Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 78 (Patreon)

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 78

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Commissioned by Shaderic

Wordcount: 2500

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The reason why I decided to revolutionize air-travel in this world was because I hated traveling in this world more than I did back on Earth.

The roads were mostly dirt, the carriages rattled and hurt the back, and horseback riding was tiring as hell. Not only that, but because Kindred were blessed with superior bodies, their countries didn’t invest very much into infrastructure. When the lowest, common denominator of the society can climb a tree and get their bearings with ease even when the road got washed away, then there’s no need at all to invest in clearing the road out quickly.

What I’m getting at was basically the fact that in order to get to the Chimera, I needed to trudge through a lot of jungle.

The Lua’Kona were a big help in dealing with other dangers. They had a lot of trinkets and little things that their men wore to keep them from getting sick and unable to fuck. I received a necklace that kept my clothes and body dry, so I wouldn’t have to worry about anything wrinkling up and rotting. There was also a charm that I wore one my wrist that repelled insects and the like.

Both were pretty much priceless when traversing through the mud, muck, and humidity of a tropical jungle, but they went above and beyond.

Not only did they provide me with those particular essentials, they also gave me a copy of their map of the region, a guide, and plenty of supplies that wouldn’t rot away in the climate. Then, they asked for my boots, and instead of doing strange things to it, they modified it for the sake of traversing the jungle better. More traction with some ridges at the bottom, better water-proofing just in case I needed to wade through a river, and a little something that made it just that much easier to walk.

As far I was concerned, they were the best allies I’d ever had.

Calling in air-support from Dragons is cool, but I personally liked getting properly equipped and geared up for my mission more.

Anyway, as far as infrastructure went in the region… there was no infrastructure. Between three natural disasters looking to take everything they could, the locals decided to look poor, disheveled, and hide away their wealth from prying eyes. Roads between villages and outside would’ve been watched and patrolled, so they stuck to traversing in small groups with guides and good maps. The villages sometimes even relocated, if they got too much attention, so there was never any chance my little mission was going to involve staying overnight at another village and enjoying a hot meal.

It was going to be trekking through the jungle, maybe flying for short periods during the dark when we were sure the Chimera wouldn’t be looking towards the sky, and sleeping in a bug-infested, unfriendly environment.

Fun.

…

The coordinated attack was going to take place in three days, and though that was well-within the abilities of Kindred, an abducted highschool boy wouldn’t have been able to handle it. In fact, a very traumatized military commander wouldn’t have been able to manage it either, since he would’ve been too underfed as a slave on the front.

As I currently was, I was working up a sweat on the march, even after a few months of being able to exercise and eat in peace.

The region was a tropical canopy for me before I started the march. Tropical trees, streams, and lots of winding undergrowth that led to white beaches. On the march itself, it was a hellish affair. Between multiple crossings of streams, dense networks of roots, and incredibly muddy terrain, we lost a lot of time. Time that we recovered by having me swallowing my pride and being carried.

I cursed the fact that, while the Chimera was a moron who decided to consolidate territory and not look into what took down her competitors, she was wary enough of the skies that we had to restrict ourselves from flight.

Anyway, getting princess carried beneath a bouncing, gray mountain tops, barely held or concealed by straps, was a blow to my pride and my sensibilities, but it was a blow I was willing to take for the sake of a successful mission. In fact, I was more worried about Ashe not being able to do her duty. If she got tired from carrying my ass over the course of three days, then the mission was a failure before it even started.

But as we broke for camp for the first day, I found myself feeling stupid for worrying.

The Hellhound put me down and turned to me with a beaming smile.

“Is there anything else I should be of doing, Hachiman? Would you like me to be of more helping?” The various other Kindred involved in the crossing were looking at her with envy, as she loomed over me, yet practically acted like an excited puppy eager to please. “Are you needing of anything to fetch? I am capable of bringing it quickly!”

As tempted as I was to ask her to get me a stick, I decided against it.

“No. Get some rest, Ashe. You’ve carried me the entire day.” I meant well with my words, since I wanted her in tip-top shape, but the moment the words left my mouth her ears flattened and her smile faded. Hellhounds were supposedly impossible to tame, yet here I was dealing with one that practically wanted orders even after getting sweaty from carrying an adult male for nearly eight hours straight. “Alright, fine. Start setting up fires like I showed you for everyone. The underground ones.”

“Yes, Hachiman!”

In regards to why Ashe was calling me Hachiman, it was because I couldn’t stand being called Chieftain for days. I could manage back in Ylstu because I didn’t have to talk to anyone for prolonged periods of time, but if I was going to be carried around while I wasted several gifts given to me by me by a poor tribe that could’ve spent it on something more important, I at least didn’t want to be called by a title of authority.

Surprisingly, my arrogance did have limits, even though I decided that the Japanese way of life was better for everyone and that every else’s way of living was wrong.

Forcing an entire society to change, so that I can enjoy my life was acceptable.

Being called “boss,” or another similar tittle, was out of the questions.

I took to handling the tent with the help of the Harpies who came along.

They were prototypes I commissioned from Driders, since we had a surplus of their silk.

While I’d considered crushing the textile market on the continent, I wasn’t in the mood to start breaking up any monopolies, especially when I was barely about to get my own. Though I could start reigning them in and beat them up with sheer money, they had contacts with influence, and Roseanne was expending her, so I figured I’d do her a favor and not have her get ulcers from me picking a fight with several guilds. I was better off biding my time, pretending I had less Drider Silk at my disposal, and continue selling them at a premium while finding something to do with the surplus I couldn’t pump into the market.

Anyway, the basic idea was to make something that could house the Kindred armies, as they marched into Empire territory.

Typically, Kindred units were called to arms, given rations and pay, and left to handle everything else for themselves. More like a swarm of super-soldiers with specialized cadres, they weren’t suited for long, drawn-out campaigns or sieges. That was why the Empire handled them by fortifying, taking back land, and putting a lot of people between themselves and the Kindred between every war.

If you took a look at every war between the Kindred and the Empire, the Kindred usually stopped before they reached the dams, and in this coming fight they were going to enter new territory.

Territory that I wanted them prepared for, so since I was already setting up a supply chain, I figured why not make some cash by selling tents and other supplies, too?

The Drider Silk Tent was honestly amazing. The qualities that made Drider Silk wanted for dresses was that it kept its wearer either cool or warm, and naturally deterred most insects. A ream or two of it held down by some rocks and propped up by a few sticks was honestly a good enough survival shelter, and offering them out as sleeping bags was my first thought.  However, I had to contend with the issue that there was no “one-size-fits-all” size for Kindred, so I had to settle on tents that could be extended, raised up, and could be connected.

I had Driders, Goblins, Witches, and Dwarves back in Ylstu, so after clearing a few ideas with Roseanne’s scholars they got to work on making tents that used telescoping rods.

What I got was a large, bulky cylinder that had a top where more rods could be screwed in to make different-sized roofs. The Dwarves couldn’t manage uniform sizes of sheet metal that perfectly fit into one another, let alone ones that bent, folded, or did other nonsense, but the prototype achieved everything I asked for, and a harpy could easily carry the rods, the foundational pillar, and the silk while flying and still be able to carry more.

I considered it a success the moment I looked at it, but as white, tepee-like tents rose up and we made a camp in less than an hour, I couldn’t help but smile.

I was going to make so much damn money when Roseanne went to war that it’s not even funny.

…

Ashe drooled as she stared at the cauldron, and though the other Kindred stayed back and tried to look cool, they also shot glances my way every now and again.

The reason why was because of the newest rations I’d thought up.

“Is it ready yet, Hachiman? It is of smelling incredible!” It was the natural evolution of my older ideas and more than a few modern facts that I could put to use. Feeding an army of Kindred was not easy. They were monsters and they consumed a lot of food, and cities of Kindred only formed when there was enough magic to make stupid amounts of high-caloric meals for everyone. Farming, foraging, and keeping herds was only enough for small villages. So, in anticipation of the campaign, I scaled things up. “It is looking much better than jerky and grain bars!”

“That’s because it is.” My answer was bars of spice, cubes of bouillon, and cured fat. A lot of cured fat. The pigs in Ylstu contributed hams and other such things, but their fat was the most important, since it kept, could be rendered, and then added into massive pots to up the calorie content astronomically. Beans, hardtack, cured meats were also involved, and I even played around with jars, but until I figured out how to make sheet metal and cans… the only way to feed the Kindred on a warpath was large bubbling pots of fatty, spiced stew with whatever the Kindred could find and add to it via foraging or raiding. “Here. Eat and get to sleep. You’re needed for tomorrow.”

“I am of immense gratitude, Hachiman!” The ladle was heavy and the soup was more like a sauce as I plopped it on her bowl. I had the help of a Harpy in stirring, so that the bottom didn’t burn, but it was easy enough to control the underground fire by restricting the air it received, so she was present just to ensure my troops didn’t get a bad batch of food. Anyway, the stirring made sure that every ingredient was lathered in the sauce and there wasn’t a single piece of rehydrated beans or meat not covered in enough “soup” to make anything tasty. “Thank you for the meal!”

Once everyone was served, I gave myself a small bowl of the stuff, but watered down and stirred up. Even then the flavors were just on the verge of being too spicy, salty, and overwhelming with every bite, as well as almost being too rich. It was something that I could see myself hating, especially if I attributed its taste before every battle, but the food wasn’t for me… it was for the Kindred and all the others going on to march against the Empire.

“So delicious!”

“What an amazing meal!”

“I’m already full!”

“I know! I had only one bowl, but I feel like I had a feast!”

The Kindred honestly couldn’t survive off of just bread and rice. They were all predators that needed large amounts of protein and fat. In fact, I was sure that most, small farming villages would die out if they weren’t extracted “mana” from their males. It was just a theory for me initially, but when Tanis confirmed that more and more Kindred were growing larger and “evolving” in Ylstu as they began to enjoy plenty of high-calorie foods, my suspicions were all but verified.

At first it started with less and less stares being sent my way in Ylstu as I began improving it.

Initially, when we were just starting out, the new citizens could barely be stopped by Ur and the others. However, as time passed and I started improving their lives more, giving them less work, and getting more and more food available to them all, the stares, the longing, and the lust started fading.

“Ah… Hachiman… can I please have some more?” Ashe asked and without a second thought, I l handed her my bowl and moved start cooking a little more. “Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.” The looks of gratefulness sent my way lacked any lust. My troops were honestly, simple grateful. “I’ll start another batch.”

A light cheer came from my little group, and they all began to chat about missing home, wondering what their friends were doing, and what they were going to do with their pay.

Not a single word about fucking or being fucked left their mouths.

I already knew it, but seeing it happen reinforced my thoughts further.

The Kindred relied on men so much because they were essential to survival, to living well, and to becoming more than what they were.

But the same could be achieved by creating better living conditions that suited them.

They weren’t human, they couldn’t even be human if they tried, so I wasn’t going to try and make them human.

Instead, I was going to make them the best they could be, and see what I needed to do from there.