Only 3 miles left to go. But she had only one. Even though 500 miles were nothing much to me, running with all my strength took quite a lot out of me. I was already using my maximum energy. I tried to think of anything my dad told me that could help me. I thought and thought and went through my memories. I tried to remember every scenario where that 6-foot-tall bearded man was always wearing a lofty t-shirt and shorts.
Something? Anything? Then I remembered a phrase he always said when I was too tired to finish the last ten miles. Breathe in the air and roar like a dragon. Ever since I was a kid I never understood what he meant and he never explained it either. Whenever I asked he said I'd understand eventually. I always thought he just meant breathe in and breathe out heavily. But ever since I got here, everything he said has been useful. So I doubted this phrase was useless. I placed my hope on my dad and tried to understand the meaning of this phrase. Even if I did pass the trials and even if I did become the master annihilator I knew that if I failed to honor my dad here I would regret it all the way to the end.
Dragon's roar? What can that mean? Ok, I can think of three main things he may have meant. First was the ancient creature, the dragon which had the ability to breathe fire. There is no way he wanted me to breathe fire. So next option, there was a special material called Dragonites. There was a warrior race at the far end of the galaxy and they fed on Dragonites. They called themselves Shreekers. But that had nothing to do with me. The last was a martial technique called Dragon Arts. I never learned it before. But according to what I know it did have a few footwork styles. But I can't pull that- wait… Dragonites…Shreekers... Oh my god! Maybe he meant that. After taking in a huge breath, Shreekers literally shriek like a dragon roars. Then all their bodily strain disappears and they get their energy again. But this method is also usable by humans! They have an adaptable respiratory system! (Ok I know what I'm saying might not make sense but bear with me). My dad made me stay underwater for as long as I could. After years of practice, I could stay for an hour underwater because of all the air I could breathe in. My dad also taught me a special way of breathing which would allow me to reduce the strain on my muscles after training. It was to breathe out straight from the lungs and not from the mouth. I had to make the air rhythmically burst out along with all my strain.
"Okay, I can do this. I can pull this off. Come on" I said to myself.
I breathed in all the air I could while realizing that I had half a mile left and Nicola had a quarter left. I kept on breathing in. once I reached the limit my chest was like a half-blown balloon. I let it all out from the core of my lung.
"Roooaaaarrr!" I, well, roared.