Parallel Memory

Chapter 543: Rising tension

Mia Frostine’s POV

The fourth day since we secured the outpost began like any other—gray skies, tired soldiers, and silence that clung like fog to the bones. The corrupted haze still hadn’t lifted, though patrols were steady and the reconstruction effort had begun. Each day bled into the next, a loop of drills, reports, and thin meals under thick tension.

Everyone kept busy, but the quiet was deceptive. Beneath it, something else brewed.

That morning, I sensed the shift even before it happened.

The air inside the mess hall felt charged—too still, too thick. Soldiers talked in hushed tones, casting glances at one particular table near the center. The platinum-guild heir, Loren Vance, sat there like he owned the outpost. His sharp uniform was barely wrinkled, his gear polished beyond necessity. Around him sat others from his platoon, most notably two other S-Rankers assigned to be his bodyguard on duty. Their eyes burned with entitlement.

Across the room sat Hiro’s squad. Misha, Zion, Lisa, and Sylvia—all laughing quietly over breakfast trays. Hiro sat at the end, relaxed but quiet, his eyes scanning a report, tuning out the rising noise.

But Loren wasn’t having it.

He slammed his tray down and stood.

"This is a joke," he said, loud enough for every table to hear. "A captain’s rank? For someone like him?"

I paused near the entrance, my tray untouched in my hand. My eyes narrowed.

"You got something to say, Loren?" one of his companions asked with a smirk.

"Oh, I already said it. Just don’t see why someone like me—heir to the Vance Guild, mind you—gets slapped with a soldier’s rank while some backwater guild kid gets made captain."

The room stilled.

"He’s S-Rank. You’re not," someone muttered from another table.

Loren scoffed. "Oh please, it’s one rank! A+ to S? You think that’s enough to command over me?"

My grip on the tray tightened, but I didn’t move Knowing Hiro too well.

Hiro didn’t even lift his gaze. That was his answer. And in truth, I understood it. If he retaliated, it would escalate. The Vance Guild was politically tied to the Authority, sending their heir to ’support’ the war efforts in hopes of strengthening their connection. Loren knew this and wielded it like a weapon.

But he misread Hiro’s silence.

Loren sneered. "Or maybe he’s just scared. What can you expect? Your parents only just made it to Gold Grade. Barely counts as prestige. And her—" he jabbed a thumb toward Misha "—don’t tell me someone like her belongs to the prestigious job of defending the human domain. She would rather be worthy in the entertainment district."

Misha flinched with anger but didn’t make a move, her smile vanishing.

"Say that again," Hiro said quietly.

He was standing now.

The two S-Rankers beside him stood, tension crackling in the air. One cracked his knuckles. The other smiled like he was waiting for a signal. Soldiers around the hall slowly rose from their seats or shifted closer. Some were Loren’s loyalists. Others just wanted to see what would happen.

Misha stood, trembling but composed. Zion placed a hand on her shoulder, whispering something to calm her down. Lisa and Sylvia didn’t move, but I noticed the way Sylvia’s ever ready to take on her bow

Then Loren took one step too far.

Loren blinked, and for a second, I thought he’d back off. But the smirk returned. "I said whore doesnt belong ..."

Before he could finish Hiro’s fist cracked across his face so fast I almost missed it.

Thuuckk***** Loren dropped like a stone, hitting the floor with a stunned gasp. Blood trickled from his lip, and for the first time since arriving, his arrogance faltered.

"Say one more word about her," Hiro said, voice cold, "and I’ll make sure you regret it."

The room erupted.

His supporters surged forward—at least three of them, ready to start a full-scale brawl. Zion stood instantly, Lisa’s aura flared with anger, and Sylvia simply smiled in that terrifying, unreadable way as if she found a prey.

I moved.

A single pulse of mana from me silenced the hall. The temperature dropped. Every footstep halted as my boots echoed against the floor. I walked through the stunned crowd and stood between the groups.

"That’s enough."

My voice cut through the tension like a blade. Everyone froze. Even the ones about to step forward hesitated.

"This isn’t a playground. It’s a war front. You want to test who deserves what? Try living long enough to make that argument in battle."

Loren struggled to his feet, glaring with blood in his teeth. "He attacked first—!"

"After you insulted them," I said sharply. "Be thankful you’re still standing."

He shut up.

But I could feel it. The division hadn’t vanished. Hiro’s side was restless. Loren’s side angry, humiliated, but still haughty. The seeds of discord were there, festering. If left alone, they’d spread.

Then a voice spoke from the back of the crowd—calm, casual, and deceptively amused.

"Why not settle it with an official fight?"

Everyone turned.

Nock Fletcher leaned against the pillar like he’d been there all along. Camouflaged in plain clothes, blending in. A smirk curled his lips. "Rank rules, military rules, they all allow for it. A fair duel, no grudges afterward. I think we’d all feel better seeing if our squad captain lives up to his title."

Loren’s eyes lit up. "I accept." as he had full confidence in his supporters. "It will be a three vs three," he said as he tapped on his two supporters who were S rank.

Hiro and their friends looked at me and I understood.

"You don’t have to prove yourself," I said softly. "But if you want to, do it on your terms."

Since both parties wanted it I could only officiate it.

"Tomorrow. Training field. Noon."

The tension broke, murmurs buzzing through the crowd as the groups slowly dispersed. I watched Hiro walk back to his squad.

Nock approached me as the crowd cleared.

"You planned that?" I asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Nope. But I wanted to see what he’s like now that he’s S-Rank."

"Loren’s not going to take this well."

"No. But if Hiro beats him, the chain of command becomes harder to dispute. If he loses..." Nock tilted his head. "Well, then Loren gets too arrogant and ends up dying on the field. Problem solves itself."

"Brutal."

"Efficient," he corrected with a smirk.

I sighed.

The war wasn’t even at its peak yet, and already, we were fighting on too many fronts—devils outside the gate, politics within the camp.