Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 53: Interlude: Tanis

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero 53: Interlude: Tanis

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

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Never did I think my hands would tremble at the sight of numbers alone, yet here I was in a dark cavern struggling to read a report under torchlight.

“A-are you completely sure that this is correct?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am. We checked thrice to make sure.” It was simply supposed to be a quarterly check. Hachiman desired to see the progress of Ylstu’s growth over the last few months, as well as take proper stock of his assets, debts, and surplus currency. We’d received additional clerks for the interim to handle our tasks, while we were away, in order to achieve our goal of making the quarterly report. “The only ones involved in this are those of Ylstu, as well, so there’s no amateur mistake to be mistake. We… we are completely sure that everything is correct.”

I’d ventured to the halls of the Dwarves to thank them for their gifts towards us, as they were appreciative of the swift reports and financial aid that they were given for all their projects. They’d provided us administrators and clerks with more alcohol than we could all drink in our collective lifetimes. Some of us were sending it abroad, or giving it away to our friends outside our department, but the pile seems unending due to their generosity, to the point where I wished to tell them to stop.

However, before I could even speak to their leader, I find myself sitting on my own tail and having to calm myself down, while Gertrude, one of the newest of Ylstu’s clerks, looked upon me with understanding.

“W-we believed there was one mistake or another, but it just isn’t the case. The amounts spent, used, and acquired are all true.”  Much like all the other clerks, she wore a white blouse and black skirt, but she is of the Lizard tribe, so her arms and legs were scaled and clawed, making a shorter skirt that permitted a tail, and a lack of sleeves. She had a mane of red hair that reached her waist and wore slim spectacles. From time to time, her forked tongue slipped past her lips. Many of the Harpies would’ve feared her, if not for the fact that they were used to me. “Lady Tanis… more gold is spent and used in Ylstu in a single season than an entire year in for our three, neighboring provinces!”

“We already knew this. It’s… it’s simply due to this report compounding all this information that we can see it all easier.” I took a moment to breath and think on the matter logically. The very report that’s making me so flustered is gathered from the reports we’ve made every month, from which we derived from our weekly reports, which come from our daily compilations. If its accuracy is checked in triplicate, then it is merely what we have seen every day for several months compiled into thirty pages. “All we are seeing is the results of Ylstu over the course of an entire season.”

No.

That’s inaccurate.

What I am seeing is the results of Hikigaya Hachiman’s work and knowledge over the course of several months. The report I now hold in my hands, the records we’ve kept, lacking the first weeks of him laying down the foundation of Ylstu. Wait. It isn’t lacking the first weeks. The debt he owes, which used to be something I feared, is not only evidence of that foundation, but also an asset in and of itself.

He had told me himself:

“That debt makes sure we’ll get our asses saved, so make sure we’re making payments on time.”

I hadn’t understood then, but after speaking to Henri many times regarding politics, and the information I now looked upon… I knew what he meant. 

Hachiman has made in a single year a confederation built off of money and security. Instead of bindings of blood, noble birthright, or immense power, he has indebted himself to others, so that they must keep him safe for a piece of the prosperity he is building. They want the wealth they are owed, as well as the interest offered atop of that, so that they can use it for themselves… and if do such a thing, they will have no choice but continue to invest in him, because they won’t be building and creating on their own!

Some might say that he is making himself a servant, instead of a leader of a region, but a servant of single landed noble afar from war and strife leads a life of luxury. 

Then, what of a servant that serves an entire nation, providing them with luxuries and necessities both?

I had to laugh at the notion, whilst a shiver coursed through my entire body.

“So, this is what true lack of honor and pride means. He has bowed his head, and sold himself to servitude in the eyes of all, but in his shadow is wealth unending.” I handed back the report to my subordinate, even as she looked upon me with surprise. I smoothed surface of my clothes. I’d fretted about wearing them, as they were made by Driders and bought for me to befit my station. I could never afford it on my own, and a clerk of a small, budding region shouldn’t wear such things, but now I understood. My clothes reflect Hachiman’s true status. I am not merely a clerk, but an administrator of funds and power for a budding faction. That is why I and my subordinates have been receiving so much from those with far keener senses. “Well, then, I shall have to speak to Henri about instructing us all in regards to how to speak to nobility. The amount of power we have been entrusted with is far greater than I imagined.”

I knew the results of those words before I uttered them, so I paid my new subordinate no heed as she blushed and sighed with deep satisfaction at her newfound knowledge. 

Such is the case for all those who works for Hachiman and aren’t wed, after all. 

…

Henri blinked many times beneath the brim of a very large hat, and as she looked at me from over the latest tome she was making. Her room within the manse was magically enlarged, and it was stocked to the brim with tome after tome, courtesy of Hachiman’s generous funding of her arcane pursuits. The Lich’s Library was already being whispered about by all the Merchants, who scoured the entire continent for arcane books at Hachiman’s behest, so it won’t be long before it is looked upon with envy by all mages save for those under Lady Roseanne’s employ.

Because those mages are happily purchasing the copies made in Ylstu. 

“A class on dealing with nobility? But… are you all not already overprepared by our Lord?” Henri frowned and leaned back on her chair. Without Hachiman’s constant presence within the manse, and griping about her nudity, she wore nothing besides her hat and a frown in my presence. While I was unconcerned about my friend’s traits, the servants and her own students are all either wondering aloud if becoming a lich made one more blessed in body… or praying that Hachiman return quickly to end Henri’s incessant flaunting. “You are clerks. Armed to mercilessly with clear minds, uniforms, and the truth, with every single one of your words backed by his authority and martial might. There’s no court in the Kindred and even the Empire that would not tremble in your presence.”

My confusion must have shown on my face quite well, as my friend shook her head, and in doing so her free bosom, and explained herself. 

“All of nobility are bound by responsibility to the crown and their people. Therefore, you are their natural foes, as recordkeepers and truthsayers backed by greater power. Your lack of training in matters of the court is purposeful, as to ensure none of you become enamored with such a life.” Henri stood and crossed her arms. Not over, but under, as to flaunt her bodyline splendidly and took long steps until she found a certain tome. She gestured towards it and flew towards me. It had no title and upon opening it, I found it to merely be a journal. “That is Lady Bailliere’s personal journal. It should be of some help to you—

I nearly let the book drop to the ground, as I found myself unworthy of touching it. 

“L-Lady Balliere!? She’s… she’s the woman who founded my school! Why is this treasure here!?” The journal must be nearly two hundred years old, yet in my hands it felt cool to the touch, and its spine was unmarred by any crease. Though it had the musty smell all old books had, its pages somehow still felt crisp to the touch, and the written entries within were neat and unmarred by any stain that my eyes could see. “How did you get your hands on this!?”

“Courtesy of the Balliere household themselves, of course. They looked upon the education system and the administration system by scrying for a few weeks, and proceeded to inform me while sending that along. It’s the original copy, but they have already received a new copy.” Of course, such a vaunted family of Kindred wouldn’t hesitate to use their resources to investigate Ylstu, especially one as academically proficient as the Ballieres! The value knowledge above all else, so of course they cared not whether they had to original copy, only that they received one that was perfectly identical to the first. “It’s not very useful for me, but it can be of use to you now that you’ll be dealing with nobility. Lady Balliere, from what I have heard and read of her, brought a logic to the system of governance of the Kindred that was once lost.”

The ebb and flow of both time and conflict can be excessively unkind to all civilizations. The Kindred and Empire, according to A’Bel, have entered ages of strife and advancement multiple times. Sometimes we fell farther than expected, from the loftiest heights, but time heals all wounds and pushes all onward. If not for the Balliere family, my station would not exist, as once upon a time the Kindred were pushed so far that only war and maintaining basic sustenance was the focus of society, not recordkeeping and ensuring that all is proper and right.  

“I will read this thoroughly and make sure to make not a single mark upon it, then I will share its message to my entire staff.” We hold more power than expected, therefore we must change in accordance to such things. I can see it now. If we do not fulfill our duties perfectly, we will be culled by Hachiman, because with his trust comes expectations. We are not irreplaceable, so both mistakes and malign intentions can oust us from our positions. In order to ensure that does not occur, we must be more than what we are asked to be… or at least not make the same mistakes that once had those of our profession wiped out. “Thank you for your help, Henri. I’ll repay you someday!”

Henri gave me a gracious nod and a smile, which would’ve been a quite sweet send off, if her turning to return to her chair did not showcase her entire body to me.

…

“Ah, so nice and warm.” 

The commercial baths of Ylstu are quickly becoming an attraction all their own. While Henri once questioned why she was being made to make springs of hot water in the middle of valley, once the entertainment sector began to be completed, it became very apparent why. While the regular baths, which only admitted residents was meant to be a place to cleanse the body, the commercial baths were another way for an individual to relax after a day’s work.

The one I frequented had a sauna, which I, another Lamia, and all scaled folk enjoyed immensely.

“It’s as though I’m lying in the finest afternoon sun… and not drying out!” The Wyvern I sat next to one was one of the trainees for the next generation of haulers. Usually, I shared a room with many familiar faces, the first generation of haulers, but they were now high in demand and busy. Half their number was with Hachiman, while the other half was both training and handling the duties expected of them throughout Ylstu. “This place is the best!”

“I know, right? It’s amazing.” I didn’t know here name yet, but she grinned at me and gestured towards the bucket of water and the heated stones at the center. When I nodded, she was quick to fill the room with more steam and cast away the towel that she had upon her shoulders to expose her entire body to the glorious, warm steam. I kept myself somewhat covered at my waist, but I could not resist enjoying the heat myself. “I hope that Hachiman makes a public bath with a sauna just for Ylstu.”

I expected a speedy affirmation from the Wyvern, as I typically would get from her seniors, so I was surprised as the young, viridian-scaled girl with black hair looked upon me with panic.

“H-Hey, is it fine for you to call Lord Hikigaya by just his first name? It… it doesn’t sound right!” For a second, I wondered where the happy, coarse Wyvern I’d met and spoken upon entering went, because I found myself looking upon a Kindred who feared for her life. “Everyone calls him Lord Hikigaya, so… won’t we get hurt if we call him anything else, Miss Lamia? Everyone here loves him so much!”

It felt almost cruel to laugh at her words, but I did anyway, as it took more than I had to not.

“Hahah… no, it’s fine to call him Hachiman. In fact, I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.” I leaned back and enjoyed the sauna for a bit. A part of me still felt astonished at the affection, respect, and loyalty so many Kindred felt for a man they could not touch, but the truth was easy to see for anyone, including the new Wyvern who was spending her first night in her life enjoying herself thanks to him. Many in Ylstu would kill and die in his name for all that he has given them. Still, he takes no advantage of that fanatic loyalty. “He’s the sort of man who dislikes being called something he’s not.”

The Wyvern girl was confused by my words.

“But is he not the Lord of this land?”

It took me a long time to realize the truth, but after the information I’ve gathered on Hikigaya Hachiman, as well as the way and thinking behind his actions I came to a singular conclusion.

“He is, but he is not, because he prefers to take care of us all instead of allow us to take care of him.” There is a selfishness to his actions. He is bringing into existence the world he was taken from here, but the results are undoubtable. From me to even this young Wyvern, he believes it is duty to protect all his citizens, care for them, and ensure their happiness, so that they would follow him anywhere… when nearly all Kindred would be happy with merely the first. “So, if you ever see him, call him Hachiman, okay? I’m sure that’ll make him happy.”

“Ummm… if you say so, Miss Lamia!”

He’ll never admit it, but whenever he’s treated as himself rather than a leader or a legend, he smiles. 

It’s a small smile. 

But its there.