Marc's sudden departure left a large void where the rain was falling. There was a large hole where the frantic race of raindrops raged.
The Emperor stood there under an umbrella held by Exorian. Fortunately, the umbrella also covered the butler, who did not get soaked in the process. They both watched the departure of the man who was supposed to fix everything, their expressions serious and cold.
The Emperor's emerald eyes shone under the dark sky as the soldiers took their positions.
At one point, the Emperor's chest puffed out and he shouted loudly to his soldiers.
"Everyone, salute Private Zeymond."
A guard of honor then stood in Marc's path. All stood as required by Zvenne's regulations. The salute was simple: they had to place their right fist over their heart and at the same time raise their left fist to their forehead. Then they stretched out their left arm with a sudden movement, stretched out their left hand so that it was straight, and brought that arm down alongside their body. Finally, they clenched their fist and held the position.
It was a three-step movement. Abrupt but authoritative. Even the inhabitants of Zvenne did not know the heavy secret behind it. Only the Emperor and his butler knew its meaning. A heavy meaning.
For Marc, this was new, and he didn't really pay much attention to it, but he had seen the respect with which the Emperor regarded him.
The faces of the soldiers flashed quickly across his field of vision. Soon, they faded away, replaced by the sight of the curious crowd that had gathered, before also fading away, replaced by simple black, rain-soaked buildings.
Marc knew that what awaited him was undoubtedly death or defeat. Retrieving the books was his first task, but not dying could also be part of the adventure, couldn't it? In any case, if he had to face the horsemen, he would give it his all, as usual. After all, he had a world to save, so he might as well do it with all his heart.
A slight smile appeared on his face as he continued on his way at full speed toward the empire he had left behind.
Chris arrived at the border.
Even though he had managed to get there without difficulty, he knew that no one could cross the border for obvious reasons. Ever since the news that Marc was a spy, the empire had been on high alert, scrutinizing anyone who looked like him or might know him.
And of course, the most heavily guarded border was that of Zvenne.
Guards were stationed there, each with rifles in hand. Their imposing stature should have scared away anyone approaching the border. But not Chris. Chris did not want to falter.
"Let's see if I've become strong."
Chris stopped right in front of the soldiers. Each of them then pointed their rifle at his beautiful car.
"Stop. Where are you going in wartime? Do you think you can go to Zvenne like that?"
Chris got out of the car and slammed the door. His parents wanted to say something to him, but the boy seemed too determined.
The ground was muddy from the rain, and his sneakers were covered in mud as soon as he stepped outside. It was difficult for him to move, which slowed him down and undermined his gait
One of the guards frowned and hardened his gaze as he saw Chris approaching him without hesitation.
"Unless you're a traitor too?"
Chris calmly walked toward them, his eyes filled with determination. For him, his glory began here. All the moments of rage he had felt when he saw Marc become too strong for him. All those moments when he had learned from Master Thierry. All those moments when he regretted not having continued that damn mystery to become the strongest and most stylish...
Now was the moment when his glory would begin, at the cost of much effort and sweat.
Chris looked the Garida soldiers with flames in his eyes. His heart was racing at the thought of beginning, and a big smile spread across his face.
One of the soldiers began to panic when he saw that the individual showed no sign of resignation. He then shouted at Chris.
"Surrender before..."
But in a flash, everything was gone. A huge gust of wind had passed right next to Chris. The soldiers had disappeared with the gust of wind. Numerous cones on the ground had been blown into the air, the trees nearby had bent violently, and Chris didn't even have time to react.
His head began to spin, because strangely, for some reason, he knew who had caused the gust of wind.
He slowly looked to his right to see the individual who had stopped right next to him. And there, as if by chance, was Marc Zeymond, a guard in hand.
"Marc..."
Trying to control his rage, he attempted to speak to his dear, friendly comrade who had stolen the spotlight from him.
"What are you doing here?"
Marc slowly tilted his head, clearly not surprised to see Chris.
"I'm going to pick up the books at my place. You're lucky I happened to be passing by."
Chris couldn't take it anymore. Yet from his flushed face came not a scream, but a voice straining for calm.
"You know..."
But Marc cut him off, already turning away as if he had never seen him.
"I'm leaving. It's nice that you came anyway."
Marc left as if nothing had happened, and Chris watched him go, stunned.
This was clearly not part of the plan for today. The day of his revenge. This was clearly not part of what he wanted to do.
"Damn it!"
Chris got back in his car and drove back to the capital.
His parents had pale, lifeless faces, trying to understand what had just happened.
Marc arrived home fairly quickly, but soldiers were already stationed in front of his house. Their completely khaki green military uniforms made them as dark as their surroundings. However, he was on the lookout for any danger that might arise. Of course, the target was Marc and no one else.
It didn't take Marc long to notice that the books had been taken. Their aura had completely disappeared from the house.
"Damn. If I have to find them now, it's going to be a pain."
Further away, a military truck was leaving the village. Marc noticed it quickly and had the good sense to follow it to see where it was going.
"Let's see where this one leads."
Marc followed the truck from a distance, moving discreetly from rooftop to rooftop, until he reached a military base. The building was not straight at all but had a lot of curves. Its rounded shape made it resemble a turtle shell. It was dark black, almost menacing, warning unauthorized persons not to approach.
Marc, however, was impressed by its unique architecture. He thought it was quite well done. He wasn't the type to like anything dark and menacing, but he found this building to be beautiful.
"These are beautiful designs we have here, but I'm going to have to destroy them."
He almost felt sorry for having to ransack it to find his books.
He tried to focus his vision to see if the books were in this military base. The auras moved differently in all directions, the soldiers emanated the same bloody red and threatening aura as Aeros in small quantities, which made Marc shudder. But he quickly ignored them and concentrated on the one emanating from the books.
But despite his ability to see auras, he couldn't see them. They weren't in this building.
Marc cursed.
"Where did they put them?"
Without realizing it, his rage had risen slightly and his aura dissipated quite violently, and the trees were swept away as if a strong gust of wind had struck them directly.
Marc noticed rather late that the trees' movements were irregular because of him. He tried to control his rage and his aura to hide his presence again. Soon, the trees calmed down and stopped swaying.
"Damn. I have to stop getting angry for no reason. If I can't control this aura, people are going to end up..."
Suddenly, a cold voice came out of nowhere and interrupted him.
"Who are you?"
Marc flinched violently.
Without warning, he received a violent kick to the face that knocked him out of his hiding place. He was thrown like a meteorite from where he was hiding.
The voice continued to speak calmly. Its coldness clearly indicated that it was not very happy to see a soldier hiding in the trees.
"A man in armor, huh? Are you from Zvenne?"
Marc slowly got to his feet. The blow had hurt quite badly and it wasn't normal. Because the only beings in the world capable of such a blow were either the Emperor or those highly trained assassins from the international group of assassins.
Marc smiled slightly nervously, but in truth he was frustrated.
"It's impossible. How did he find me? It can't be the aura. He must have noticed that the trees were shaking differently from the others despite the storm. Still, it's impressive. He has a good sense for..."
Looking up and wiping his face, Marc quickly noticed who his attacker was.
Lori was now holding a long black combat stick and staring at Marc with his hunter's eyes. The assassin had just tracked him down thanks to the abnormal movement of the trees around him. However, he couldn't know that it was Marc because he was wearing a mask.
To contrast with his black armor, Marc had chosen a completely white mask, a mask that covered his entire face except for his eyes. A single symbol sat in the middle of the mask, the symbol of Emperor Turcan and the current Empire. The butterfly, the sword, the scales and the hand. Marc now had the perfect look of an assassin from the time of the Red Emperor. Terrifying, discreet, and above all... deadly.
Lori raised an eyebrow.
"You look like one of his soldiers from that era. That's normal for an empire that keeps old customs like this. You didn't flinch at my blow, so I assume you're strong."
Marc looked his opponent in the eye. Rain was falling heavily on the ground. Despite the hood built into his armor, his face was soaked.
Lori, on the other hand, wasn't wearing a hood. Just his usual suit. So his midnight blue hair was completely drenched.
Marc then stood up straight and looked at the assassin with contempt.
"I don't think I have time to play games, but for the sake of this war, I'm going to beat all of you up right here."
Marc saw the auras swirling in all directions. The auras of the soldiers who noticed their presence began to move as well.
The aura of the building revealed the horrible aura of the one who had taken possession of Garid: the War.
Everything seemed to be in motion in a world that only Marc could see...
"The War, huh?"
Lori's aura was different but seemed to have some similarities. It was calmer and more composed. Yet it seemed more lethal and murderous. He saw what looked like bright blue eyes staring at him from the abyss in which they found themself. His aura was black, but a black that reminded him of shadows and dust. Something crumbling in the darkness. And yet, Marc sensed how much more dangerous it might be.
Lori noticed that his opponent didn't seem to be looking at him again. It was as if he was looking above him or into a world where Lori was nothing more than a shell.
And this quickly irritated him.
"I don't feel like you're really looking at me, assassin. I don't have time for this either."
Marc and Lori looked each other in the eyes one last time before beginning.
Then Marc smiled.
"Let's see, who are the strongest assassins in the world?"