Parallel Memory

Chapter 677: When the Heavens Tremble

The morning that followed wasnʼt a sunrise—it was a flicker of gold buried beneath choking clouds of ash. The air was heavy with dust and blood, thick enough to sting the eyes and burn the lungs. Every soldier who still stood could feel it—the trembling of the world beneath their boots.

Kaelion stared across the shattered plain from what was left of their command ridge. The Saintessʼs barrier had been stretched thin, its light now faint and unsteady, like the last glow of a candle fighting the wind. Below him, the surviving forces of the vanguard were reorganizing into battered lines, tending to the wounded, salvaging weapons from the fallen.

Behind him stood Nock, Seraphine, Darien, and the Saintess herself. None of them spoke at first. There were no words strong enough to soften the sight before them.

The Devil Kingʼs palace loomed on the horizon—unchanged, untouched, and worse yet, alive. From its base, a black tide was pouring forth. The devil army, once scattered and wounded, now moved with terrifying precision. Columns of armored beasts, winged elites, and shadow-cloaked generals marched in perfect rhythm, their banners glowing faintly with Aamonʼs sigil.

It wasnʼt a march of war anymore. It was an execution order.

Kaelionʼs hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. The blade hummed faintly in response, reacting to the tension coursing through him. ”Theyʼre not chasing us,” he said finally, his voice low, grim. ”Theyʼre advancing. This isnʼt pursuit—itʼs conquest.”

Nockʼs face was pale as he traced runes into the dirt, measuring mana fluctuations. The readings made his hands tremble. ”Their energy output… itʼs growing with every step. Itʼs like the ground itself is feeding them. If they reach the frontier, everything between here and the Holy City will burn.”

Seraphine spat onto the ground, her knuckles white around her halberd. ”We canʼt stop that. Not like this.”

”Then we buy time,” Kaelion said, turning to face them. ”Enough time for the reinforcements from the northern front to arrive. Enough for the Saintess to restore her divinity and rebuild the barrier.”

Darien, his armor cracked and his face streaked with dried blood, shook his head. ”There are no northern reinforcements. We lost contact two days ago. The devils breached the eastern corridor near Fort Avaris. If Aamonʼs forces are already moving here…” He swallowed hard. ”Thereʼs no one left to call.”

Silence followed.

The Saintess—her robes now torn, her light faint but still beautiful—stepped forward. Her voice trembled, but her eyes held firm resolve. ”Then we must stand here. Even if this ridge becomes our grave.”

Kaelion didnʼt argue. For once, even he had no words of reassurance left.

The ground quaked again—stronger this time. The air rippled as something massive stirred in the distance. And then, faintly, across the ashen plain, they saw it: a colossal shadow rising behind the devil army.

It wasnʼt Aamon.It was something else—an enormous figure clad in crimson armor, its form barely visible beneath the distortion of heat and mana. A high-ranking general, no doubt, sent ahead to break the remaining defenses.

Seraphineʼs eyes narrowed. ”Thatʼs not just a general. Thatʼs one of Aamonʼs royal guards.”

Kaelionʼs expression hardened. ”Then heʼs the vanguard of their next wave.”

He turned to Darien. ”What of the relic?”

Darien pulled it from beneath his cloak. The sacred relic pulsed faintly, its light erratic, weaker than before. ”The Popeʼs power inside it is fading. It wonʼt last much longer outside the Holy Domain. If we use it now, it might burn out completely.”

Kaelion nodded. ”Then we wait until it matters.”

He looked out again—at the distant army, at the darkened horizon. He could see the shape of the world breaking apart, piece by piece. The sky shimmered with faint distortions—remnants of shockwaves still bleeding from the throne room where Zero and Aamon fought, though no one here yet knew the cause.

The heavens themselves trembled. The cracks of light above them resembled torn glass, glowing faintly blue before fading.

Seraphine noticed it too. ”The sky… itʼs splitting again.”

Nock looked up, horror dawning on his face. ”Thatʼs no storm. Thatʼs spatial distortion. The battle inside the palace—itʼs reaching out here.”

Kaelionʼs jaw tightened. ”Then we hold. If the world itself is about to fall apart, weʼll make sure weʼre still standing when it does.”

He raised his sword high, its blue light igniting the ridge like a beacon. ”Form the wall!” he bellowed. ”Archers to the rear! Barrier units, front and center! Every second we stand is a second the world can still breathe!”

The soldiers below, weary and broken as they were, rallied once more. Shields locked, blades steadied, chants began to echo through the ranks. The Saintess lifted her staff, channeling what remained of her divinity into the barrier that shimmered faintly over them.

The devil army began its advance.

The first wave struck with the force of a thunderclap—massive beasts crashing against the barrier, claws raking through the air. Explosions of black flame tore through the front line, and Kaelion met them head-on, his blade carving through the darkness like lightning through storm clouds.

Seraphine leapt into the fray beside him, her halberd cleaving through horns and steel. Nockʼs chants filled the air with light, divine bolts raining down to burn through the devilsʼ ranks.

And still, they kept coming.

The crimson-armored general stepped forward at last, towering over the chaos. His voice echoed like thunder, speaking in the devil tongue. ”Your world ends here, humans. Your light dies at the gates of Perdition.”

Kaelion pointed his sword at him. ”Then letʼs see which burns out first—our light, or your shadow.”

The general laughed, and the heavens shook again.

From high above, a massive shockwave rippled outward—blue and white colliding in the distance. Everyone paused, even the devils, as the sky cracked open once more.

Kaelion looked up, heart pounding. He didnʼt know it, but what he was witnessing was the echo of Zeroʼs clash with Aamon—two powers so immense that their fight had reached the heavens themselves.

The Saintess fell to her knees, clutching her chest. ”That energy… itʼs the same one from before. Itʼs… him…”

”Who?” Seraphine shouted over the noise.

The Saintess didnʼt answer. Her gaze was fixed skyward, her lips trembling.

The world groaned again, a deep, dreadful rumble spreading across the plains. The horizon itself seemed to warp under the pressure.

And then came the sound—distant but unmistakable. A roar that wasnʼt human, wasnʼt divine. Something between.

Kaelionʼs heart froze. ”What was that…?”

Nockʼs voice shook. ”Whatever it was—itʼs not of this world.”

The heavens trembled once more, and the battle resumed, fiercer than ever.

The devils surged forward with renewed fury, the vanguard met them head-on, and amidst it all, Kaelionʼs thoughts drifted only to one truth—this wasnʼt the end of the war.

It was the moment the world itself began to fracture beyond repair.