Nyx: The Worst Hero is the Best Demon

Trash Hero

"Damn it!" I screamed, a little higher pitched than I would have liked. I brought the far too heavy club down on the little green monster's head with a sickening crunch. Panting and shaking, I stumbled backwards, hitting a cool stone wall and sliding to the floor, the club clattering to the wet and sticky paving stones next to me.

"What are you doing?" Hollered a young girl as she rushed past me. Her hair was a reddish brown, her black restaurant uniform torn in places and name tag long since torn off. She also held a club, hers already smeared in gore as she glared down where I sat, glaring right back. "Get up! There's still a ton more!"

When I did not answer, nor pry my sorry ass off the ground, she made an irritated noise and dashed back into the fray with a scathing, "Useless!" hissing between her lips.

The girl was a little more than half my age but seemed to have tipple the stamina. But I wasn't surprised. I was a 'dud' after all, and she was probably destined to be a great and revered 'hero' in the grand Stella Empire. 

I watched as many of the seventy odd people I had arrived here with fought the current mass of, what I assumed, to be goblins, that had entered this accursed room. There were a few like myself, pressed against the walls and just praying that this nightmare would be over soon. None of us would have guessed we would be in this situation three days ago, but many were adapting to it better than others.

We were the summoned heroes, brought from earth with a grand spell to the world of Zearsa. Yeah, I was living some kind of messed up isekai bullshit. According to Smarmy-Priest-Dude we had met upon suddenly being zapped here, Zearsa was in deep need of heroes to fight the over running numbers of monsters and the hateful demons. Apparently a bunch of randos from a subway station on Earth could do a better job of that then their own people?

All I knew was that one moment I was sitting on a bench in the tunnels, noise and city stink everywhere, thinking about what I was going to eat when I got home, and the next I was falling flat on my ass on a golden stone floor. There was pandemonium for a good ten minutes before the priest and a hand full of armed soldiers- men in freaking plate armor and carrying swords!- managed to return order.

He explained why we were brought here. All about the impending doom and blah blah blah. I knew bullshit when I heard it. I was and expert bull-shitter after all. There were maybe ten horrible things in the world I had never done, and lying to get what I wanted was not one of them. Sure, maybe this world was in trouble, but I could tell that the tall bastard in white and red robes was fishy.

I wasn't the only one to question this, of course. Hell, I bet most were having a hard time coming to terms with it all. At least I was adaptable. 

But the fact of the matter was that there was no going back. At least that is what we were told by the priest. He could have been lying, but on that point at least, I don't think he was. In reality, that didn't matter too much to me; I had no kids, no husband, and more than one warrant out for my arrest. Clean slate, yay! Even in a shady fantasy world I may have been able to make it work. Hell, for what amounted to a career criminal like myself, this world might be easier to live in. As far as I could tell they had no clue about things like D.N.A testing or finger prints.

But apparently, kidnapping us wasn't good enough for these people. We found that out a few hours later when, after being fed a meal and given time to calm down and get our heads on straight, the priest dropped another bomb on us: we were being thrown into a dungeon. He could have meant a prison, but I was right when I assumed he meant a labyrinth crawling with dangerous monsters.

Kings orders, or so the priest said. Not to worry though! We were being sent in with numerous healers and some of the best knights the great nation of Stella could provide. Lucky us! Yeah, right. Sure, the men sent in with us seemed competent enough, certainly far superior to us normies from Earth who never encountered anything scarier than Larry-the-street-bum on Main Street, who sometimes threw his shit at people. But they were under orders to let us do the fighting as much as possible.