Parallel Memory

Chapter 667: The Anchor’s Burden

The sword trembled in his hands.

Zero’s knees buckled, frost spreading across the shattered marble floor beneath him. His vision wavered in and out of focus, and for a fleeting instant, he could no longer tell whether the tremors in his limbs came from pain—or from the weight of the world pressing down upon him.

Aamon’s shadow loomed over him, vast and endless, like the sky itself had bent to his will. The Devil King’s wings unfurled, each beat sending ripples through the unstable air. The throne room was barely standing—walls cracked open to the void beyond, the ceiling torn away, the ground below fracturing like fragile glass.

"You’ve reached your limit," Aamon said, his tone calm, almost gentle. "And yet you cling to that blade as if defiance could rewrite fate."

Zero’s head drooped. The frost that had spread to stabilize the world now quivered, thinning, fading. His mana reserves had long since run dry—what held him upright now wasn’t power, but sheer will.

"I’ve... rewritten it before," he rasped.

Aamon’s eyes narrowed. "You truly don’t know when to break."

The devil raised his arm. A black sphere of energy gathered in his palm, humming with destructive potential. The mere formation of it distorted the very air around them, the light bending and twisting.

Zero barely managed to lift his head when the blast came.

It struck him dead-on.

The explosion tore through the chamber, swallowing everything in darkness. The floor beneath him shattered completely, the frost web breaking apart as the entire palace groaned.

Zero’s body slammed into what remained of the wall, his sword clattering away into the void. Blood spattered across the marble. For a moment, he didn’t move. His consciousness flickered—his thoughts splintered into fragments.

But then, amid the roaring collapse, his hand twitched.

He forced his body to rise—slowly, painfully—his breath ragged. Every movement sent agony through his ribs and spine. Yet, he stood. Barely.

Aamon watched him, his expression unreadable. "Why persist? The world has already chosen its end."

Zero’s response came barely above a whisper. "Because I haven’t."

His shadow pulsed again, weak but defiant, and the frost began to reform around his feet—thin, fragile lines stretching outward, like veins of stubborn light refusing to vanish.

Aamon exhaled slowly. "So be it."

He descended, his aura flaring once more. The room shattered further—light and darkness collided in pure, uncontrolled force.

And outside the palace, the shockwave tore across the battlefield.

**************************************

Kaelion’s unit was already in chaos.

The once-unified formation was breaking apart. The vanguards, those who had once held the frontlines with pride, were falling faster than they could be replaced.

Every devil on the field now fought with unnatural vigor—their wounds healed instantly, their speed doubled. Aamon’s awakening had tipped the balance entirely.

Kaelion’s armor was dented, his blade chipped, his cloak torn by flames and claws. He swung his sword in a wide arc, cutting through two devils at once, but even as they fell, another three replaced them.

"Fall back to the ridge!" he shouted, his voice hoarse. "Keep the healers behind the barriers!"

But even his orders were losing their weight; his soldiers were too scattered, too desperate to obey with precision.

A young lieutenant stumbled to his side, bleeding from a deep wound. "Commander—we can’t hold them! The left flank is collapsing!"

Kaelion gritted his teeth. "Tell Seraphine to regroup what’s left of her division and pull them to the center line!"

The man nodded, running off—only to be intercepted mid-step by a devil’s claw. Kaelion moved on instinct, cutting down the creature before it could finish the job. But the soldier was already gone.

The Saintess, still at the rear, was on her knees, her hands glowing faintly as she tried to sustain the holy barrier. Her lips trembled from exhaustion. "Kaelion... I can’t... hold the shield much longer!"

He turned to her, his heart pounding. The barrier shimmered and cracked, fragments of golden light breaking off and scattering into the wind.

"Hold for as long as you can!" he barked. "If the line breaks, we lose everything!"

He turned back to the battlefield—only to see the horizon burn red. The palace itself was glowing, waves of distorted energy expanding outward.

Kaelion froze. His eyes widened as realization struck.

That surge... that was Zero’s mana. Weakening.

"Damn it..." he muttered under his breath. "He’s losing control."

Seraphine appeared beside him, her armor scorched, her once-pristine spear now dull with blood. "What’s happening to the world?" she shouted over the chaos.

Kaelion didn’t answer right away. He could feel it—the ground shifting beneath his feet, as if the entire realm itself was beginning to tilt. Gravity flickered, and the clouds above swirled unnaturally.

Then he saw it—beyond the haze, the faint silhouette of the palace trembling. Beams of fractured light shot upward from its heart, streaking across the crimson sky.

"It’s him," Kaelion said softly, eyes narrowing. "Zero’s holding it all together."

Seraphine looked at him, her face pale. "Holding what together?"

"The world," he replied grimly. "And he’s dying doing it."

********************************************

Farther back in the city, Hiro and Mia were still locked in their own desperate fight.

Aaron was a blur of red and gold, his flames now molten and alive. The walls around them had melted into rivers of glowing magma. Each of his strikes carried the weight of a small explosion.

Hiro’s sword arm shook, his energy reserves draining faster than his system could stabilize. "He’s feeding off it—the collapse itself!"

Mia’s breath came short, her knuckles bleeding. Her eyes darted toward the shaking ceiling. "Zero’s still fighting. I can feel it."

Aaron smirked, his fangs glinting through the heat. "Then your savior dies alone."

He swung his arm, sending a blade of flame straight toward them.

Hiro stepped forward, intercepting it with a desperate Starfall Parry. The explosion sent both him and Mia crashing back, the world spinning.

For a moment, neither could move.

Then Mia forced herself up, trembling, eyes burning with fury. "No," she whispered. "He’s not dying alone. Not while we’re still here."

She raised her arms, her mana flaring white-blue. The Frostfire Dominion unfurled around her, consuming the molten air and freezing the ground in crystalline layers. The sheer temperature shift cracked Aaron’s flames apart, just long enough for Hiro to recover and charge again.

Inside the throne room, Zero’s pulse slowed.

His senses were fading—sound first, then color, then touch. The world was dissolving into fragments.

He barely heard Aamon’s footsteps echoing closer.

"Even now," Aamon said, "you cling to your burden. You think yourself the savior, the anchor of a dying world. But what you truly are... is its chain."

Zero’s fingers twitched around his sword hilt. "Maybe," he breathed. "But a chain... still holds things together."

Aamon raised his hand. The next blow was swift—too swift. It struck like thunder, crashing against Zero’s chest. The force shattered his frost armor entirely.

The impact sent Zero flying across the chamber, his body colliding with a pillar that instantly disintegrated. He hit the floor hard, blood splattering beneath him. His sword fell from his grasp, sliding several meters away.

Aamon stood unmoving as dust settled. "Rest, Zero Elea. The world no longer needs its anchor."

Zero coughed violently, forcing air back into his lungs. His body screamed at him to stop, to give in. But the memory of faces—Lilith, Mia, Aidan, even Kaelion—flashed behind his fading eyes.

He reached for the blade. His fingers brushed the hilt.

And he smiled, faintly. "You’re wrong," he whispered. "The world needs... time."

He clenched his hand around the sword—and for one final moment, the frost beneath him surged again, spreading outwards like veins of ice over the molten cracks.

The world paused once more, trembling between collapse and survival.

Outside, Kaelion felt the pulse again—the faint, stubborn heartbeat of the man still holding it all together.

He raised his sword high, shouting to his soldiers. "He’s still fighting! All units—advance! Don’t let his effort go to waste!"

The exhausted troops roared in unison, rallying behind him one last time.

And as the devil army surged forward like a tidal wave, Kaelion’s forces charged into the storm—desperate, bloodied, hopeless... yet burning with a defiance that refused to die.

*********************************************************

At the heart of it all, amid ruin and silence, Zero stood half-conscious—frozen between life and death. The frost and shadow pulsing from his body grew faint, then dimmer still.

The world’s burden pressed down on him harder than ever, every heartbeat threatening to shatter the fragile equilibrium he had created.

And yet, as his strength waned, his lips moved—forming words no one could hear.

"I’ll hold it... just a little longer..."

And the anchor of the world endured.