Michael Plymel
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The False Hero, Volume 12, Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2025-07-01 23:39:28 +0000 UTCChapter 14
----- Lutz -----
“I’m getting a little sick of seeing you.” My feet hit the ground just in front of a Mutant. “At least use a different form.”
The shape-changing fiend replies with a roar, refusing to swap out of its defense-oriented transformation, despite my request. Most of the Mutants use an offensive form, but when I get near, they always morph, even if they don’t aggro me.
Although it’s only a mid-class fiend, it’s the toughest among them. It’s also the most numerous, besides the low-class Berserker. Along with the high-class Abyss Knight, the three types of fiends make up the bulk of its melee fighting force.
The unaccommodating Mutant takes the full force of my [Gale Stab], piercing the creature right in the chest. Any normal monster with the fiend’s strength would perish, either immediately or soon after.
But Mutants are annoying precisely because they don’t like to die.
“More practice for my one-shot combos, I guess.” I pull my spear free, and the hole in the Mutants chest begins to heal right in front of my eyes. “So I don’t have to deal with your dumb regeneration.”
Two spells appear, one trailing steaming smoke, the other cold mist. The [Fireball] and [Ice Lance] strike the Mutant just as its regeneration kicks in, both spells hitting the fresh wound on its chest.
The resulting explosion clouds my vision, but the blood hitting me gives a hint to how effective the spells are. A third-tier Weapon Skill and two first-tier spells to take down one Mutant would be an amazing feat for a regular soldier, but for me, it’s frustrating that I have to concentrate so much of my firepower on a single mid-class fiend just to take it down.
Especially when…
“Tch. It lived.” As the smoke clears, I see that the Mutant’s regeneration is still healing its wounded body.
If this were a duel, finishing the Mutant would be a casual ordeal. But in war, the enemies won’t just stand by and watch. Right now, no less than five fiends are a mere blink from tearing into me with their claws and teeth.
With a spin, the weapon in my hand blurs. But the pointed tip doesn’t belong to my usual spear. In fact, it’s not a polearm at all.
“[Dominion]!” My chain sickle becomes unshackled from the laws of physics, the mana inside becoming a conduit to my will.
While my weapon seemingly takes on a mind of its own, I dodge the first of many attacks falling on me. The Blighted are an all-around fiend type, able to sit in the back and cast or fight on the front lines, though they specialize in disruption more than dueling.
The tattered robe on its body has been transformed into a deadly scythe, their weapon of choice when engaging in melee. It nearly gives me a haircut as it passes by.
While the scythe blade covers my vision, a Berserker’s claw falls right where I sidestep. Taking the hit won’t be a problem, but I don’t even need to worry about that, as my sickle finds the fiend’s flesh before it can find mine.
The second Berserker, however, is unavoidable. But I knew that when I dodged this direction, which is why I’m able to easily catch the claw with my forearm.
With each attack I thwart, two more appear. With each fiend struck down by my rotating chain sickle, another takes its place before the first body even hits the ground.
More and more enemies, a constant swarm of claws, fangs, and talons. I’ve fought swarms of mobs, ran through battle-happy dungeons, and even helped during the siege of Roshar.
But war isn’t like anything else. An infestation is only as large as the local ecosystem will allow, a dungeon will eventually stop spawning monsters, and the siege made large battles impossible because of all the buildings.
Now, there’s nothing but flat grass and fiends by the dozens of thousands.
A splash of blood hits the dirt. My blood. Even with superhuman reflexes and durability, I’m not invincible. Just like how a raid boss can be taken down by a swarm of weaker players, so too can anyone here on this battlefield meet the same fate, including me.
To avoid getting completely mobbed by the enemies, my feet leave the ground once again, the chain sickle having finished off the original Mutant, along with plenty of others. Though I do leave behind a parting gift to all the fiends who packed themselves tight in their frenzy to take me down.
“[Blood Storm].” I quickly leave the area as a set of dark clouds forms above the enemy.
The unmistakable smell of iron fills the air as the fourth-tier Dark Magic begins raining fresh blood, joining mine and the many fiends who just died.
Leaving that section of the battlefield, I go back to my original position, sandwiched between the two rampaging dragons. Normally, I’d make an explosive entrance like before, cutting down fiends and re-securing my foothold on the battlefield.
However, things can change quickly in war.
“Looks like they’re getting serious.” I stop in the middle of the sky, something that would normally get me swarmed by flying monsters to make gaining air dominance difficult.
There’s no such attack this time, as Archfiends don’t like interruptions from the rank and file.
“We’ve detected unusual movements across the entire enemy army.” Prince Rhys’ voice echoes in my head. “The Archfiends are joining the battle, and their tactics have adjusted accordingly. All anti-Archfiend squads are to prepare for combat immediately.”
I’m not the only one listening to Rhys’ communications. Hundreds of soldiers have been linked, giving him the ability to issue commands across the army in an instant. While it’s not quite at the level of the fiends’ coordination, it’s enough to prevent them from having an overwhelming advantage when it comes to quickly changing tactics.
I’m basically doing my own thing and have my own Party Chat for sharing information from all the way across the battlefield, but it’s still good to stay in the loop.
“Gotta say.” I stand on my [Air Step] above the fierce battle. “I’m kinda surprised they only sent one.”
The Archfiend stands atop his own translucent platform, the thrill of battle evident on his face. “I’m all that’s needed against you. My Lord is tired of letting you do anything you want. You should be glad he let you get away with it for so long already. But now that I’m here, we won’t be tolerating it anymore!”
“You don’t really have to explain it when it’s that obvious.”
The Archfiend raises his offhand, which is covered by a forearm guard that acts as a shield. “It is my responsibility to spread My Lord’s will to all, even those doomed to perish at his hands! If you believed for a moment that this battle will go as you wish, then you’re a fool! My Lord can see through everything, making your little resistance nothing but a futile waste of lives! Lives that would soon benefit My Lord once this war is over!”
“I get it, you’re really passionate. Not really sharing many of your opinions, though.”
He points his blade at me, a scimitar that’s short and lightweight. “My Lord doesn’t care about the opinions of those he deems unworthy. Though perhaps there may still be time for you. Throw down your spear, and swear fealty to My Lord! Only then will you–”
I tune him out as he starts going on a spiel about his lord. Because Archfiends retain a lot of their human personality, each one is different in their own way. At first, I just assumed this one is talkative, but…
A defensive gauntlet, and a quick blade. Only his vitals are covered by armor, the rest is just loose clothing. Definitely a purposeful decision to balance defense and speed.
And will he ever stop talking? He’s not even really saying anything, which can only mean…
…he’s trying to waste my time.
I’m so used to the Archfiends being battle maniacs that I just assumed our fight would start almost as soon as he arrived. Yet he’s still talking.
“...the world needs My Lord to guide it, to show the lesser races how to–” An explosion engulfs the Archfiend, completely drowning out whatever he was saying. Even a lipreader wouldn’t be able to understand him through the blinding light and thick smoke that covers his body.
In the time it takes me to blink, the wind up here in the sky drags that smoke away, revealing the extended arm of the Archfiend, the forearm guard used to block my [Fireball]. He pulls his arm back, singed and still trailing smoke.
“It’s kind of sad,” I say. “You think this great god of yours would think up a better plan than to send you here to stall for time.”
“It’s not your place to speak of My Lord in such a way. You could never match his…”
I simply stop listening. Even as he continues his useless speech, the Archfiend keeps his guard up. I’ve already attacked him mid-sentence once, so he’s clearly expecting me to do it again.
Yet I don’t, something which clearly confuses him.
“...by the grace of his bottomless mercy, My Lord wishes to give you one last chance to–”
“Shut up!” A red blur streaks across the sky. When it’s gone, so is the Archfiend.
Turning, I see that the talkative Archfiend’s mouth is still moving. I doubt he’s still going on and on about His Lord, though. Most likely, he’s throwing curses at Cyl, who snapped him up in her jaw.
“Well, let’s just leave that guy to her. She’s been waiting for a rematch.”
The last time Cyl fought an Archfiend, she wasn’t quite ready for it. Dragons naturally get stronger as they age, as all monsters do. But she’s young, barely an adult. And since dragons need several times more experience to gain a level compared to humans, grinding is a slow process for them.
“Now that I think about it, there sure are a lot of expendable troops here.” I check the battle lines and notice a distinct difference in the quality of enemy units around me, compared to the rest of the line. “It wasn’t like this when the fight began, so they must have been slowly shifting the power balance around while we were focused on the battle.”
I look to my left, where Frei is rampaging. “Frei, let’s leave this area to Cyl and spread out. We’ve been tricked. The enemy’s been sending nothing but fodder at us for a while now.”
Frei, unlike Cyl, maintains a clear mind while fighting. “I had not noticed, but it is as you say. The Abyss Knights have become rare, and I’m starting to tire of fighting these Mutants.”
“Trust me, I agree. I’m heading east, while you go west. Just make a trip down the battle line, prioritizing Archfiends and high-class fiends.”
“It shall be done.” Frei’s massive draconic wings spread out, and a burst of magic lifts him into the air.
While he flies west, I turn east. Dozens of Archfiends have already entered the fray, pushing our army’s most elite warriors to their limit. Even with the enhanced equipment I gave them, there’s still a clear power difference between them and Archfiends.
I leap in massive bounds, each one taking me clear over entire squads of soldiers fighting below. After just a few jumps, I cancel my [Air Step], letting gravity take over. It drags me down, the bodies of the soldiers on the ground quickly growing larger.
Below is a strange sight that can only be described as a dueling arena. Within the swarm of soldiers, right in the center of the battle line where the fighting is fiercest, is an empty patch of grass, containing only the bodies of the men and fiends who fought and died there.
Well, it’s not exactly empty. There are a few soldiers, as well as a single fiend. An Archfiend, that is.
“Leona, now!” A mage shouts from the rear of the anti-Archfiend squad.
“I got him!” Leona’s sword pierces straight through the Archfiend’s back, the tip coming out the front.
Her arm follows, sinking right into the same body, all the way until even her hand pokes out from the Archfiend’s chest. Or rather, the shadow clone that he left before teleporting away.
“Behind you!” The mage shouts.
Leona turns her head, but her body refuses to follow. She had put everything into her attack, knocking her completely off-balance when her opponent ended up being a formless clone.
“I’ll pulverize ya!” The huge, bulking Archfiend brings down his gigantic mace to crush her.
“Grr…!” Leona grunts, swinging her sword to get it between her and the mace, a task that’s clearly impossible.
“[Barrier]!” One of her allies casts Light Magic on her that will absorb a certain amount of damage, but it’s obvious to me that it won’t do much against the full force of an Archfiend’s surprise attack.
Leona’s sword arm stops mid-swing. That’d be normal if she managed to parry the mace, but she hasn’t managed such a thing.
Speaking of the mace, it has stopped too.
“Wah…?” Leona lets out a confused sound.
“Sorry for interrupting your battle,” I say as I hold her wrist. “But things were looking pretty bad.”
“I’ll pulverize you, too–” The Archfiend’s voice cuts out after taking a kick to the midsection.
It’s only enough to send him sliding back, near the edge of the arena-like space he created by ordering the other fiend to stay out of his battle. But it gives me a few seconds, which is all I need.
“I got this.” I release Leona’s wrist. “Regroup with the rest of your anti-Archfiend squad and heal up. After I weaken him, I’ll leave the rest to you.”
“My injuries aren’t severe.” Leona stands beside me, her combat stance fully recovered. “We can fight with you.”
“I know, but there’s one problem. You’ll just hold me back.” A massive explosion covers half my vision as the Archfiend’s Weapon Skill slams into my [Shimmering Shield].
The attack is powerful enough that even an S-Ranked adventurer could be critically wounded if hit directly. Yet the ability couldn’t even make it through my barriers.
Leona readied her sword when the Archfiend sent the attack, but since I’m still just standing here somewhat casually, she doesn’t know what to do with her weapon.
Hmm. I remember that blade. It was good enough that I asked for it to go to someone strong, but I never knew who got it.
Since I had literally thousands of pieces of equipment and items, it was never feasible to follow up on them, except for the very strongest. So, it’s interesting to see who ended up with what now that I’m meeting them on the battlefield.
“Anyway.” I create a breeze, and the remaining smoke from the attack is blown away. “I only need two minutes. After that, he’ll be an easy finish for a party of your strength.”
“Alright, I understand.” Leona lowers her sword and retreats to safety.
Now, the real battles are finally beginning.
Comments
Michael Plymel
You're welcome!
joel southard
Thank you for the chapter
