Michael Plymel
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The False Hero, Volume 12, Chapter 22 pt2
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 13:58:50 +0000 UTC“And that’s number five.” I send my spear to my [Inventory].
As expected, fighting a large group of Archfiends at once is much more difficult than dueling them one at a time. I ended up taking longer to finish them, while also taking more damage. It’s a lose-lose situation, really.
“You know…” I look around at the five new Archfiends who have me surrounded. “I’m starting to think someone’s trying to piss me off on purpose.”
“Piss wherever you want.” A human-looking Archfiend scowls as he responds. “We’re just here to kill you.”
“I don’t think you really understood what–” I cut off my words to dodge his aggressive attack. “Nevermind, then. [Shardstorm].”
An orb of ice appears just in front of the mouthy Archfiend, spraying lances of ice in every direction. The orb hits him right in the stomach, turning him into a pincushion in a matter of seconds.
His companions take the cue and follow their leader. But by the time their claws get in range, I’ve already vacated the area.
“I’m happy all of you want to play.” I look down on them from my [Air Step]. “But I’ve got other plans.”
I hear them shout, but I ignore their threats and curses.
No matter how much I fight and think, the answer I need isn’t coming to me. Something’s wrong. RAM would never allow the army she commands to lose like this. There’s a piece missing, a piece that not even the Goddess herself can see.
If I want to find that piece, then I have no choice but to go to the source.
“Rhys.” I speak to him through the Party Chat. “I’m going to talk to the Lord of Chaos.”
“Wait.” He sounds understandably surprised and cautious. “The battle is going in our favor. Making such a bold move now could become a disaster if we aren’t careful.”
“I know, but…” I struggle to put to words what I’m feeling. “They’re going to win.”
“What? Do you know how they plan to turn this battle around?”
“No, I have no idea how they’re going to do it. But … I feel as if each second that goes by, our chances of victory grow smaller, not larger. No, I know it. I know that if I don’t do something soon, we’re doomed.”
Silence. No general would want to hear that a lone soldier is going to completely disrupt the battle plan. But I’m not just some distrustful outcast like I used to be. As things stand now, even the heir to the most powerful kingdom in the world has faith in me now.
“Be careful.” Rhys doesn’t give an order, just a warning to be cautious.
“Will do.”
I break from the main battle, leaping high into the sky. Behind me is our main camp, where Rhys gives out his orders. There are various tents and supply stations, along with a small army of soldiers occupying them. Overall, it’s standard practice when conducting a battle.
But to my front is an entirely different scene. There are no tents, no supplies, and no army. Only eleven people–if they can still be called such.
The Lord of Chaos is encircled by ten Archfiends, each bearing a strong resemblance to the race they once belonged to before being turned. Although he only has ten guards, each one can face a squad of our strongest S-Class adventurers and have a chance of victory. In essence, their lord is surrounded by an army in all but size.
However, I don’t get the feeling that the Archfiends are there to protect him. At least, not in the traditional fashion that a retainer protects their lord. Afterall, the Lord of Chaos can defeat a hundred Archfiends, making it ridiculous to think that he would need a mere ten more.
No, it’d be closer to say that they’re servants who stayed behind to offer their lord whatever services he requires during the battle. When the fighting began, there were twelve Archfiends with him, but he’s been using them as needed.
When I land on the grass just out of casual speaking distance, none of the Archfiends attack. Instead, they part, giving me a clear view of their lord.
“Are you enjoying the show?”
“I take no solace in defeating the four races. It is merely a duty given to me by our god.”
“Our god? Aren’t you speaking a little early? We’re winning the battle.”
“A fleeting tribulation, and one that will soon be redressed.”
There’s not a single hint of unease or excitement in his eyes, as if the final battle to determine the fate of the world were a mere inconvenience. None of the other fiends have their emotions suppressed, but the Lord of Chaos is a special case, so it’s possible he’s had his mind altered in ways that I don’t understand.
RAM explained how the mad god had created his own race of monsters–the ones we now know as fiends–in order to enact his plan to take over the Mana Network. She even explained in detail how he installed a magical trojan horse inside the [Curse of the Forsaken] Unique Skill, the same one that afflicted Alisha for a long time.
By activating the trap within that curse, he could transform the unfortunate person into one of his fiends, gaining complete control over them. The stronger the warrior, the higher class of fiend they would transform into, with the most powerful becoming the feared Archfiends.
But the Lord of Chaos isn’t an Archfiend. He’s something different, something unique. His power is so great that even the mad god himself fears losing control over him. That’s not my own conjecture, those were the words of RAM herself.
“I was considering doing you a favor by suggesting we end the battle ourselves.” I shrug. “But if you’re going to act all high and mighty, then you can just stand here and watch your army fall.”
“You do not possess the strength to defeat me.”
“Why would I fight alone? I have six companions who’ve stood with me since my darkest days. You can bring six Archfiends, if you want. They’ll be dead in seconds, but at least it will be fair, right?”
The Lord of Chaos isn’t amused by my tone. “I require no assistance.”
An emotion finally flickers in his eyes. Not anger or frustration at dealing with someone who’s clearly trying to instigate him. Rather, it’s closer to disappointment, directed right at me.
“What? Don’t like my tone?” I poke him further to see what else I can get out of him.
“You are on the precipice of defeat, yet you have come to jest. I am under no obligation to humor you.”
“Sorry for not living up to your expectations, I guess. But aren’t you the same, former High Priest Eldorin? Didn’t you worship the Goddess? Now look at you, being used as the ultimate weapon to bring about her downfall. If anyone should be ashamed, it’s you.”
That one hits home, finally bringing out a flash of anger. Or perhaps, indignation.
“I will not tolerate such insults from a hero who does not even understand that he has already lost.”
“If you were that confident in victory, you wouldn’t be standing here. I know why you won’t join. You’re afraid. No, not you. That mad god. He knows what would happen if you unleash your real strength here.”
“No.” The Lord of Chaos has already squashed all his emotions again. “He knew what would happen, had he commanded my presence on the battlefield too early. Now, that time has passed.”
His ominous words ring in my head. He keeps insisting that it’s too late, that the battle has progressed to the point where their plan is guaranteed to succeed.
It goes directly against the Goddess’ own prediction of how the battle will unfold. That makes it either a bold bluff, or a calculation based on information the Goddess doesn’t have.
If my opponent were anyone but the Lord of Chaos, then I could solve it like I always do–by simply defeating him in battle. Might makes right is still the lay of the land in this world, and I take full advantage of that when needed.
The only problem is that this time…
He’s stronger than me. A lot stronger.
It’s not a case of using skill to overcome the pure number disadvantage between us. The gap is simply too large, no matter if my spearmanship and combat tactics are far superior.
There is a way to close that gap, one that I already used as a weapon in this very conversation–the girls. With their help in the battle, victory becomes possible. We’re keeping Tylith’s ultimate transformation from her new scythe in reserve, just in case we have to fight the Lord of Chaos directly.
We’ve got a dozen other contingency plans, with each of the other girls having their own roles to play in the event it comes to that. But even with all of that, I don’t want to fight the Lord of Chaos.
Because if we do, I can’t guarantee that all of us will walk away with our lives. And in the worst-case scenario, we may even lose. That’s simply how powerful the mad god’s champion is compared to us.
It’s also why we have several other plans to play that would let us avoid such a direct confrontation in the first place. Coming here to talk to him puts some of those plans at risk, which is precisely why Rhys was anxious when he found out what I was going to do.
However, I still need the Lord of Chaos to join this battle. Not as he currently stands–a mere mortal with strength within reach of a level 91 hero like me–but as an avatar of the divine, sent to pass judgement on the servants who are too arrogant to know their place.
That’s the Lord of Chaos I need, not this watered-down version pretending to be so weak and pathetic.
“You’re bluffing,” I say. “If RAM really calculated a one-hundred percent chance of victory, you would have already taken it.”
“I owe you no explanation.”
I feel my own frustrations grow. “Well I’m not going to sit here and let thousands of good men die just because you don’t want to end the battle too early. We both know how this is going to end–with me and you. If you don’t want to be the one to start the fight, then I will.”
I raise a hand, and my spear appears. The Archfiends react immediately, preparing for combat. But the Lord of Chaos doesn’t move a finger.
“Request for combat has been accepted.” RAM’s voice echoes in my mind.
“It’s … accepted?” Hearing them suddenly give in is so unexpected that I have to force myself to shift my thoughts. “You already know what’s going to happen.”
“Granting the Lord of Chaos divine power requires opening a large connection from within the Mana Network to transfer the required energy. The Goddess intends to access that same connection to grant you divine power, allowing you to contest him in a battle of equal strength.”
“Equal? We’ll see about that. But if you already know that I’m going to get the same divine power as him, why’d you wait so long?”
“Your true intent isn’t the divine power itself. That is merely the final step before you achieve your ultimate goal–unlocking your final Heroic Skill. With these eight armies from all over the continent gathered here to witness your ascendance to a god, you hope to inspire their faith and achieve that which you believe will ensure your victory.”
“And your plan is to give it to me? I won’t complain.”
“No. I am saying that my calculations are complete, and any opportunity you had to inspire the faith of the soldiers enough to acquire your final Heroic Skill has already vanished. It is too late.”
“That’s impossible. The Goddess has calculated it and come to a completely different conclusion.”
“The Goddess is incorrect. The morale of your army has fallen too low for a simple show of strength to bring about the miracle you seek.”
“Too low? We’re winning.”
“At what cost? Half of your soldiers are too weak to battle the fiends now that we have enhanced their strength. Those that remain find themselves battling Berserkers who evolve before death, growing stronger each time they’re nearly defeated, until that same soldier now finds himself facing an Archfiend. I have made sure that such scenarios have repeated themselves precisely where it will hurt morale the most, expediting the collapse.”
“What…?” I take a look back, where the four races have the fiends completely surrounded.
Even though it’s been over an hour since the battle lines have collapsed into such a state, virtually no progress has been made afterwards. With even the weakest fiends being able to evolve all the way into an Archfiend, it has made it almost impossible to find a weakness to exploit.
The reason is obvious. RAM is controlling the battle. She’s choosing which fiends evolve and when, maximizing the effectiveness of an already broken ability. With her skill in controlling the Mana Network, such a task wouldn’t just be easy–it’d be so simple that she can essentially set it on auto-pilot.
While I knew that we’d be facing some challenges when RAM stepped onto the battlefield, I didn’t think that her ultimate goal was to demoralize the army to make it more difficult for me to gain their faith.
However, despite having learned all of this, my anxiety begins to fade, not rise.
She doesn’t know? RAM doesn’t know about one of our aces?
Everything she said is true. Every piece. But while RAM thinks we’re making our calculations with limited information, the same can be said for her. Because there’s one piece of the puzzle she’s not accounting for.
“Nothing’s going to change if we just stand here.” I motion to the Archfiend. “Away.”
I get ten scowls in response, but despite how furious they are with me, they obey. At least, that’s what it looks like, even if the truth is that the Lord of Chaos is the one who sends them away.
“It’s unfortunate that it must end this way.” The Lord of Chaos raises his hands from beneath his cloak. “Yet this is the future you wrought with your incompetence.”
Lightning strikes him–or that’s how it feels. A sudden, intense burst of power, coming from the heavens. Not just any power, but that of a god. Divine power, housed in a body of flesh.
The Lord of Chaos was mortal, once. He was a man who could be killed, even by a weak level 91 hero like me.
But that man is gone now. And in his place, stands a god.
Then, that lightning strikes me.
Comments
Michael Plymel
You're welcome~
joel southard
Thank you for the chapter
