Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 4

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 4

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Wordcount: 2500

Commisioned by Shaderic.

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Roseanne, thankfully, knew better than to personally congradulate me for making a slaughterhouse. That was another point towards how I fucked in the long term, since my boss was too freaking talented, but for the moment I could freely wallow in my guilt and self-hatred on my own. What kind of cold-blooded motherfucker wouldn’t be fucked in the head after creating a strategy that butchered just about ten thousand people over the course of a no hour? 

The answer was someone who’d been at it for more than several years. 

There’s a lot of edgy, dark Main Characters that validate why they kill. Kill or be killed. Lack of concern for the lives of the enemy. Vengeance. Then, after they kill someone they puke, feel sick, and have to be looked after by their love interest with boobs bigger than their head. It’s a shitty move. The author pulls back, because the MC has to be a good person who’s just misunderstood and deserves to be happy, just like everyone in the whole 40-something, single audience.

But here I am sitting on tree stump, looking over a moonlit battlefield filled with corpses, and feeling nothing. 

If not for me, everyone in the camp that was no celebrating a victory before departure would be dead.

However, if not for me, ten thousand people would be alive instead of us. Looking at any war from a logical perspective, in terms of numbers and the possibility of defeating the Demon Lord, the Empire had to commit to the battle. Taking out the Demon Lord means winning a strategic victory that could change the entire war forever. I knew that, as well as their tactics, and used the fact that they would commit to any fight with the Demon Lord with everything they had.

The generals of the Empire weren’t at fault, nor were the commanding officers on the field, and even the random soldiery in the ranks. I’d made it clear that if they retreated, they’ll be annihilated by magic, just like their mages. From the point of view of the generals, the officers, and the men on the battlefield, the only option was to fight and to win. They had to continuously walk into a battlefield where every odd was against them, because in their mind the only way to survivie in the short or long term was to win. 

I could have broken their spirit, made the Demon Lord flee from the battle while morale was its lowest, and have it reverberated through the Empire’s ranks that there was another choice. They could retreat without being bombarded by magic; thus, the officers would feel the pressure of the kill zone, and the generals would have nothing to do besides declare that they forced the Demon Lord back after she strode to the frontlines herself.

However, that wouldn’t have gotten me that status I wanted. 

For the life that was taken for me, for the lives I was forced to take, and the lives I had to spend to stay alive, I wanted the best possible result for the battle because I wanted to be an asset to Roseanne. Therefore, I delivered the product that I wanted to give and keep giving for as long as she would have me. 

I promised slaughter, gave it, and yearned for more.

It wasn’t pleasuring myself to a comatose ally of mine, but at least Shinji fucking Ikari had to balls to admit that he was fucked up. 

Me?

I sat, looked upon my work, and had to repress laughing in relief and letting out a breath of contentment. After years… I had the right to kill those who kidnapped me, used me, and abandoned me the moment I became less than they were willing to afford. Then, I turned their nights, soldiers, and valued assets into ash, fertilizer, and had them buried in mass graves without the courtesy of having their heads taken and washed. 

I felt nothing besides anticipation and excitement, as I altered my creations, devised solutions to possible counter attacks, and wondered where I’ll be inflicting the same losses again.

And it was difficult to make myself feel even the slightest bit bad in the slightest.

Yeah, without a doubt, I’m not the hero in the setting in the slightest. 

…

Roseanne had the gall not to wear red and black when we met in the morning. Instead, since we were riding out back to safer territoiry, she wore clothes meant entirely for riding. Black, long boots, white, tight pants, and whatever the fancy, button shirt up was at the top. To her Royal Guard and other troops, it was something to be admired, since she was riding at the head of her troops instead of in a carriage. 

For me, I thought it would be a waste to not use a royal carriage, so I took it for myself. 

Roseanne spoke to me through the window, while I enjoyed seats meant to support the asses of royal blood. Fun fact, given their extensive inbreeding and bone-deep deformities, all of nobility require more care and comfort in order to function as regular human beings. Thus, they require wagons with nice suspeciouns, plush seating, and even snacks during the journey. Source: Me. Thankfully, my boss is unlike those of other nobility, so I enjoyed all the luxuries that other nobles of lesser status would need as to not simply melt in the sun. 

“After we reach the capital, and you are formally given recognition for your work, you’ll be returning to this region.” Oh no. What a surprise. I’m going to be placed in the region where I held off monsters with ludicrous power and abilities over several years with slaves by making use of every terrain advantage that the lad offered. What a shock that I’ll be sent right back to where I’m the most effective by my boss. “I shall be giving you lordship over this land. It will be yours and that of your bloodline, as long as you serve me faithfully.”

“If I live long enough to procreate, after pissing off the Empire on your orders.” Cell Phone chan, already irritated at having to ride with me in a stagecoach instead of on a horse or in the air like her fellows, narrowed her eyes at the way I spoke to her venerable, well-respected, and totally-not-shifty boss. You know, Cell Phone-chan, I’d be more impressed with your loyalty and devotion if you didn’t give to someone who uses and abuses helpless people. For example: me. I didn’t want vengeance. All I wanted was freedom. Yet now here I am forced to kill rapists, enslavers, and dimensional kidnappers. Sob. Sob. Cry. Cry. “Stop it with the small talk. You know what I am and I have a pretty fair idea who you are. You and I both know that I’m best pointed at the enemy and far away from any potential damage anything important.”

Roseanne laughed. It wasn’t the haughty ojou-sama laugh one would expect, but instead a low, chesty rumble. And not the jiggling kind of chesty, even though there was plenty of that. The sound was more like the low rumble of thunder. A storm of “fuck you” that was cresting the horizon to lavish the countryside with malicious glee. I didn’t know what the Empire did to make an enemy of a woman like her, but I was glad they did. 

The scarlet-haired, horned, and bouncy equestrian probably knew that. 

“Your purpose in this region will be to weaken the surrounding area. Poison it, destroy its morale, and grant the army I am creating a vulnerable spot right into the Empire’s heart.” Exact records of how long this war between the Empire and Monstergirls has lasted is unknown, at least to myself. Still given how Roseanne is the twenty-sevent Demon Lord, how the whole Empire’s culture, economy, and industry is geared for war and resource gathering from corpses, and other little clues… it’s safe for me to assume that my new boss had humongous, massive balls because she wanted to end a war that’s shaped whole civilizations in her lifetime. “I will be sending the most talented individuals I can your way to assist you. You will teach them how to fight and kill. The missions you will undertake, everything you do, will be returned to my people in order to win this damnable war.”

It was decent, top-down strategy for someone with the long-term view in mind.

I had a counter offer.

“Give me every single military resource you have, along with every able-bodied monstergirl and man, and I’ll win this war by the end of the year.” For the first time, Roseanne flinched at my words. Oops. I let some of my actual bloodlust leak out there. Tee hee. Please, forget about my little lapse. I understand completely that lives aren’t just bullets to be fired continuously into a monster’s stomach until their organs burst into shreds. “Let me have every, single military asset you have, give me your country, and I’ll destroy the Empire in a year.”

Roseanne, as a testament to the fact that she was truly deserving of all the respect sent her way, didn’t even consider the words of a deragned psychopath out for blood with terrifying talents. Even though she had her own hangups, even though she wanted the Empire dead in a lifetime, and was willing to walk on an ocean of blood… she had the spine to say no to a devil offering to kill all her enemies as long as she and her country contiously kept paying the price.

Or, maybe, the thought of turning half a contient into the battlefield she saw last night frightened her. 

Either way, as I expected, she refused.

…

The entirety of the trip took up two months. There were multiple stops along the way. Some of them were to resupply, others so that Roseanne could meet with those who ruled over the lands closest to the Empire, and the final stop was so that the capital could have time to receive the ruler with all the might and majesty that it could muster.

Naturally, I was to ride alongside the Roseanne into the capital, dressed as an Empire general with all the sigils of the Empire removed, at the head of the company that I had led. 

Roseanne was playing the game very well. Her triumphant return from an incursion into Empire territory would be with nearly no casualties, with a turncoat general from another world, and hundreds of liberated slaves who are willing to fight for her cause. I’d be a fool to not take notice of the fact that she went into the Empire with only her honor guard, so the message wasn’t just for her enemies abroad, but also her domestic enemies.

Whatever politics lurked behind the throne, the people certainly didn’t know, as they showered the parade with flower pentals as it traversed the main road towards the castle in the center of the city. As far as cities in this new world went, I had nothing to compare Roseanne’s capital to. Slaves were kept away from anything the Empire deemed remotely important. However, given the fact it was a city built for and by monstergirls with magic and physical abilities beyond the norm, I could safely compare it to a modern city.

The buildings were eccentric and exotic, some were white trees that extended upward to the sky, while some were built low and made with brick. Elegant, winding buildings impossible to make without magic stood beside squat, sturdy buildings built due to access to raw, physical strength. The roads were made with magic, a shiny, smooth road that glittered just-so beneath the noon sun, and it had drains that led into gutters that disappeared any waste and water.

The crowds that lined the streets were filed with humans and monstergirls. Many were married, or at least holding hands like absolute degenerates, and there were more than a few hungry gazes that many of the male population of my force appreciated. The Amazons, meanwhile, weren’t as pleased by the majority of the competation while the more normal, warrior women seemed perturbed. 

I could see why.

There weren’t many human women in the capital.

One or two in a massive crowd of thousands that represtned the vast majority of the city.

Statistically speaking, practically nonexistent. 

Roseanne, the perceptive freak that she was, noticed my gaze.

“There will be no forcible conversions of the women amongst your people into becoming one of us. I have outlawed such practices long ago.” The red-haired demon lord spoke while she waved to her populace. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Her smiling, public mask nearly cracked when I did. “Why do you laugh, Hikigaya Hachiman? I pride myself in the changes I implemented onto my people. The world I wish to create is one of harmony between man and monster.”

“Yeah, you’re on your way to that. Men and monsters will be living well, after women are just used as a way to get more human men.” It’s a simple equation. Monsters are inclined to be more giving, beautiful, and pleasing. It’s just one facet of this fucked up, masturbatory fantasy world, which wasn’t important to me in the fucking slightest, but it remained a solid fact that regular women couldn’t compete. “There’s no need to force women into becoming monsters. They’ll do it to themselves. Just look at your crowd, lady. How many human women do you see? Less than even before you started that policy, right?”

Violence, force, and controversy create a counter-movement. People resist being changed by others. I’m sure that before she outlawed the practice, Roseanne had to deal with a coalition of human and monsters tat were against creating monstergirls from humans. However, if those things were removed, yet the challenges of remaining human women remained… what the hell was going to happen in this medieval fantasy? Why would someone choose to not be something else with more advantages, if it’s their choice, and it’s no longer seen as wrong.

Right and wrong change definition as time and circumstances change.

Society is fickle, people are shit, and everyone does everything in their power to get ahead in life. 

You can win wars and totally, completely lose the peace.

“What do you suggest I do?” Roseanne, to her credit, caught on quick. However, all I had for her at that question was a small smile. I couldn’t be blamed for my upcoming answer, because it really was the only answer I had. In this world, all I knew was how to make lives end very, very violently. Her smile slipped for a moment, her eyes narrowed, and she looked straight ahead after she found something unpleasant. Still, she was unable to refrain from expressing her displeasure for the first time. “Tch.”

She might be impossibly poweful, skilled beyond belief, and talented beyond compare… but that didn’t change the fact that she remained a person of her time.

Or rather a monster of her time.

The victory she aimed for had what I just pointed out as a consequence that’ll travel onward through the rest of history, past her lifetime, and she could only avoid that consequence that none of her predecessors had by becoming the very thing they wanted to defeat.

Heh, how ironic.

In the end, the society fighting against interdimensional kidnappers will have to look towards doing it themselves to stay alive once men literally and figuratively dry up.

Too bad.

It’s not my problem, though.