Chapter 27 - A Competition [2]
"Step up to your designated lanes when your names are called!"
Professor Aine tapped her tablet, reading off the first batch of paired names in her soft, clear voice.
"Lane one: Marcus from Class 1-B and Zion from Class 1-F!"
She announced.
Zion’s eyes lit up the instant his name was called first.
"Looks like I’m up first! Watch closely, Vael!"
Zion said, giving me a confident grin before jogging toward the starting line. He took position in lane two right beside a tall student from Class 1-B who was already stretching his legs with a smug expression.
The student from Class 1-B didn’t even bother looking at Zion properly, casually shaking out his arms as if the result was already predetermined.
"Try to keep up, F-class."
Marcus remarked coldly, taking a low starting stance on the track.
Zion didn’t say a word back. He simply lowered his body, his cheerful demeanor instantly vanishing as he focused his gaze on the finish line fifty meters away.
Swoosh~
Faint golden mana began to coil around his legs, condensing with an intensity that made the surrounding grass rustle softly. I watched from the sidelines, crossing my arms as a light smile formed on my face.
’That poor guy has no idea who he’s standing next to.’
I thought to myself.
"On your marks..."
Professor Russel raised his heavy hand into the air, holding a timer device in his palm.
"Get set..."
The air grew dead silent across the entire training yard as both runners froze in their starting positions.
SWISH!
Then Professor Russel brought his hand down, signaling the start of the sprint!
BOOM!
The ground beneath Zion’s boots exploded in a cloud of dirt and shattered grass. In less than a fraction of a second, Zion transformed into a streak of blinding golden light, tearing down the track with a sonic pop that kicked up a massive gust of wind!
"Wha--?!"
Marcus had barely taken his second stride before Zion crossed the fifty-meter finish line.
"Finish! Zion—1.82 seconds!"
Professor Russel called out, checking his timer with a satisfied nod.
"..."
The entire training yard fell into an absolute, suffocating silence.
The students of Class 1-B froze, their arrogant expressions completely shattering as they stared at Zion, who was casually stretching his calves at the end of the track without even breathing hard.
Marcus stopped halfway down the track, his mouth wide open in utter shock as he stared at Zion’s back in complete disbelief.
"1.82 seconds...?! Is that guy even human?!"
"That’s faster than the upperclassmen records!"
Suppressed gasps and frantic whispers erupted among the Class 1-B students as they processed what had just happened.
Zion turned around, waving his hand toward our side of the field with a broad, triumph smile.
He walked back toward our formation, wiping a faint bead of sweat from his forehead as he stopped right in front of me.
"How was that for a start?"
Zion asked, grinning proudly with his hands on his hips.
"Not bad. But you wasted too much mana at the start line."
I replied, smirking as I pointed at the small crater he had left behind in his lane.
"Hey! A win is a win!"
He laughed, crossing his arms.
"Next pair!"
Professor Aine’s voice rang out, breaking through the noisy chatter of the crowd.
"Lane two: Vael from Class 1-F and Drake from Class 1-B!"
She announced my name clearly. I shifted my shoulders, rolling my neck as I stepped out from the line of students.
"Your turn, Vael. Show them what you can do."
Zion said, slapping my shoulder encouragingly as I passed him.
"Just watch."
I replied calmly, walking toward the starting line where my opponent was already waiting for me with a deeply tense, cautious look on his face.
Having just witnessed Zion’s monstrous display, the student from Class 1-B was no longer showing any of the earlier arrogance, his eyes tracking my steps with visible nervousness.
I stepped into lane two, taking a balanced starting stance as I channeled a steady, controlled flow of ice mana through my lower body.
Fwoosh~
Frost began to lightly coat the soles of my shoes, creating a perfectly slick, frictionless layer between my boots and the ground.
’I don’t need raw explosive power like Zion.’
I thought to myself as I locked my eyes on the fifty-meter finish line.
’I just need absolute efficiency.’
"On your marks..."
Professor Russel raised his arm once more.
"Get set..."
I lowered my center of gravity, feeling the cool mana stabilize my legs completely.
FWISH!
Then Professor Russel brought down his hand.
BAM! SWIIISH!
I propelled myself forward, but instead of just kicking up dirt with brute force, I glided forward like an arrow released from a bow, my boots skimming across the grass on a continuous layer of micro-ice with zero friction!
My speed accelerated exponentially with every millisecond, my body blurring into a translucent blue line that zipped past the track in the blink of an eye.
THUD!
I crossed the fifty-meter mark smoothly, coming to a clean stop without losing my balance for even a second.
"Finish! Vael—1.95 seconds!"
Professor Russel announced loudly, recording the time on his clipboard. It was a good time, but I still lost to Zion.
And once again, the training yard went dead quiet.
"..."
Two students from Class 1-F had just broken the sub-two-second mark back-to-back, leaving the entire Class 1-B completely speechless.
I turned around, shaking the light frost off my boots as I walked back toward our section with a calm smile.
Zion was waiting for me with his arms crossed, a massive grin plastered across his face.
"Under two seconds! Not bad at all, Vael!"
He said, giving me a strong high-five as I rejoined the line.
"Told you I wouldn’t lose easily."
I replied, smirking as I looked over at the pale, stunned faces of the Class 1-B students.This joint session was just getting started, and the gap they assumed existed between our classes was already beginning to shatter.
I may not be as good as Zion--but Vael’s natural athleticism and all the training I did for 2 months aren’t for nothing. I won’t let Zion steal the spotlight, I’ll really try to beat him to push him to do even better.
*****
As expected, most of the students from the [F-Class] lost to the [B-Class], and because of it—they started getting cocky again.
After Zion and I finished our turns, the rest of the matchups proceeded down the roster. The sheer difference in average talent and foundation quickly showed itself as Class 1-B began sweeping victory after victory in the subsequent lanes.
"I guess the other two just got lucky."
"Speed is probably all they have."
They whispered, downplaying the win Zion and I got against them. But the two of us just ignored them even though we can hear them loud and clear—they were deliberately trying to provoke us after all.
They stood in their tight group across the grass, snickering among themselves and casting smug, arrogant looks back at our section.
We don’t care—
’We can just show them that winning against them isn’t a fluke.’
A small smile appeared on my face.
There was no point in getting worked up over cheap taunts when there were still three more evaluation categories left to go in this physical session.
And just as I thought of that—
"Finish! Marcus—2 seconds!"
Professor Russel’s voice echoed through the yard. We all looked at the finish line of the 50 meters sprint, and at the end of it—we saw the student named Marcus.
He stood past the white finish line, dusting off his sleeves with an utterly stoic, unbothered expression while his paired opponent from Class 1-B panted heavily beside him.
I recognize his face—he’s a character from the game.
And also; he’s our classmate.
"W-What? Another F-Class student beat one of us..."
"Ugh... Another lucky bastard."
I heard the idiots from the [B-Class] mumble to themselves seeing Marcus beat one of their classmates. His score was also fast for a freshman.
The whispers on the opposite side of the field died down instantly, replaced by uncomfortable, bitter frowns as Class 1-B took another direct hit to their pride.
Marcus Lineman.
He was a tall, sharp-eyed guy who carried an intense, almost suffocating aura of seriousness around him wherever he went.
He’s an early rival for Zion. In the game, whenever there’s an event with ranking just like this session—he’s always second with Zion. Because of this, he later declared to Zion that he will surpass him.
He was a complete workaholic when it came to training, constantly driving himself to the absolute brink just to close the gap between him and the natural geniuses.
Zion welcomed his challenge with a smile on his face, and used that to grow even stronger. Their friendly yet fierce rivalry was one of the key factors that pushed Zion to unlock his higher-tier physical abilities earlier in the original story.
Anyway, I watched Marcus, nodding because he made the [B-Class] idiots silent again. But as I was doing so...
He turned on his heel to walk back toward our section, his hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets.
"...?"
I noticed him staring at me with a small glare.
His dark eyes locked straight onto mine as he crossed the grass, a sharp, piercing scowl settling over his features.
"Huh? What?"
I whispered to myself.
I blinked, genuinely caught off guard by the sudden hostility radiating off him for no apparent reason.
After that, he just looked away and went back to his place.
He brushed right past us, stepping toward the back row of Class 1-F without saying a single word to anyone.
"Ohh, looks like someone is feeling competitive against you."
Zion then whispered that to me. He leaned over slightly, nudging my arm with a mischievous grin plastered across his face as he watched Marcus take his spot in the back.
’Huh? Why me? What did I do?’
I asked in my head, all confused.
In the original game route, Marcus was supposed to be hyper-focused on Zion and Zion alone. I hadn’t done anything to provoke the guy since I arrived at the academy.