Anticipating the gate and unsheathing the Divine Blade had carved out a massive lead for Dream Weaver.
Like her signature streak of crimson light, she tore through the curtain of rain the instant the gates snapped open.
With the speed of a lightning bolt, she left the other Uma Musu in the dust, opening up a staggering five-length gap in a heartbeat.
To any trained eye, she was nowhere near her limit.
As the race surged forward, the distance between Dream Weaver and the chasing pack only grew. Around the world, comntators let out gasps of sheer disbelief.
No one could have imagined it.
No one.
After two years away from the professional turf, Dream Weaver was unleashing a performance that didn't just match her pri—it eclipsed it.
Sakurako Kazehaya unconsciously tightened her grip on her Dream Weaver plushie.
Her heart began to drum in sync with the thunder of hooves on screen. It felt like ti was winding back, dragging her straight into the peak of her college years. The sheer thrill left her breathless.
But just as she was losing herself to the intoxicating charm of Dream Weaver's Great Escape, the comntator's voice cut through the hype like a bucket of ice water.
"It's like a haunting sense of déjà vu! Dream Weaver has committed to her Great Escape at the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe once again!"
"Let's just hope she can build enough of a cushion to survive that final sprint."
"After all, the Arc features that two-hundred-and-fifty-ter false straight, followed imdiately by the five-hundred-and-thirty-three-ter ho stretch. On that nearly eight-hundred-ter gauntlet, we've seen her overtaken at the wire far too many tis..."
Hearing the worry in the announcer's voice, Sakurako snapped back to reality. She bit her lip, her eyes glued to the screen with growing dread.
As a host of a race analysis show and a die-hard Dream Weaver fan, she knew those words weren't just pessimism—they were the hard-earned truth.
The "False Straight" was the infamous quirk of the Longchamp course.
After a grueling five-hundred-ter downhill acceleration, you hit that two-hundred-and-fifty-ter stretch.
Every year, Uma Musu get caught up in the montum and kick too early, leaving them gassed for the actual finish.
It was a double-edged sword. The false straight was a death trap for those lacking stamina, but for the endurance monsters, it was the ultimate stage.
With only a sharp, fleeting curve separating it from the final straight, they essentially rged into one massive eight-hundred-ter drag race—a stretch where countless legends have been born from a last-minute burst of speed.
And Sakurako's beloved Dream Weaver had been the victim of that stretch ti and again, her early-ga lead simply evaporating before the finish line.
The way she was running now was a perfect echo of the past. While the nostalgia set Sakurako's soul on fire, the tactical reality terrified her.
She feared that the sa strategy would lead Dream Weaver to the exact sa heartbreak.
Sakurako had told herself she was ready. She thought just seeing her run one more ti would be enough. But seeing that crimson light slice through the rain again, a flicker of hope ignited in her chest.
What if? What if she actually broke the "Arc Curse" this ti? Wouldn't that be the most perfect, beautiful retirent imaginable?
She yearned for that ending, yet the rational part of her mind knew the odds.
Her heart and head were at war, and without realizing it, she squeezed her plushie so hard she twisted its poor head into a distorted shape.
anwhile, Shotaro Akutsu, who was eavesdropping on the broadcast, let out a relieved smirk. He'd been trying to convince himself that Dream Weaver would eventually flag, but watching her get faster and faster had made him break into a cold sweat.
The comntator's sober assessnt gave him his second wind. Ard with a few half-baked facts he'd skimd off the internet, he started running his mouth again.
"See? I told you it wouldn't work. You can't win the Arc with a Great Escape."
"Especially not when your opponent is a closing-speed monster like Sea the Stars. Dream Weaver never stood a chance!"
"Besides, the rain at Longchamp is insane today. She'll be lucky if she doesn't wipe out on the downhill."
His take was a collection of tired clichés, but he was right about one thing: the downpour at Longchamp was more violent than anyone had ever seen.
Thud-thud-thud!
The footfalls of dozens of Uma Musu hamred against the turf, sounding like a rhythmic war drum echoing across the track.
The water logged in the grass churned and sprayed under the force, following the runners like a rising tide.
Longchamp had earned the nickna "The Swimming Pool" for a reason. Beneath the soft grass lay even softer mud. Even a light drizzle could turn the track into a swamp; one wrong step or a bit too much power, and an Uma Musu could easily lose her footing on the slick surface.
The girls competing for the Arc today were the best of the best, capable of maintaining their balance even in these conditions. But in this mont, they weren't looking at their feet.
Their eyes were wide with shock, fixed on the red figure tearing through the rain ahead of them.
"How... how is that possible?" one of them muttered to herself, her voice trembling.
"She's... she isn't slowing down at all?! The uphill is almost over! Doesn't she realize she won't be able to control her speed on the descent?!"
The Arc's layout was brutal: a climb starting at the four-hundred-ter mark, peaking at one thousand ters, followed by a sharp turn into a steep descent. The elevation change was nearly ten ters!
Dropping ten ters while navigating a turn on a "heavy" track ant every other runner was being extrely cautious.
Yet, the lone leader out front didn't show even a hint of braking as the curve approached.
What was she thinking? Was she not afraid of a disaster?
The pack watched the accelerating crimson streak with eyes full of disbelief.
Sea the Stars, who had been montarily shaken by the Divine Blade but had quickly recovered to her preferred "Pace Chasing" position to build her energy, narrowed her eyes at the red light in the distance.
"That style... could it be...?"
A faint suspicion crossed her mind regarding Dream Weaver's tactic.
But it was so reckless, so utterly insane, that even she couldn't quite believe it.
-- --
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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