Chapter 89: The Third Creator

The air in the library felt colder as Leon lowered himself to the stone floor, crossing his legs into a rough lotus posture.

He kept his gaze locked on the book in his lap. He flipped to the next page, which was black for a heartbeat before text began to weave itself into existence.

He read the first principle aloud, “Kinetic potential is not stored in the muscle, but in the space between intention and action.”

As the last word left his lips, the library reacted.

A deep, grinding hum vibrated through the stone beneath him while the sun symbol began to glow with the blue light again.

Leon’s body tensed, every instinct flaring to life before his mind could even process the threat the pressurized air carried.

The air distorted and then condensed into the Corrupted Canis, its eyes glowing like blue fire.

When it materialized fully, it lowered its head, muscles coiling, and launched at him at a deadly speed. Its claws glistened as it extended toward Leon’s chest.

’Run!” his mind screamed at him, yet his body refused. His legs remained locked in the lotus position as he watched. His heart hammered harshly against his ribs as the creature closed the distance.

The world narrowed to the approaching claws, the blue fire of its eyes, and the rush of air. At the last nanosecond, as the obsidian tip grazed the fabric of his shirt, Leon’s body moved.

It twisted in an unthinkable way while his arms shot up, his forearm brushing against the creature’s momentum.

Colliding with it, the Canis stumbled past him and crashed into the empty bookshelf behind him. It dissolved into a cloud of shimmering blue mist that hung in the air for a moment before fading.

Leon’s body trembled violently as he stared at the spot where the creature had vanished. Slowly, he looked down at the book in his lap, his breath coming in short paces.

On the right-hand page, new text glowed into being:

Lesson 1: Assimilation. You do not oppose the river; you learn its current.”

Leon swallowed hard as realization struck him like lightning. When he flipped to the next page, he paused.

At the top of the new blank page, he saw a single word written boldly in an italic style: Meditation. And right beneath it, a sentence began to write itself, each word appearing with a deliberate slowness.

To channel the external storm – the devil within you – you must first find the silent eye within your soul. The sieve of fear is the mind, still it.

As his eyes traced the words, a terrifying sensation kindled in his bones.

He felt the golden energy blast that shot from his eyes to the sky. And when he tried to focus on the instruction, finding the silent eye, his mind rebelled.

It turned into a sieve: the wet, cracking sound of the broad-shouldered boy’s spine; Vera’s cruel taunts; the look of disappointment in Zoe’s eyes the day of the treadmill incident. All the faces he’d seen swam in his vision.

His breathing grew ragged, the energy within him responding to this panic, threatening to burst out. Then, his father’s face, the one that appeared in the vision from the crash side – a man walking through parted flames.

Leon clung to the image like an anchor. Slowly, his frantic heart began to ease as the chaotic chorus of voices in his mind faded.

He focused on the rhythm of his own breath, in and out, and felt the solid stone beneath him. The churning energy that had made his veins change color vanished.

When he cracked his eyes open, he noticed a new word had been formed: Well done. But you’re not done yet.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him as the library’s silence now felt heavier. “I’m already feeling tired, let me get back,” he whispered and turned, aiming the torch toward the area where he had tumbled from.

“Where is the door?” he asked in a loud, frustration-filled voice.

As if in answer, he felt the book grow warm in his lap. And when he looked down on the page, another line was there, waiting for him.

Complete the first Volume to exit.

“What?” A sharp cry burst from him. Having no choice, he lowered himself back into the lotus posture and flipped the page.

The book turned into his sole instructor, teaching him about the Flesh Barrier – the concept that says the body’s limits were illusory. Blood Barrier – the idea that vitality and power were circulated and refined, and not merely spent. And lastly, the Bone Barrier – the framework of the self, which could be made unbreakable through one’s own will.

He read, absorbed, and mimicked the breathing patterns and mental exercises described as they appeared.

He lost count of time. It could have been minutes or hours, but in the unchanging blue-tinged gloom, there was no way to tell.

Leon’s body grew stiff and his mind weary from concentration, yet he pushed on, driven only by the desperate need to leave.

Finally, as he turned the last page, a thin smile tore on his lips. At the last part of the page, he saw a name inscribed in bold text: Andrew Storm.

And beneath it, his father’s name that made a lump form in his throat, he closed his eyes when he saw a title he wasn’t ready to remember.

The Third Creator.

“The Third Creator?” he said while breathing heavily.

Instantly, the memories he had been holding back surged forward like a nuclear blast. The lizard-lady’s molten golden eye, her warning, and her desperate plea: You are the Catalyst, the Shaper… the Creator.

Then, the grey-skinned beings on the dream shore bow in unison, their voices echoing like an orchestra: Welcome, Creator!

A jolt of pure terror shot through Leon, causing the book to fall from his suddenly numb fingers and hit the floor with a heavy thump.

He scrambled to his feet, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs.

The moment the book struck the floor and rolled to the center of the sun symbol, the blinding light erupted from it.

Leon cried out, throwing his arms up over his eyes, as he felt the heat intensifying more than the first.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep