Parallel Memory

Chapter 701 701: Echoes of Victory, Shadows of Truth

The battlefield outside the collapsing palace had descended into pure chaos.

Humans and devils clashed beneath the endless storm of dust and debris thrown out from the palace interior. The gates—once towering and imposing—were cracked, half-destroyed, the ground torn and rearranged as if a giant hand had crushed it.

But for a moment—

just one brief, breathless moment—

everyone froze.

Because the palace behind them…

was gone.

A thunderous blast had torn it apart from the inside, sending a shockwave ripping through the air. What had once been a fortress of dark marble and ancient mana now stood as a skeleton of ruins and splintered stone.

The elite human forces, battered but alive, turned their eyes toward the wreckage.

"What was that…?"

"Did someone unleash a forbidden spell?"

"No—there was ice… and darkness… mixed together."

"Who could have done something like that?"

Devils shouted orders.

Humans tightened their formation.

But none of them knew what they had just witnessed.

Their minds raced with one shared question—

Who won?

But the battle did not stop.

When the shockwave faded, the surviving devils roared back into the fight. The humans, shaken but fueled by fear and adrenaline, retaliated. For every gap formed by the tremor, someone rushed in to stabilize it. The battlefield once again erupted into blades, spells, and blood.

They didn't have time for answers.

They had to survive.

Mia and Hiro's Group

A burst of light sliced through the air—

then another—

and another.

From the direction of the palace basement, Mia Frostine emerged first, her ice cloak flickering with the last remnants of mana. Behind her, Hiro, Misha, Lisa, and the remaining survivors followed, panting, exhausted—and confused.

The trap door that had sealed them in during Aaron's fight was gone. Aaron's mana had dissolved the moment he fell in battle. Only then did Mia realize the chilling truth.

"We… were locked inside by his will," she whispered. "He wanted to stop anyone from interfering."

Hiro nodded grimly.

"So he didn't want us walking into something worse."

"And he was right," Misha muttered, looking toward the destroyed palace. "What's going on out there…?"

It didn't matter.

Once freed, they sprinted back toward the battlefield.

And the moment they arrived, human soldiers everywhere turned toward Mia—eyes widening, voices rising.

"Mia Frostine!"

"She's here!"

"She returned alive!"

"That ice earlier—was that her!?"

"Did she kill the devil king!?"

Rumors spread like wildfire, fueled by desperation and hope.

"She must have done it!"

"She's the strongest ice mage we have!"

"She took down the devil king!"

"Victory is ours!"

Humans began shouting in triumph, swinging their weapons harder, morale exploding upward at the speed of sound. Their despair had turned into a frenzy of hope.

Mia's chest tightened.

"That wasn't me…" she whispered.

But no one heard her.

Hiro stopped beside her, panting.

"Mia… the palace—"

"I know," she said, voice low. "Zero was there."

Everyone paused.

Only then did they realize someone was missing.

Zero.

The invisible one.

The unnoticed one.

The one who vanished from crowds.

The one who rarely got acknowledged even after saving lives.

And yet—Mia felt her heart drop at the thought of him lying somewhere inside that collapsing ruin.

"We need to go," she said immediately.

Hiro nodded.

Misha stepped forward with a scowl.

Lisa summoned her healing mana.

But the battlefield surged once more.

A devil commander lunged, roaring:

"Do not let them regroup!"

Hiro stepped in front, blades up.

"Mia—go. We'll cover."

Her eyes widened. "But—"

"Go!" Misha shouted, throwing a blast of wind that sent three devils flying. "We'll handle this. You go find him."

For once, Mia did not argue.

She turned and sprinted toward the ruins.

Inside the Ruins

Most of the palace's interior had collapsed completely. The once-grand hallways were buried under stone. The throne room was a wasteland of cracked pillars and shattered architecture. Dust floated everywhere like a fog of death.

And yet, Lifeforce traces remained.

Faint.

Barely detectable.

But present.

Lilith stepped through the drifting haze, her eyes glowing faintly purple as she activated her devil senses. Her footsteps were slow, steady, each one sending echoes across the broken floor.

Her voice trembled.

"…Zero…?"

She had rushed in the moment she sensed the explosion, ignoring the burning in her legs, ignoring the collapsing ceiling, ignoring the fear clawing at her throat. Something had pulled her here—an instinct she couldn't define, something deeper than logic.

She stepped into the heart of the ruins.

And froze.

There—

lying on a chunk of broken stone, body limp, breathing faint—

was Zero.

His clothes were torn, soaked with dried blood. His arms were scorched black from where the mana backlash had burned him. His hair was coated in ash, his skin pale as snow. His chest rose once every few seconds.

Barely alive.

Lilith's heart clenched so hard she couldn't breathe.

She dropped to her knees beside him.

"Zero… Zero!"

He didn't respond.

She touched his cheek.

Still warm—thank gods.

But his mana presence was gone.

Not diminished.

Not weakened.

Gone.

To someone like her, who perceived mana naturally, it was like looking at an empty husk.

"Please…" she whispered. "Don't disappear too."

Her voice cracked.

Her eyes burned.

She clenched her teeth, trying to breathe through the panic rising inside her. But then—

she felt something.

A chill.

A shadow.

A faint, cold pressure brushing against the edge of her senses.

She turned her head.

And there he was.

Aamon.

The devil king stood a few meters away—motionless.

Not breathing.

Not roaring.

Not regenerating.

Just… standing.

Like a statue.

A silent monument to what he once was.

Lilith rose slowly, her knees trembling.

For a moment, she couldn't feel anything from him.

No aura.

No pulse of mana.

No dark presence.

He was empty.

Dead.

But refusing to fall.

Even in death… he remained upright.

Refusing to bow to destiny.

Refusing to kneel to fate.

Refusing to accept defeat.

But Lilith could see it—

the faint cracks spreading across his skin.

the way particles of dark mana drifted into the air.

the way his form flickered at the edges.

He was disintegrating.

Slowly.

Stubbornly.

Defiantly.

Lilith whispered, "…He's still fighting."

Aamon did not move.

His eyes, once blazing with power, had dimmed.

But his posture remained unbroken.

He still stood like a king—even as the wind claimed pieces of him.

A faint whisper echoed from his fading mouth.

"Not… yet…"

Then another layer of his body turned to dust.

Lilith swallowed hard.

She hated him.

She feared him.

She pity him.

All at once.

Because even now—

even at the very end—

the Devil King Aamon still tried to defy the fate written for him.

He refused to fall until his enemy fell with him.

Lilith stood between them—

between a dissolving king and a dying human—

between the truth and the lie the world outside believed.

No cheers here.

No victory.

No glory.

Just the quiet sorrow of a battlefield where destiny had demanded too much from both sides.

As Aamon's final fragments broke away, scattering into the rising wind, Lilith looked back at Zero lying motionless in the rubble.

"Both of you…" she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Why must you fight so hard against a world that refuses to understand either of you?"

The dust swallowed her voice as the devil king's final pieces vanished into the air.

Leaving only silence—

a silence heavy enough to crush a soul.