Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 147

Unfortunately, I’m Not A Hero: 147

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Commissioned by Shaderic

Wordcount: 2500

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Waiting is the most difficult part in any battle.

For people on the ground and ready to fight, they have to hurry up and wait for their next set of orders, which’ll come in either half-an-hour or two hours. I wasn’t jealous of that position, primarily because I’ve never been a part of it.

From the very start, I’ve had to deal with waiting around as someone in charge, and it was something that I didn’t like one bit.

In an RTS game, you’ll get to see your orders carried out in real time. You can figure out what’s going on with your own eyes through values suspended in air. Any commander of any military will pay any price to have the same information readout that some mouthbreather has while playing an RTS game, because it’s everything they need to make tactical and strategic decisions the moment their men engage the enemy.

Troop composition, effectiveness of weapons, and whether or not your troops need more or less during the fight.

All of those things were things I’d give an arm and a leg to have at my disposal from the moment I received my first command as a slave.

I’d be able to send troops elsewhere instead of having them sit around with their thumbs up their ass. It would let me get people out of the way when they needed to get out of the way, but couldn’t because they had to follow their orders. I’d be able to see if I sent the right people for the right job, and pull them out if they weren’t.

Overall, if you’re a commander of a military force, then you’ll have to contend with the fact that you’re absolutely forced to just sit down, wait, and do your best to give out orders based on the information coming in while everyone else does the fighting.

Being safe, while other people risked their lives, didn’t sit well with me.

The only problem was that if I stepped out of my very safe command center, I’ll undoubtedly find myself in danger after the battle ends.

So, if I stayed still and acted like a normal commander, I’d feel lost and useless.

But, if I walked out and tried to do something that required initiative, my subordinates would punish me.

Yep, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

No matter what I do, I’ll suffer one way or another.

At least, this time, I was more confident that less of my troops were going to die.

…

To prevent me from taking any unnecessary risks, a small section of the magical map in the command center was activated. We still kept some of our limited magical supply in reserve for emergency, in case our enemy let loose a city-breaking potshot or two our way, but what I was allotted didn’t make a dent in the reserves.

So, from the safety of a fortified bunker, inside a fortified castle, which had massive curtain walls, I was able to watch the battle unfold.

While being served tea and sandwiches by maids, with a Dragon and Anubis on standby at my side, and several Kunoichi.

I made jokes about being a supervillain a while back, but my current circumstances really emphasized the fact. While everyone was fighting for their lives, I was in an incredibly protected location, being served snacks and drinks, and protected by two rather strong champions and several experts in assassination who already came back from the dead once.

And, if I hadn’t fought for my current position, I’d be doing the same thing in either Henri’s Necropolis or the Dwarven stronghold instead Ylstu Castle. In either of those places, I’d be staying in a villa, with a battalion around me, and a feast would be served. Hell, if I just nodded and said yes to everything my subordinates insisted on, I’d probably be on a ship sailing to Kurama’s ancestral lands.

But back to the situation at hand.

I could feel A’Bel’s ecstasy at the battle coming through our line, so I moved the map to look over at her and her surroundings.

Cellphone-lite and Bekat both loomed over my shoulder to peer at the sight.

“So, that is the goddess of the Empire? She seems powerful, but untrained. Strength is a fine measure, but other skills are necessary as well.” Bekat provided insight, while I A’Bel summoned a sword and shield of hellfire to charge straight at the former Popess. As Bekat implied, the incarnation of the Goddess could do little more than retreat at the sudden charge. She set up barriers, much like the one she used to block Henri’s massive, DBZ-knockoff attack, and sent beams A’Bel’s way… but my Demon just charged through them with a smile. The barriers and attacks shattered against her. “Is that truly a goddess? She seems afraid.”

“Hmph, I bet she stinks of fear. I’ve seen her kind before. So confident, until confronted with true power.” Cellphone-lite, according to the logistics center supervisors, was a pretty good worker and rapidly climbed the ranks thanks to her leadership skills. Decades of pirating gave her the experience necessary to move packages quickly to where they needed to be, which was very important in wartime. In fact, she was doing so well that I was considering remembering her name. “Whoever this woman was before she gained the power of a goddess, she was spoilt and became soft. She will be easy to break… but why does the Demon seem so happy to fight her?”

That was a pretty good question to ask.

Why the hell would A’Bel be interested in dueling a weak opponent?

The answer came to mind the instant I considered it.

“Hm, it looks like A’Bel just wants to play with her food.” I shook my head, and watched as A’Bel got through the Goddess Shard’s defenses and sent an armored kick into the former Popess’ stomach. The simple kick sent the divine-blessed being into the mountain. Not onto the mountain and making a crater. No. INTO the mountain. Then, A’Bel charged straight through the collapsing rock and stone like it was sand with a laugh. “Yeah, it’s pretty weak, but it's tough enough to be a chew toy. Well, whatever, as long as she does her job.”

The two peering over my shoulder exchanged glances at the news that A’Bel could use a shard of the goddess like a punching bag, while I focused on the rest of the battle.

The Ur, Ashe, and Reiser were putting up an incredible fight.

Ur coordinated with her old and new subordinates with ease, leveraging all the strength of the Amazons, and put her experience from the early days to use. Under her command, people were pulled out the moment they were injured and given health potions, so their clash against the Goddess’s Chosen didn’t deplete their numbers. There were only a few of the Chosen present, but they were all raid-bosses that needed to get chipped down and killed carefully, so the Amazons ganged up on them, coordinated attacks, and rotated their frontline fighters to best handle the beasts.

The newly-born Vampires and Onimusha were excellent at dealing damage with their newfound abilities and bodies, but the natural-Amazons had more time to learn and use magical enhancements and their own special abilities. Normally, there would be problems with honor and all that bullshit about who got the kill, but they were a tribal people that barely developed storytelling and history-keeping.

They fought with underhanded tactics, used every advantage they had at their disposal, and didn’t hesitate to murder their foes the most efficient way possible.

The Chosen of the Goddess could regenerate, had skin that normal steel would bounce off against, and used magical weapons like they were common kitchen knives. Each one of them had their minds replaced with techniques and strategies for war, as well as magics that could keep them in the fight.

No creativity.

No spirit.

No will.

On one hand, I understood that monsters like that had their place in a war. They were perfect for rear guard actions, and as occupation troops. They’ll make sure any army approaching them will get bogged down, and they’ll tear apart any uprising that goes against them. However, using them as a vanguard or shocktroopers was stupid, because you didn’t want your elites to be mindless automatons that could solve problems.

Case in point: the Amazons current tactics were entirely their own and they were winning.

“These servants of the goddess are formidable, they’re harming your elite soldiers, but I can see that they’re losing.” Bekat offered her two cents on the battle. Her tanned brow furrowed as her golden gaze turned to the mystical map. Maybe, she was wondering how my troops would fare against Mekh’s finest. “And, none of your soldiers are dying themselves, though they are taking wounds, there is enough to spare for them to return to battle.”

I thought that Cellphone-lite would comment on Ur and the Amazons abilities too, but she had other things in mind.

“I want to see how the Hellhound fights to kill.” I shrugged at the request and enjoyed how pale the red-haired Dragon became as I shifted over to Ashe. The moment was perfect. The moment I tuned in, Ashe physically ripped off the head of one of the Champions with her clawed hands, while a spear of light melted against the barrier of hellfire that she was covered in. Despite how light and fetishized her armor was out of battle, it did its job of allowing her to harness her power as both a weapon and a means of protection. “How… how long has she known to fight like that?”

“Hah, that’s how she always fought. I had to teach her to hold back.” I only managed to beat Ashe because I had enough Amazons to weaken her Hellfire. Not only that, but I took the rest of her tribe hostage. If she engaged the Dragon with the same firepower covering her entire body, then the Dragon would’ve lost no matter how resistant to fire she was. Hellfire trumped whatever Dragons spewed out, even if it was a close thing.  “You’re welcome.”

I idly turned the map to face Reiser and I found her state to be similar to that of Ashe.

My former champion stood over the corpse of a Champion, holding its head in her hand, before tossing it away. The body of the Champion had cuts on its tendons, its chestplate was caved in, and its eyes were gone. Movement slowed, blinded, and barely able to breathe before the kill was made. I’d always told her to make sure her opponents were dead, and to break her opponents down. Even if she was a bit of an idiot, I supposed that she was somewhat decent at learning practical lessons.

I moved past her, back to A’Bel, when a surprise guest showed up.

Henri was there, looming over the pile of rumble that became of the mountain… and she held another one of her Not!Spirit Bombs overhead. Without any preamble, the Lich sent it crashing into the mountain, thus destroying whatever structure it had left. It came straight out the other side, with two figures fighting on its surface, both resisting the power of Death itself.

My hand met my face the moment I realized what I was looking at.

“Dammit, A’Bel.” A’Bel was living her best life as a war-obsessed Demon straight out of Hell. I couldn’t parse all the details, but I could feel her delight as she had to protect herself from Henri’s attack, fight on a rapidly moving surface, and take on a shard of the Empire’s bitch of a goddess at the same time. “If you lose, I’m going to find a way to kill you myself.”

I spared a glance at the woman A’Bel was fighting.

Her godly vestments were destroyed, black blood flowed out of innumerable cuts on her body, and both fear and terror were obvious in her eyes. While everything else about the woman looked like some marble statue dedicated to a goddess of love or something, her eyes were clearly and obviously that of a normal human.

Yeah, that made things click.

If there’s anything A’Bel loves more than fighting powerful immortal creatures, it was fighting powerful mortals.

Immortals were just too different, too wise, and too sure of themselves. They had a confidence with every move they made that slowed them down. Roseanne, for example, could barely keep up with the pace I was putting forward just like all the other immortal Kindred rulers. They were too sure, too happy with the current circumstances, and death was something that didn’t cross their minds… even when it should.

Mortals, though?

Normal people brought to the very brink, put on the line, and forced to fight or die? Well, I didn’t want to toot my own horn, but I think I’ve done a pretty good job at staying alive by doing absolutely everything I could. And, while I did that, how many impossible or crazy things did I manage to get done just to kill the people who wanted me dead?

So, of course, I understood why A’Bel was so happy to fight against whoever she was fighting against.

It may as well have been her chance to fight against me, but in far different circumstances.

“Mhmm, yep. I need to make sure that I can kill her somehow, just in case.” I nodded at that thought, before turning the map back to the general battle and looking it over. I waved over one of the waiting messengers after checking the time. “Tell everyone to start a fighting retreat and to stay alive.”

I checked the clock again and the door opened with another Harpy from outside with a message.

“The Demon Lord is here!”

Yep, just in time for the clean up.

“Roseanne can clean up the rest of this mess.”

Man, I said it once, but I’ll say it again.

It feels good to be the big, bad loss condition everyone’s struggling to defeat.