Chương 34: Run to Glory

The morning started at 6 o'clock. Dawn was breaking, greeting the hyper-active city with its first warm light and a temperature of 31 degrees Celsius. The tribunes were already getting packed, and fans stood shoulder to shoulder along the active race line, cheering loudly for their chosen heroes.

The big names of the competition were already present, especially the returning champion Jabare Magkosi and several other well-known warriors from the previous year, whom were local warriors and the crowd was celebrating them with roaring chants, waving banners, and energetic songs. The atmosphere was electric, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. While we still had some time before the official start, we sat down for some light soup to fuel ourselves.

We ate quietly at first, then reiterated a little about the course and what we had scouted the previous days. The soup was simple but warming, giving us a bit of strength for the long journey ahead. After finishing, we walked to the registry to receive our leg bands. There was already a long line of competitors waiting. When it was finally our turn, we were handed red, gummy-like bands. They felt strangely alive in our hands. They were so soft and stretchy at first.

As soon as we wrapped them around our upper legs, the bands enlarged perfectly to match our size, then shrank and tightened securely in place. They sat firmly against the skin, sturdy and unmoving even under sweat, designed to stay on no matter how intense the race became. If they were ever ripped off during the event, the controlled Guardians of Organizer Richárde, positioned as emergency healers along the course, would step in to promote their healing products.

They would demonstrate the products' effectiveness by healing the damaged participants, signaling that all participating parties could go nearly all out, as the healing product they stood by was just that effective.

"You can cut limbs, beat someone hard down near the verge of dying, but not more. Death is not good for business nor this Event!," Richárde announced via the microphone in his hand, his voice echoing across the venue with theatrical flair. We received our numbers - 231 and 232. We were positioned on the very edge of the start line, forced to work our way forward from the back. Now a lot of eyes from the other competitors were on us, sizing us up with curiosity and suspicion.

Some whispered, others smirked, clearly wondering who these two outsiders were. We made our way to the starting line where Monk Louzan was already holding the microphone.

"I am once again the commentator for this beautiful event, designed for the people and the business of Richárde to grow symbiotically toward a great journey for Tabraca. I thank Michaelanius for the path which brought me here to spectate and commentate this epic test of courage, brawn, speed, smart or rash decisions, testing each human on their merit in pursuit of glory and, of course, crowning the top 3 who reach the finish line at the end of the event."

He then sang the Song of Bravery he had created for this edition of the Run to Glory, a piece from Latiume dedicated to the beautiful and hopeful people gathered here today. His voice was angelic, pure, and uplifting, filling the entire venue with warmth and inspiration.

Italian (with translation): Sarà per l'estate calda Che mi batte forte il cuore Sotto il sole che non molla Sento crescere il rumore Gente ovunque, mille voci Colori accesi nella città Corro con lo sguardo acceso Questa festa non finirà E canto perché amo guardare Questo bellissimo evento, Corsa verso la Gloria Tra la folla e il suo calore Sento il ritmo dentro il cuore Sarà l'aria dell'estate O la gioia che mi dai Ma restiamo qui a sognare Finché il sole brillerà English: (It might be the hot summer That makes my heart beat strong Under the sun that never gives up I feel the noise growing People everywhere, a thousand voices Bright colors in the city I run with an ignited gaze This party will not end And I sing because I love to watch This beautiful event, Run to Glory Among the crowd and its warmth I feel the rhythm inside my heart It might be the summer air Or the joy you give me But let's stay here dreaming As long as the sun will shine) After his singing, the people all around...

even us, were filled with unlimited happiness in our hearts, beating out of pure excitement. His angelic-like voice had brought pure joy to the entire venue, lifting everyone's spirits and making the event feel truly legendary in scale. For a brief moment, the whole crowd stood in awed silence, then erupted into thunderous applause and cheers that shook the tribunes. Afterwards, the people threw sand from small pouches into the air as a traditional sign for the start.

Thousands of grains glittered in the morning sun like golden dust, creating a shimmering cloud over the starting line. The event swung into full motion. The " Run to Glory" had officially begun. Monk Louzan, at the front, immediately flew upward with air-walking, hovering high above the racers like a divine observer. His voice boomed across the venue with high energy as he began commentating, following the race with keen enthusiasm and painting every moment with vivid words for everyone at the event.

Many competitors jumped straight at Jabare Magkosi right from the start, knowing his strength and hoping to eliminate the champion early.

"Take him down now!" one burly runner roared as he lunged with a heavy axe. Another shouted, "Out of the way, the champion is mine!" But Jabare evaded them effortlessly with his Soul Sand, creating a wave-like motion beneath his feet and riding it forward to gain distance. His energetic laughter echoed across the venue as he enjoyed the pursuit, clearly thriving in the chaos.

"Too slow, friends! Come catch me if you can!" he called back with a grin, his voice full of playful confidence. At the same time, we in the back got attacked immediately. Several aggressive runners charged at us, seeing us as easy targets since we started from the very rear.

"Out of the way, rookies!" one snarled as he swung a spiked club. Galer dodged smoothly and replied without breaking stride, "We're not here to play nice either." I sidestepped a wild punch and muttered to Galer, "Let's not waste energy here." We dodged the initial rushes with practiced ease and ran in separate but coordinated manners into the underground tunnels, slipping away from the early frenzy to conserve our strength for the long journey ahead.

There were 12 tunnel paths, each diverging slightly to prevent early congestion and chaotic brawls right at the start. This design also added layers of strategy and decision-making for every participant. After the midsection, all tunnels would rejoin into one main passage. I ended up in tunnel 3 after a burly competitor rammed me hard from the side, sending me stumbling through the entrance. Galer, starting from the far right, had no choice but to take tunnel 12.

The champion Jabare Magkosi, as expected, chose tunnel 2... the same one he had dominated last year. The moment I regained my footing in the dimly lit tunnel, several aggressive runners surrounded me, clearly seeing me as an easy target to eliminate early. I drew my longsword and activated my Heart Flame, the fire surging through my veins as I cut loose. I sliced through limbs and armor with explosive power, but the quality of this tournament showed itself immediately — these were no weaklings.

Some blocked my strikes, others countered fiercely. In the chaos, I managed to sever one man's leg band. The moment it came off, underground sand-like golems rose from the floor, administered Richárde's special Liquid, and healed his missing limb on the spot. He was quickly carried away, eliminated from the race. Seeing the proof of the rules in action, I grinned fiercely.

"To heck with it all," I muttered.

"I'm going all out for now." I fought well, but I quickly realized I was losing sight of the true purpose of the race. Most competitors weren't matching my fighting spirit at all, they dodged, slipped past, or sprinted ahead to gain distance, treating the underground tunnels like a chaotic sprint rather than a battlefield. After beating down my sixth opponent, the harsh truth finally sank in: I had been duped by my own energetic ego.

I was alone, breathing hard in the dim tunnel, the distant echoes of footsteps fading ahead of me. I was falling behind. With a frustrated growl, I poured everything into my legs. My Heart Flame erupted violently, pumping pure fire through my feet and calves, granting me explosive speed that left trails of heat and faint golden-red embers in the air behind me. The tunnel walls blurred as I pushed forward with everything I had, chasing the leaders like a man possessed by the obsession to get first place.

Meanwhile, Galer had avoided combat entirely. He dodged with swift, precise movements, checking other runners' Animo levels as he advanced. He made it deep into the tunnel and reached the combining section well ahead of most. He was now among the mid-race pack, surrounded by stronger competitors. They didn't like how quickly he had caught up and immediately turned on him, ten of them closing in at once. Galer didn't hesitate.

He activated his Vestuto, his crest lighting the blue color speed-up flaring around him, and burst past them like a streak of light. The problem now was that they had seen what he could do and began adjusting their strategy to chase him down. After quite some minutes of burning more energy than I should have, with my Heart Flame roaring through my legs for faster steps, I finally caught up. I reached the combining section just two minutes behind Galer.

A few stronger fighters were waiting there, but they were still no match. I beat the four of them down, bringing my total to ten eliminated. Galer, in the same time, had already exited the tunnel and moved onto the hills. Galer had to battle the ten guys chasing him because he didn't want to stay in his blue speed form for long. Wasting stamina for nothing would be inadvisable. So he turned and confronted them directly.

What followed was an epic clash as he unleashed his Christaller, the crystalline claws he had used against me earlier. They could retract and extend at will, turning into deadly stabbing blades or slashing whips. After twenty-one intense minutes of brutal combat, he beat them all down, though it cost him valuable time. He then deactivated his Vestuto and continued running toward the hills without it.

On top of the hill stood the Sandy Wave, a blinding, maze-like wall of ever-shifting sand that had not been there during our reconnaissance. It rose 33 meters tall and was 5 meters wide. If you cut or punched it, the wall regenerated instantly. Weird… Galer pondered after a quick examination. I, who had finally caught up to the hill section, went with a different plan.

"Oh no, the maze is going to slow me down even more," I thought. In an act of desperation, I used my longsword as a tool, jumping and stabbing into the ever-regenerating wall along the hill's edge. It was slow and exhausting, but in my head it was a good strategy that didn't rely on luck to navigate the maze. After one full hour of continuous sword jumps and climbs, I reached the downhill part and sprinted toward the desert. I was now in the top 50. Galer, in the same time, had to fight against Jabare Magkosi.

The champion stood waiting for him with a wide grin.

"I did this Soul Wall so I can fight off the competition if luck demands it. But for you, I purposely led you here. You are my 19th target, Galer. Ahhh." He let out an exuberant sigh. So that was why the wall had appeared and moved and shifted constantly... it all made sense now. I thought it would be someone else, but the champion himself was holding back, waiting for a worthy fight. Jabare laughed.

"Ohh, I can still easy get first place and I will after beating you. AHHHHH!" He drew his wide sword and rose a massive sand wave toward Galer, who reacted sharply with his lighted legs. Jumping three times in quick succession, a pseudo air-walk he dodged and got behind the champion, following up with a lightning-fast combo of light knives. But none made connection.

Jabare countered with Sand Veil, a smooth swirling barrier of sand that absorbed every impact, holding his sword motionless and rendering the attacks useless. With that, the champion used his wall to create a ramp, dissipating it into thousands of sand needles and throwing 10, 000 of them in one smooth motion. Galer responded by activating his light aura, causing the sand to fall harmlessly to the ground before impact.

Jabare stopped on the jump and went face to face with Galer, touching his own chin with a thoughtful grin.

"That's new. Usually at least some make connection."

"That means we are 100% at each other. No need to test the Sandfields. Let's amp the ante, okay? Vestuto time. Aghhhhhhh!"

"Desert Soul Sovereign Vestuto!" In a short, bursting scream, Jabare transformed. His Animo surged to a whopping 3, 521. Sand-like cape flowed from his armor, moving at his will, while the sand extended across his attire, acting as a living defensive tool. The cape could form fists, spears, or additional limbs on command, giving him multi-directional attacks and defense. This was his full power, the Desert Soul Sovereign. Galer watched him with his spirit-reading ability, ready to match it in kind.

He activated his Vestuto first.

"Before we start to go at it. Give me two minutes to recover," Galer asked. Jabare grinned.

"Yes, I can give you the time. I want to fight you fair and square, after all." He waited in anticipation, adding with a warning tone, "But do not attempt to run. I will not like that." Galer chuckled.

"That makes no sense. Where should I run? Haha, no... I just need to recover my Animo." His turquoise color with a light-embedded green on his crest ramped up. His Vestuto surged from 2, 909 back to 3, 295. Then the red burst activated, pushing his Animo to 3, 500. Both of them shot forward at crazy speeds. Galer's Christaller claws grew sharper as he struck toward the champion. The strong claws met the Sand Veil, which caught and held them in place.

At the same time, Jabare's sand cape formed a massive fist and two additional hands, preparing a loaded cut with his wide sword, now reinforced by swirling sand for a much stronger edge. The sand fist slammed into Galer's face at the same moment the sword struck his chest. Galer bled from inside his armor, spitting blood and coughing.

"Okay, thanks for showing me all that you can do," Galer said with a bloody grin.

"Then I will answer in kind also. I don't know how to use it for long, but here goes nothing." Black color mixed with red burst erupted across his crest, creating his new Crystalline State. The two energies layered over each other in a mesmerizing fusion — deep obsidian black swirling with violent crimson-red bursts, forming sharp, living crystal plates that covered his armor.

The black shade gave the crystals an ominous, almost void-like depth, while the red burst pulsed like molten fire trapped inside the translucent like christal glass. The transformation was breathtaking and terrifying at the same time. His Animo surged upward by another 200 points, the pressure around him growing heavier with every heartbeat as he slowly powered up a devastating move. Galer's single visible eye glowed with fierce determination behind the crystalline lens.

For a split second, the air itself seemed to tremble. Then, with a quick, cheat-like burst of dark light that distorted the space around him, he gained the decisive impact edge. But the Desert Soul Sovereign Vestuto reacted on instinct. Passive sand soul energy surged, creating two massive soul sand hands that grabbed and tried to hold the rotating claws at bay. The cape flapped wildly around Jabare as the impact edge generated a powerful shockwave that rippled across the active battlefield.

Galer's attack failed to break through completely, but Jabare was visibly stunned. He had never expected such raw power from his opponent. Galer didn't hesitate. He charged again. Jabare understood instantly that this move was too dangerous to allow. He rushed forward to stop him, but it was in vain. As he closed the distance, Galer's impact edge was already fully loaded and ready. Galer charged at the champion once more.

Jabare met the charge head-on, using his own hands to grab both of the now faster-rotating claws. His sand had a better grip this time, but it wasn't as smooth as before. The force was overwhelming. The claws pushed forward with terrifying momentum, slowly overpowering the Sand Veil.

"As if the same move works again," Jabare growled, barely holding on.

"It's futile. It does not work again on me... you wont be able to stop it... this time," Galer replied coldly. Jabare tried to prepare his cape in a stabbing spear form, but Galer laughed in response.

"Wrong idea!" The black shaded layer burst with full power. The pressure became so strong that Jabare's grip slipped completely. The Sand Veil shattered. Galer's claws tore straight through, stabbing deep into the champion's chest. Jabare's armor cracked and broke apart, blood spraying as he was launched backward like a cannonball. He smashed through not one, but five of his own sand walls in a chain of explosive impacts. At the same time, Galer coughed violently, gasping for air, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Now is too soon, body of mine… cough… fuck… it needed to be done…" Galer immediately switched his chest crest to light green for recovery while turning and running out of the hill area. The walls dissipated, revealing the normal hill state again. The sand wound up once more, creating its misty field and making visibility difficult, like its supposed to.

The wall, which had been protecting Jabare from the sand, was now fully open creating the perfect chance for Galer to find a hiding spot on an edge of the hill's end line. He sat down and began meditating to recover his Animo faster. The push back from the black and red burst combined force was too much for the current man. Jabare lost too much Animo, and the pain in his back and front was heavy on him. After four minutes, the awakened champion rose in anger.

Using his sand wave, he rushed ahead, thinking the man who had just humiliated his plan and destroyed his wall was now leading the pack.

"I will catchhh youuuu… Galer…" he said with a full energetic smile. While they had their twenty minutes of battling, I was fighting strong fighters on the desert stretch. I had reached the top 40 runners and was closing in on the shoreline, meeting the top 30. I beat two of them in pure sweat from the desert heat, running on fumes from my Heart Flame. The strong gushing wind helped me recover somewhat, making me feel greater. A sand-like wave hit me out of nowhere, but I dodged it thanks to my past training.

The energetic champion went toward the top 10, who had now started fighting each other. Jabare thought Galer was there among them. I was also running toward them, since everyone had now come to a standstill. The champion, with two big black spots on his broken armor and his upper body visible, was clearly still in major pain. He attacked the others with unique sand techniques like throwing needles or creating sand prisons. But the top 10 were not weak.

They stood their ground and retaliated, so Jabare could not move forward. Realizing Galer wasn't among them, he thought the rival must have gone further ahead. I ended up joining the now 26 people fighting for the number 1 spot, hitting each other in the ongoing mayhem. Monk Louzan commentated with super eagerness and passion, telling the spectators everything that was happening and how much better this year's Run to Glory was compared to last year's.

Thirty-three minutes later, only me, two other guys from Tabraca, and the champion remained, all in pain and moving on pure will. A running charge attack from all of us erupted in chaotic clashes. I got sand needles and chains wrapped around my body, holding me back, while the other two jumped Jabare. But they were ultimately beaten, losing their leg armbands. Now it was just me and him.

Jabare started to jog toward the finish line, thinking of his second place and how pissed he was that he had lost the championship, his chance for revenge, and how much he had wasted here. He thought he had planned it well, but here he was... second. His jog turned into a run. In my last bit of resistance, I finally freed myself from the chains and started running as well. But the sand needles inside my body made me feel twice my weight. I knew I was too slow to catch him back.

Then the somewhat recovering Galer swooshed past me. Jabare turned, comprehending after witnessing Galer slowly catching up that he had been behind recovering the whole time. Even so, he knew there wouldn't be enough time. Mustering his last resort, he unleashed Sand Chains and Sand Prison. Yet Galer dodged them and cut them apart with his light knives before they could make contact. Both were now on the last 10 km, fighting on the line for the win.

And as luck had it, upon reaching the town, Galer's last struggle, still a little behind Jabare Magkosi, who with all his last resort moves constantly pulled ahead, led to a final ditch effort. Galer collided with him into a shop market. They fought while rolling across the street, creating a true do-or-die moment. Galer accepted all of the hits from Jabare. It was a last-resort strategy: grit against power. Because both now understood exactly what the other was planning.

Jabare went with everything he had, punching, kicking, trying to immobilize him. After the scuffling rolling battle, the luck came in. The rolling ended with Jabare taking a huge momentum hit on a building with his back. That freed Galer just before he would have been down for the count, his mind near blank. Galer right away stood up in a struggling motion and went ahead with only his guts and willpower driving him forward.

Jabare, in pure exhausted state and immediate pain with the black spots on his back, showed his people's grit by crawling toward the goal, refusing to give up. Galer was 10 meters ahead with only 3 kilometers remaining. I was still 6 kilometers behind, but I knew the cheering hadn't started yet. It was not over. So I pulled even twice my own weight, jogging hard and using the tiny remaining fire of my heart to pump my legs and make my running faster.

In slow, steady struggle, we all ran, meeting on the last 1 kilometer. Galer was ahead of the crawling champion by 1. 2 meters, and he was ahead of me by 1. 8 meters. We all had literally nothing left. I was running not even on fumes but on hope and dreams to get the championship. We all had the win in mind, only seeing a tunnel-like vision of the illustrious number 1 spot and its beautiful bonuses of glory. And not knowing, Galer was first, Jabare second, and me third. All of us fell K. O.

on the ground right at the finish line. We got the winnings. Sounds of fans screaming filled the air as we were given the drink and finally understood the end. Galer, in full glory of his achievement of grit, danced in joy. I congratulated him but was also pissed at myself. Jabare came back to us, laughing while clearly showing anger marks on his forehead.

"It was a reaaallll goood run, but remember us people from Chaddore always come back for the hunt, not giving up after a failure. Meaning I will get the crown back. Yet still I can't say I did not enjoy this Run to Glory event." We all clapped each other up, saying yeah, it was fun. Puh. Louzan was still on the mic, and all the partying people who surrounded us joined in, transporting us toward the city as it was so good.

Richárde was also very happy, knowing that he and the hired newspaper team would sell this tourney so well. His product would get more recognition with this event, even growing more now in sales. Hahahah. All happy in their own way. The event ended in glory. The losing contenders also celebrated in town, talking to the top 3 and vowing to train harder to get stronger and get revenge. With that, going to the Town Hall and getting our rewards in hand made me truly understand what a day today was.