“Here we are!”
We arrive at our destination. According to what I see, our next testing facility is a large semi-circle track, perhaps 800 metres around. A few gadgets are also visible, routinely spread in the middle of the field, most likely used to test other measurable qualities of strength.
“So, shall we begin?” says the teacher, enunciating each word.
Without responding, I take that as an incentive to go to the white starting line nearby. Beginning our respective preparations, I enter into a 4-point stance, preparing to push off both legs for maximum force production. Morgana does the same, no doubt wishing to optimise efficiency. But the black-haired boy and Crilandese girl choose otherwise. Looking rather leisurely, the former stands, hands still in pockets, and the latter smirks, arms crossed all the while.
That leaves the elf. Who, from what I can tell, looks ready to ask our teacher a question.
He raises an arm. “Teach!” Shouts the elf, nodding with fervent display.
Our teacher responds with a smile. “Yes?”
“Are we allowed to use magic for our tests?”
At his query, our teacher nods and hands out two thumbs up.
“So long as the magic is limited to physical enhancement, then yes!”
“Alright!” the elf exclaims, bouncing up and down.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. That elf’s been carrying a sword with him the whole time, after all, so the chances of him being a close-range fighter weren’t nil.
Still.
Body Reinforcement magic, huh?
It’s a rare field of study to pursue, all things considered. Shame that’s out of my expertise. Though, at least I have the opportunity to witness it in person.
My eyes fall on the blonde elf, watching his hands and body.
Closing his eyes, he begins with a deep breath, filling his lungs with air. As he slowly opens them, a smile creeps onto his face, and his lips move in motion.
“The race starts now! First one to finish gets extra points!”
All of a sudden, our teacher announces the race. Rather than establish a time like a sensible person, he chooses instead the path least tread, that of abrupt and sudden declaration.
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Great.
While looking at the others, I realise that they’ve already begun to run.
What an unfortunate series of events.
Assessing the speeds of the top two runners, I understand it's futile to compete.
Instead, being the avid learner I am, I choose the watch the elf, understanding that there’s more to be gained from observation. Ultimately, whatever benefit to gain from a juvenile run is second to greater magical understanding.
Knowledge is power, as they say.
I wait, watching the elf from the corner of my eye.
Seemingly about to recite an incantation, he smirks.
“Canticum Errum”.
I see it now. Webs of white, glowing like LEDs appear beneath the elf boy’s skin, covering all visible areas. Hands, legs, neck, and any and all space revealed above clothing shine.
Peculiar.
His veins are now bulging too. More vascular than before. As if trying to claw their way out of his body and escape to god knows where.
“Alrighty!”
Wrapping things up, the elf enters the same crouching position.
“Still excited, aren’t you?” laughs the teacher. This seems to be of amusement to him.
“Huh?” mumbles a befuddled elf. “Of course I am!”
How quaint. Judging from his confidence, the elf may hold some value in physical activity. Those who lack in certain areas must make up for it in others, after all.
Looking at the elf, I come up with a suggestion. “Shall we race?” I haphazardly propose. “You can’t catch up to the others anyway, so why not settle it between the both of us?”
He tilts his head as if stunned. “Can’t catch up?”
Once again, the elf is confused, as if finding my statement to be lacking.
Ignoring his perplexity, I continue. “On the count of three. Three, two, one…”
With the declaration of one, we sprint. Running atop the field, I channel all my stamina into my body and make sure to inhale through my mouth. While I have some concerns over if I could surpass our elf here, vague confidence in victory still pushes me regardless.
Hah…
If my current estimation is correct, I should be running at 7.5m/s, meaning that I should be able to do a lap in 98 seconds.
I’m not the most physical person out there, but the prospect of competition gets my blood boiling. So much so that up until this point, I haven’t even looked at the elf once.
As I run, my attention tears between myself and the environment around me.
I can’t help it. I need someone to compare myself against for good measure.
In the end, my curiosity wins, and for a split second, I’m able to witness the elf running.
What I see astounds me.
Though we started off at the same point, the elf’s now no more than a figure in the distance.
At this point, he’s already crossed a quarter of the track. No, more than that.
He’s at 225 metres already. And if the time so far is 11 seconds, then that would mean our elf is running at a consistent speed of 20 m/s.
It’s… Impressive. He might be a barbaric idiot, but he’s a fast one. And speaking of barbarism, while I didn’t want to believe it at first, it occurs to me that the elf is actually running on all fours.
As in how a quadrupled creature would. Using all four limbs to spur him onward, hands rubbing against the floor…
Why…
Is there really a reason as to why he would do such a thing? Humanoid bone structure, whether you are an elf or a human is not made for quadrupedal locomotion. Not to mention that most people aren’t trained to run on all fours, especially at such speeds.
That brings up a question in my mind. Was he raised in a jungle, or better yet, was he raised by animals?
Pondering over the reasoning, I continue my run, now slightly demotivated.