The False Hero, Volume 12, Chapter 12

Chapter 12

----- Lutz -----

I raise my hand, protecting my face from a spray of dirt sent flying by a spell that hit the ground before reaching our magical barriers.

Watching the hundreds of spells flying through the sky is a surreal sight. A relentless barrage falls on both sides, hitting the thick layers of [Shimmering Shield] stacked both above our heads and below our feet.

The front is left open, else our own sorcerers wouldn’t be able to shoot back. That leaves a vulnerability in our defenses, but the generals have their own countermeasures.

“How nostalgic.” I raise my arm, and a shield appears, already strapped. “Been a while since I’ve had to block a [Scorching Ray].”

The second-tier Fire Magic strikes the center of my shield, flames licking around the metal edges as if reaching for my flesh. It’s a futile attempt, as I can’t even feel the heat. The first time I blocked the spell like this, it nearly melted my shield. But times have certainly changed since then.

Looking down the line, I see dozens of such beams, each low enough to avoid the barriers over our heads. Like me, other soldiers are blocking them with their shields. With their strength, they won’t be able to stop the fire magic indefinitely, but part of their training is learning tactics to overcome their weaknesses.

A soldier receiving the concentrated fire from three [Scorching Ray] spells reaches his limit. If he were alone, his shield would melt first, followed by whichever part of his armor got hit after, scalding his flesh beneath in the process.

But he’s not alone. He simply steps back, and the man behind him takes his place, a fresh shield to block the three beam spells.

Light flashes across my vision, the clap of thunder following a second later. The [Lightning] spell’s forked path makes it wildly inaccurate at long ranges, but when there’s an entire army on the receiving end, accuracy becomes a suggestion.

A barrage of [Lightning] streaks across the blue, morning sky, imitating a thunderstorm so intense that superstitious listeners would claim that the end of the world had arrived. A bolt even strikes me, likely drawn by my position being so far forward from the rest of the army.

It tickles.

The second one, however, does sting a little.

Although most weapon skills have less range than normal spells, there is one exception to that rule. Nobody in our main party has any bow skills, but armies make great use of them to soften each other up.

The first-tier [Energy Arrow] skill can be seen by the hundreds across the battle line. Extra effective against magical shields, the arrows fall on the approaching fiends, hitting both bodies and barriers alike.

The archers follow with their [Tempest Shot], clearly aiming at the areas where their previous attack had broken through the enemy barriers. The arrows erupt on impact, releasing a fierce wind and growing into a small tornado that rips through the enemy ranks.

Back on Earth, anyone in the direct path of either of those bow skills would be torn to shreds. But with the exception of the low-class fiends like Berserkers and Imps, the rest shrug off the attacks.

I may not have a single bow skill, but I did level up someone who uses it as their main weapon. It becomes very clear when that particular man decides to unleash his most powerful attack on the approaching fiends.

Down the western battle line, Julius and his men are making their stand just like me and the two dragons are here. Among them is Hunter, a strangely melancholic adventurer. But ignoring his personality, he’s one of the more competent and focused people that I’ve leveled up.

So, it’s not a surprise that he’d release his recently-acquired fifth-tier bow skill right when the enemy army gets into range, making him the first one in the final battle to cast the so-called Divine-Class magic.

The arrow Hunter shoots explodes into a lightshow in mid-air, like a firework. But unlike a firework, the [Phantom Rain] bow skill doesn’t just produce a fancy display. The hundreds of small lights are all arrows, their ethereal form glowing with a steady luminescence.

They rain down on the enemy, like javelins of light falling from the heavens. Weaker fiends are simply shredded, and even the mid-class varieties can’t just shake off the damage from a fifth-tier skill.

Yet despite clearly dealing substantial damage over a wide area, it’s just one small dot on this gigantic battlefield. And now that the fiends have gotten so close, the opening salvos are about to give way to a far bloodier barrage of magic.

Within the span of only a few seconds, the enemy army vanishes. They didn’t go invisible, hide themselves, or teleport away. No, they simply can’t be seen because of a sudden burst of spellcasts, creating a wall of magic so thick that it physically blocks the fiends from sight.

[Maelstrom], [Waterblade], [Wind Blade], [Acid Spray], [Flame Wave], [Blood Spray], and many, many more. Nearly every ranged, offensive spell from every school of magic makes an appearance, the only notable exception being the elusive fifth-tier magic.

The enemy isn’t the only one going all-out. The soldiers behind me match them spell for spell, the two volleys of magic crossing paths in the empty space between our two armies.

A [Waterblade] slices a glob of [Acid Splash] as they pass by, only for the blade to vanish into a massive [Fire Wall]. A barrage of [Wind Blade] runs into a raging [Maelstrom], the blades caught in the hurricane-like water and sent wildly off-course. A [Fireball] explodes on contact with a [Shatter] spell, sending bits of flaming rock flying in all directions.

Everywhere I turn my eyes, there are spells. Including my own.

A [Windstorm] rages on the enemy’s frontline, the fourth-tier magic spawning tornado after tornado that rip the fiends to shreds. The effect is so powerful that most spells passing through my storm get caught in the winds and sent in a random direction. It’s great when that direction is right in the face of the fiends themselves.

My sight is completely cut off by a bright, red light. The [Flame Pillar] spell erupted from the ground beneath my feet, but it’s far from the only magic coming my way.

“Guess I should put up a defense.” A translucent, blue barrier envelops me.

The pillar of flame vanishes, as the [Shimmering Shield] even goes below the ground to cut off the fire magic at its source.

My vision returns just in time to see a wall of spells slam into me. Well, not so much me as the barrier that’s protecting me. All the ice, fire, earth, and wind magic are exploding just beyond the thin, translucent shield, creating a kaleidoscopic effect of shapes and colors.

It would be mesmerizing, if it weren’t for the fact that each one of them was meant to take my life.

From inside my barrier, I have a clear view of how the two True Dragons decide to deal with the onslaught of magic sent their way.

To my left, Frei chooses a similar approach to me, putting up a barrier that specializes in defending against magic. He knows that after the initial spam of spells, there will be an opening to exploit.

To my right, Cyl decides that overwhelming force is the best defense. A barrier would only get in the way, so she just releases the full force of her draconic breath, obliterating any spell in its path and washing over the front line of fiends.

The two couldn’t have picked more different strategies, but nobody who knows them would be the least bit surprised.

As expected, the magic attacks clear up after a long wave of bombardments. My [Shimmering Shield] held, but the same can’t be said for some of the others. The fiends haven’t even reached us, and already, men are dead.

Stepping out of my own protective bubble, I release the two spells I’ve been keeping at the ready, [Waterblade] and [Flame Wave].

Fire roars to life at my feet, growing in size and intensity as it rushes toward the oncoming fiends. It’s trailed by a giant blade of water, its edge sharp enough to slice through diamond.

I bat away an [Ice Lance] with the palm of my hand, use my shield to block an onslaught from [Wind Blade], and leap away from the activation of [Impale]. The stone spears from [Impale] give chase, but they’re too slow to catch me.

The spells dwindle further. Part of that is because my two spells just wiped out a bunch of fiends on their front line, but another reason is because we’re leaving the phase of medium-ranged spell flinging and entering the deadliest phase of the battle–a bloody melee.

I catch a [Maelstrom] with my shield, holding back the hurricane-line Water Spell as its sharp droplets batter me. It soon fades, and for the first time since fighting began, it’s not replaced by another magical attack.

This time, a fiend has arrived to finish me off with its own two claws.

“Fine by me.”

The Berserker is as fearless as ever, lunging at me as soon as it thinks its claws can reach me. It’s mistaken. Not because it leaped from too far, but because as soon as it gets in range of my spear, it dies.

It wasn’t long after I was summoned that I fought my first Berserker. Back then, I had to push my skills and tactics to their limits to defeat it. Now they’re just annoying because there are so many of them on the enemy’s front line, and they block me from being able to see the more dangerous fiends.

Fortunately, I don’t rely on my sight as much these days.

A Berserker rushes by me, nearly within reach of my spear. Although fiends have no fear, that doesn’t mean they want to rush to their death. The best way to serve their god is to deal as much damage to his enemies as possible, something the Berserker I took out failed to do.

Thinking about it like that, it makes sense why a Berserker would focus on the soldiers behind me, rather than basically wasting its life attacking me.

With that logic, some may think it strange that the first Berserker would do exactly that. But even if none of its claws managed to reach me, it did force me to attack. Keeping me busy has a certain amount of value to them, so there’s no way they’d just avoid me and let me do as I please.

Leaving the Berserker to the soldiers behind me, I take on my next challenger, a Mutant. It’s the most annoying mid-class fiend to deal with because they can change their shape and properties to match the battle.

A huge, hammer-like fist to break shield lines, twin bladed arms and a slim frame to chase and outmaneuver, and in the case of the one attacking me, a thick and tough body with enhanced regeneration for when they’re facing someone tough.

“Guess I should use some skills, too.” My spear blurs. “[Crescent Wave]!”

The first-tier spear skill is often seen as a disruption ability, as the damage is secondary to the knockback effect, which helps keep opponents at optimum spear range.

But I’m level 91, with every skill on my spear tree maxed out at rank 5, save for the final one that requires level 95 to max. There’s nobody in this world with a stronger [Crescent Wave], turning what’s normally a disruption ability into a deadly attack.

Even a charging Mutant can’t break through my first-tier spear skill, its tough body sliced to ribbons as its momentum is reversed, carried back by the wave of energy. As strong as my [Crescent Wave] is, it’s still a first-tier skill. Although it stops the Mutant’s charge, it can’t finish it off by itself.

That’s where magic comes in.

“[Wind Blade].” Several arcs of wind chase the Mutant, slicing through its thick skin and cutting it down.

“[Maelstrom].” A second spell follows the first, the hurricane-like water crashing into several more fiends just behind the Mutant.

The first time I used [Maelstrom] against a Berserker, it basically ignored it. But the one raging in front of me can’t be compared to the little whirlpool from before.

Fiends rush by me, the main bulk of their army having finally arrived. Thousands and thousands of them, only a few long strides away from the line of shields and spears that make up our defenses.

For a brief second, my [Maelstrom] holds even the charging fiends back, creating a small pocket of grass in front of me. It lasts less than a second.

With a crash, an armored boot breaks straight through the [Maelstrom], as if it didn’t care one bit about a spell powerful enough to stop even mid-class fiends in their tracks.

Standing at over twice my height, the Abyss Knight walks right into the pocket of grass. Armored in full plate and carrying a warhammer bigger than my body, the fiend is a terror on the battlefield, requiring some of the strongest warriors in the four races’ armies to take them down.

Making up one of the two high-class fiends, the Abyss Knight acts as their ultimate front-line unit, crushing entire squads of soldiers by itself. Until now, they’ve been a rare sight on the battlefield. Today though, there are hundreds.

“One less, soon enough.” I ready my spear, preparing for the first real fight of this battle.