"All competitors, to your positions!"
Akasaka Rin's voice echoed through the Tokyo Racecourse via the microphone and speakers. Hearing the command, Nakayama Knight shook her head, brushing off the unease in her heart, and made her way toward her starting gate.
In those brief few dozen meters, though, Nakayama Knight couldn't help but glance repeatedly at Dream Weaver.
Just like before, there was nothing particularly unusual about her—except, perhaps, for the custom gear that seemed so out of place among the elite Uma Musume of the central circuit.
But what did that really prove?
Only that her so-called Kasamatsu Tracen couldn't even provide a standard-issue racing kit.
After reassuring herself slightly, Nakayama Knight stepped into the gate and waited quietly for the crack of the starter's pistol.
BANG!
The instant the shot rang out, thirteen Uma Musume burst from the gates.
That unity lasted only a moment. A split second after the start, a crimson streak tore through the field with unstoppable force, slicing the track in two like a blade leaving its sheath.
The Victors, and The Defeated.
The defeated included Nakayama Knight, Universal Bank, Deep Sound, and ten others.
There was only one name for the Victor—
Dream Weaver.
The moment the cursed blade was drawn, the illusion of peace shattered.
Truth was, most of the Uma Musume from Central Tracen didn't expect outstanding results. They never even dreamed of defeating the elite names, not even once.
They just went through the motions, following their trainers' instructions, completing their mediocre and uninspiring careers.
Most would earn a few OP prizes; a handful might snag a G3 win. Only a rare few, blessed with talent and a refusal to accept mediocrity, could ever hope to seize a G2 under the overwhelming pressure of the famous names.
This lukewarm environment had long since drained most of the Central Tracen Uma Musume of their so-called fighting spirit. Often, the winner was decided even before the race began.
In silent understanding, they maintained an unspoken truce.
It wasn't just Nakayama Knight. Every Uma Musume would mentally rank the expected finish order. Once they knew they couldn't win, they'd accept defeat as a matter of course.
In that hierarchy, a country bumpkin from the regional circuits was unanimously and silently ranked last.
But now, in this very instant, the thunderous shockwave of Dream Weaver's speed shattered every illusion they held.
This Uma Musume, whom they all looked down on, whom they'd all dismissed as last place, was now leaving them all in the dust with a terrifying, all-out dash.
A regional… Uma Musume?!
Nakayama Knight gritted her teeth. What did all her desperate struggling to break into the central circuit from the regions even mean then?!
Ignoring strategy, ignoring stamina, she pushed forward with everything she had. Shaken by Dream Weaver's display, she'd already forgotten about winning.
All Nakayama Knight wanted now was to salvage a shred of her pride.
If she could just close the gap, even for a moment, she could reassure herself.
Yes, her failure wasn't because she couldn't outrun this country girl. She'd just been blinded by momentary rage.
If she could try again, a calmer version of herself could surely drag that regional Uma Musume down from the winner's circle.
But just as Nakayama Knight prepared to accelerate, her body seemed to refuse her commands entirely. No strength would come.
No matter how much she willed herself to run, her legs resisted, refusing to push forward.
"Huh?"
Her heart was pounding. Power surged through her limbs. Her legs were sending signals, eager to run—so why?
Why couldn't she accelerate?
Confusion clouded Nakayama Knight's eyes. Gazing at that crimson streak ahead, she suddenly recalled a line from a wildlife documentary she'd seen as a child.
'In nature, when weaker creatures encounter a superior predator, the one and only action they can take is—'
'Flight.'
Nakayama Knight lowered her head, watching her own racing legs as if realizing something.
It wasn't that she couldn't run. Her body wasn't unwilling—it was—
Too afraid to run forward.
Her instincts were already terrified, cowed. Forget catching up to Dream Weaver; they wanted to stop right there, turn around, and flee in the opposite direction.
"How… is this possible…?"
"How could there be a monster like this… in a race like this?!"
The moment she recognized that instinct, Nakayama Knight's will collapsed.
If she didn't even dare to give chase, how could she ever convince herself this was just a temporary setback?
Gradually, she couldn't even maintain her original speed. The other Uma Musume closed in, enveloping her in the pack. Nakayama Knight could only watch helplessly as that crimson streak vanished into the distance at a speed she could never hope to match.
"Number Seven, Dream Weaver! There it is again—her signature Great Escape!"
"She's left every other Uma Musume behind! Can she maintain this pace all the way to the end?!"
"The answer is yes! Easily! Absolutely! Dream Weaver will do just what she did in the regional circuits—leave every Uma Musume in the dust with this peerless dash!"
"Go! Show them, brave warrior from the countryside! Let the Central Circuit see your brilliance!"
Akasaka Rin's commentary was nearing a frenzy. It was precisely this kind of all-consuming passion that had let her stand out from the regional commentators and rise to the central circuit.
The crowd, already electrified by the race, grew even more restless hearing Rin's words.
The courses dominated only by famous names were boring. The races with only Central Tracen Uma Musume were boring.
For the sake of victory, the elites only pursued the safest running styles and strategies. In the eyes of connoisseurs, every race was a masterpiece of intricate tactics.
But to the average spectator, all they saw was race after race of high repetition. No matter how florid the commentary, the view of the track never changed.
As for the Central Tracen Uma Musume themselves? They were even more dull. What was exciting about a race where the finishing order was practically decided before it began?
That's why Dream Weaver's speed, her dash, that crimson light that seemed to shatter all stifling conventions—that was what made the audience feel a thrill they hadn't known in ages.
This… This was how Uma Musume races were supposed to be.
Young spectators clenched their fists, shouting fervently, the thought burning in their minds.
Some older viewers found tears welling up unbidden. Watching the track, they were reminded of days long past.
So dazzling… It was almost like returning to that era—
The Generation of Miracles.
--+--
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!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.