Chapter 5: Duel at the Academy Grounds

[Location: Verm Evocaier Academy Courtyard – Morning – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

Drifter walked slowly through the courtyard, the faint hum of the Skyrail above blending with the scene of students moving in perfect harmony.

"Hey, Drifter! Fancy seeing you here again!"

A familiar voice called out from his right. Drifter turned to see Alma Rosenthal, her pink hair glimmering under the sunlight. She waved cheerfully, her smile as radiant as the morning light.

Beside her, Nadia Fernleaf adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

Drifter approached them.

"Alma, Nadia, good to see you," he said, his voice calm yet warm, creating a peculiar sense of comfort for anyone who heard him.

Nadia’s eyes darted quickly toward Drifter before lowering back to the ground.

"Good to see you too," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, the heavy, deliberate stomping of boots shattered the moment. Drifter turned slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto a figure.

A young man with fiery red hair illuminated by the sunlight strode toward them, the chains on his jacket jangling with each step—every movement radiating challenge, as if calling for a duel.

image [https://i.ibb.co.com/mFJ9GDM/01-18.jpg]

Drifter stood silent, his eyes studying the young man carefully. His shoulders leaned forward slightly, knees bent, his weight subtly shifting as if ready to move at any moment. The boy moved with the confidence of a young predator, every step measured and intentional.

"So, you’re the warrior from the past?" the boy taunted, a sharp grin cutting across his face. His voice was cold, each word deliberately laced with provocation.

Drifter remained silent, his gaze fixed on the boy.

Alma murmured under her breath, barely audible, "Oh no... it’s Lorcan."

Meanwhile, Nadia froze, her hands gripping the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Lorcan Grindelwald continued his approach, his piercing gaze unwavering.

"You and me, at the duel grounds. Four o’clock. Let’s see if the past is still worth respecting."

A heavy silence enveloped them. Finally, Drifter replied, his voice steady and firm,

"Alright. I’ll be there."

Lorcan smirked in satisfaction, turning dramatically as his chains clinked with every step he took away.

As the tension faded, Alma let out a heavy sigh.

"He’s always like this," she said, her voice weary, her eyes filled with concern.

"Don’t do it, Drifter. He’s nothing but trouble."

Drifter simply looked at her before giving a brief nod.

"Sorry, but I’ve already agreed," he replied. His steps were deliberate as he walked away without hesitation.

Nadia grew visibly uneasy, her fingers tracing intricate patterns on her bag. Her eyes darted back and forth, her voice a whisper barely carried by the morning breeze.

"I… I don’t think this is a good idea," she said nervously.

Alma lowered her voice, leaning closer to Nadia with a protective gesture.

"Let’s just hope Alina doesn’t find out about this," she said, her tone thick with worry.

Nadia gave a small nod, her face reflecting the same unease. An uncomfortable silence settled between them.

That silence didn’t last long. Sloane Gast appeared, his steps light and confident, his mischievous grin cutting through the tension in the air. He strode toward the gathering of students with an air of playful arrogance.

"Alright, let’s make this more interesting," he said, his grin widening.

"If Lorcan wins, you’re treating us to lunch for a whole month. Every day."

In front of him, Bryan Halloway, Erick Vale, and Alyssa Hart stood watching. Alyssa crossed her arms over her chest, her raised eyebrow radiating skepticism. Her poised yet sharp stance reflected a personality not easily impressed.

"And if he loses?" she asked, her lips curving into a faintly mocking smile. "We all know Lorcan’s more reckless than he is smart."

Sloane’s laugh burst out, his eyes gleaming with infectious excitement.

"If Lorcan loses, we’ll all bark like dogs. Tomorrow morning, right in the courtyard. A full show."

A wave of laughter rippled through the group. Bryan nudged Erick with his elbow, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"You in?" he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Erick grinned back, his enthusiasm unmistakable.

"Yeah, sounds like fun," he replied eagerly.

Alyssa rolled her eyes dramatically, but a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Fine, I’m in. Win or lose, whatever," she said flatly, though a playful spark flickered in her eyes.

Amid the commotion, Reine Lindt stood uneasily behind Sloane, his slender hand lightly tugging at Sloane’s sleeve. His expression carried unspoken worry, his voice barely audible above the laughter around him.

"I… I don’t think this is a good idea," he murmured.

Sloane patted Reine’s shoulder casually, his grin never faltering.

"Relax, bro. It’s all in good fun," he said, shrugging. "And hey, free food if Lorcan wins."

From a distance, Alma, watching the scene unfold, sighed heavily and shook her head.

"They never learn," she muttered, turning away.

Nadia nodded quietly, and the two hurried off toward their next class.

[Location: Verm Evocaier Academy – Duel Grounds – Afternoon– Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

The fading twilight cast a golden hue across the shimmering surface of the Simulation Nexus. The usual hum of chatter died down, replaced by a tense quiet as students gathered at the edge of the arena. Inside the transparent dome, a simulated landscape of rolling green grass stirred with a gentle breeze.

Drifter stood motionless, his sharp gaze assessing his opponent without betraying a hint of emotion. His dark hair shifted slightly in the simulated wind.

On the other side of the field, a streak of bright red moved confidently. Lorcan Grindelwald stood tall, a smirk stretched across his face.

At the sidelines, Alyssa observed Lorcan stretching with a sharp, calculating gaze.

"Let’s hope this gets interesting," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Beside her, Bryan nudged Sloane, a wide grin on his face.

"At least we’ll see them barking tomorrow," he quipped, a chuckle escaping him.

Sloane leaned back casually, hands stuffed into his pockets, raising an eyebrow at Bryan.

"Start saving up, Bryan. When Lorcan wins, we’re going big. No cheap stuff this time," he teased.

Bryan laughed, unfazed.

"We’ll see about that."

The crowd’s cheers faded into a distant hum, meaningless noise to Drifter as his focus sharpened. His eyes pierced through the gathering tension as Lorcan stepped forward, his shadow stretching long under the evening sun.

"The rules are simple, old man," Lorcan said, his tone laced with mockery.

"Break the Evocyte barrier first, and you win. Relax, the energy’s capped—no one’s dying here."

Drifter nodded slowly.

"Thank you for explaining."

Lorcan grinned, his voice cutting through the stillness with a sharp edge.

"Take it easy, old man. Hope your back doesn’t give out halfway."

The taunt hung in the air like a whip, but Drifter’s expression remained unreadable. Without a word, he raised his hand, and a soft blue energy began to swirl around him, calm yet commanding. Black plates of armor materialized piece by piece, wrapping his frame. His long cloak swayed lightly as it formed over his shoulders.

In his hand, Exaltare appeared—a blade shimmering like fragments of fallen stars. The remaining sunlight danced along its edge, casting a radiant blue glow across the field. Drifter inclined his head slightly, a measured, calm gesture, his gaze locked onto Lorcan with precision.

"No armor?" Drifter asked, his tone even.

Lorcan laughed, his shoulders relaxed as if the fight were a casual game.

"Armor? Don’t need it. Nothing’s gonna touch me anyway."

In an instant, Lorcan vanished into shifting shadows, his form dissolving into dark mist that zipped across the battlefield. Drifter remained still, his sharp eyes tracking the mist with precision. Exaltare tilted slightly, ready to intercept the first strike.

Lorcan reappeared behind him, dark energy swirling around his fist as he launched a surprise attack. The blow connected, forcing Drifter back a step, but before he could respond, Lorcan disappeared again into the shadows.

"A sorcerer? And barehanded? Interesting," Drifter thought, steadying his stance.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

This time, as the mist swirled around him, Drifter moved decisively, cutting off Lorcan’s approach. Exaltare clashed against Lorcan’s dark energy with a resounding impact, sparks of blue and purple scattering like colliding stars. The shockwave pushed Lorcan backward, but he quickly shifted tactics.

Lorcan raised his hand and unleashed his Ebon Barrage, a storm of dark energy blasts hurtling toward Drifter. With graceful precision, Drifter evaded each projectile, sidestepping effortlessly.

"Quick, aren’t you, old man," Lorcan taunted, his breaths slightly heavier, though his confidence remained unwavering.

Closing the distance, Lorcan attacked again, dark tendrils snapping through the air like whips. Each strike carried lethal force, but Drifter moved with fluid precision, evading or deflecting every blow with Exaltare. Each deflection sent ripples of radiant light scattering across the arena.

As Lorcan’s rhythm began to falter, Drifter seized the opportunity. With a single fluid motion, he activated Blade Swarm. Dozens of glowing energy blades materialized around him, spinning in a mesmerizing formation before launching forward. The relentless barrage struck from all directions, forcing Lorcan to retreat as his confidence visibly wavered.

Forced to retreat, Lorcan’s expression shifted, cracks forming in his once-unshakable confidence. His breaths came heavy, and frustration flared in his eyes.

"Damn swords!" he shouted, slamming his fist into the ground. A shockwave of energy rippled outward, but Drifter stood firm. His own energy surged forward, relentless.

The fight left Lorcan stumbling backward, his steps unsteady and his breaths ragged. Pain rippled through him like a storm, and finally, he collapsed.

Cheers erupted from the crowd, applause thundering through the arena as the tension broke.

At the sidelines, Sloane stood with wide eyes, excitement radiating from him. His grin stretched even wider as he shouted over the noise.

"Don’t give up, bro!"

Beside him, Reine called out, his voice tinged with worry. His hands clenched tightly, betraying her unease.

"Come on, Lorcan, get up!"

Lorcan eyes burned with determination as his body trembled, dark energy radiating wildly around him. Taking a deep breath, he unleashed his power, an ominous aura exploding outward like a storm.

With Unleashed Fury, the dark energy surrounding him ignited, creating a foreboding presence. Veins across his body glowed like living shadows, his movements becoming unnaturally fast. His fists now crackled with immense power, each strike leaving behind trails of shadow.

"You’re done for!" Lorcan roared, his voice echoing with raw energy and fury.

He surged forward like a hurricane, launching his Lorcan’s Special—a barrage of punches forming a whirlwind of explosive strikes. Each punch created shockwaves that rippled through the air, sending deafening blasts echoing across the arena.

Drifter stood firm, his body steady even as the violent blows struck. The first hit was like a tidal wave, but he raised his left hand, activating Exalt Barrier. A radiant blue shield enveloped him, absorbing the force with perfect calm. Each impact only strengthened the glowing light surrounding him. He could feel Lorcan’s wild energy, raw and unrelenting, but none of it broke through his defense.

For a moment, Drifter observed Lorcan, noting the surprise flickering in his opponent’s eyes. The boy froze, his widened gaze betraying the realization of his attack’s failure.

"Too reliant on emotions," Drifter thought. With precise calculation, he moved to his next step.

Activating Exalt Shift, his body dissolved into shimmering blue particles, reappearing instantly at Lorcan’s side. A flurry of slashes followed, controlled and precise, like a storm guided by purpose.

The air rang with a sharp crack as Lorcan’s Evocyte Barrier shattered. The force hurled him backward, and he landed heavily, his remaining energy flickering erratically around him. Drifter stood motionless, his breathing steady, as his black armor and Exaltare disintegrated into faint blue particles, dissipating into the air. As the simulation faded, the ravaged green grass battlefield gradually morphed back into the pristine, crystal-paved grounds of the academy.

Stepping closer, Drifter knelt beside Lorcan, extending a hand without hesitation. His voice was calm, but every word carried weight.

"You fought well for someone so young. A good match."

Lorcan hesitated briefly, his hand hovering uncertainly. Then, with a steadying breath, he clasped Drifter's hand, his grip firm despite the tremble of exhaustion.

Lorcan managed a weak smile, his voice hoarse but laced with faint humor.

"Yeah… I lost. Fair and square."

Drifter nodded slightly, his eyes scanning the arena. The crowd began to disperse, though laughter still lingered in the air. In the distance, Sloane and Reine rushed over.

"Lorcan, are you okay?" Reine asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Total failure, huh?" Sloane teased, drawing laughter from nearby students.

"Looks like someone’s barking tomorrow," Bryan chimed in with a grin, joined by a satisfied nod from Alyssa.

"Better practice to make it convincing," Alyssa added, arms crossed as she enjoyed the moment.

Drifter gave a faint smile, his expression showing quiet respect.

"You… I didn’t expect a sorcerer to fight like that."

Lorcan looked up, his tired smile carrying a hint of sincerity.

"You’re so formal, man. Relax a little. Still… you’re impressive."

Drifter chuckled softly, the sound barely audible. When he spoke again, his tone carried a warmer confidence.

"No need to rush. You’ll get stronger. It’s just a matter of time."

Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the air.

"Who authorized this duel?"

Drifter turned, his gaze falling on two approaching figures. One was a feline ear woman with short bob turquoise hair, dressed in a sharp black-and-white corset and jacket, her steps firm and commanding. Beside her walked another woman with long black hair, draped in an elegant black gown and teal coat, her presence exuding calm authority. The sound of their footsteps echoed across the field, followed by the growing panic of the students.

01-36 [https://i.ibb.co.com/VJCK5ST/01-36.jpg]

"Oh no… it’s Alina! Run!"

Sloane’s panicked voice rang out before he vanished into the scattering crowd, Reine and Lorcan sprinting after him, their breaths quick and uneven.

Drifter’s attention, however, remained fixed on the turquoise-haired woman now standing before the arena. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing with suspicion and scrutiny.

"Who are you?" Alina Walsh demanded, her voice firm and commanding.

Before Drifter could answer, the black-haired woman beside her spoke up, her tone low and full of meaning.

"He’s the one they’ve been talking about. The man from the past."

Drifter turned his gaze to her, and a sudden familiarity struck him. Luna Sabriel. Her presence stirred a memory from the day he first arrived in this world.

image [https://i.ibb.co.com/R0Qr8L6/01-20.jpg]

Finally, Drifter spoke, his voice soft, carrying an unmistakable note of genuine apology.

"I’m sorry… I didn’t know the rules here. I’m Drifter… my apologies."

The air remained still as Luna watched Drifter walk away. Beside her, Alina crossed her arms, her posture rigid. She glanced at Luna, her voice dropping lower, tinged with curiosity.

"So? What do you think? Is this even possible?"

Luna’s lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze distant. The silence hung heavy, each second stretching longer until she finally spoke, her voice low, almost a whisper, but intense enough to hold Alina’s focus.

"There’s something about him… something from his past he’s not sharing. It’s not just in the way he fights but in how he moves—as if he’s seen things we can’t imagine. We can’t ignore that."

Luna’s words hung in the air, making Alina’s brow crease. She opened her mouth, then closed it, her gaze shifting as if trying to piece together an answer. Dismissing it felt easier, but the quiet conviction in Luna’s tone held her back.

"It’s hard to grasp. But if you think there’s truth to it…" Alina said with a sigh.

Luna turned slightly, offering the faintest nod, her gaze distant.

"We’ll see soon enough," she said, her voice low.

The breeze rustled the leaves, their whispers filling the silence. Heaviness settled over them as the final rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, leaving the courtyard to the encroaching darkness.

[Location: Verm Evocaier Academy – Training & Recreation Zone – Evening – Year: 1092 Ad Felicitas]

Drifter strolled through the Training & Recreation Zone as the evening sun bathed the campus in warm light. He noticed a group of students running together, their faces glowing with cheerful smiles. Curious, he followed their path, which led him to the cafeteria.

From a distance, he could hear the lively chatter of students gathered in a tight circle. Their laughter echoed off the crystal walls of the academy, full of energy and joy. At the center of the commotion, Drifter spotted Lorcan Grindelwald, Sloane Gast, and Reine Lindt, who appeared to be the focus of everyone’s attention.

Lorcan howled dramatically at the ceiling, while Sloane crouched low, miming claws with exaggerated movements. The absurdity of their performance drew more laughter. Standing beside them, Reine looked down, his face flushed as he stayed silent amidst the chaos.

Drifter began walking toward the group, his steps calm and deliberate. Slowly, the laughter began to fade. His presence was felt before he was seen, and the energy around them shifted. The easy cheerfulness was replaced with a subtle tension, and the students instinctively stepped aside to make way for him.

Lorcan stopped mid-laugh, his face reddening, while Sloane awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

"Good evening, sir," Sloane greeted, his tone hesitant as he tried to fill the silence.

Lorcan rubbed his head, his grin turning sheepish.

"Uh… what’s he doing here?" he muttered under his breath.

Drifter came to a stop, his calm yet observant gaze sweeping over the group. His face betrayed no emotion, but his mere presence was enough to quiet the excitement. Finally, he spoke, his tone neutral and steady.

"Is everything alright?"

Lorcan chuckled nervously, scratching his neck. There was something in his demeanor—a mischievous energy—that reminded Drifter of the young warriors he’d known in the past.

"Yeah… just settling a little bet. Nothing important," Lorcan said lightly, though a faint embarrassment colored his voice.

The tension eased slightly. Lorcan, always quick to bring levity, began to smile again. He clapped Sloane on the shoulder, nudging him forward as if giving him the stage.

"I’m Lorcan," he said proudly, pointing to himself before gesturing at Sloane.

"And this guy here is Sloane. We’re, uh, the troublemakers around here."

Drifter's eyes observed Sloane—tall and slender, with slightly messy black hair. He wore a dark green short-sleeved coat paired with a green t-shirt featuring a skull motif.

image [https://i.ibb.co.com/HCYPQ67/01-31.jpg]

Sloane added with mock seriousness,

"Let’s just say things are never boring when we’re around."

Lorcan chuckled, then paused, his grin widening as his gaze flicked to back, where reine stood.

"And… then…" he murmured, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air.

Drifter shifted his gaze, stopping at Reine, who stood slightly behind the group. Smaller in stature, with delicate facial features, smooth skin, and neatly kept medium-length blonde hair that shimmered under the light. Without a second thought, Drifter asked,

image [https://i.ibb.co.com/PWTn17w/01-29.jpg]

"And… who is she?"

Instantly, Lorcan and Sloane burst into laughter. Reine’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.

"I’m not—" Reine started, his voice strained and barely audible.

But Lorcan cut him off, throwing an arm around Reine’s shoulder and pulling him closer with a loud laugh.

"What do you think? She’s pretty, right?”

Reine didn’t let him finish. With a sharp motion, he shrugged Lorcan’s arm off, his face burning with embarrassment.

"I’m a guy, alright? Got it?" he snapped, his tone sharp and defensive.

Drifter froze, realizing his mistake. He raised a hand slightly, offering a simple gesture of apology.

"Ah… my apologies. I see that now," he said calmly, though his voice carried a faint note of regret.

Lorcan burst into laughter again, while Sloane leaned back against the wall, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Don’t worry about it, Drifter," Sloane said, smirking.

"Happens all the time. Especially after his sister gets... creative."

Reine let out a long sigh, his posture shrinking further. His already flushed face now seemed to match the color of the evening sky.

"You should’ve seen him at last year’s costume event," Sloane added with a sly wink.

"Full makeup, dress, everything. Truly… transformative."

Lorcan was nearly doubled over with laughter, tears streaming from his eyes. He grabbed Reine’s shoulder to steady himself.

"Next time, we’ll make sure Drifter gets an invite," he gasped between laughs.

"He has to see it to believe it!"

Reine groaned, casting a tired glare at both Lorcan and Sloane. Drifter watched it all—the teasing, the laughter, and the unspoken warmth underneath. It wasn’t mean-spirited; it was the kind of camaraderie that only came from a deep bond.

For a moment, Drifter felt a rare sense of connection to them. This moment reminded him of something he’d nearly forgotten. He’d heard laughter like this before—long ago, with Jaden, his friend from the past. The memory was fleeting, like a shadow at the edge of his vision, but it was enough to bring a small smile to his face.

Finally, he gave a slight nod.

"Alright, I’ll be on my way now. Take care. It was good meeting you," he said before turning to leave.

Lorcan’s voice called after him, filled with laughter and warmth.

"Don’t be a stranger! We’re always ready for more fun!"

Drifter didn’t stop, but he turned his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips. His small nod was his only reply before he continued walking, leaving the group behind.

As he moved farther away, the smile slowly faded, replaced by the weight of memories that never truly left him. Among the antics and laughter of these young troublemakers, Drifter had felt something rare—a fleeting chance to rediscover what he’d lost. For a brief moment, he wondered if this could be the place where he might find a piece of himself again. Or, at the very least… try.