Nobody's Hero: A Monster Girl Harem Adventure Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Nobody's Hero

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Thanks!

  More

  Even more

  First edition. December, 2021.

  Copyright © Quentin Kilgore

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. The characters featured in the story are above the age of 18.

  NOBODY’S HERO

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE GIRL WAS tied to an old post. She was so vulnerable, alone in that muddy clearing, facing the dark cave.

  Endellion pushed aside a branch to get a better view. One hand rested on her bow while her long elf ears listened attentively.

  The bound maiden looked surprisingly human. She could have been one of the fresh-faced academy girls Endellion had seen near the adventurer’s guild a week earlier.

  Not what she’d expected. She’d pictured a furry woman with six tits. Oh, she knew the girl was supposed to be beautiful, but she’d still imagined her as basically a cat walking upright. However, from Endellion’s vantage point, the girl’s only visible feline feature was her fluffy ears, so oddly natural-looking amidst her lustrous blonde hair.

  The ears drooped.

  Endellion clicked her tongue. Poor kitty.

  The village folk had handled her roughly. She was clothed in skimpy rags and gagged. The coarse rope scraped her soft skin as she squirmed and looked around the clearing, taking labored breaths through her nose.

  Her wrists were bound behind her back, tied together on the other side of the post. It looked like it hurt. Endellion smirked. The girl’s handful-sized breasts heaved under a wispy top that occasionally lifted in the breeze.

  A shabby scarf clung around the maiden’s waist. Her snow-white stomach was naked, speckled with mud from when the men had dragged her to the post and hastily tied her up.

  As Endellion’s lascivious gaze followed the length of the girl’s legs, she finally spotted it.

  A tail.

  So she does have one!

  Yup, there it was, hanging between her legs, fur puffed out.

  Suddenly, the cat girl’s ears pricked up, and she looked across the clearing. There was a snuffling noise, faint but unmistakable, deep inside the cave.

  Endellion cursed under her breath and looked at the gray sky; daylight was fading.

  By the gods, Hargish; what’s keeping you?

  She would rather have gotten out of the forest before dark. Holding up a sigil ring on her pinky finger, she saw that it glowed a dull blue. He couldn’t be too far away. It’s not like they were searching a particularly large area.

  Crouching, Endellion grabbed handfuls of dirt and rubbed them over her arms and legs to cover her scent. The girl squirmed and struggled, desperately trying to break free. But she only tired herself out. Her chin fell to her collarbone.

  More noises came from inside the cave. Grunting. Scraping. Sniffing. Then came a sort of quickening in the air. The girl must have sensed it, too, because she tensed up and planted her feet firmly on the ground.

  A dark shape moved near the mouth of the cave, sniffing like a hound on a trail.

  Endellion squatted behind a bush before the beast stepped into the fading light. It was enormous. Even more enormous than Hargish. Thick, gray fur covered its muscular shoulders and barrel chest. Huge arms hung down its sides.

  Maybe Endellion could kill it. Maybe. But not without a nasty fight.

  The lycanthrope licked its lips and whimpered like a dog. It walked towards the girl, sniffing more frantically as it got closer.

  The virgin stared, wide-eyed and motionless, like a frozen prey animal. She noticed something unfurling between its muscular legs. It grew longer and longer, bobbing and swelling with each step.

  Endellion saw it too, and a little smirk appeared at the corner of her lips.

  If I can’t fight it, maybe I can fuck it.

  The cat girl wasn’t the only hot piece of ass in those woods. Endellion was proud of her deadly looks. Cold blonde eyes. Shimmering blonde hair that tumbled down to an athletic backside. Her face was a picture of merciless female beauty, like the face of a sphinx. Its one imperfection—a thin scar that started above the eyebrow and crossed her right cheek—hardly marred her beauty.

  Endellion’s ample breasts squished into an armored bralette. Her thin armored panties hooked onto leather garters that were buckled around her meaty thighs.

  She looked at the panting werewolf, its member growing stiff.

  How great would it be if she sashayed into the clearing, pulled her panties down, and stuck her ass in the air?

  It would be worth it just to see the look on Hargish’s face when he stumbled upon the ensuing scene. Endellion covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

  But that was all nonsense. If she actually tried it, she’d get ripped apart in more ways than one.

  The werewolf reached for the girl, pointing a knife-sharp claw at her. She screamed through the gag and shut her eyes as the claw hooked onto the rope between her thighs.

  Slice.

  The rope fell to the ground. The monster lowered its gnarled hand down to her feet, which were clad in crude leather moccasins.

  Slice.

  Her ankles were free. The cat girl locked her legs together as the monster sniffed her groin. The smell of her sex drove it mad. A low growl rumbled in its chest.

  Raising a claw, it carefully removed the gag from her mouth. The girl’s big blue eyes blinked at it, her cherry-red lips gaping. She squirmed and scrunched her face as the beast put its nose near her mouth, sniffing. It licked her face and then sniffed her hair.

  Endellion reached over her shoulder and slowly pulled an arrow from her quiver, careful not to make any noise.

  Today, Hargish.

  The werewolf ran its massive tongue up the girl’s thighs and over her stomach. Then it sniffed more anxiously at her crotch and panted as she squeezed her legs shut.

  Endellion nocked the arrow. It couldn’t wait any longer.

  If that tongue goes inside, she won’t be a maiden anymore.

  The elf stood up and stepped around the branches. Her hands trembled as she took aim. The first shot had to count.

  Just when she was about to let the arrow fly, a ferocious voice thundered from the trees.

  “Hey, mutt!”

  Endellion started. The arrow soared over the werewolf, far from its mark. Before she could reach for another arrow, the beast was already bounding towards her
, snarling and snapping. She grabbed her sword-hilt.

  * * *

  Brune Hargish lumbered into the clearing with remarkably little noise, his boots being magicked for stealth.

  The werewolf stopped and stepped back, its nose wiggling as it eyed the new intruder. Brune may not have been as tall as the gigantic lycanthrope, but he was every bit as monstrous. Arms as big as an orc’s. Eyes that flashed yellow. Long, freakish ears. Frightful tusks. Wild white hair that hung about his shoulders.

  “Nice of you to show up,” Endellion said, wiping sweat from her brow.

  “Sorry,” Brune said. “Owlbears.”

  Raising a heavy club above his head, Brune bellowed like a savage. Endellion jumped again and then rolled her eyes, cursing herself.

  Brune’s club sailed towards the beast’s head, but it avoided the blow by dropping to the ground, where it rapidly morphed into its full wolf form.

  The werewolf clamped its jaw around Brune’s leg. Big mistake. Its teeth didn’t pierce the dragonhide armor, and it caught a blow from the club.

  CRACK

  The beast stumbled. Brune pointed with his fist.

  “Chaos Wave!”

  A pulse of flame sent the werewolf rolling backward. With startling speed, Brune raised his club against the darkening sky and brought it down like falling timber.

  The werewolf had no time to react before the club smashed its skull twice, laying it out.

  Brune scrutinized the damage. The beast was brained. Thoroughly. Even a werecreature couldn’t regenerate after that.

  Turning on his heel, Brune walked towards the young woman.

  Until that moment, she’d been in the periphery of his vision. He’d barely given her a thought. But now that he saw her, it was like a bomb exploding in his path. He slowed his pace and tripped slightly on a rock.

  Brune was known for staying calm under pressure. He kept his cool swiping treasure from a slumbering dragon or escaping a mob of raging orcs after he’d burgled them. But this girl made his heart gallop as if a mastodon was charging through his chest.

  Her body demanded attention—the length of her legs, the roundness of her hips, her small waist. Mercifully, the scarf draping her waist had fallen down just enough to cover her little peach.

  Brune knew he shouldn’t be looking. Not just for the girl’s sake, but for his own, too. Raging hard-ons were not conducive to successful adventuring. But he couldn’t stop looking once he’d started.

  Her perky breasts stuck out like untouched fruit. The thin ribbon of fabric barely covered her pebbled nipples.

  Her chest heaved, and sweat dripped down her neck. Brune could smell her fear… but also her arousal.

  This confused little kitty was in heat.

  Stifling a groan in his throat, Brune cursed himself inwardly. All he could think about now was how he wanted to pin the girl down in the mud and fuck her into a coma.

  But her face was the final blow. It was the sweetest face he’d ever seen, all dewy and flawless. It made her look innocent—too innocent—so that he felt like a dirty lecher for thinking of her like that. Big sky-blue eyes. Pouting lips. Adorable button nose. It was as though the clouds had opened and an angel had floated down into the forest.

  Despite Brune’s leering, the girl was gazing at him like he was her savior. “I—I’m so grateful to you, Sir,” her tiny voice said. “Thank you! Oh, my gods, thank you so much!”

  Brune’s jaw tightened.

  Fuck, not this again.

  This sort of thing happened once in a while. Old ladies would stop him and ask for directions or some other assistance, as if he was a trusty patrolman walking a beat. Or children would run up and pelt him with questions and demand to see his muscles.

  Couldn’t they see he was a monster? For all they knew, he might just eat them on the spot.

  “Hush!” Brune said, scanning the forest. Owlbears were vicious bastards, and they had a way of sneaking up on you.

  The girl kept babbling. “How did you find me? Oh, thank Feron you did!”

  Brune whipped out a dagger and gripped it in front of her, hoping to terrify her into silence. She glanced blankly at the steel and then turned her wide eyes to Endellion, who stood with her arms crossed.

  “Hello, Phia,” Endellion said in her sultry voice. “Don’t mind him. He’s a man of few words.”

  The cat girl’s eyes lit up. Her face broke into a bright smile, revealing two little fangs. “You’re adventurers, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow,” she said, almost to herself. “Adventurers.” Then she piped up again: “Did the Sisters of Feron send you?”

  Endellion’s lips curled into an ironic smile.

  Phia smiled back. “Gods bless them.”

  Slicing the rope around her middle, Brune put away his dagger, leaving the rope around her wrists in place.

  “I prayed to Feron someone would come to save me,” Phia said, her lip quivering.

  Brune stood in front of her and picked up the gag.

  Phia looked at him in surprise. “Sir?... Wait! – Mmmm! Mmm!”

  Her words were smothered as Brune shoved the gag back into her mouth.

  Looking her up and down again, he was seized by the impulse to cover her up. He thought about wrapping her in his cloak, but it would have been so enormous on her she’d have looked like a swaddled baby.

  Tossing the idea, he put his massive hands under her arms and he lifted her up—right over the top of the post—before flinging her over his shoulder.

  “Mmmm! Mmm!” Phia complained, kicking her legs.

  Endellion put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t make a fuss, sweetie. I’ll take out the gag later. We just need to be quiet in the forest.”

  Phia stopped kicking and let herself droop awkwardly over Brune’s shoulder.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE SETTING SUN painted the sky orange as they emerged from the forest into a field. Their carriage was parked on the nearby road.

  “Still there,” Brune said. “What a surprise.”

  Endellion tossed her head. “It still would have been smarter to cloak it.”

  “Nah, waste of mana.”

  “Mana that I never even used.”

  Brune simply stuck his tongue out at Endellion. No need to revisit the debate they’d had earlier. He just wanted to point out that he’d been right—as far as he was concerned, at least.

  The draft horses whinnied and stamped the ground as the adventurers approached. Brune put Phia on her feet. She stumbled, her ears flat against her hair. Apparently, being gagged and carried almost upside down for 20 minutes had made her grumpy.

  Brune removed the gag. She looked up at him angrily.

  “Sorry about that, Miss Callidora,” he said with a smirk. “We’re safe now. Here, I’ll cut you free.”

  Endellion raised an eyebrow, but Brune took out his dagger and stooped to slice the rope.

  Phia rubbed her wrists and looked at the carriage.

  “It’s an orc-built carriage,” Brune said, realizing it probably looked strange to the girl. It would have been bigger and more crudely built than the carriages she was used to. And it didn’t have a cabin, as orcs traveled in the open air, indifferent to sun or rain.

  Phia’s eyes widened.

  “It’s a little more practical for someone my size,” Brune said. “You’ll ride in the back seat with Endellion.” He looked at the elf. “Give her something to wear, will you?”

  “Of course,” Endellion said. She opened a sack in the back of the carriage and pulled out a purple cloak.

  “Here you are, sweety. Let’s put this on you.”

  “Thank you,” Phia said shyly as Endellion put the cloak over her shoulders.

  The elf closed the cloak over Phia’s breasts and tied the ribbon. It was much too big; Endellion stood a full head above the cat girl.

  “There. That’s better, isn’t it?”

  Phia blinked her big blue eyes at the elf, her ears poi
nting forward. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Endellion couldn’t resist stroking Phia’s head. “You’ve been through a rough time, haven’t you?”

  The catgirl closed her eyes involuntarily, a goofy smile appearing on her face as her head partly disappeared inside the cloak.

  Brune watched with a bemused smirk.

  “Come on now,” the elf said. “Let’s get you into the carriage.”

  “Okay,” Phia said, putting her hand on the railing. She hesitated, and then she suddenly turned to Brune.

  “Thank you, Mr. Hargish!”

  Brune looked at her, his face as impassive as a statue.

  “Th-that’s your name, right? Hargish. Th-thank you for saving me.”

  Brune looked away. “Sure.”

  After helping Phia into the carriage, Endellion walked up to Brune as he looked over the horses.

  “Looks like you’re somebody’s hero, big boy,” she murmured.

  Brune grimaced. “I’m nobody’s hero.”

  As he climbed into the driver’s seat, the cat girl peeked out of the purple cloak and watched him shyly.

  One of the great mysteries of Brune’s existence was the fact that the daintiest and most genteel ladies sometimes found him attractive. They ought to have screamed and run away, given his monstrous lineage.

  But then again, most of his ancestry was dark elf and northern man. Nothing to be ashamed of, really—not even the dark elf part. It was the rest of his lineage that he never talked about.

  That abominable bloodline had given him his massive stature and gargoyle-like features.

  But his human and elf blood had bestowed high cheekbones, a square jawline, and striking eyes. So that made his appearance somewhat less frightening. Maybe that was why women and children insisted on seeing him as a cuddly bear instead of... what he really was.

  Brune took up the reins and clicked his tongue.

  He couldn’t be blamed for it, anyway. It’s not like he’d ever pretended to be good. He didn’t deceive people. They deceived themselves.