Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series-Chapter 138: Orchestral Symphony [3]

The crowd hummed with anticipation as Lopt and a man taller than him and bulkier stepped onto the battlefield, standing across from each other. The sun hung overhead, its golden rays casting long shadows beneath them.

Aiden took in Lopt's opponent's attire. He wore a long, flowing desert robe with a deep hood that shaded his face. The cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face left only his nose and mouth visible, andhe wore dark leather gloves covered his hands.

Sevan, arms crossed, leaned slightly toward Aiden, seeing Aiden's reaction. "That outfit's from the Solvahari tribe," he murmured. "The people there live in a desert. You know, the Northern part of Soleil? Their fighters are trained to rely on more than just sight. If he's wearing that, he's probably from one of the warrior clans."

Aiden nodded but said nothing, his eyes locked onto the battlefield. From the information Sevan gave him, the Solvahari tribe are fighters who could read the world through the ground itself, their senses honed beyond ordinary human limits. If Lopt's opponent was one of them, this would be a challenge even for Lopt.

Yet Lopt only grinned.

"You sure you're ready for this, Quaver?" he called out, rolling his shoulders. "I'd hate to bruise that pride of yours."

The guy called Quaver adjusted the cloth over his face and chuckled. "You talk too much."

His voice was deep and steady, and boomed across the Labyrinth,

carrying the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

Lopt laughed. "And you don't talk enough."

The arena shuddered as the duel officially began.

"For the first fourth-year duel, we have Lopt Aouie, First Rank, versus Quaver Reta, Third Rank! The duel is simple. This will be a Close-Range Combat Duel. Fight until one is knocked out or yields! Are you ready?"

Both settled into their stances.

Aiden couldn't stop himself and whistled, while Adrian was jumping up and down his seat and shouting all kinds of things Aiden couldn't hear but he was sure it was something rude since the girl at the back of Adrian was pushing his chair with his foot, looking annoyed.

"Begin."

Quaver moved first.

He barely lifted a finger, yet the entire battlefield reacted. The ground trembled beneath Lopt's feet; not from an attack, but from information.

Aiden realized what was happening immediately. Quaver was mapping out the battlefield.

The vibrations rippled through the floor, bouncing off everything, from Lopt, the air, to even the faintest disturbances in the wind. Quaver wasn't just seeing his opponent. He was reading his breathing, his stance, his movements down to the slightest shift of muscle.

Lopt's usual trick of disguising himself was utterly useless.

And Quaver took advantage of that instantly.

The desert fighter lunged forward. A palm strike aimed for Lopt's ribs, then a sweep at his legs, then a sudden twist- an elbow cutting straight toward Lopt's jaw.

Lopt barely dodged in time.

The moment his feet touched the ground again, Quaver responded. He could sense where Lopt would land, where his weight was shifting, and he struck at those exact points, keeping Lopt constantly on the defensive.

Aiden's chest tightened.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as Quaver continued his assault, his strikes growing sharper and faster by the second.

He wasn't relying on brute force. His attacks were calculated. His strikes were meant to wear Lopt down, chip away at his stamina until he had nowhere left to run.

Lopt's grin hadn't faded, but Aiden could tell he was testing Quaver.

Then, all at once, Lopt's stance shifted.

His form changed, his muscles rearranging in an instant.

Quaver paused.

That was all Lopt needed.

He moved like Quaver.

Suddenly, the battlefield shifted in his favor.

Lopt had mimicked Quaver's fighting style, from his footwork, his precision, and his ability to predict movements. Even without Quaver's vibration sense, he adapted, weaving through the attacks that had once put him on the back foot.

The audience gasped as Lopt parried a strike with the same calculated efficiency Quaver had shown earlier.

Then he countered.

A swift elbow to Quaver's side. A kick aimed at the ankle. A flawless imitation of the Solvahari warrior's techniques, turned against him.

For the first time in the match, Quaver staggered.

Sevan let out a sharp breath. "Of course," he muttered. "Lopt doesn't need his disguise. He can become his opponent. The guy's too strong."

Aiden stared on in awe at Lopt.

That was the difference between Lopt and anyone else.

Even if Quaver had the advantage, even if Lopt's tricks were useless, Lopt would always find a way to win.

Because Lopt wasn't just a shapeshifter.

He was a master of everything. A Jack of all Trades

Quaver exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he readjusted his stance.

"I forgot how annoying you are," he muttered.

Lopt smirked. "Flattered."

But Quaver wasn't done yet.

The moment he shifted his weight, Aiden saw it. Quaver was altering his rhythm.

Instead of relying solely on vibrations, he stopped moving completely.

No unnecessary shifts. No obvious stance changes.

Just stillness.

The next time Lopt tried to read him, nothing came.

Then came an explosion of movement.

Quaver launched himself forward, aiming to end the fight in one swift motion. But Lopt was already gone.

He had read the shift before Quaver even committed to it.

In an instant, Lopt dropped low, swept his leg in a wide arc, and knocked Quaver completely off balance.

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Before Quaver could recover, Lopt's hand pressed against the ground.

A ripple of power surged through the battlefield- one Quaver hadn't expected.

Lopt mimicked the vibrations. A false pulse of movement, one that threw off Quaver's perception entirely.

Quaver tried to react, but he had misread Lopt's position.

The next thing he knew, Lopt was behind him, arm wrapping around his throat in a perfect, unbreakable hold.

A pause.

Then Quaver sighed.

His hand tapped against Lopt's arm, yielding.

"Anddd we have our winner, our reigning first placer, Lopt Aouie!"

The arena exploded with cheers.

Aiden exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Adrian jumped up, fist pumping into the air. "HA! As if Lopt would lose."

The enchanted party streamers suddenly burst into the air around Aiden and Adrian, showering them in a ridiculous display of golden sparkles and banners that read ALL HAIL THE MASTER OF MISCHIEF.

Adrian howled with laughter.

Sevan just put his face in his hands. "I knew those things weren't normal."

The moment Lopt returned to them, Adrian threw his hands in the air, grinning wildly.

"That was spectacular," Adrian declared. "I mean, I knew you were going to win, obviously, but you really had to go and show off like that, huh?"

Before Sevan could comment, a chorus of playful boos rang out.

The fourth years, particularly those who had been watching near the edge of the stands, had turned toward them, mock-jeering at Lopt. Some threw their hands in the air dramatically, while others mimed fake sobs of despair.

"BOOO! That wasn't even a real win!" someone called.

"Cheater! I demand a rematch!"

"Get out of here, Aouie, you smug little-"

"Stop brainwashing the first years already."

That last remark came from a girl who had just stepped forward, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose. She had short blonde hair that curled slightly at the ends and sharp grey eyes that studied Lopt like he was some terrible influence on society.

Lopt turned to her, smirking. "Brainwashing? Please, Marigold, they worship me of their own free will." He motioned toward Aiden and Adrian. "Isn't that right, my loyal disciples?"

Adrian, ever the dramatic one, threw his hands together in mock prayer. "All hail Lopt Aouie, first of his name, destroyer of third placers, king of smugness and show-offs."

Aiden, much drier, muttered, "I'd like to keep my free will, thanks."

Marigold rolled her eyes. "I knew you'd make them weird."

Lopt gasped. "How dare you, Marigold? I am an upstanding influence on these fine young men."

Before Marigold could retort, Lopt suddenly stretched and sighed. "Anyway, I think I'll step outside for a bit. I need some fresh air. Aiden, care to join me?"

Aiden blinked. "Huh?"

Lopt tilted his head, his grin as unreadable as always.

"Come on, just a little walk."

Aiden was about to answer when a familiar voice cut in.

"Chase."

He turned, finding himself face-to-face with Emmeranne.

"Professor Anwar is looking for you," she said flatly.

Lopt let out a dramatic sigh. "Bummer." Then, with a smirk, he winked at Emmeranne. "Guess I'll have to entertain myself."

Without another word, he turned and walked off, not even bothering to ask Adrian or Sevan to come along.

Adrian watched him go before nudging Aiden with his elbow. "Should we be worried about what he's up to?"

Sevan muttered, "Probably."

Aiden just exhaled and turned back to Emmeranne. "Where is he?"

She gestured for him to follow, and with one last glance at Lopt disappearing into the crowd, Aiden sighed and went with her, waving at the two boys before putting his full attention to Emmeranne.