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Hero of Greed

The Vecora Continent is home to three countries of great power, each with its own grudges, desires, and internal machinations. Athios. An alliance of belligerent city-states that make up the southern region, whose borders are being encroached on by hungry neighbors. Theurgard. A clannish collective located in the freezing northern steppes of Vecora. With the passing of time, it has evolved into a hawkish empire, whose frostbitten populace hungrily stares toward the more temperate south. Finally, Rochan. A kingdom made up of traders, merchants, seafarers, and ambitious adventurers. They call the Delane Peninsula their home, sandwiched between Athios and Theugard. Rochan has found itself benefiting off the other two's skirmishes, though such gold has created dangerously ambitious nobles. And living on this continent, is Gary. Neither his name nor personality would suggest Gary would ever have an impact on the world. Generally unpleasant and of average talent, he would have been lucky to be put down as a footnote in history. He is a greedy, lying, sorry excuse of a team leader who is more than willing to risk it all for some gold. But stuck in a dire situation, Gary experiences a freak accident, one that leads him either to the end of the world, or a chance at greatness. Living in a world with scheming nobles and existential doom, Gary must change his actions, and become something he was never meant to be: a hero. Or... at least pretend to be one. ................ AN: I do not own the cover

Dontlookdown · Fantasie
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53 Chs

The Sleaze

"Damn it Brandus, ever he--" Gary coughed weakly. "--Ugh, ever heard of pulling back your punches?"

He carefully touched his newest wound; a sword slash that stretched from shoulder to his opposite hip.

His hand was pressed against the wound, for all the good that did. He could visibly see the blood ebb out of the deep gash with every heartbeat. Crimson dribbled between his fingers. Although the large sword wound was serious, it wasn't his only injury.

A tapestry of pain was painted across his body. Bruises and cuts covered every inch of his figure. The brown leather armor that once guarded his arms and legs had been mauled to pieces, shreds of it falling loose as what few untouched seams kept it from falling from his body. The little metal plating that covered his torso had fared no better, having been split by one of Brandus' many heavy-handed strikes in their foray.

He leaned weakly against the crumbling remains of a grand pillar. There were streaks of blood on the column. The dark granite provided stark contrast for the bright red, which pooled beneath his feet-- no, foot.

After the short and painful fight, Gary's left leg had been broken. Now, his leg was bent and twisted as no leg should be and was completely useless towards the institution of… well, you know, standing.

He and his teammates were inside the ruins of an ancient palace. Once ruled by the legendary demon king, who commanded the legions of lesser demons, the castle had entered a decline since his defeat centuries ago.

A glorious ruler had been torn down inside these hallowed halls. Almost fitting that Gary's own betrayal happened inside the palace.

His question was answered by the sound of approaching footsteps, as one of the several individuals surrounding him stepped forward.

Brandus, his once good friend (according to Gary), stood above him with his claymore drawn. He had a larger frame, with a rather pale face and messy brown hair. He would have given off an unassuming air if he wasn't so pissed off... and didn't have a sword pointing at Gary.

"I never did make a habit of holding back, especially towards traitors," Brandus' face was the epitome of the calm before the storm. "We've been your team for… what, ten years? You think we wouldn't know that you were spouting bullshit?"

Panic sent chills down Gary's spine, though did his best to keep a mask of confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"Ah, there it is." Brandus tutted. "Your poker face isn't as good as you think it is; no one here is buying that sorry excuse of a lie."

A quick glance at his party members proved Brandus right; he was met with nothing but disgust.

Alfred, Shasa, Edwin, and Gabriel showed no remorse for their actions. Or their poker faces were better than his, either one was a fair possibility.

"Fine, you win! The goal of the expedition wasn't for Merlin's staff." He admitted, his body sliding even further down the pillar.

"I fucking knew it!" Shasa screamed, her fingers clenched against her modest wooden staff: one that was clearly not an ancient artifact. She began feeding mana into her staff, which glowed brightly despite its unassuming appearance.

"Shit!" Gary quickly rolled off the pillar and dove as far as he could when she let out a scream. He was well aware of her temperament and already predicted some type of magic would be sent his way.

Lo and behold, he was right on the money; a fiery orb flew his way, hissing with flame and steam.

Alas, a man with a broken leg can only jump so far, and he was sent flying after the fireball collided against the pillar with frightening power.

He was left lying face-down against the stone floor, letting out muffled groans between his ragged breaths.

"I'm sorry Shasa, I really thought it would be here!" He cried out, his eyes staying glued to the staff she still had pointed at him.

"Bullshit, we all know what an item whore you are." Shasa hissed. Her staff was lightly pulsing as she put more mana into it.

"And this isn't the first time you've done this..." Alfred solemnly added. "Claiming some equipment that is perfect for one of us is just off in the distance-"

"And it turns out that it's not there-" Edwin jumped in.

"-but somehow, you find an item so perfect for you that it would be a shame if you didn't use it." Brandus finished, as all five of them stared at their sleazy leader.

'Damn...'

Gary had always been what he called a 'true adventurer'. He always had the desire to find some lost item or pile of wealth. This desire came in the form of him gathering and analyzing any type of historical document, keen on finding some looked-over information or lost treasure.

Of course, he did spend more time on items that benefitted him the best, but...

"Yes! I was mainly interested in something else, but that doesn't mean that I lied. I thought the staff was here just as much as I thought the other thing would be." He said while giving them his best rendition of puppy-dog eyes.

"I know how much such a staff means to you Shasa. I would never lie about something like that!" Gary begged desperately. "Honest!"