The December wind in Paris remained bone-chilling, a biting gale laced with raindrops that snaked through the gaps in the grandstands.
No matter how dense the crowd or how thick the coats, that ubiquitous chill always found a way in, piercing straight to the marrow.
Yet, for so reason, even as their exposed skin grew pale from the cold, the people felt a sweltering heat rising within them. Hearts hamred against ribs; throats felt parched and raw.
A roar of pure excitent surged in their chests, driving them to vent the feeling by any ans necessary.
Whether it was screaming alongside the person next to them, frantic texting to friends, or rushing to post on online forums, they had to let it out.
Because they had just witnessed a genuine miracle.
To be honest, no one truly thought Dream Weaver could win—not even her most loyal fans.
They had traveled thousands of miles to Longchamp Racecourse not so much to witness a victory, but to see her one last ti before she retired for good, leaving behind no regrets.
Her coback had been so sudden that it left people more bewildered than joyful.
Before returning to the turf, Dream Weaver had spent two years as a trainer. She had already produced two G1-level Uma Musu, one of whom had even secured an Undefeated Triple Tiara.
Even away from the track, her story was still being written. Wasn't that a perfect ending? Since she had already beco a legendary trainer, why not just keep walking that path?
Why announce a coback so abruptly after Liberty Island lost the Japan Cup?
It was impossible not to let one's mind wander into speculation.
Among the many theories, the most accepted was that Dream Weaver wanted to close the book on her lingering regrets.
With the defeat in the Japan Cup, Liberty Island needed ti to recover, and her other trainee, Hishi Miracle, had no plans to race for the rest of the year. For Dream Weaver, this was a rare window of ti.
A window to say goodbye to the past.
The general consensus was that she chose to enter this year's Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe specifically to end her life as an Uma Musu at Longchamp—a place haunted by so many mories and "what-ifs."
Once she made peace with the past, she would hold her retirent ceremony and officially transition back to being a full-ti trainer.
This was the final race, the last ti anyone would see Dream Weaver step onto the stage.
Thus, the energy at Longchamp today was unprecedented. All of Paris, indeed the eyes of the entire world, were focused on these fifty-seven hectares of land.
Yet, few had co expecting her to win. Rather than victory, people wanted to bid a proper farewell to the girl who had once brought such wonder to the world.
She had been away from the track for two years. Her physical stats and training form had inevitably deteriorated; she was no longer the peerless star who once dazzled at the pinnacle of the world.
Beyond that, she had to face the one they called a "once-in-a-lifeti perfection"—Sea the Stars.
Looking back at history, Sea the Stars was indisputably the strongest opponent Dream Weaver had ever faced. Also a world-class talent, she didn't even share Dream Weaver's slight disadvantage in power; she was, as her na suggested, flawless.
No one thought Dream Weaver could actually win.
No one believed she could overco Sea the Stars.
Even if a miracle occurred on the track today, she surely couldn't break the Curse of the Arc.
On this soil, miracles usually favored her opponents.
But this ti, she had seized that miracle with her own hands and shattered the Curse of the Arc.
When Dream Weaver won the Classic Triple Crown undefeated, people thought the Arc was only a matter of ti. But after loss after loss, as even that "cursed" second-place finish began to slip out of reach, people finally realized that ti itself had beco her greatest enemy.
But now, she had conquered ti.
Under the gaze of the entire world, she had snatched the victory.
She was the brightest star above the Arc de Triomphe.
Within ten minutes of the race's conclusion, countless news drafts were already flying across the globe.
The chatter at Longchamp was just the beginning; the roar of the public was like a volcano prid to erupt. Dream Weaver's na would once again echo throughout the world.
Only this ti, the prefix "Curse of the Arc" would no longer be attached to her na.
Of course, conversely, those who had been reckless with their words before the race were about to face their reckoning.
Ordinary comnters might be overlooked, but for flamboyant strears like Shotaro Akutsu, this would likely signal an early end to his career.
While the storm in the dia would take ti to brew, Agnes Tachyon couldn't care less about any of it.
She knew nothing of the shifting tides online or the loud-mouthed strears. Tachyon just kept her head down, running toward the infirmary in a grim silence.
The race had just ended. After seeing Dream Weaver leave the track, the girls had headed to the locker rooms to celebrate. But when they entered the room, everyone froze—Dream Weaver wasn't there.
While the others were baffled, wondering why she hadn't returned to the room despite heading backstage first, a realization hit Agnes Tachyon. Her face went pale instantly.
Leaving the group behind, she bolted toward the dical room.
She had guessed sothing—or rather, she already knew, but was desperately unwilling to believe it.
She was the one who had put Dream Weaver back on that stage.
If she hadn't casually ntioned the change in the Arc's date, if she hadn't provided those potions... perhaps Dream never would have returned here at all.
This victory belonged partly to Agnes Tachyon, so it stood to reason that she also bore responsibility for any misfortune that ca trailing behind that glory.
She had dedicated herself to developing those potions precisely so that no other Uma Musu would end up like her. If, because of her, Dream Weaver was now...
Tachyon didn't dare think further. She didn't have the courage to imagine what Dream looked like right now, nor the courage to face her own crumbling composure.
With every stride, her heart gave a sharp throb of pain. But she couldn't stop. Even if she knew her heart would break the mont she saw Dream Weaver, she had to keep going.
She was the one who made the potion.
She was the one who let things spiral this far.
No matter how terrified she was, she had to face the consequences.
Even if it takes a lifeti... I will definitely fix you!
Tachyon thought through gritted teeth as she threw open the infirmary door and yelled.
"Dream Weaver—!"
Dream Weaver, sitting in a chair watching the doctor wrap a bandage around her, turned her head. She blinked at Agnes Tachyon, whose face was inexplicably, hauntingly pale.
"I'm here?"
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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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