Chapter 338 No Room for Mistakes
If anything went wrong—whether it was an accident, a fall, or even the slightest slip—medical crews were on standby, ready to rush in. This course was rated at A-level difficulty. One moment of distraction could spell disaster.
“Relax, Mystro,” Tilda said with a sharp grin. “Honestly, this championship is mine for the taking. Since I’ve got the chance, there’s no way I’m handing this title to anyone else.” She clenched her fists, eyes burning with determination.
Seeing that fire in Tilda’s gaze, Mystro finally let out a breath of relief. Then the starter’s pistol cracked through the air. And so, the race began. The gates then swung open.
Mystro and Tilda flashed forward like arrows loosed from a bowstring, surging ahead at breakneck speed. Within seconds, they’d left the other teams trailing behind, grabbing the lead position.
Right on their heels were Santiago and Kayden, running as a pair. Kayden’s eyes, hidden behind his goggles, flickered as he watched Tilda in first place. For just a moment, something stirred inside him. But he shook it off and told himself, “Forget it. Focus on the race first.” Whatever was going on with Tilda could wait until the race was finished. He wouldn’t give up, regardless. He was sure the family would be together again.
Meanwhile, Santiago stayed right on Tilda’s heels. Unlike Kayden, his head wasn’t full of complicated thoughts. In his mind, he had only two objectives: to overtake Tilda, and to take the championship. He wanted to crush Tilda and wipe the grin off her face. Some might call it childish, but Santiago didn’t care. Losing to anyone was acceptable, just not to Tilda.
Kayden saw Santiago push past him, straining to get ahead, and his brows drew tight. “Santiago, you’re going too fast. Slow down! There’s a slope up ahead!”
“It’s fine, Kayden. Just watch. I’m going to win this championship!”
“You’re crazy. This is doubles skiing. We have to stay in sync. Stop fixating on the others and think about holding steady!”
The words snapped Santiago back to his senses. Right. He had almost forgotten. This was doubles, not a solo run. Victory only counted if both crossed the finish line together. Even if he blazed past everyone and finished first, it would mean nothing.
Just then, a sharp pain tore through Santiago's hand gripping the ski pole. It had to be from the clash earlier with Mystro. The pain threw him off for a split second, and his skis nearly gave out beneath him.
“Santiago!”
Kayden lunged forward and caught him, steadying his balance just in time.
“… Thanks, Kayden.” Even with his stubborn pride, Santiago couldn’t help but thank Kayden. He had almost gone down hard. It was like spinning out in the Rocky Mountains race—crashing here would have been beyond humiliating.
“Watch yourself! Next time I might not get the chance to pull you back up!” Kayden snapped.
That slip cost them. Two more teams surged past, chasing after Tilda and Mystro. By the time Santiago and Kayden regained momentum, they had already fallen back to fourth place.
Tilda and Mystro, still holding first place, reached the first slope. The drone cameras caught every second as the two launched into a flawless 360-degree spin in midair, landing cleanly and charging forward again toward the finishing line. The crowd erupted in gasps and cheers.
This was only a sprint event, not a freestyle showcase. No one was supposed to waste time on tricks. Yet their spin was so precise, so perfectly in sync, it looked less like two people and more like mirror images moving from the same mind. The balance was seamless, flawless, almost eerie. It even made the audience wonder if the two of them had been breathing in rhythm as they pulled it off. If style points were on the table, Tilda and Mystro would have scored a perfect ten. Even seasoned pros couldn’t have matched the beauty of their performance.
Meanwhile, Santiago and Kayden fought their way back after stabilizing, clawing into second place with sheer technical skill. But Tilda and Mystro were still way out in front.
“Kayden, we can’t just sit back like this,” Santiago shouted. “We have to win! Otherwise, Tilda will never take us seriously!”
‘… I know.” For Santiago, victory meant more than pride. Only if he won would he have the right to face Tilda, to hand over what he had been carrying for her. Losing would leave him powerless, unable to even look her in the eye, let alone show her how much he cared as a brother.
“Santiago, no more rookie mistakes. This isn’t just about Tilda. No matter who we’re up against, the goal is the same—first place. Got it?”
“I got it!”
The brothers pushed harder, their skis cutting into the snow with renewed force. Once Santiago cooled his head, the rhythm between him and Kayden finally clicked. Years of growing up together, years of practice on the slopes, had honed an almost instinctive bond. Bit by bit, their speed climbed. The gap between them and the leaders began to shrink.
Then the second steep drop loomed ahead. Tilda and Mystro launched off it like eagles taking flight, soaring high before landing smoothly on the downhill slope and charging forward without losing an ounce of momentum.