From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 212: The Wildcard Effect

Chapter 212: The Wildcard Effect

Meanwhile, Micah had just wrapped up his round with Archie. He rotated his wrists a few times as the next match was announced.

***Third Round: Micah & Darcy vs. VeteranComeback***

DarkLegend: Mid lane/ Kassadin

FrostbiteAshe: Support/ Sona

Opposing team:

BuddyBlaze: Mid lane/ Lux

WildcatVoyager: support/ Seraphine

As soon as the loading screen faded and their characters sprawled in, Micah felt a wave of calm settle over him. He glanced to his side, Darcy sat still, eyes focused, hand poised on his mouse like a pianist about to strike a key.

Micah’s lips quirked slightly. He didn’t need to speak. Darcy already knew what to do.

The game began with a slow start. Standard lanes. Micah’s Sona weaved in and out of vision gracefully, poking at Seraphine and healing whenever they took damage. He danced just out of reach, keeping his ADC alive with small, perfect movements. Darcy’s Kassadin, meanwhile, farmed silently, avoiding flashy trades, timing every last hit like clockwork.

They didn’t talk much. They didn’t need to.

Darcy stayed patient. His fingers clicked in a slow, steady rhythm. He barely reacted when he missed a minion. His eyes just flicked to the timer, then back to the wave. Calculating. Waiting.

Micah leaned slightly to the side. "Almost six," he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Darcy nodded once.

Then, it happened.

Level six. The Riftwalk unlocked.

Micah caught Seraphine with a well-timed slow near the river brush. The enemy duo stepped up, too far. They didn’t expect the sudden snap in movement.

Micah’s ultimate dropped like a curtain, Sona’s Crescendo flashing across the screen in a grateful arc. Both Lux and Seraphine froze in place, stunned mid-step.

In the very next heartbeat, Darcy’s Kassadin blinked forward with a Riftwalk, landing right between them. His spells burst like thunder. Lux vanished first, gone before she could even cast a shield. Seraphine tried to flash away in panic, but Micah chained her with his Q.

Darcy didn’t hesitate. He Riftwalked again and finished her cleanly.

The coordination was clean. Satisfying.

They glided through rotations, contested objectives with ease, and by the 13-minute mark, the other duo was floundering behind in both farm and kills. Their nexus fell without much resistance.

When the victory screen blinked up, Micah leaned back with a satisfying smile, cracking his knuckles.

Outside in the Arena, the commentator exclaimed sharply, "What a breathtaking performance! That was beyond expectations. Even though DarkLegend is a gold-ranked account, his precision and movement in this match looked Emerald level at least! Who is this guy?"

The female announcer chimed in. "And the way those two pulled off the Riftwalk, just wow! That combo isn’t easy to pull off. It requires careful mana management or a Tank like Taric with Bastion 4, maybe Soraka to keep Kassadin alive if he dives too hard. Most players use Targon unit champions for healing amplification, which makes Kassadin’s 30% cast-based healing absolutely insane, especially when each cast is dealing 1-2k damage per target hit. But here, we saw they used a mage support like Sona and still made it work."

"This is truly remarkable," the other commentator agreed.

Back in the SilverBlade section, Micah and Darcy queued up for a few more rounds, falling into an easy rhythm. They tested different champions, Zyra and Ekko, Thresh and Ahri. Each game added to their momentum, and by mid-afternoon, they had climbed into the finals round.

As the round wrapped, a short break was called.

Micah stood up and stretched his arms over his head. His shoulders popped audibly. He winced and rubbed his neck, mumbling. "Ugh. I need to exercise more."

His eyes drifted toward the rest of Archie’s team, Elijah, Lulu, Flinn, and Zian. They were gathered near the snack table, chatting softly between sips of bottled soda. None of them had said anything to him since the tournament began, and frankly, he hadn’t been very approachable this morning.

Now, with the worst of the tension behind him, he exhaled and walked over.

As soon as they noticed him approaching, the group fell into silence.

Micah stopped a short distance away, rubbing the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. "Hey... uh. About this morning. Sorry. I was a bit snappy..."

Lulu blinked, then gave a small grin. "No worries. We were surprised, sure. But I am guessing there was a good reason behind all that bickering. Don’t stress it."

She held out her hand cheerfully. "I’m Lulu, by the way. That’s my boyfriend, Zian."

Micah shook her hand, then gave a small nod to Zian. "Micah. And..." he turned slightly, gesturing toward the corner where Darcy sat, headphones draped around his neck, eyes closed. "That is my friend, Darcy."

He hesitated for a moment, then added, "Umm, would you mind keeping quiet about his main account? He has got a lot going on already. I’d rather he not get hounded by scouts."

Lulu gave him a wink. "Sure. We know how to keep secrets."

"Do you want to check the online discussion about us?" Flinn offered, pulling out his phone.

Micah shook his head. "Nah. I’d rather stay focused. I’m sure I’m getting roasted."

Flinn opened his mouth, hesitated, then looked at Elijah.

Elijah gave a small shake of his head.

With a silent understanding, Flinn tucked his phone back into his hoodie pocket.

The truth? It wasn’t like Micah had pictured. It was the opposite. The online community was lit up with curiosity and excitement. Fans were dying to know who this mysterious FrostbiteAshe was, this unknown support who had somehow made the infamous Archie play from the earliest elimination round.

Archie, who usually never touched anything below the five-player finals.

To them, FrostbiteAshe was the catalyst. The mystery. The wildcard.

And now that same FrostbiteAshe had climbed to the finals again, this time with DarkLegend, an account many suspected was no amateur either.

People loved it. The mystery. The sudden appearance. The clean plays.

FrostbiteAshe wasn’t just a filler. He was a highlight.

Micah had no idea.

Micah turned, starting to walk toward the hallway exit for some air, but before he got more than a few steps, two figures rushed up on either side of him. Elly grabbed his right arm. Russell clung to his left.

"Huh? Hey, what’s happening?" Micah stumbled slightly, looking between them. "What is the meaning of this?"

Russell laughed nervously. "Where do you think you’re going? Trying to sneak away, leaving us without support?"

"Not happening!" Elly added firmly, tightening her grip.

"What are you two squabbling about now?" Micah looked left and right, baffled.

"Come on," Elly said, trying to nudge him back toward the gaming area. "Just stay put for now."

"No. Tell me why first," Micah narrowed eyes.

Russell sighed, shoulder slumping. "Fine. I didn’t want to say this, but... the SilverBlade fans outside? They are scary wild. We don’t usually go out after the tournament starts because of how crazy they get."

Elly nodded. "We’re just looking out for you, okay?"

"You could’ve just said that...no need to grab me like I’m some runaway criminal..." Micah mumbled, brushing his clothes, and made his way back to his seat beside Darcy.

Elly and Russell watched him return, wiping their foreheads in relief. "So close..."

Elijah walked past and patted their shoulders. "Good job. If he stepped out right now, the fans would have eaten him alive."

"Yeah," Russell agreed, looking back toward the door. "Let’s keep him grounded until the finals are done. We worry about the fallout after that."

The group nodded in quiet agreement.

Frosty’s appearance with Archie had caused a sensation out in the arena. Then somehow the bet story had been spread like a wildfire in the crowd. The consequences? Unimaginable.

They all remembered how Micah first appeared in front of them. Completely covered from head to toe, clearly uncomfortable with showing his face or even his hair.

The obvious move would have been to tell him what was happening. But in just a short time they had known him, one thing was clear: Micah had a short temper. What if he exploded and ended up punching their captain? No one could say for sure that he wouldn’t.