To this day, describing the exact height Dream Weaver's Zone has reached is a challenge for any writer.
It is a realm that defies simple vocabulary.
Yet, one only needs to look at two specific monts to understand the sheer, terrifying weight of her power.
The first was her final clash with Narita Brian during the Autumn Tenno Sho.
At the ti, faced with the Wolf King, whose Zone had sublimated into a seamless union with the shadows, Dream Weaver's own power—not yet ascended, still a "Cursed Blade"—swung a strike so divine it rivaled the gods, cleaving Narita Brian's shadow apart.
Granted, that specific strike was the result of layering skill upon skill and item upon item.
Without those accumulated buffs, she couldn't have channeled such a celestial blow back then.
The second mont occurred during the Kikuka Sho, in a direct confrontation with Shinzan.
Even before the race began, during that tense psychological buildup where runners stake their territory, Dream Weaver unsheathed her Cursed Blade Zone.
The re aura of it ntally shattered a fellow Uma Musu who hadn't even left the tunnel yet. That competitor withdrew from the race before her hooves even touched the turf.
And once that power sublimated into the "God-Slayer," she went on to defeat the strongest Uma Musu in that world:
Shinzan herself.
Since returning to the real world, Dream Weaver had never actually unleashed the full extent of this God-Slayer.
During the Hopeful Stakes, a re leak of her aura was enough to leave Sakura Yamato dazed and incoherent.
By the Satsuki Sho, even an awakened Tokai Teio had to rely entirely on her own Zone just to maintain top speed against the pressure of the unsheathed God-Slayer.
And when the blade truly left its scabbard—delivering a strike far weaker than the one used against Shinzan—Teio's spirit was instantly snuffed out.
It took her a long ti after the finish line just to pull herself back together.
But now, for the sake of absolute victory, Dream Weaver didn't mind using the God-Slayer to compensate for her otherwise average explosive power.
Consequently, the Uma Musu standing on the track today felt the most suffocating pressure they had ever encountered in their lives.
Many among them had competed in the Satsuki Sho and believed they had a read on Dream Weaver's strength.
They thought they were prepared.
But the mont the God-Slayer was drawn, Dream Weaver delivered a cold realization to every single one of them:
They had vastly underestimated her.
Under the soul-crushing terror of the blade, their heart rates spiked.
This wasn't the rhythmic thumping of a pre-race adrenaline rush; it wasn't a roar, but a shrill scream—a primal, instinctive shriek of the body recognizing a lethal threat.
They felt as if they had been dropped into a Shura's battlefield forged of blood and steel.
Every breath felt like inhaling iron and gore, making them want to stop breathing altogether just to escape the sensation.
So of the less resilient runners were already trembling, their legs turning to jelly, ready to forfeit just like that poor soul who faced Shinzan.
But when they looked back, they only saw the locked gates of the starting stalls.
Because of the cramped space, many Uma Musu jokingly refer to the starting gate as a "prison."
Today, the girls standing alongside Dream Weaver at Tokyo Racecourse truly understood the aning of the word.
Even the right to flee had been stripped away. Pale-faced and drenched in cold sweat, they leaned against the tal fras just to stay upright, praying for the race to start.
Based on the Satsuki Sho, they knew that the further they were from Dream Weaver, the lighter the pressure would be.
So were even planning to stall for a second or two after the gates opened, waiting for Dream Weaver to bolt before they dared to erge.
Yet, among this group of runners whose wills were being systematically dismantled, one person remained standing.
Tokai Teio.
Facing the full weight of the God-Slayer, she unleashed her Undying Phoenix Zone.
Ethereal flas, looking almost tangible, roared and danced around her.
Though the invisible edges of the God-Slayer severed the tongues of fire every ti they lashed out, the flas held firm, shielding Teio from the brunt of the storm.
She's doing better than she did at the Satsuki Sho, Dream Weaver thought, instinctively glancing toward the heat radiating from that corner of the gates.
Teio's Zone leaned toward resilience and recovery. At the Satsuki Sho, she had shown an incredible ability to regenerate her "fire" over and over again, like a true phoenix.
Against a Zone like that, steady pressure wasn't enough.
It required a single, lethal strike—the kind Dream Weaver had used before—to extinguish the flas all at once.
Dream Weaver retracted her gaze. Teio had grown stronger, but she was still no threat. If she could cut down the phoenix once, she could do it again.
And so, amidst the sharp edge of the God-Slayer and the silent roar of the Phoenix, through a span of ti that felt like an eternity to the terrified runners, the final seconds of preparation ticked away.
In the comntary booth, Rin Akasaka moved the microphone away and cleared her throat.
After a quick, reassuring nod from her ntor and partner, Kentaro Sugimoto, she brought the mic back to her lips.
"The race—"
"Begins now!"
A second after the announcent, the gates swung wide with a chanical snap.
A thunderous boom echoed across the track as two streaks of red light, one trailing slightly behind the other, blurred onto the turf.
Wait... only two? Rin's mind went blank. How could there be only two? There were twenty Uma Musu in this race—where were the other eighteen?!
Before she could cry out in confusion, the battle-hardened Kentaro Sugimoto took over the play-by-play.
"A collective late start! Unbelievable! To see sothing like this at the Japanese Derby... are the runners simply too overwheld by nerves?!"
Sure enough, a mont after Sugimoto spoke, several more runners scrambled out of the gates. Once Dream Weaver had pulled ahead, the others finally regained enough composure to give chase.
Rin let out a massive sigh of relief.
Having never seen a collective "Late Start" before, she had honestly feared the eighteen girls had retired simultaneously.
She turned to thank Sugimoto with a look, only to find him staring at the track with a grim, heavy expression.
"Senior?" Rin whispered, confused.
Kentaro Sugimoto turned his head, signaling for Rin to keep up the comntary while he leaned in to explain.
"I've called many races in my ti, but I've only seen a collective late start like this a handful of tis."
"And in every one of those instances... an absolute ruler erged to crush the field."
He looked back at the leading red streak in pure awe.
"So... you're telling that back at the Satsuki Sho... Dream Weaver wasn't even going all out?!"
-- --
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.
Reviews
All reviews (0)