Parallel Memory

Chapter 546: Mishas Resolve

Delta Outpost – Midday

The sun didn’t rise much over Delta Outpost. It loomed instead—like a distant god half-interested in shining its light on a battlefield that barely mattered. Shadows clung to the walls of the watchtower, and the corrupted mists still curled around the edges of the outpost’s barricades. Yet the central training field was clear, swept of ash and debris, marked with fresh lines of white chalk.

A makeshift arena.

Word had spread quickly. Soldiers, mercenaries, and even healers who rarely stepped out of the medical tents had gathered along the perimeter. The promise of a fight—especially one involving a platinum guild heir and a newly ascended S-rank—was more than enough to stir up excitement.

But for Hiro and his team, it wasn’t about the crowd.

It was about what the fight represented.

Inside the eastern barracks, the air was tense.

Zion stood by the window, arms crossed, watching the gathering crowd. Lisa paced nearby, her steps calculated and quiet. Misha, in contrast, tapped her fingers against her knees while sitting on her bunk. Sylvia leaned against the far wall, polishing her staff, gaze distant.

Hiro finished strapping on his light armor and turned to face the others.

"Still think we should all go?" he asked, half teasing.

Lisa smirked. "Let’s just say I’m not ruling it out if things go south."

Misha stood. "You sure about this, Hiro? I’m not exactly the best at holding back when it comes to people like Loren."

"I’m sure," he said, his tone firm. "He made it personal—with me and with you. It only makes sense we’re the ones to end it."

Sylvia gave a nod. "I get the logic. But don’t underestimate him. He’s not strong because of talent—he’s strong because he’s had the best training money can buy, every day of his life. That kind of polish can catch you off guard."

"I know," Hiro said. "That’s why I want you three to stay as backup. If things go wrong..."

"They won’t," Zion interrupted. "But we’ll be watching."

With that, the five of them left the barracks and made their way to the field.

The walk felt longer than usual.

Soldiers stepped aside. Whispers followed them. Some saluted. Others just stared.

But no one spoke to them directly—not out of disrespect, but because the tension was thick, the anticipation palpable. This wasn’t just a match anymore. This was a clash of principles.

When they reached the edge of the arena, the other team was already waiting.

Loren Vance stood at the center, his silver-gilded armor gleaming beneath the pale sun. His two loyal supporters—Garn and Ryker—flanked him. Both were S-rank. Both were eager to prove themselves. And both had the look of predators who’d already chosen their prey.

Loren, however, wore a smirk.

The kind that screamed entitlement.

"You showed up," he said, raising his hands mockingly. "And you even brought your little golden puppy with you."

Misha’s fists clenched.

Hiro stepped in front of her. "Save it for the match."

Loren tilted his head, eyeing the rest of Hiro’s team. "Oh? Only two? You sure you don’t want your diamond-ranked babysitters to step in for you? I’m sure Lisa or Sylvia would love to hold your hand."

Sylvia snorted. "If I did, you wouldn’t be standing."

A ripple of laughter echoed from the nearby crowd.

Loren’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped back as an officer moved to the center of the field—an older soldier with burn marks across his jaw and a permanent scowl.

"Three vs. three," the man barked. "Victory is decided when one side is rendered unable to continue or yields. Understood?"

"Understood," Hiro and Loren both replied.

The officer nodded. "Then step forward."

Hiro turned to his team once more. "Let’s finish this."

Misha gave a grin. "With pleasure."

They stepped onto the field.

The chalk lines felt like a gate. Crossing them was more than entering a ring—it was stepping into a test. Of power, of control, of principle.

On the far side, Loren cracked his knuckles. "This is the last time someone like you gets to stand on equal footing with me."

"And here I thought the military was all about equality," Hiro replied coolly.

Loren’s smirk twitched.

As the wind stirred faint dust across the arena floor, Misha flexed her fingers. Her heartbeat was steady, breath calm—far too calm for someone about to face three opponents. But she wasn’t nervous. If anything, she was... bored.

She’d been gauging them all morning—Loren, Garn, Ryker. Rank S or not, they moved with arrogance, not control. Their auras were loud, like children banging pots to prove they were strong. Loren was the worst offender. All pomp and pride, hiding brittle self-esteem behind polished armor and a platinum lineage.

Misha instinctively knew she could take them all. Not in theory, not out of hopeful bluster—she knew. Her instincts, honed through real battlefield experience, told her as much. But she didn’t voice it. Saying so would make her sound like a braggart, and it’d probably spark an argument among the team. Lisa might challenge her on it. Sylvia would give a long, thoughtful stare. Zion would raise a brow. Hiro might frown and call it reckless.

So she held her tongue... until her boots crossed the chalk line.

A few seconds before the officer could lower his hand, she turned slightly, her voice low but clear.

"Hiro," she said, glancing at Hiro, "Can I go alone?"

He blinked. "What?"

"I’ll fight Vance. One-on-one. He’s the problem, not his followers."

Hiro opened his mouth, then paused. He didn’t hear arrogance in her tone—only clarity. He looked at Vance, who was already staring back, his smirk twitching again.

"I thought this had become a two-on-three," Loren scoffed, though the corners of his mouth curled up. "But... if she wants to face us alone—" he chuckled, throwing a glance at Garn and Ryker, "Makes it way easier."

He didn’t say the truth: that he had originally been targeting Misha. She seemed like the easiest pick in his eyes—the one without a lofty name. But after her fiery stare and Hiro’s calm confidence, he had second-guessed himself. Now, he had the excuse he needed.

Hiro felt a Déjà vu and was reminded of himself at the academy against the seniors with Zero but calmly let her know, "I will be here if you need any help."