Parallel Memory

Chapter 649: Aarons Power

The air was heavy—so thick with mana that even breathing felt like swallowing molten lead.

The battlefield within Aaron’s domain pulsed with a red haze, the ground cracked in jagged veins that glowed faintly with infernal light.

The once-sturdy walls trembled with every shockwave of combat.

Mia and Hiro stood at the center of the chaos, their auras clashing with the devil’s crimson force in violent bursts. Every strike, every movement, tore through the air like thunder.

Their team—the proud unit that had once reclaimed entire outposts—now struggled merely to stand upright.

Aaron, the Younger Devil of Muscles, loomed before them. His towering frame rippled with unnatural energy, every motion sending waves of heat and distortion through the battlefield. His skin shimmered like molten obsidian, and from his shoulders stretched wings that pulsed like living magma.

When he moved, the ground itself bent.

Lisa, crouched behind a fallen pillar, pressed her hand against her chest as her healing spell fizzled out before even reaching Hiro. "His mana field’s too dense," she gasped. "It’s... rejecting everything!"

Zion’s voice came from somewhere to her right, strained with frustration. "Damn it, I can’t even land a hit! My sword just—bounces off him like he’s made of steel!"

He swung his blade again, forcing his way through the heat to intercept one of the devil’s side bursts. It clashed against Aaron’s mana barrier, the sound ringing like metal striking metal—no, harder. The force threw him back several meters, skidding across the scorched ground.

"Stay back, Zion!" Misha shouted. "You’re only making it worse!"

"I can’t just stand here and do nothing!" he roared, slamming his blade into the ground to steady himself. His pride screamed at the sight of Hiro and Mia carrying the entire fight, while the rest of them might as well have been ants caught in a storm.

Sylvia gritted her teeth, gathering her mana into a concentrated light arrow. The glow trembled in her hands—her focus shattered by fear, exhaustion, and the sheer pressure of the devil’s presence. "If I can just—"

She released it.

The arrow screamed through the air, cutting through the haze, only to shatter against Aaron’s mana before it even made contact. The fragments disintegrated into golden dust.

Aaron didn’t even look in her direction.

His crimson eyes stayed locked on Hiro and Mia, his voice deep and rumbling. "You two are the only ones worth keeping alive long enough to make this fun."

Hiro’s teeth clenched. "You talk too much."

He darted forward, sword gleaming with wind-infused mana, each strike fast enough to distort the air itself. Aaron blocked with one arm, his muscles tensing like metal cables. Sparks and crimson bursts filled the air.

Then Mia appeared beside him—her aura a sharp contrast of cold and control. Her fist struck Aaron’s side, the frost bursting outward, freezing his molten aura for a fraction of a second.

But that was all they got—a fraction.

The ice melted before Hiro’s next attack could land, and the devil’s counterstrike sent both humans flying backward, crashing into the walls.

Lisa screamed, running to heal them, but the red shockwaves blocked even her light spells. Her magic fizzled against the infernal energy saturating the air.

She fell to her knees, trembling. "My mana’s... useless..."

Misha slammed her palm into the ground in frustration, teeth clenched so tight she nearly drew blood. "There has to be a weak point! Something we can exploit—no defense is absolute!"

Zion, panting beside her, shook his head. "Not against a devil like that. Look at him... he hasn’t even used his full power yet."

Aaron turned his head slowly toward them, his smile wide and cruel. "You’re right, little human. I haven’t."

The temperature spiked instantly. The ground split open as molten cracks spread outward from his feet. His wings expanded, each movement releasing waves of destructive force.

The shockwave struck the team before they could react—sending Sylvia and Zion flying. Misha threw herself in front of Lisa, using a mana barrier just in time to keep them from being crushed under the debris.

For a moment, everything went silent but for the crackling of molten stone.

Hiro pulled himself to his feet, gripping his sword tight. The heat made the blade tremble in his hand, the metal groaning. His armor was cracked, his breath ragged, but his eyes burned fiercely.

Mia stood beside him, frost still clinging to her skin despite the heat, her knuckles bleeding. She had switched from pure offense to control—each movement aimed at suppressing Aaron’s rhythm rather than matching his brute force.

But it wasn’t enough.

Aaron’s every attack shattered the battlefield, forcing them to defend instead of strike. His sheer physical dominance made every attempt to coordinate futile. The rest of the squad couldn’t even approach without interfering—every bit of mana they used only stirred turbulence in the field, disrupting Hiro and Mia’s delicate balance.

Sylvia’s arrows couldn’t pierce.

Lisa’s healing spells couldn’t reach.

Zion’s sword couldn’t land.

And Misha’s barriers barely held long enough to keep them from being crushed.

"Dammit," Misha whispered, sweat streaming down her face. "We’re just... in the way."

Hiro’s voice echoed across the burning arena, rough but firm. "Stay back! If you force mana into the field now, it’ll just disrupt the flow!"

Zion’s hands tightened on his sword. He wanted to argue—but he could feel it too. Their presence, their mana, their desperate attempts to help—it was all interference.

Mia shot forward again, her fist connecting with Aaron’s jaw. The impact froze part of his face momentarily before melting into steam. Hiro followed, slashing diagonally, the wind tearing through the haze.

For a split second, Aaron’s defense dipped.

But then he laughed—a deep, vibrating sound that echoed across the burning battlefield. "So close... yet so weak."

His wings flared, sending both of them reeling.

Zion felt his stomach twist. They’re the strongest among us... and they’re barely keeping up.

Lisa’s voice cracked. "What do we do?!"

No one answered. Because deep down, they already knew.

There was nothing they could do.

The only thing their interference achieved was slowing Mia and Hiro down—forcing them to adjust, to guard, to react. And Aaron knew it. Every time the others tried to engage, his strikes grew more unpredictable, forcing Hiro to divide his attention to keep them alive.

He was using them against each other.

And it was working.

The squad’s morale began to crack like the battlefield beneath them.

Misha pressed a trembling hand to the ground, whispering under her breath, "Think, Misha. You’ve seen worse... you’ve seen strategies crumble and reform. There’s always an answer."

But there wasn’t. Not this time.

Aaron stepped forward, his presence swallowing the space between them. "This is the true difference between strength and delusion." His grin widened. "You fight as one, yet all it takes is one weak link to make you fall."

He raised his clawed hand, and crimson light gathered in his palm—dense, burning, like a newborn sun.

Hiro and Mia stood side by side, ready to meet it head-on.

"Stay behind us!" Hiro shouted.

Mia’s frost surged again, her aura intertwining with his wind. Ice and air formed a spiral, a single concentrated front against the infernal blast.

The team shielded their eyes as the entire chamber erupted in light.

When the smoke cleared, the ground was scorched black, and both Hiro and Mia were on one knee, bloodied but still standing.

Aaron tilted his head slightly, almost impressed. "Still alive... Good. Don’t die too early—I’m still enjoying this."

Lisa’s tears slipped silently down her face as she tried once more to cast a healing spell—only for it to flicker out like a candle in a storm.

Sylvia’s voice trembled. "If this keeps up... they’ll die."

Misha looked down at her trembling hands. "Then we need to find a way."

But the way was fading fast. Because on this battlefield—

They weren’t comrades. They were weights.

And against a devil like Aaron, even a single ounce of weakness could tip the balance toward death.