The Divine Blade unsheathed, its blood-stained edge tearing through the track like a violent gale.
Even if she had lost a step, she remained the sa blade that had once cut down gods.
The sky itself seed to tremble before her; a flash of gold and crimson light nearly consud Dream Weaver's entire field of vision.
Yet, her hands felt nothing.
No sensation of a strike landing ho.
Of course.
This was a race run in solitude—what was there left for the Divine Blade to sever?
From the mont she entered the starting gate and failed to sense the presence of Sugar Lights, Dream Weaver had already guessed this outco.
Still, she had stubbornly drawn her blade, as if refusing to surrender to the inevitable.
But the result had been written in the stars long ago, hadn't it?
She was outmatched physically in every category.
Without the ability to sense her opponent's presence, her Zone beca useless. And since this was rely a mock race, there was no hope of triggering any boosts from specialized gear.
Before the race had even begun, Dream Weaver knew she would lose.
And so what? Every Uma Musu loses eventually.
She had repeated those very words to herself countless tis; she thought she was prepared for this.
Yet, for so reason, when the mont finally arrived, she realized she wasn't ready at all. The blue and white tal ahead shimred under the sun's glare, so piercing that she couldn't help but squint.
"Is it because... I've always been winning?" she murmured softly.
Despite the crushing weight she always carried—the knowledge that every race within these Scenario Worlds had a reason why she couldn't lose—Dream Weaver had never actually tasted defeat.
From her debut until this very mont, not once.
The process of seizing victory was always agonizing, but she had grown used to that pain.
Just as she stubbornly treated the racetrack as a battlefield, she had co to take it for granted that she and Murasa would cut through the competition ti and ti again.
But the world doesn't owe anyone "taken for granted," does it?
Many of the victories she had claid were only possible because of miracles.
And a miracle is only a miracle because it doesn't happen every day.
Fate had already been kind enough to her.
After so many repeated miracles, it was only natural for a "normal" result to finally surface.
Yet Dream Weaver knew that even now, she held one last chance to embrace a miracle.
"Kindling Fla..."
She whispered the na of the skill. Born in the Satsuki Sho and forged in the Japanese Derby, it was the source of so many of her past wonders.
If she activated it now, an unparalleled power would surge through her. Her heart would turn into a furnace once more, forging her will into a brand-new miracle.
The process would be excruciating—unbearable for any normal person—but it was the only ticket to victory she had left.
The eruption of Kindling Fla would link with True Self, and her Intuition would sharpen drastically in the heat of the flas. If her will remained steadfast enough, she might even trigger Nirvana again.
If she did that, even with her Zone neutralized, she would still have a fighting chance to win!
But... was it really worth using now?
Was she truly going to pay such a heavy price for a trivial mock race that didn't even affect her mission?
No matter how effective Agnes Tachyon's concoctions were, she would be bedridden for at least a month.
There were only six months left until Liberty Island had to step onto the turf of the Japan Cup to face Equinox. Could she really afford to waste a month on a race like this?
If she wasn't there to supervise, what if their training went off the rails?
What if Liberty Island pushed herself into overtraining out of a desperate hunger for victory, with no one there to tell her to stop?
What if Hishi Miracle started slacking off again because no one was there to nag her?
The price was too high. This wasn't the final battle of the Scenario World. She absolutely could not waste Kindling Fla here.
So... even if failure was certain, she could not use that ticket to a miracle.
In an instant—the very mont that thought took hold—Dream Weaver suddenly understood sothing.
"So... that's how it is."
Only now did she finally realize why the "her" of this Scenario World had failed ti and again at the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
Because the price was too high.
At the end of the day, the Arc wasn't truly that special. It was just a high-prestige G1 race.
Was it really worth activating Kindling Fla—burning her very self—just to trade for a miracle?
If she did that, what would co after?
The Dream Weaver who existed before she arrived in this world didn't know Agnes Tachyon.
In her mind, the lightest cost of Kindling Fla would be tearing the muscles in her legs. Even if they could be healed, it would take six months, maybe a year.
How could she face the fans who supported her then?
They wanted to see her win, sure, but was the Arc worth that kind of sacrifice?
If she didn't use the skill, she could go on to win many more G1 races the following year.
So was the Arc really that important?
Besides, the first ti this world's Dream Weaver ran the Arc, she had lost by a hair's breadth. It wasn't like the Triple Crown; it wasn't a once-in-a-lifeti opportunity.
If you lose this ti, you just try again next ti, right?
Since the gap was so small, she felt she could win even without a miracle. She just needed to work a little harder, be a little more serious, and winning the Arc would be no different from winning any other race.
There was always a "next ti." And then another "next ti."
Through a cycle of endless next tis, the Dream Weaver of this world had reached the present.
But by the ti the "real" Dream Weaver arrived here, she still hadn't won the Arc.
She had even lost her grasp on the second-place finish that seemingly belonged to her. There wouldn't be many "next tis" left.
Dream Weaver stared blankly at the figure ahead of her, the one reflecting the sunlight so brightly it almost blinded her.
Even as tears began to stream down her face from the glare, she refused to look away.
Before this mont, she hadn't felt any real connection to the "self" of this world—not to the title of world-class Uma Musu, nor the so-called Curse of the Arc.
Everyone assud she was bitter, that she would stake everything to try for the Arc one more ti.
Agnes Tachyon thought she would take the dicine and challenge the Arc again before her window closed.
Sea the Stars thought she would continue as she always had, forever charging toward that finish line.
But she hadn't.
Dream Weaver had simply stayed quietly at Tracen Academy, doing her absolute best to teach her two trainees. She had remained silent until Agnes Tachyon found peace and Sea the Stars grew restless.
But in this mont, Dream Weaver suddenly understood them.
She understood the version of herself that lived here.
She had only lost a mock race she was destined to lose, yet her heart felt so hollow and lost.
What about her?
After losing the Arc so many tis, what kind of storms must have raged inside her soul?
For reasons she couldn't na, Dream Weaver just felt a sudden, profound sadness.
-- --
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.
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