Tokyo Racecourse, the final stretch—a place where countless miracles had unfolded. Here, the Uma Musu's explosive final kicks had rewritten destiny in the very last monts.
And now, it was happening again.
Orfevre suddenly surged forward among the racers, her overwhelming force shoving the others aside. A burst of energy sent grass and turf flying high, and in an instant, she had carved out a path straight toward victory.
"Whoa! Orfevre is charging through the middle! Incredible! As expected of the queen who reigns over this generation—will her devastating final kick seize the crown, just like in the Spring Stakes?"
Listening to the comntator's frenzied cries and feeling the scorching heat of the crowd's cheers, Orfevre's lips curled into a wild, arrogant grin.
She was Orfevre—the hope that carried everyone's expectations. She would claim this Golden Victory!
Her running style could only be described as pure violence. Her imnse power and speed left all the other Uma Musu in the dust. In just a few breaths, she had already climbed to second place.
Now, only two or three lengths separated her from Dream Weaver.
The numbered circular boards flashed past her field of vision. She had already burned that number into her mind.
Four hundred ters—she had four hundred ters of straight track to accelerate. Closing a gap of just two or three lengths would be the work of a mont.
Orfevre's judgnt wasn't wrong. Even spectators who knew little about racing could see it—with the terrifying final kick she was displaying, overtaking Dream Weaver over these last four hundred ters would be effortless.
The crowd began to roar. They clenched their fists, gripped whatever they could hold, their eyes fixed intently on the track. In that mont, they even forgot to breathe.
Every step Orfevre took reverberated like a quake deep in their hearts.
"Orfevre is breaking through! She's about to overtake Dream Weaver! Unbelievable! This is the stuff of legen—"
Abruptly, the comntator's passionate, fluent exclamations cut off—as if a sharp blade had sliced his words in half, as if a hand had clenched around his throat.
Every spectator, every heart pounding fiercely for Orfevre, seed to sense sothing in that sa mont—and skipped a beat.
On the track, the flying turf, the sweat of the Uma Musu, every expression of desperate struggle for victory—all froze for an instant, as though the world had hit the pause button.
Orfevre's pupils contracted violently. As the strongest presence on the field, she was the first to break free from that illusion of frozen ti.
And the only one who realized what was happening.
"A… Zone?!"
The mont her strained words left her lips, an indescribable wave of scorching heat swept across the entire course. The stamina of every Uma Musu seed to evaporate into the air.
The air forced from their lungs felt like a scream of agony, their instincts begging their bodies to slow down, to stop.
Orfevre, in the middle of her final sprint, suffered the greatest impact. Right behind Dream Weaver, she felt the heat most intensely—so much that it almost felt like a blade pressed against her chest.
Her powerful, rapid stride faltered for an instant under the overwhelming pressure. That loss of montum was like a rock tumbling down a mountainside—once it started, there was no stopping it.
Gritting her teeth, Orfevre stared in disbelief at the crimson streak of light dancing ahead of her.
'How is this possible? How could so country bumpkin Uma Musu possess a Zone?!'
That red cape, flowing like a war banner, burned in Orfevre's eyes like fire igniting her glassy irises.
As far as Orfevre knew, awakening a Zone required an Uma Musu to reach her most intense emotions, to be pushed to her absolute physical limit. It demanded not only imnse willpower from the Uma Musu herself, but also an environnt capable of driving her to that brink.
But…
Orfevre felt like her teeth might shatter from the pressure. She fought desperately to push forward, yet she couldn't stop her body from losing speed.
Given the level Dream Weaver had shown, what kind of monsters could possibly have pushed her to her limits out in the sticks?!
Were all the local Uma Musu out there just monsters?!
It made no sense. She couldn't understand it. Dream Weaver's Zone struck Orfevre's mind like a sledgehamr, leaving her thoughts in disarray.
"What's happening?! Orfevre is slowing down!"
"And not just her—all the Uma Musu are decelerating! Has Dream Weaver's Great Escape disrupted their focus so much that they can't perform?"
"Only two hundred ters to the finish! Dream Weaver has already opened up a three-length lead over Orfevre! Could this country girl who ca to the central circuit really shatter the queen's aura and steal the Satsuki Sho title?!"
Amid the howling wind, Orfevre could no longer hear the comntator. The only sound in her ears was the pounding of her own heart.
What would this Uma Musu—burdened with everyone's hopes, hailed as the generation's certain ruler, carrying heavy expectations since childhood—do in this mont?
Would she waver as victory slipped through her fingers? Would she fear failing to fulfill those promises? No matter how gifted she was, she was still just an Uma Musu. Wouldn't it be normal to feel such things?
Yet, pressed to the absolute limit by the pressure, she suddenly began to laugh.
It was nothing like her smiles before—not confidence, not arrogance, but—
Pure joy?
'To reign over this generation is my destiny, but a stage for one would truly be so dull…'
'Dream Weaver… Dream Weaver!'
'Ha… haha… hahahahahahahaha! To think you could offer such a delightful surprise! Then I must respond with a king's reward!'
'Let test you—let's see if you're worthy to run by my side!'
The mont her words faded, an intensely dazzling light erupted in the eyes of the Uma Musu. Those behind Orfevre instinctively averted their gaze, unable to look directly ahead.
Now, Orfevre's golden hair flowed like molten tal. Behind her, a corona-like aura burst into existence. Her glassy eyes glead with a liquid gold light. In an instant, she shattered the constraints of Dream Weaver's zone and charged forward once again.
"Orfevre! Orfevre is catching up!"
The comntator's shouts echoed in the air, but Orfevre's eyes were fixed only on that soaring red streak ahead.
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T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 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!
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