Parallel Memory

Chapter 569: Zero learns about Aamons Plan

The days bled together after that first encounter in the streets—the one where I saw Mia Frostine and the others vanish into the arena’s shadows. I should have walked after them. I should have stopped them and asked what they were doing here, this deep inside the devils’ capital. But I didn’t. Instead, I pulled Lilith with me, away from that scene, into the city’s veins where whispers carried better than swords.

I told myself it was because we had a mission. The former Devil King was our only target. That was what mattered. Nothing else.

But no matter how many steps I took through alleys and taverns, the weight of Mia’s gaze followed me. Even now, I could still feel it cutting into me, sharp and unrelenting, like no mask I wore could ever hide me from her eyes.

"Your concentration is slipping," Lilith whispered one night. We crouched in the shadow of a courtyard garden, pretending to be nothing more than two nameless wanderers. Her disguise made her look like a normal devil—black hair, amber eyes,—but to me, she was still Lilith the beautiful goddess. She would always be herself, no matter the mask.

"I’m fine," I told her, though the stiffness of my jaw betrayed me.

She didn’t press me further. She knew better than anyone how tightly I wrapped myself in silence.

It wasn’t until the third night that we finally heard what we were looking for. A group of low-ranked devils were drinking themselves blind in one of the seedier taverns. Among them was a foot soldier too eager to impress, too drunk to measure his words. Lilith and I kept to the far corner, cloaked in quiet, while the soldier bragged with a voice that carried.

"...Lord Aamon’s plan is perfect," he slurred, spilling ale as he spoke. "The humans will walk right into it. That building—the arena? It’s not for sport. It’s a trap. They’ll be locked inside, surrounded by us. And while they waste their strength on endless waves, the real strike comes from above."

He raised his cup and pointed toward the balconies. "The high-rankers in the seats. Once the humans are worn down, they’ll swoop in and wipe them all out. No survivors. None of them will crawl out of there alive!"

The table roared with laughter, devils pounding their mugs in cruel delight. They were already celebrating a victory that hadn’t happened yet.

And my heart dropped.

The arena. That was where Mia and the others had gone.

I met Lilith’s eyes across the table. She didn’t need to say a word. The look was enough.

Aamon. Of course it was him. The layers of deception, the cruelty hidden inside elegance—this was his way. His traps were never simple. They weren’t meant only to kill, but to break the enemy’s will long before the final strike came.

For a long time after the drunk collapsed onto the floor, I sat in silence. My mind kept circling back to the same fear. Was this the original path of the story, or had my interference already changed it? Was this how it was meant to unfold, or was Aamon adapting because of me?

Either way, it was a disaster.

The first day of the ambush came. Lilith and I perched inside a half-ruined bell tower, high enough to see into the arena. The stands were filled with tens of thousands of devils, their roars shaking the stone walls. In the pit below, the humans—my friends among them—were forced to fight.

Steel rang against steel. Fire and ice split the air. From our high vantage, I could make out their faces, the strain already showing in every movement. Zion’s blade cut sharp arcs. Lisa’s arrows streaked like comets. Sylvia’s shield caught blows that would have shattered bone. And Mia... Mia was a storm of ice and fury, but beneath that strength I saw her chest heaving, her steps growing heavier.

My fingers dug into the stone ledge of the tower until it cracked under my grip. Every instinct screamed at me to leap down, to tear through the soldiers swarming them. But I forced myself still. This was only the first day. If Aamon’s plan was as the soldier described, the high-rankers wouldn’t act yet. My friends could survive foot soldiers. They had to.

I repeated that lie until the sky dimmed and the first day ended.

But the second day told a harsher truth.

The humans entered the arena again, their bodies sluggish, their eyes rimmed with exhaustion. There was no rest for them, only more waves of enemies.

"They won’t last," Lilith murmured beside me. Her disguise flickered in her frustration, amber bleeding back to silver in her eyes. "Not like this. They’ll break before the sun sets."

"I know," I said. My voice came out low, raw.

Above the arena, the high-ranking devils sat in their seats, patient and hungry. They didn’t need to move yet. The humans would collapse soon enough, and then the slaughter would begin.

I couldn’t allow it.

The darkness inside me stirred, coiling through my veins like smoke. It wanted out—it always wanted out—but for once, I didn’t fight it.

Lilith met my gaze. She understood. She always did. With a small nod, she gave her answer: we would act.

We moved as one.

Dropping into the arena with a burst of mana, we landed hard enough to draw every eye. Gasps rippled through the devils. The humans froze mid-swing, staring wide-eyed at the sudden intruders cloaked in shadow. Both sides were thrown into shock, but that was the opening we needed.

The high-rankers didn’t even have time to shout orders. I was already moving. My blade carved through the first of them, my dark energy lashing out like a storm. It ripped through flesh and armor alike, unstoppable, merciless. Beside me, Lilith’s power bloomed. She raised her hand and condensed the darkness into a blinding beam. The energy tore through a devil before he could even rise from his seat, burning a hole clean through him.

They were strong—stronger than the soldiers below—but against us, they crumbled. Some tried to mount defenses, their mana flaring bright, but it wasn’t enough. My sword shattered through shields. Lilith’s beams pierced through barriers.

One by one, they fell.

The strongest of the high-rankers collapsed in silence, their screams cut short. Blood painted the seats that had once been filled with smug pride. The cheers of the crowd died into horrified whispers.

I stood in the shadows, my chest heaving, my blade dripping blackened blood. Lilith was beside me, her silver eyes sharp, her breath steady despite the destruction around us.

We had done enough.

Before the humans could approach, before they could see too clearly what we were, we vanished back into the city. Two figures swallowed by the dark.

From above, the battlefield had changed. Only the foot soldiers and a handful of mid-ranked devils remained. The humans, no longer crushed beneath the weight of the stronger ones, fought with renewed fury.

They would survive now.

And from the safety of the shadows, I let out a long sigh. In this whole battle of Aamon’s carefully crafted plan, Lilith and I alone stood as the variable he had not accounted for, as the soldiers he had sent after Lilith reported her dead to the Lord.

Taking out the high-ranked devils had been enough. It had to be. I couldn’t reveal more—not the full extent of my power, not the dark energy that would mark me as something worse than a traitor. If the humans saw it, if they thought me a devil contractor, then I would become their enemy as quickly as any devil in that arena.