When Marcel woke up, he felt powerful and invincible like never before.
"Well, look who's awake," Esther said with a smile, still sitting in a chair in front of Marcel.
"..."
Without saying a single word, Marcel lunged forward, appearing behind the woman and throwing a punch at her neck.
But his fist didn't even come close to touching her. It stopped in midair.
"Did you really think I'd give you power without putting a leash on you, boy?" Esther said with a sigh as she walked around Marcel. "That was very naive of you."
Esther simply watched him in silence.
Marcel tensed every muscle in his body, causing the ground beneath his feet to crack under the pressure of his newfound strength. Even so, his arm remained suspended just inches from her neck, unable to move forward even a single millimeter.
She sighed.
"You're using too much force. You're going to end up breaking the floor of my house."
With a slight movement of her index finger, Marcel was hurled into the wall as though a mountain had crashed into him. The entire building shook.
He stood up immediately, his eyes filled with fury.
"What... did you do to me?"
"I gave you exactly what I promised. Power."
She slowly walked toward him.
"You can feel it, can't you? Your body has never been this strong. Your speed, your senses, your regeneration... everything has been elevated to a level that very few beings in this world can reach."
Marcel clenched his fists.
"Then why can't I touch you?"
Esther smiled, amused.
"Because I don't want you to."
Silence.
"That's it?"
Marcel frowned.
She continued,
"Do you think there's some secret? Some limitation? Some complicated rule? No, Marcel. As long as I desire it, you will never touch me. If I wish, I'll make you kneel. If I wish, I'll make you sleep for a hundred years. If I wish, I'll rip this power out of your body and give it to the first peasant I find on the road."
She stepped closer until she was standing directly in front of him.
"You received a gift from me. You earned nothing," she said with an amused smile. "Once you help me defeat my children and my grandson, I will naturally set you free, and you will truly be free."
Esther placed her hand on Marcel's face, causing him to fall onto a bed. She then rested her hand on his chest.
"You know, this body is quite young," Esther said with an irritated sigh. "Unfortunately, it has certain needs, so you're going to help me with that."
She climbed on top of Marcel.
"First, concentrate," Mikael said attentively as Davina focused on a candle. "Then gather your magic at the tip of your finger and focus on the candle."
Davina did exactly that, and the very next moment, the candle erupted into flames.
After the sudden flash, the small flame turned into a burst of fire that forced Davina to take a step back.
"Ah!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. "I... I didn't mean to do that."
Mikael simply extended his hand.
The fire that had spread across the floor vanished as though it had never existed.
"And that's exactly why we train."
Davina lowered her head.
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't apologize."
She looked up at him in surprise.
Mikael folded his arms.
"A mistake made during training is worth more than a lucky success. Now we know your magic responds even better than we expected."
"I lost control."
"Yes."
He answered without any judgment.
"And control is something you learn. No one is born knowing how to wield power."
Davina took a deep breath.
"Do you really think I can do this?"
Mikael remained silent for a few moments before answering.
"I've met countless witches over the centuries. Some had little talent but worked incredibly hard. Others possessed extraordinary talent but were arrogant."
He pointed at the destroyed candle.
"You belong to neither of those groups."
"What do you mean?"
"You have extraordinary talent... and you're afraid to use it."
Davina remained silent.
"Fear isn't a flaw. It just can't be the one making your decisions."
He placed another candle on the table.
"Again."
Davina took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began gathering magic at the tip of her index finger.
This time, the flame merely flickered.
"Better."
She smiled faintly.
"It was still weak."
"It was controlled."
Mikael replied firmly.
"Control always comes before power."
She repeated the exercise.
The flame grew larger but remained stable.
Mikael nodded.
"Excellent."
Davina couldn't hide her smile.
"I think I'm starting to understand."
"You are."
She studied the ancient warrior for a few moments.
"You're different from what I imagined."
Mikael raised an eyebrow.
"Different?"
"People say you hated witches... that you hated almost everyone."
A quiet sigh escaped him.
"For a long time, that was true."
His gaze became distant.
"When I lost Freya, I let my anger define who I was. I blamed my children. I blamed the entire world."
He slowly clenched his fist.
"But discovering that my daughter is alive... changed many things."
At that moment, Mikael looked toward the inside of the church and sighed.
"Someone's here," Mikael said seriously. "It seems to be that brat Marcel, but his presence is different."
Davina watched Mikael prepare for battle and sighed.
"Wait," Davina said with a serious look. "He's important to me. Don't hurt him."
Mikael nodded and vanished.
A moment later, Marcel entered with a cold expression.
"Davina, I need your help," Marcel said authoritatively. "We're going to kill the Mikaelsons. I need you to cast a spell to separate them—especially Nik from his two women, and Klaus from Elijah."
"Marcel, what are you talking about? This isn't the time to start a war with the Mikaelsons. They're at peace," Davina replied. "Take a breath. What happened?"
"You're going to do what I tell you," Marcel growled as he grabbed Davina's arm.
"Marcel, you're hurting me!"
Davina looked on the verge of tears and used magic to send Marcel flying, but he merely shrugged his shoulders.
"What happened to you?" Davina asked in horror. "You're not Marcel."
Before Marcel could answer, he was hurled backward, and Mikael appeared in front of Davina.
"Are you all right, girl?" he asked without taking his eyes off Marcel.
"Yes. He's strange... stronger and different," Davina replied tearfully. "He's not the Marcel I know anymore."
"Indeed. His magical power is much closer to mine than to that of an ordinary vampire," Mikael sighed as the skin on his arms became covered in black steel, reinforced with vampiric transmutation magic. "Pay attention. Watch how vampires who truly master their power fight, and learn something for your own magic."
Marcel stood up and looked at Mikael with an amused grin.
"You know, Esther told me you brought her ex-husband back to life," Marcel said, glancing at Davina. "How about we join forces and kill the Originals?"
Davina said nothing. She simply looked at Marcel with the expression of a child watching her father drunk and rambling nonsense.
"So... Esther is responsible for this?" Mikael sighed and shook his head. "She never learns, does she?"
"You know something? Until not long ago, she was with me," Marcel said with a cruel smile. "It was so easy. Man, she's really tight. Despite her age, I didn't know she'd be that easy to sleep with. You know, she screamed my name—'Marcel, Marcel, Marcel.'"
Marcel mocked him, while Mikael merely looked at him as though he were an insect.
His arms gleamed with black steel as he stared straight into Marcel's eyes.
"It isn't the first time she's betrayed me," Mikael said with a sigh. "It's exactly what I'd expect from a whore like her—the same woman who sold my daughter."
"Ohhh, you look angry... What the hell is that on your arm? Whatever," Marcel laughed. "I'll show you my new power. Beating you will prove I'm better than Klaus."
Marcel attacked, throwing a punch at Mikael's face.
Mikael simply dodged and stuck his foot in Marcel's path.
Marcel was sent flying, tumbling across the ground several times.
"Is that all?" Mikael sighed in boredom. "So you're as powerful as an Original. So what?"
"Aaahhh!"
Marcel charged again.
Mikael dodged once more and this time landed two punches—one to Marcel's ribs and another to his face.
The vampire crashed to the floor, gasping for air.
"How is this possible? I'm more immortal than an Original. Why does it hurt so much?" Marcel growled from the ground.
"Are you watching, girl?" Mikael said to Davina without taking his eyes off Marcel. "A vampire's body-enhancing magic can interfere with regeneration while strengthening the body. Use that concept to create a spell capable of doing the same."
Davina simply nodded like a child learning something fascinating, and Mikael walked toward Marcel.
"The Originals aren't the strongest because of raw power," Mikael said as he kicked Marcel, sending him flying again. "There are beings, like dragons, far more powerful than we Originals. And I've killed many of them. So just because that whore of my ex-wife gave you power comparable to mine doesn't mean you're going to defeat me, boy."
Marcel wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled.
"I get it..."
He slowly flexed his fingers.
"You're fast."
His body vanished.
The pew he had been standing beside exploded from the force of his acceleration.
Davina lost sight of Marcel.
But Mikael did not.
The ancient Original merely tilted his head, allowing Marcel's punch to pass mere inches from his face.
Marcel reappeared on the other side of the church.
"He dodged?"
Without wasting any time, Marcel attacked again.
This time he used every ounce of speed his new body possessed.
Right.
Left.
Knee.
Elbow.
Spinning kick.
Not a single blow landed.
Mikael moved through the barrage as though he were strolling through a garden.
Every movement was small.
Efficient.
Without wasting any motion.
"How...? I'm faster than an Original... I can feel it! Then why does he keep dodging?"
Marcel roared and focused all of his strength into a single punch.
"DIE!"
Mikael finally raised his arm.
The black steel covering his skin received the impact.
CLANG!
The metallic sound echoed throughout the church.
Marcel's eyes widened.
A sharp pain shot through his fist.
The bones in his hand cracked.
"Agh...!"
He leaped backward, clutching his arm.
"My fist... broke?"
His hand began regenerating immediately.
Even so, the pain remained.
"W-What... is this?"
Marcel looked at his now fully healed hand.
"My body is stronger than any Original's... so why does it feel like I just punched a mountain?"
The answer came before he could even ask.
Mikael vanished.
Marcel's eyes could barely keep up.
"Fast!"
A punch slammed into his ribs.
CRACK!
Every bit of air was driven from his lungs.
Before he could fall, another blow struck him across the face.
His vision spun.
The world turned upside down.
He crashed through three pews before sliding across the church floor.
"Cough...!"
Marcel struggled to breathe.
It hurt.
It hurt terribly.
"How is this possible?"
His regeneration was already rebuilding his broken ribs.
Even so...
The pain didn't fade.
"I'm stronger... faster... tougher... then why am I getting beaten?"
Mikael walked toward him.
Unhurried.
"Do you understand now?"
Marcel staggered to his feet.
"No..."
He spat blood onto the floor.
"This doesn't make any sense!"
He attacked again.
Faster.
Stronger.
More desperate.
Not a single blow landed.
Mikael dodged by mere inches.
As if he knew exactly where Marcel would strike before the attack had even begun.
"No! I can see him! My body can keep up! Then why am I missing every attack?"
Mikael sighed.
"Because speed doesn't replace experience."
With a single movement, he grabbed Marcel by the throat.
Marcel struggled to break free.
He shoved.
He punched.
He kicked.
It was like trying to move a statue.
"L-Let... go of me!"
Mikael lifted him with one hand.
"Esther gave you power."
He looked directly into Marcel's eyes.
"But she forgot to teach you how to fight."
The next instant...
He hurled Marcel out of the church.
The wall exploded.
Marcel smashed through stone and wood before rolling across the street, raising a cloud of dust.
Davina ran to the entrance in alarm.
Marcel slowly got back to his feet, breathing heavily.
His body had already healed completely.
But his expression was one of utter disbelief.
Mikael grabbed him by the collar.
"A piece of advice, boy."
Marcel stared at him in silence.
"If you truly intend to fight my children..."
He folded his arms.
"Be careful with Elijah."
Marcel laughed despite the pain.
"Elijah? Klaus is the strongest."
Mikael shook his head.
"Klaus is the most powerful."
His gaze remained unwavering.
"Elijah is the most dangerous."
Marcel frowned.
Mikael continued,
"Klaus wins because he possesses greater strength than most of his opponents. Elijah wins because he rarely makes a mistake."
The ancient warrior threw Marcel aside and turned his back on him.
"You just learned that raw power isn't enough. If you choose to attack the Originals, Elijah will teach you that same lesson... in a far crueler way."