Marc got home and, as usual, took a shower, grabbed a quick bite, and headed to his room.
Jin watched his master with worry in his eyes.
He knew how much it was eating away at him this feeling of knowing nothing, of being powerless while danger crept ever closer.
As for Jin, he had nothing left to lose. His father had been a killer, murdered himself, and his mother had passed away from an illness. He had no family left to protect, so he had chosen to focus on his goal.
At first, he just wanted to beat his father down make him regret never leaving the world of assassination. But the man was gone now, and holding a grudge against the dead seemed pointless.
So he told himself he'd just become stronger. The strongest of all. A master fighter in every domain. His father had been strong, after all. Why shouldn't he be?
Maybe it was his father's influence. Or maybe… it was just boredom.
Whatever the reason, he had nothing to lose only victories to chase. That was his life now. That's why he followed Marc.
He'd felt the strength in him. But that strength always came with a certain sadness. And that… he could see clearly Jin didn't want to see his master like this, but he had no way of comforting him.
The enemies showing up stronger and stronger didn't bother Jin at all. To him, they were nothing more than sparring fodder. But what about Marc?
"Master?"
Marc turned his head slowly, his voice worn and tired:
"What is it?"
Jin's lips parted, slowly. He didn't want to leave his master alone… but—
"I'm going to withdraw for a while. I hope you don't mind."
Marc frowned slightly.
"Can I know the reason?"
"I'm going to search for opponents around the world. Since more and more enemies are showing up, I might as well go all out for a bit."
Marc looked at Jin from the wooden stairs. His emotionless gaze slowly filled with regret… and relief. He wasn't worried about Jin—he knew what the boy was capable of.
Still, watching him leave felt like losing a limb. But even so, Marc knew he didn't have the strength to stop him.
That martial arts genius was like a ticking time bomb. He was more of a monster than the entities they fought. His battle with Goagi had proven it— Jin had dominated for most of the fight…until that strange being had activated its powers.
Marc let out a deep sigh.
"Do what you want. I'm not really your master anyway."
Jin's face remained expressionless. A face that showed nothing. Marc had tried many times to read it, but it was pointless. There was nothing to see.
"Thank you, Master."
Jin turned calmly and headed for the door.
Just then, Marc suddenly called out.
"Hey, Jin."
The boy turned slowly.
"Yes?"
Marc wanted to encourage him. He wanted to say Take care, or Be careful, or even Good luck...
But all that came out was:
"Don't die."
Jin smiled—and walked away.
Marc watched him leave, in complete silence.
After a good minute, he finally headed up to his room.
"Stronger opponents, huh?"
He smiled as he imagined his friend roaming across the world, fighting in every corner to hunt down those Riders.
"By the way, that book Rodrigo gave me... I still haven't read it."
Marc grabbed the book and examined the cover.
The details looked a lot like The Prince of Death. In fact, all the Lavoisi books he owned looked similar. This one was a dark blue. The Prince of Death was red and black.
Marc studied every detail before opening it.
If there was an answer to stopping those guys…it was probably in here.
That strange aura seemed to be haunting him. Like it was trying to pull him back into the sea, just to drown him.
The feeling unsettled Marc, but he forced a nervous smile before opening the book.
"Alright. Tell me more about these Riders."
Marc opened the first page and began to read.
"There were four. They were here. Announcing the advent. Announcing war. Announcing torment and the tears of mothers. A hero whose arrival is awaited. You will bring victory—and defeat. On this lost world, you will strike down those who dare defy you. Yet nothing in this world will stop you—and that might be the cruelest curse of all."
Marc had only read four lines, and yet everything suddenly felt clear in his mind.
This wasn't the same writing Sanchez had read. It was addressed to him. Just like The Prince of Death had been.
Lavoisi's books were special. They showed the reader exactly what they needed to know. Everything Marc read spoke of a chosen one, a messenger, a man who slowly became the despair of some—and the hope of others.
Just like when he found that book on the shelf inside the ruins, the writing was directed only at him—Marc Zeymond.
The only book that didn't talk about him was the one from the Witness of History—the one who awaited his arrival. That Witness was going to awaken.
"The Scholar's Book is different. The more you read, the more truth is revealed. But not only the truth—the future, the past, and the present. All of it is explained, and all of it becomes clear as you keep reading."
What Marc was about to read wouldn't just show him what he was looking for—but also what was. And he knew there were things in there he'd regret ever knowing.
The hands of curiosity wrapped around his neck again, squeezing tight—so tight it hurt. He looked at the book with dread as sweat began to drip from his forehead.
"Do I really want to read it?"
The hands squeezed tighter. Voices whispered behind his back.
"You have to read it, if you want to know how to stop them."
"How else will you defeat them?"
"Don't you want to know what's going to happen to you?"
They were the same voices he'd heard in the cave from the other world. The same ones that came back in the library. Marc knew them by heart.
"Silence !!"
Marc unleashed his aura in his room—everything flew in all directions.
The voices were blasted away, and he could no longer hear them.
He calmed himself, then looked at the next lines in the book.
"I better read carefully… or this won't end well. Also, if I'm the so-called hero Zire was waiting for, and if he really exists, then I should try to find him. His power might help us win against those guys. Well… if he exists at all."
Marc found himself ridiculous. Looking for a fictional character in the real world? But he believed deeply in Lavoisi's stories. And this book might finally tell him whether they were real or not.
"Lavoisi… who are you?"
Marc set the book down.He decided he'd read it little by little.
But that's not what the hands of curiosity had in mind.
Those two thin hands squeezed his throat again—tighter.
Marc wanted to read it.
Anyway, it was the only way to figure out how to defeat those monsters, right? Everything was written. Sanchez had read it. So why not him?
He slowly reached out toward the book, his eyes burning with overwhelming curiosity...
"Marc."
Marc snapped back to reality at the sound of Elie's voice.
The whispers faded away for good. Everything became clear again. His mind was at peace.
"Huh? Was that… Elie?"
He headed toward the front door—but then realized the voice had come from the window.
He turned around—only to see Elie hovering outside it.
"What the…"
The young woman smiled at him and waved.
"Hey."
Elie was there, about two and a half meters above the ground—floating in the air. Her face beamed with joy, clearly proud of her discovery.
Marc was stunned.
Sure, they had gotten abnormal physical strength…but it had always stopped at just that—physical.
But now, Elie…Elie was standing midair, with something that clearly wasn't physical anymore.
"You opening up or what?"
Marc was still lost.
"Uh… yeah, I'm coming."
He rushed to the window and let Elie in. The wind seemed to settle beneath her steps.
He frowned as he stared at her.
"What's going on?"
"Wait. First, look. I can't do it all day, so watch carefully."
Elie took a bottle she had brought with her. She opened it and started pouring the water onto the floor.
Not exactly the best way to treat his nice brown hardwood.
"Hey, what are you doi—"
"Stop."
At that moment, the water froze mid-air.
Marc couldn't believe what he was seeing. The droplets hovered, perfectly still, above the floor.
"I know this'll sound cliché, but… this is insane."
"Right? I can control the wind—so obviously, I can control air too."
"So… you control the elements?"
"I'm not sure. I also tried pulling an object toward me. It wasn't telekinesis, but I did manage to crush a can from afar. Look !"
Elie glanced at a sheet of paper on Marc's desk—and in an instant, it crumpled in on itself.
"That was my math homework."
"Ah. Sorry."
Elie restored the paper perfectly—without touching it—like nothing happened.
Marc couldn't believe his eyes.
"How did you find out?"
"I just tried stopping the water from my faucet… and it stopped."
Marc wondered if her powers were simply born on a whim.
"So the other world gave us powers now, on top of absurd strength. Does that mean we'll all start getting them?"
"I don't know. Don't look at me like that."
"You don't get it, Elie. This is amazing. If luck or fate is actually giving us strong powers, we might really be able to stop those guys. Even that man in black, if we wanted.We could finally get out of this nightmare—crush our enemies—and protect the ones we care about."
Marc was as excited as a kid.
Elie watched him bouncing back and forth—It warmed her heart to see him this happy in such a grim time.
His eyes slowly regained their color.
Suddenly, he stopped, brushing his black hair back into place.
"Calm down. Let's calm down. That doesn't mean we'll also have superpowers or that they'll be strong enough to stop them. Still, it's already a great discovery. What else can you do?"
"That's pretty much it. Basically, I can somehow interfere with what's around me."
Marc smiled at Elie in a way he never had before. Elie blushed a little on the spot.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
"You're a light in the darkness. Thank you, Elie, for being here."
As he said those words, he pulled her into a tight hug. Elie was caught off guard. She knew this would cheer Marc up, but not to this extent. Maybe it was because in her mind, he seemed strong and invincible, so she didn't worry as much as he did.
Still, wasn't she the one who was supposed to feel more reassured?
"You're welcome," she whispered.
She wanted to stay like that forever.
However, Marc gently let go of the embrace.
"I'm going to call Nath. He'll appreciate the news."
Elie looked disappointed. Clearly, Marc had no idea how to read the mood.
Then, the girl turned her head left and right. She noticed someone was missing from the empty house.
"Where's Jin?"
Marc paused for about ten seconds, as if a bit of light faded from his eyes, then answered:
"He went off to find worthy opponents."
"Aren't we going to need him?"
"Yes, but we'll call him. He'll come if needed."
Marc called Nathanaël, who came as soon as he was available. They talked about Elie's discovery, and as expected—he was delighted.