Chapter 16: Run

"Stop, it's already noon. Let's eat a bit, and then you can continue your exercise."

"Understood. Ivaar, do you think you're getting closer to mastering this exercise?"

"I think so. I can perform a burpee with the aura, but the transition from the push-up to the squat is still too slow. Right now, I need about five seconds — a far cry from the usual one second for a proper burpee."

"Sounds like we're in the same boat. I bet we'll get it by the end of the day. Don't you think?"

"Absolutely. Today we'll nail this exercise."

Nargomedov chuckled. "I can see you're motivated, kids. Here's the deal: if you can do a burpee in less than two seconds — the push-up, the transition to the squat, and the squat itself — all with the help of your aura, you'll be done for the day and get some well-deserved rest."

"Alright, Ivaar, no time to waste. Let's eat quickly so we can get back to training."

They scarfed down their meals, barely tasting the food, their minds locked on the challenge ahead. The afternoon sun hung heavy in the sky as they returned to their training ground, sweat already forming on their brows. Each attempt pushed their bodies to the brink, the aura humming faintly around them, barely visible in the shimmering heat.

9:00 PM:

"Well done, kids. You've passed today's little challenge."

"Little challenge? My ass," Mickael grumbled. "We did it, but it's already 9 PM. That's when we would've finished anyway."

"Don't be a sore loser, Mickael. Tomorrow you might have better luck," Ivaar teased, though his exhaustion made his voice sound more like a croak.

The Next Day:

Despite last night's exhaustion, they had recovered well, ready for another day of training. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and earth as they stood before Nargomedov, awaiting their next trial.

"What's the plan today, Chief?" Mickael asked.

Nargomedov raised an eyebrow. "Chief? Are you calling me Chief, Mickael?"

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?"

Nargomedov laughed. "No, no problem. Your parents must've raised you the hard way, hahaha."

Mickael frowned. What's the old geezer talking about? I just called him Chief.

What Mickael didn't know was that only members of the national army's special forces referred to their superiors as "Chief."

"Alright, let's move on," Nargomedov continued. "Today, you won't be using the aura on the surface of your body but inside it — on your heart, to be precise. Applying aura directly to your muscles increases their effectiveness, and this enhancement is proportional to the aura level you use. But if you apply aura to your heart simultaneously, the increased blood flow, now saturated with aura, will push your muscles beyond their normal limits. To practice this, you're going to run."

"Run? But we can only hold the aura for about a minute, and only in one place at a time," Ivaar objected.

"Don't worry, Ivaar. This is just the beginning. For now, you'll run short distances, focusing on applying the aura solely to your heart."

"Understood. What's the first distance?" Mickael asked eagerly.

"Whoa, calm down, Mickael. You'll start by getting used to applying the aura to your heart. Once you get the hang of that, then you'll start moving. Let's begin."

The training was grueling. Each attempt left their chests heaving, hearts racing, and legs quivering. Sweat slicked their brows, and the morning sun climbed higher, casting long shadows across the ground. Nargomedov watched silently, arms folded, occasionally offering a nod of approval or a sharp correction.

Ivaar clenched his fists, feeling the faint pulse of aura inside his chest. Each beat echoed through his body, steady and distinct, like a drum guiding his every movement. He inhaled deeply, his senses sharpening as he tuned in to the rhythmic pounding of his heart, each thud resonating with a clarity that made the world around him fade. Willing the aura to flow through it, he felt his body tingle with warmth as his heart surged, pumping enhanced blood to his muscles. He stand up feeling lighter, faster — until the aura slipped, and his legs faltered.

Mickael pushed himself harder, the competitive fire in his eyes blazing. He could feel the rush of power every time he got the technique right, the ground blurring beneath his feet. Yet each success was fleeting, the aura flickering out just as quickly as it surged.

By midday, both boys collapsed onto the grass, panting. Nargomedov approached, crouching down with a smirk. "You're getting there. Don't expect to master it in one day. Aura control takes patience."

Ivaar wiped his brow and grinned weakly. "We'll get it, Chief."

Nargomedov chuckled. "That's the spirit. Take five minutes, then back on your feet. We're just getting started."