[https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AL9nZEUB8ND6pkqUeuYaP04s0E_LIFcqPw1KCVLdd8_OF1d0_nrk9tVMgIw4XrUw1U_RvJusr_uhiGXjdg5tcG9lexqPVNGKbfudm6rwIJOx43Q9WSdHAWFo4792oYgCkniAp0HOO0_px5teU1CX7fgmr__V=w732-h500-no?authuser=0]
In the so-called Dragon’s Lair was an abyss so dark that no words found outside of a thesaurus could properly describe it.
Hmm… “Fuliginous”, “stygian” and “murksome”. Thank you, Wiktionary, for providing the big words that this poor author cannot afford.
In this fuliginously and murksomely stygian cave was a whole lot of nothing. Which, as our most brave hero had to admit, was much scarier than anything.
Rabanowicz had warned them that having an open fire in an underground area would be a bad idea, so there were no light sources as the trio had to navigate by sticking to the walls and hoping they were going forward. Thankfully this cave system didn’t seem to have any forks; it was a long snaking one-way path without a chance to get lost.
Along the naturally hewn walls of rock the trio marched. Rabanowicz observed what she could of the cave, mentally taking notes to use as material later on while writing scenes of knights entering caves.
Watanabe, with all of his bravery and heroic substance, was shaking in fear. Not as bad as his other encounters, this shake of his would only score a 7 on the Richter scale, but he was still not used to being in the dark. Back on Japan there were electrical lights that’d make sure that he’d never have to face any abysses; he was not used to being blind.
Vasilia was casually marching forward without thinking much of the endless darkness that lay before her.
Nobody was really talking to each other: Rabanowicz was too focused on authorly observation, Watanabe was too occupied trying not to soil the rock of the cave and Vasilia didn’t really know the two enough to make any small talk.
This only made the silence of the cave worse for our gallant hero. He was left along with his thoughts.
You know, I’m starting to realize something, thought Watanabe. This hero stuff is really scary. Unless I get granted a cheat skill like that time with Tan-something-rina, I’m just some insignificant everyman that cannot stand against two armed evangelists, let alone a dragon.
Our hero turned towards the general direction of the two women. He couldn’t see anything; he just did this as a rhetorical device to enhance what he’d monologue about next.
The women don’t fall in love with me at first sight. I’m not the chosen one, nor am I the protagonist. Yes, I think it’s time to accept that fact.
He reflected on his time back in genericplacethathecouldn’trememberthenameof-land. Of when he slaid the big bad evil guy, when he could have lived a leisurely life as some sort of cliché hero.
Yet, when I died again and went to the after-afterlife, things seemed lackluster despite me reaching a high level and acquiring unlimited power.
Why then, did I forgo the life of a protagonist?
In the so-called Dragon’s Lair was an abyss so dark that no words found outside of a thesaurus could properly describe it.
Hmm… “Fuliginous”, “stygian” and “murksome”. Thank you, Wiktionary, for providing the big words that this poor author cannot afford.
In this fuliginously and murksomely stygian cave was a whole lot of nothing. Which, as our most brave hero had to admit, was much scarier than anything.
Rabanowicz had warned them that having an open fire in an underground area would be a bad idea, so there were no light sources as the trio had to navigate by sticking to the walls and hoping they were going forward. Thankfully this cave system didn’t seem to have any forks; it was a long snaking one-way path without a chance to get lost.
Along the naturally hewn walls of rock the trio marched. Rabanowicz observed what she could of the cave, mentally taking notes to use as material later on while writing scenes of knights entering caves.
Watanabe, with all of his bravery and heroic substance, was shaking in fear. Not as bad as his other encounters, this shake of his would only score a 7 on the Richter scale, but he was still not used to being in the dark. Back on Japan there were electrical lights that’d make sure that he’d never have to face any abysses; he was not used to being blind.
Vasilia was casually marching forward without thinking much of the endless darkness that lay before her.
Nobody was really talking to each other: Rabanowicz was too focused on authorly observation, Watanabe was too occupied trying not to soil the rock of the cave and Vasilia didn’t really know the two enough to make any small talk.
This only made the silence of the cave worse for our gallant hero. He was left along with his thoughts.
You know, I’m starting to realize something, thought Watanabe. This hero stuff is really scary. Unless I get granted a cheat skill like that time with Tan-something-rina, I’m just some insignificant everyman that cannot stand against two armed evangelists, let alone a dragon.
Our hero turned towards the general direction of the two women. He couldn’t see anything; he just did this as a rhetorical device to enhance what he’d monologue about next.
The women don’t fall in love with me at first sight. I’m not the chosen one, nor am I the protagonist. Yes, I think it’s time to accept that fact.
He reflected on his time back in genericplacethathecouldn’trememberthenameof-land. Of when he slaid the big bad evil guy, when he could have lived a leisurely life as some sort of cliché hero.
Yet, when I died again and went to the after-afterlife, things seemed lackluster despite me reaching a high level and acquiring unlimited power.
Why then, did I forgo the life of a protagonist?
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
[https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AL9nZEVM0O4ZFMHnPBQSBUu_w789bc6qus0zwHm1JPzzjCVOk-YNYptHVeeQrWNCzYjRRpZWDZQEjprUiSrgFkpATHK5qgz-3ij7v6069ECN3KE6ibeG8G19sCeWdFvxh9ybxpYIZ0aOE6DD5ZzsmHGPTmWN=w1759-h100-no?authuser=0]
It was presumably late at night; it was hard to tell night apart from day in Tokyo. Thousands of people and vehicles continued populating the streets at such an ungodly hour.
Yet there was one man who was absent from the hubbub of the metropole.
Watanabe had finally gotten the right to get home after working his nominally 8-hour shift on Sunday that regularly had a couple hours of unpaid overtime added to it. Our hero entered his tiny apartment room with a small shopping bag in his hand. He left the bag on a low table to quickly prepare a meal in the rice cooker.
Watanabe sat on a cushion in front of the aforementioned low table with a bowl of plain rice in one hand and a can of beer on the other. He put them down and finally took a look at the contents of the shopping bag: Six volumes of a new isekai light novel series.
Sure, he was a bit too old for these light novels by now, but he didn’t really have time or patience to read proper novels. Nor did he usually have the money, meaning that he’d have to content himself with webnovels that were free. He had decided to splurge after hearing raving reviews about this new series.
The cover, like all other light novels, was one that was most colorful. Of course, there was a beautiful female character on the cover to entice buyers while sitting on the shelf, along with a male protagonist in the background that looked about as generic as Watanabe. There was also, most expectedly, the title of the series that covered the entire upper part of the cover due to its length.
Our hero finally opened the book after having sufficiently partaken in the cover.
[https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AL9nZEXmMk4oFbdQaLAgaoqbbJ_Drvp-_MObYjIixp9v2ToCUCyh-OI8NDf45_nkaZnV7n8DzCN90owMkuUVTnhpGvd7liaGnAsDiVuuBHh3tF3fa8YoaHgA9L7KU1saTTGZZ1mqNSeaK3T7q21CgAnivfho=w647-h500-no?authuser=0]
Dying from overwork? Guess we’re going for an older, more mature protagonist. Watanabe quickly skimmed over the prologue. Goddess, cheat skill… Create anything? That’s just too broken. Thankfully the protagonist seems to be as dense as osmium. Guess that’s this author’s way of balancing things.
He continued on to the first chapter where the protagonist met with the first harem member. He gained her favor by creating a lost family heirloom that was destroyed along with her village. This tragic backstory would have had more emotional impact if its resolution was longer than a paragraph or two, thought Watanabe.
Yet he enjoyed the titillating harem shenanigans (not to mention the spicy illustrations included in the book) and the power fantasy of a powerless office worker gaining power despite the lack of conflict or stakes in the plot. By the fourth chapter the protagonist gained another harem member by buying some slave. In the seventh chapter the protagonist gained another. And another after that. And another. And another…
Expectedly, after adding so many harem members, the novel in its second volume was left as nothing but a romp filled with cardboard cutouts following another protagonist-shaped cardboard cutout. The protagonist just annihilated everything that dared threaten him despite his supposed denseness, the only thing that stopped him from defeating the big bad evil guy was the contrived BS that the author kept making up so that he could sell more volumes.
Watanabe gave up reading by the end of the second volume. The power-fantasy was satisfying at first, but it became boring to see the protagonist demolish everything without being challenged by anyone. He took a look at the illustrations contained in the other volumes, took note of those that were “interesting” and then dumped the six volumes in a lone corner.
What a dense idiot that protagonist was. Having so many people swooning over him, but never being able to notice their feelings or choose anyone. It just gets frustrating at some point; it'd have been better if the entire thing ended with the first volume! Just imagine being the protagonist who’s forced to sit through all of this terrible pacing. I could do much better if I was the protagonist!
Watanabe, annoyed at the impotence of the protagonist, went to sleep while thinking of ways he could be a better main character.
[https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AL9nZEVM0O4ZFMHnPBQSBUu_w789bc6qus0zwHm1JPzzjCVOk-YNYptHVeeQrWNCzYjRRpZWDZQEjprUiSrgFkpATHK5qgz-3ij7v6069ECN3KE6ibeG8G19sCeWdFvxh9ybxpYIZ0aOE6DD5ZzsmHGPTmWN=w1759-h100-no?authuser=0]
…Looking back, with a clearer mind, I now realize that the lives of those protagonists have been quite dull. It did feel quite dull when I finally got to be overpowered. I’ve tried to go cause similar adventurous encounters here too, yet all I’ve done is mess things up and just cause problems for myself and others.
Wow, some self-reflection and character development? Our hero was failing at being a proper protagonist. All this thinking had made him nervous. Watanabe decided to forgo character development for now and break the silence by adding his own narration:
“Night time. It was dark as if all the light in the world had been sucked up by a sudden blackhole from space. Fortunately, for our hero and his party, there were no blackholes sucking up anything. The lack of artificial light in a pre-industrial society meant that there was no light pollution, hence the pitch-dark environment outside.
Yet, all of this mattered not. Our hero and his party were in pitch darkness, yes, but not out of lacking electrical lighting but out of being in a cave few meters underground.
They were on a quest, on an epic errant the likes of which none had ever seen in real. If successful, the name of the hero and his retainers would be etched down in history, their names never would be washed away come even Armageddon.
Our hero was on a journey to save a beautiful princess from an evil dragon, who was rumored to be most fierce and malicious. He would surely succeed in this endeavor; he was being followed by two jade beauties who would never waver no matter what happene-”
Watanabe’s self-narration was suddenly interrupted by an angry Rabanowicz. “By the Divine, if you do not shut up you’ll get a taste of my shoe, monsieur! Do your narration quietly if you so desperately need to narrate!”
“What is a ‘jade’?” asked Vasilia who was ignorant of matters related to otherworldly precious gems.
“Am I wrong though? We’re on a quest, to save a princess, from a dragon-”
“As I have said countless times, dragons don’t exist monsieur. This cave is only rumored to have one, and one such as yourself should know how rumors can amount to nothing.” replied Rabanowicz.
“Fine, we are on a quest to save a princess from possibly a dragon, and there are currently two women with me.”
“Who are not following thee.” suddenly added Vasilia.
“Nor do I agree to being called a ‘jade-beauty’, whatever it is.” further added Rabanowicz.
“Well, you know, these sorts of accounts require a drop of exaggeration. What will readers think if they found out that someone such as I have still had no beautiful woman following me this far into the story?” said Watanabe dejectedly.
“I don’t know what they’d feel, for I dabble mostly in higher forms of literature and a story like yours would be out of my sight, monsieur.” replied Rabanowicz.
“I don’t really read so I wouldn’t know either.” added Vasilia.
“Insulting the reader and calling the work they are reading lowbrow wouldn’t help their assessment either.” said Watanabe in a further state of dejection.
The nothingness of the cave was over when the party finally ended up in a dead-end, signaling the end of the cave.
“See? Just baseless rumors, the lot of them.” commented Rabanowicz, staring at the empty cave wall constituting the dead-end. “There is no dragon, nor is there a princess.”
Watanabe (and Vasilia) was disappointed due to the lack of dragons and the fact that they had spent who-knows how much time dabbling in a dank cave. They decided to turn back, and did so coincidentally in rhythm.
Now though, they found a dead-end at the other side, this time in the form of a large scaly creature, bearing wings and yellow eyes that pierced the abyss of the cave.
“Adohe shelmiy Bocze!” shouted Rabanowicz in a language that no one else in the party understood. “Monsieur, how is such a creature real?! Monsieur?”
Having gone through a dark cave, which he had tried to distract himself of his fear of such a cramped place by randomly narrating, Watanabe was at wits’ end.
He had already most gallantly fainted the moment he saw caught a glimpse of the creature.