Parallel Memory

Chapter 702: The Hollow Victory

The palace had fallen silent.

Not the peaceful kind of silence—no, this one was sharp, ringing, unnatural, like the air itself was holding its breath after witnessing something too overwhelming to process. Dust drifted through the shattered sky in lazy spirals. The great structures of the devil kingʼs domain—once towering, once oppressive—now lay crumbling and broken as though the very idea of a throne had been rejected by the world.

And outside the palace gates…

Chaos continued.

Steel clashed against twisted claws.

Cries of dying soldiers mingled with the shuddering roars of devil reinforcements.

The ground trembled from lingering shockwaves.

The elite vanguards had spilled more blood than they could count, and they were still fighting because no one dared to stop—not until the last devil fell.

Then it happened.

A roar of cold energy surged from deep within the palace, storming through the battlefield like a frozen hurricane. Blue-white frost spiraled in the sky; black-purple shadows swirled beneath it. A thunderous boom split the devil domain into two horizons of devastation.

Every human froze.

Every devil faltered.

The palace…

exploded.

Walls collapsed.

Pillars snapped.

The throne chamber disintegrated in a burst of Yin and Yang mana so dense the shockwave rolled across the plains like a divine decree.

For several long, breathless seconds—

no one moved.

No one spoke.

The entire battlefield stared at the palace ruins in awe, terror, or disbelief.

Even devils couldnʼt hide their fear.

What monster unleashed that?

What ancient calamity had awakened?

Humans couldnʼt hold such power—could they?

But humans… they responded differently.

Whispers spread.

Then shouts.

Then cheers.

”Mia Frostine…!!”

”It must be her!”

”Her ice magic—only she could create something like that!”

”Mia defeated the devil king! Weʼre saved!”

The more they shouted, the truer it became in their minds.

The elite vanguards didnʼt understand what they had felt earlier—Zeroʼs ice wasnʼt ordinary ice, and the Emperorʼs shadows werenʼt something any human could replicate. So the mind simply chose the closest explanation it could rationalize.

Mia Frostine.

Humanityʼs rising star.

The SS-rank ice hero.

The one who had supposedly slain the devil king.

If victory was to be celebrated, then surely it belonged to her.

And she wasnʼt there to refute it.

Not yet.

◆◆◆

Near the collapsing palace gates, the last of the devils fell. The reinforcements that had swarmed through the shattered arena portal had been relentless—monstrous, strategic, merciless. The humans had fortified the arena as their foothold when they arrived, believing it was their safest exit. But the devils had been clever.

When they realized the humans had a stable portal connected to the border base…

they targeted it first.

And so the arena was destroyed—flattened in a storm of dark mana and brute force. Their only hope of immediate return had been wiped out.

Worse, devils left no corpses behind.

Only a lingering stench of rotting dark mana that dissolved into the air like poisonous mist. The elite vanguards stared at the battlefield littered with nothing but human bodies, broken weapons, and trails of tainted energy.

They had lost too many.

Too many.

But then the palace exploded.

And hope returned with the mistaken belief that their frost-blooded savior had crushed the devil king himself.

◆◆◆

Mia Frostine staggered out from the trap door that had once been sealed by Aaronʼs mana. Hiro, Misha, Zion, Lisa, and the others followed behind her—all of them exhausted, bruised, and half-covered in dust.

When the last trace of Aaronʼs mana dissipated after his defeat, the trap door had finally released them.

As they stepped out into the open, they heard cheers rising from the vanguard lines.

”Mia Frostine defeated the devil king!”

”We won! We survived because of her!”

”She brought us hope!”

Misha gave her a look.

Hiro stared blankly.

Zion snorted under his breath.

Mia did not smile.

Saintess Amelia emerged beside her, robes torn, hair plastered to her skin with sweat from the large-scale healing and support spells she had been maintaining for hours.

Miaʼs gaze drifted toward the palace ruins.

Toward the heart of that Himalayan blast of Yin and Yang mana.

She whispered, ”That wasnʼt me.”

Amelia, still panting from exhaustion, gave a faint, tired smile.

”It doesnʼt matter what they think. What matters is that… Zero was there.”

Miaʼs heart lurched.

She had felt it.

Every SS-rank on the battlefield had felt it.

Zeroʼs mana—sharp, cold, unmistakably him—had flared like a star colliding with a shadowstorm…

And then it vanished.

Completely.

Gone.

The emperorʼs aura had faded after retreating into shadow, but Zeroʼs disappearance was different. It wasnʼt retreat. It wasnʼt concealment.

It was… absence.

And that terrified Mia more than any devil king ever could.

”Zero…” she breathed, fists trembling.

Beside her, Amelia placed a steadying hand on Miaʼs shoulder. Her voice dropped low.

”We canʼt reveal the truth. Not yet.”

Mia nodded stiffly.

She knew.

She respected it.

Zero Elea—the man who saved countless lives over and over—hated being the center of attention. He hated praise. He hated the weight of expectations. He preferred shadows, the back row, the quiet path.

If the world thought Mia Frostine had slain the devil king…

Zero wouldnʼt argue.

He would be relieved.

But Mia felt none of that relief.

She felt sick.

Cold.

Uneasy.

So uneasy that when the elite vanguards rushed to her, saluting her as the savior of the human race, she could barely force a smile.

”Commander Frostine! Your strike destroyed the palace!”

”You saved us!”

”We owe you our lives!”

She politely acknowledged them, but her eyes kept drifting back to the swirling dust above the ruins of the throne chamber.

She couldnʼt sense Zero anymore.

And that silence in her mana sense…

hurt.

◆◆◆

The humans decided to return to the ruined arena. It was symbolic—”retaking our territory,” they said. ”Returning to the site of our arrival.” ”A fitting place to begin celebrating victory.”

They marched triumphantly, singing and laughing, though many stumbled from fatigue. They believed the war was won. That the devil king had fallen. That Mia Frostine and the elite group had saved them all from annihilation.

They had no idea the arena was gone, flattened by devil reinforcements who had known exactly how to cut off the humansʼ retreat.

But they pushed forward anyway.

A celebration was waiting.

Or so they thought.

◆◆◆

”Saintess Amelia! Are you coming?”

”Mia Frostine, Commander of Ice—join us!”

Mia shook her head.

Amelia shook hers as well.

”We will offer prayers,” Mia said gently. ”For the fallen heroes.”

”Prayers?” one soldier echoed, confused. ”The battlefield is secure, Commander. You can pray after resting—”

”No,” Mia said firmly. ”This is important.”

Because she wasnʼt going anywhere.

She wasnʼt leaving the palace ruins until she knew whether Zero was alive.

Amelia stepped beside her, voice soft but resolute.

”Go ahead,” she told the soldiers. ”We will catch up.”

The elite nodded reluctantly, offering respectful bows before running to join the celebration.

And so—

The battlefield emptied.

The cheers faded into the distance.

The only ones who remained were Mia and Amelia, standing in the shadow of a shattered throne room, facing the settling dust.

Amelia folded her hands in front of her chest.

”Mia…”

Mia didnʼt answer.

Her eyes were locked on the ruins, on the broken stone where an impossible battle had taken place… and where Zeroʼs body might be lying.

”Heʼs alive,” Amelia whispered. ”I believe heʼs alive.”

Mia swallowed hard.

”Then why… why canʼt I sense him?”

”Because the collision wasnʼt just mana,” Amelia replied quietly. ”It was something else. Something… deeper. You felt it too.”

Mia did.

That Yin and Yang blast hadnʼt just shaken the palace.

It had torn through the soul.

Mia closed her eyes, forcing her shaky breath to calm.

”Weʼre staying,” she said. ”Until we find him.”

Amelia smiled gently.

”I already prepared to stay.”

And with that—

They stepped into the ruins.

Into the dust.

Into the silence.

Into the last remains of a battlefield where a boy who hated attention had stood alone against destiny.

They prayed outwardly for the fallen heroes.

But inside—

They prayed for Zero Elea.

And feared they were too late.