Parallel Memory

Chapter 584: The wardens defeated

Zero’s Perspective

Every clash left his arms heavier, every breath shorter. The first warden pressed relentlessly, claws a blur of pale light as if he intended to shred even the air itself. Sparks screeched against his blade with each parry, the sound grating in his ears, rattling through his skull. The corridor seemed to shrink around them—stone walls closing in, the torches guttering, every escape cut off by those relentless strikes.

Zero’s hands trembled against the pressure. Sweat stung his eyes, yet he did not falter. He wasn’t fighting to endure—he was waiting. Waiting for the one opening that would tip the scales.

A heartbeat later, Lilith’s shadows snapped across the corridor like living serpents, tangling around the warden’s wings and ankles. The devil roared, ripping through them with brute force, but that momentary hesitation was all Zero needed.

He inhaled deeply, pulling mana from the very edges of his reserves. Darkness curled around his skin, spiraling like smoke given life, shivering the torchlight. At the same time, frost bled up his blade, jagged and sharp, a predator’s grin forged of ice. The temperature dropped so suddenly the air misted in his throat, and the torches bent low, flames shrinking to embers.

The warden’s grin faltered. "What—?"

Zero’s eyes narrowed, his voice low and steady, as though carved in ice.

"Shadow Art: shadow slash"

The world stuttered—then he was gone.

The warden’s claws ripped through where he had been, slashing only empty air. A whisper of frost and shadow marked his passage, like a ghost’s breath in winter. Then Zero reappeared at his flank, blade already descending.

Steel met claw in a burst of sparks, but the ice along his weapon shattered outward, crawling across the devil’s arm and shoulder like a curse. Joints locked under the spreading frost. The warden snarled, muscles straining, wings snapping against the stone as he shattered the ice with brute strength. But that single hesitation—that half-second—was fatal.

Zero’s second swing descended like judgment.

"Cryomancy art: ice shards!"

The blade carved through the wing and flesh, cold exploding outward in a shockwave that rattled the stones. The warden’s scream filled the corridor as frost sealed half his body in jagged ice, blood freezing before it could spray. He stumbled back, frozen stiff, before the blade cut deep into his chest. A final shudder, a crack of snapping ice—and he collapsed.

Zero stumbled too, chest heaving, his weapon dripping with blood and frost. His muscles trembled, each breath jagged. His first opponent was down. But he knew there was no time to rest.

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Lilith’s Perspective

The instant the first body hit the stone, the second warden’s fury ignited like a furnace. His wings snapped outward, filling the corridor with a thunderous gale. Her shadows shredded under the gust. Flames burst from his claws, a miniature inferno that ate at the oxygen and blackened the ceiling.

Lilith raised her hands, shadows thickening into a barrier before her. The firestorm smashed against it, sparks scattering as stone warped and cracked. The heat seared her skin, sweat streaking down her brow, but she refused to yield.

"Zero!" she cried, voice straining over the roar. "Together!"

Zero’s pale face hardened as he lifted his blade, the frost already swirling again despite the strain it placed on his body. He nodded once, silently.

The second warden lunged for her first, claws blazing like molten iron, his intent to shred her where she stood. But her shadows surged again—this time not as a shield, but a tide. They coiled around his legs, dug into the joints of his wings, anchoring him mid-step. Every strike cut through strands of shadow, but every strike slowed him, weighed him down, dragged him closer to stillness.

And then Zero moved.

He blurred into existence behind the devil, Phantom Step carrying him across the battlefield with barely a whisper. Frost and shadow entwined along his blade, darkness whispering like a curse while jagged ice shimmered sharp and merciless.

"Dual Art: Dark ice grave!"

The corridor vanished into the night. Shadows consumed the torchlight, smothering flame into nothing, while a freezing gale howled through the air. His strike carved clean across the warden’s torso, the impact exploding outward with a shockwave that rattled stone and tore through flesh.

The warden’s scream shook the walls, his body spasming as ice swallowed his chest, shadows worming into his wounds like chains. His wings convulsed, once—twice—before cracking into frozen shards.

Lilith didn’t hesitate. Her hand shot forward, shadows hardening into a spear sharper than steel. She thrust with precision, driving it into the devil’s throat. The impact snapped bone, the shriek cut short as his body collapsed into shards of frozen flesh and unravelling dark.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Only the crackle of ice and the hiss of melting frost remained.

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Zero’s Perspective

He exhaled slowly, every breath scraping his lungs raw. The corpses of the wardens lay broken and ruined, frozen and consumed by shadow. His sword’s weight dragged at his arm, his mana bled thin, and the only thing holding him upright was sheer refusal to fall.

Lilith approached, her face unreadable, but her eyes betrayed the exhaustion. Sweat clung to her temple, her lips pale, but her stride steady. "It’s done," she murmured.

Zero nodded, but his gaze had already shifted to the heavy iron door at the corridor’s end—their true goal. The door loomed like a tomb, veins of faint mana glowing across its frame, locks carved thick into the metal. Behind it waited the former devil king, the man whose existence might tip the balance of both worlds.

His voice was ragged, but firm. "Let’s not waste time."

They stepped over shattered wings and broken claws, their boots crunching over frost. Each step carried weight, as though the air itself resisted their approach.

Lilith laid her hand on the door. Shadows coiled from her palm, threading across the lock. Sparks hissed as her magic touched the wards—old, intricate patterns meant to repel intruders. One by one, the threads of mana snapped, unraveling like cobwebs torn apart by fire.

The sound of metal giving way filled the silence. With a grinding groan, the great lock shattered, falling in pieces to the stone.

The iron door creaked open, exhaling a breath of stale air. Darkness poured from the chamber beyond—heavy, suffocating, as though the prison itself had been sealed from time.

Zero tightened his grip on his blade, forcing his trembling hands to still. Lilith’s shadows wavered around her like a cloak, her expression unreadable. Together, they stared into the abyss they had fought so hard to reach.

At the threshold of the prison, their mission truly began.

And within that darkness—waiting, chained, and hidden from the world—was the former Devil King.