dwarves of Ylstu had, they were more than capable of demanding the best from the newest generation. Only those who spent seasons creating armor, nails, and other such things in the industrial district was considered for entry in the mountain hold. “Get to work, and prove you’re worth the investment, or go find something else to do.”

Poorly made batches of alcohol, and mistakes in creating armor would mean terrible consequences for Ylstu’s economy. Hachiman intended to grow, to keep growing, and to ceaselessly expand until he reached his limits. As his territory continued to grow prosperous, and as he acquired more funds and reinvested them, that limit was effectively his profits and his fame. Both would be in question if he sent out a vile shipment of Dwarven Liquor at high prices, and someone perished due to incompetently made armor.

The “investment” he spoke about to the Dwarves was his own recognition of their talent and his promise to back what they created with his reptation.

Thus, even though he once took the lowest bidder, he now trawled through the masses for those with excellent work ethic or peerless talent.

Which suited the Dwarves just fine, as his direct challenge aimed at them ignited flames of determination within the diminutive creatures, and they all rushed off with the intent to prove themselves to him.

“Heh, I wish everyone else was so easy.” Hachiman laughed for a second, before turn his dour gaze upon me. A faint scowl formed on his lips as his eyes wandered upon my form. The moment I straightened my form, however, he already regained control of himself. So, my current state wasn’t good enough still. I shall remember that for later. “So, how are you students? Are they worth anything yet?”

He asked for the worth of an individual, something that most Kindred would find appalling given how the Empire treated their bodies, but while the Empire saw reagents and husks filled with magic Hachiman sought true worth: skill, ability, and diligence.

“As you can see, the Tower of Magic is complete.” I gestured towards the ivory tower in which my students would be trained. It was a place for both theory and practice of magic to be explored, thus Hachiman had spared no expense in its construction. The chance of my students harming anyone, or felling the tower by accident, was effectively zero. Not only that, but our budget for acquiring reagents for potions was astounding. “Each of my students are now capable of summoning three familiars for surveillance, and they are progressing well in all their studies. They will be soon making potions and putting them to sale within Ylstu to acquire the necessary materials they need for their staffs, trinkets, and other equipment.”

“Hm? Why? I have plenty of money for that.” His only reaction to the success of my work was a single, decisive nod before he focused on the sole piece of information that he did not understand. “They might be your students, but if you’re using them to pad your paycheck, I’m going to find someone else.”

He assumed the very worst, but I waved aside his concerns with a smile.

“It is traditional for a user of magic to create their own equipment.” Meticulously, I explained the basis of the tradition I planned for my students to undergo. “It teaches them the importance of relying upon themselves, continuously improving, and the work they must expect to do in order to reach greater heights.”

Meticulously, Hachiman scowled and tore down the tradition without a shred of compassion.

“That’s stupid. They’re better off focusing on learning more magic, while everything else is taken care of. Get rid of the ones who you think might need this shitty quest, and send me how much money you need to make the better ones the best.” Hachiman scowled and looked upon the Magic Tower that dominated the skyline of his town. He had raised concerns about it being potentially attacked by magic from afar, and his distaste for it rose when I told him I needed more fellow mages to project a protective field from it against bombardment magic. “Specialize the ones who can’t be generalists. Turn them towards making potions only, or something, but make sure they can contribute towards the shield when we’ll need it.”

“As you wish, my Lord.” If the ones he gathered were not properly provided for, if they were not already afraid of losing their last, final chance, I was sure that I would cull half my class. They were tossed aside by many teachers and schools for a reason, and not all are diamonds in the rough. However, with the proper incentive, environment, and teacher… only a handful of dropouts were necessary, and I had more than enough resources at my disposal to make sure that they did not go unwasted. “They will be finished by the end of this season, and I will be ready to teach another class.”

My Lord nodded a single time at my words, and was about to speak again, before his new wife clung to his arm and the rest of his peerage arrived shortly thereafter.

Mere months ago, I faced off against him, as his powerbase was nothing more than a small village selling exotic cuisine that travelled well off the animals they raised. The only one he trusted and advised him was the Amazon, Ur, who protected him with her life.

Now, he has elevated himself to a position of power that will break the balance the continent has known for hundreds of years.

He has under his command a city ages ahead of all others, meticulously planned to continuously grow and become mighty for decades, as well as specialized, well-equipped fast-attack force never seen before with his transports and troops.

That alone would give most pause, but now he has surrounded himself and gained the trust of an Ancient Demon, a Princess, a former Hero, and the recognition of the Demon Lord in full.

Once, I believed that he could becoming a kingmaker, that his influence and power would decide who would rule the continent.

However, now, I was sure that he might very well take the continent for himself if no one stopped him.

And, of course, if did not destroy whoever wished to do such a thing.