“Ready?” Tabitha asks everybody.

She’s the only one who looks ready.

“Get set… go!” she shouts.

Tabitha, far more enthusiastically than the rest of the group, pushes on her handlebar with all of her might to push the wagon forward. Cassiel, not wanting to be left behind and get crushed under the wagon, pushes as well. Their combined strength is enough to push the wagon with a decent speed that only gets easier once the wheels get rolling.

Really, Tabitha could do it all on her own.

“Rest in peace, back,” Fenrir says to himself as Rock and Shogun both push.

As for Oleader, Corwin, and Azalabulia – well, they are in last as anybody could have predicted and they start groaning and whining after just a couple of minutes.

“This ain’t really much of a race,” Tabitha tells Cassiel. They’re already far ahead of their competition.

Cassiel is too busy trying to keep up with Tabitha’s strength to respond. While she’s sweating and nervously trying her best to not trip, Tabitha is acting like this is the easiest thing she’s done all day!

“This isn’t even a race. She knew she was going to win,” Fenrir complains to Rock and Shogun. Then he gets an idea. Shogun is powerful and can fly. If Shogun is capable of flying around with all the crewmembers and even Rock, then he might be more useful here than Fenrir originally thought. “Alright, change of plans. Shogun, take the lead. Stand at the center here and use your wings, too. Rock, come to the back and push from there with me.”

The canines agree to his plan and get into their new positions. Without Fenrir and Rock taking up space behind the handlebar, Shogun can extend his wings and use them in addition to running along the ground. He even tries to flap them at the right angling to avoid pushing air back against the wagon, instead going under and around it. Rock struggles to keep her head pushed against the back of the wagon because of its height relative to her, but both her and Fenrir try their best from behind to push.

Thanks to their combined effort, they’re even starting to gain some distance on Tabitha and Cassiel.

Unfortunately, there is one group that has practically already given up.

“I… may-maybe I should work out more instead of only doing magic,” Oleander groans.

“But – but I like you petite,” Corwin says. “Allow me to work out more instead.”

“But I like you skinny! I don’t want you getting all bulked up!”

Despite Oleander’s and Corwin’s shared love for muscular beefcakes covered in sweat with bodies that belong to either lumberjacks or Russian bodybuilders, they both prefer each other’s slender figures the most.

“I have an idea!” Azalabulia declares.

“What is it?” Oleander asks her.

“Prepare, mortals! For I shall bring the dark technology of jet engines to this world! We shall emblazen our path to victory and grasp it within our claws!”

“Is ‘emblazen’ even a word?”

Azalabulia coughs and says, “We shall set the path before us aflame and snatch victory from the treacherous maw of purity!”

“I don’t really get it, but what’s your plan?”

Azalabulia takes her staff off from her back, climbs up onto the top of the wagon after much difficulty in doing so, and holds her staff out to the back of the wagon.

“Wait… don’t tell me you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do,” Oleander says.

“I am going to do exactly what you think I am going to do!” Azalabulia answers.

“So, you’re going to let Fenny treat you like a puppy and lick his bone?”

Any and all confidence and delusional roleplaying is sucked out from Azalabulia as she instead turns into a stuttering, blushing mess in shock that Oleander could say something so boldly.

“Yep, I’m right,” Oleander says.

“I – I am going to ignore wha-what you just said and – and my plan!” Azalabulia stutters out, not making enough sense for the others to understand her.

Though, while her words may not make much sense, what she does next does make sense.

“Bahamut!” she shouts, pointing her staff over the back of the wagon, “become like a jet and propel us forward! Unleash your dark flames and cover this star in your foul smog! Unleash the end of all ends and set to flames all before us until all that is left is the void of a black hole!”

Scratch that. She still doesn’t make any sense to Oleander and Corwin.

“Now, Bahamut!” she continues, “three… two… one… liftoff!”

A powerful, blinding blast of fiery magic shoots out from the tip of her staff like the jet of a rocket! The sound of its blast is violent enough to temporarily deafen all nearby, and they are sent forward at an insane speed!

“They” just so happens to refer to her and her staff.

By the time that Oleander and Corwin can see and hear again, they look ahead and see Azalabulia almost buried halfway underground with a serious wardrobe malfunction going on as smoke rises from her and her staff. The wagon itself hasn't moved an inch thanks to her failing to brace herself against it.

“I say we just leave her there,” Oleander says.

“What?!” Corwin shouts.

“I said we should leave her!” Oleander shouts back, the two of them behaving like an old couple with poor hearing.

“I cannot hear you!”

“Leave her!” Oleander shouts even louder.

“Lead her?!”

“Yeah, leave her!”

“Oh, alright! We shall lead her!”

While those two shout at each other and think they’re in agreement, Fenrir and Tabitha have both stopped their respective wagons to look behind them.

They’re already far enough ahead that they cannot even see the third group’s wagon, but they can see smoke rising from the distance.

They even get hit by the shockwave of sound from Azalabulia’s spell after a few moments.

“Do… do ya think they’re alright?” Tabitha asks Cassiel.

Cassiel takes the short break to try and regain her breath. She knows that the short girl next to her won’t want to stop for long.

“Rock,” Fenrir says, “go back there and check on them.”

With how much trouble Rock has been having keeping her head up and against the wagon’s rear, she eagerly accepts Fenrir’s order and runs back toward the smoke. An animal made out of literal rock isn’t very good for a race of speed in the first place.

“Just me and you now, Shogun. Let’s keep going!” Fenrir shouts.

The race resumes between the two leading wagons.

Oleander and Corwin finally manage to get up to Azalabulia with their wagon at the same time that Rock reaches her.

Azalabulia’s head and shoulders are both stuck underground. The only reason that the rest of her isn’t is because of her large breasts being unable to squeeze into the hole that the rest of her has made. Her outfit is all scorched, too, resulting in some risqué black panties showing underneath her uniform with rips and holes all over. Her pale skin is covered in soot and dirt as well.

“How should we lead her now?” Corwin asks Oleander.

“What? I said we should leave her,” Oleander answers.

“Ah… alright!”

With Rock’s help of biting Azalabulia by her shoes and pulling her backward, Azalabulia pushes against the ground with her hands and manages to pop her head out from the dirt!

Corwin is much better than Oleander at hiding his disappointment.

“I – I can do it! I just have to brace myself next time,” Azalabulia says. She can’t even stand up without wobbling around. “A-also… that was kind of fun… be-before the crashing part.”

“How are you even alive? You literally crashed into the ground at like, at least a hundred miles per hour. You made a small crater and got your head stuck in it!” Oleander says. “Your head should be pulp right now!”

“N-nothing defeats the immortal—”

“Don’t even start. Just help us push if you’re going to be alive.”

“I can – I can do it!” Azalabulia declares as she wobbles over to the wagon, slowly climbs back on top of it, and then moves the logs aside to make a spot for her to sit in with her back against the wagon.

“Please don’t. Please. Seriously. Don’t do it,” Oleander begs her. “You’re going to blow us all up and seriously kill yourself. Don’t—”

“Liftoff!”

Oleander and Corwin effectively get their backs glued to the front of the wagon as Azalabulia’s spell propels the wagon forward at an insane speed. Their terrified screams cannot be heard over the jet engine-like sound of her spell.

Rock is all alone now since she wasn’t standing in front of the wagon when it took off.

She looks to her left.

She looks to her right.

She smells something interesting in the grass, so she decides to roll around on it for a bit before squatting over it and then running off toward the others.