Capítulo 78: Disappointment
3:00 PM, 20 minutes since the start of the race; Jyorta gasped for breath, feeling exhausted. He looked to his left, noticing students run in the opposite direction, beyond the gorge. To his front was the White Building, separated by a barrier that prevented his exit.
Jyorta reached the end, following the crowd as he turned left, walking through a small section that lacked the gorge. With his back facing the White Building, he began to jog forward, beginning his return. He was just halfway into the first round.
"Not again!" He groaned, gazing at a large rock that came into view, spanning the width of the path. It was 5 metres in height, its surface rough, forming indentations of all shapes. Jyorta hurriedly trailed his gaze, looking at a spot that seemed easier to climb.
'Well, it's not like the others are idiots.' He gazed at a section on the rock that looked the easiest to climb, evident by a small crowd that had formed before it. Trial tested by the students that came before them, they had figured out the place that seemed the easiest.
"Don't fight, the crowd has gotten thin. Conserve your energy; don't waste it on meaningless fights." The moment he neared the area, Jyorta shouted, receiving numerous glares. A minute later, Jyorta got the opportunity to climb over, looking from the top that was similar to a cliff.
Only at this place was the descent easier; even if climbing at other places was easy, descending from there led to grave injuries should they slip up. That was why Jyorta joined the crowded area even if he had to waste an extra minute. After all, experience mattered. The ones that went first had braved the uncharted path, suffering various injuries.
20 seconds later, Jyorta reached the ground, feeling pain in his ankles. The ground was uneven, a single misstep leading to a sprain. Even though he had gotten a bit used to the unevenness, it was still a daunting path to traverse. The staff had taken measures to create variations per each path, ensuring the students wouldn't get accustomed to the terrain.
Many boulders blocked his path but, as long as there was some gap along the sides, Jyorta would squeeze through them. Moreover, since the crowd had considerably thinned out, he didn't have to wrestle his way for every step forward.
"Hello, Jyorta," A voice resounded behind him. The next second, the figure of Ashten Coorg appeared, looking fine for the most part. He then waved his hands, overtaking Jyorta, "Bye, Jyorta."
"This race is favoured towards the Warriors." Jyorta murmured, trying to control his breath, intending to conserve his stamina. He then looked to his back, noticing George flash him a smile.
"Long time no see, Jyorta." George smiled, retracting his gaze, marching forward, keeping an eye on the ground. He was a head taller than Jyorta, his body considerably built. Currently, he was the least injured among everyone he had noticed.
'Did he stand at the very end and managed to avoid the slaughter-fest that happened?' Jyorta thought, finding a suitably sized rock to sit on. He planned to rest for a couple of minutes before resuming his run. As he massaged his aching legs, he noticed a figure coming to a halt next to him.
"Are you tired?" Haesha inquired, looking at his appearance.
"Yeah," Jyorta nodded, his words incoherent as he struggled to catch his breath. "I got plenty of hits in the starting area."
"Don't rest for more than 5 minutes. A huge crowd is coming," Haesha pointed towards a spot in the previous path, at a position 200 metres from the White Building. "They are part of the gang that waited at the starting line after seeing that…fight between the students that entered first."
"You seem quite fine," Jyorta said, taking a glance at her appearance.
"Haesha, let us hurry before more people crowd the area." A girl's voice resounded as 4 girls arrived, sporting mild injuries.
"See you at the finishing line, Jyorta." Haesha waved her hands, continuing to run along with her friends. They were commenting and giggling with each other, looking relaxed. One of them glanced his way and whispered to a friend near her.
'I hope they are not badmouthing me.' Jyorta thought, feeling drained. A minute later, he saw the number of people passing by him increase, making the path feel a bit crowded once again.
"I should get going," Jyorta stood up, feeling the muscles in his legs ache. He then began to jog, taking his time to conserve his energy, slowly going forward. He then noticed a petite figure jogging beside him, having not broken a sweat.
The moment he gazed at her, the blue soul in him immediately overlaid a prepared persona over his—one of calm, unflustered at everything.
"Hello there, Jyorta. You seem pretty beaten up." Laila said, flashing a gentle smile. Her tracksuit lacked a single blemish, as if she had just arrived. She jogged on the uneven ground, not once losing her balance, enjoying the atmosphere.
"Hello Laila," Jyorta let out a self-deprecating laugh, "I got under a stampede twice, just my bad luck."
"Well, don't delay too much. The time is ticking away," Laila smiled, her laughter gentle. She then overtook him, quickly traversing the path without trouble.
'As expected of Rhachis Ancestor Space; something like this is a mere cakewalk for her. ' Jyorta gazed forward, noticing another obstacle that had appeared. It was a pit, spanning 5 metres in length and sporting a depth of 2 metres.
Jyorta looked at Laila perform a jump, landing inside the pit with composure. She then glanced at Jyorta, motioning for him to follow with her eyes.
Laila crouched low, her expression focused on the wall before her. Springing forth like a feral being, she rapidly approached the wall and jumped, bringing her feet forward and raising her hand up. The moment her soles touched the wall, her legs acted as the springs that cushioned her momentum, storing the kinetic energy in her.
As her hands dug into the soil on the top, she exerted force into her legs, sending a bit of soil downwards as her body shot up. Mimicking the sprinting pose of a cheetah, she arrived above ground, taking a couple of steps forward to dissipate her built up momentum.
As she dusted her hands that were coated with dust, she waved at Jyorta, proceeding to jog further. Having seen her actions at full swing, Jyorta was star-struck, stunned into silence for a couple of seconds.
"She is so cool." Jyorta took in a deep breath and jumped into the pit, rolling on the floor a couple of times to ease the momentum. He then stood up and gazed at the 2 metre high wall before him, his surroundings being relatively darker.
Another boy was inside the pit, also having witnessed Laila's jump. He crouched low and sprinted, heading towards the wall, planning to mimic her actions. The moment he saw his pose, Jyorta somehow knew that the boy was about to screw up.
A second later, he began to run after the boy, separated by some distance, his gaze boring into the boy's actions. The boy imitated Laila's actions, performing a jump, bringing his legs forward while raising his hands. His legs touched the wall but, his hands were a fraction of a second late, initiating the response from his legs that had built up power.
Like a spring released from its compression, his legs unravelled, pushing his body back. Moreover, his contact with the wall wasn't perfect in the first place, making his foot slip, bringing his legs downward.
The boy fell on the ground, situated 3 feet before the wall, crouched, feeling some pain in his limbs. Suddenly, a massive weight stepped on his back, its pressure forcing out the air in his lungs. Using the kneeling boy's back as a foothold, Jyorta jumped up, pushing his hands to reach above ground while also raising his right leg to the side.
The moment his hands made contact, he transferred the rest of the momentum to his right leg, making it reach the surface. Adding force onto his right leg, he pulled his body up, rolling in a clockwise direction, coming to a stop after four rotations.
He picked himself up and dusted his dirty tracksuit, greeting a string of expletives. Jyorta peered forward, noticing the boy attempting to jump once again. Without willing to show his face or make his voice known, Jyorta turned around, dashing away from the area.
Only when he had overtaken at least 10 people did he slow down, conserving his energy as he jogged forth. Finally, he had reached the area near the Head Office Building, taking a right turn and passing through the small section that lacked a gorge.
Facing his back to the Head Office Building, he began jogging forward, passing one injured student after another. Many were resting, having suffered numerous injuries that weren't serious to the extent to be pulled away from the race. He then looked to his left, noticing George running on the adjacent path.
"He has already completed the second round," Jyorta muttered, noticing George's complexion that looked brisk. It seemed he still had a lot of stamina left in him, judging by his unwavering pace and his demeanour brimming with fighting spirit.
Jyorta continued to jog, subconsciously raising his speed after having witnessed George. When he had reached the White Building once again, a booming voice rang out, "50 minutes are up; you only have an hour remaining."
Hearing the voice, the students groaned, looking at the distance they had traversed. Jyorta looked at the White Building before him, his mood turning worse, 'I have only traversed 3 kilometres till now. If I want to even finish the race, I would need to speed up.'
Gritting his teeth, Jyorta raised his speed, noticing a couple of students near him break into a sprint, unearthing all the energy from their bodies. Jyorta too followed suit, brushing past one obstacle after another.
As time passed, Jyorta's breathing became ragged, his legs failing to keep up with his brain's coordination. Finally, when he arrived before the Head Office again, the booming voice resounded, signalling the end of the race.
"Time's up!"
Jyorta tripped at the sound, falling on the ground and further scraping his injuries, his tracksuit covered with blood. He looked towards his right, looking at the people farther away, separated by many gorges, his expression turning dull.
'In the end, I only managed to travel 8 kilometres.'
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
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