The Mythical Phoenix is always reborn amidst flames—perhaps an ancient, romanticized imagining born from witnessing a golden house melting into liquid within a raging fire.
When a battered shell dissolves into a stream of molten gold, perhaps life too is reforged, achieving its final sublimation amid the roar of iron and fire.
At this very moment, Dream Weaver felt she was experiencing just that.
The scorching flames symbolizing rebirth boiled and burned within her, as if every bone in her body was being dissolved and recast.
Her heart burned like a furnace, emitting faint metallic clangs under the tempering of iron and fire, while golden-hued blood surged toward her limbs, carrying blazing power.
Muscle and bone were smelted and reforged in the flames. Extreme pain gripped her nerves, yet new strength rushed forth from the burning.
Dream Weaver took a heavy breath.
She now felt like a furnace herself—even the air she exhaled carried the heat of fire and iron.
Yet within this scorching heat, she also sensed unparalleled power.
Through nearly endless cycles of reforging and sublimation, Dream Weaver felt even stronger than at her peak before the injury.
She instinctively clenched her hands, only to suddenly find that the demon blade—which had vanished within Shinzan's Zone—once again resting in her grasp.
In Dream Weaver's eyes, the blade named Murasame was already covered in cracks, as if it would shatter into countless fragments at any moment.
But flames flowing from between her fingers gathered along those cracks, forming a blade that rippled with fire.
Within the searing, dazzling glow, Murasame no longer held its former ferocity.
That lingering scent of blood had transformed into an indescribable aura of majesty.
Gazing at the flaming Murasame in her hand, Dream Weaver inexplicably recalled a tale.
Legend said that Murasame was once regarded as a ceremonial blade serving the gods—its title then was not "demon blade," but the more solemn and sacred "divine sword."
Some unknown event led it to be branded a demon blade in the eyes of the world.
Now, enveloped in flames, Murasame seemed to Dream Weaver to carry echoes of that ancient legend.
Gently tracing the edge of this blade that existed beyond reality, memories of it surged in her mind.
Awakening the Zone of Murasame had been a brutally bloody process.
Back then, without a single attribute at its limit, Dream Weaver had to burn everything to defeat T.M. Opera O.
Unlike now, where she at least had a gamble, back then she had no idea what would happen once she was fully consumed.
It was at that moment the demon blade Murasame awakened as a Zone.
At first, Dream Weaver couldn't control the blade's power, only using faint glimmers of its edge and scorching aura to shake her opponents' focus and drain their stamina.
Even she herself would be wounded by the blade's presence.
Later, as more attributes reached their limits and her physique grew stronger, Dream Weaver finally gained the right to wield the demon blade—from holding her ground with a sweeping slash before Orfevre and Narita Brian, to that divine strike in the Tenno Sho.
Her mastery over the blade deepened.
Yet even then, Dream Weaver still saw the demon blade Murasame merely as a tool—no different from a skill or prop.
She rarely used the name "Murasame," usually just referring to it vaguely as "the Demon Blade" or "the Cursed Blade".
But without realizing it, this blade named Murasame had quietly accompanied her through so many races.
Without it, Dream Weaver could never have come so far on tracks filled with champions.
Like her, it had been nearly crushed by Shinzan's Zone, and together they were now being reforged in the flames of rebirth. Perhaps it no longer deserved to be called a demon blade.
"Murasame," Dream Weaver murmured softly. The flames along the blade leapt as if in response.
"Maybe it's just my own wishful thinking… but I feel a blade like yours could never be content as a mere vessel confined to a sacred altar."
"Rather than being worshipped, you prefer to fight, don't you?"
As if in confirmation, the flames within Murasame's blade grew even more intense.
"I see…" Feeling the heat solidify into palpable ferocity, Dream Weaver tightened her grip on Murasame.
"Then it's no wonder you became a demon blade. You must have turned your edge against the gods to break free from that altar, didn't you?"
"Such defiance—no wonder they called you a demon blade."
"But I rather like you this way."
At that, Dream Weaver suddenly smiled.
Squinting, she gazed at the blinding white radiance ahead that seemed to swallow the entire track, then spoke to the boiling Murasame in her hand.
"Our opponent is a Uma Musume sheltered by the Gods. Well then, are you interested in joining me once more in turning our blade against the divine?"
The instant the words left her lips, the power within Murasame swelled almost to its limit. Even before she swung it, the mere presence of its flames pierced the air.
Even Shinzan, leading the race ahead, instinctively glanced back at the searing danger she sensed, her eyes wide with shock.
Dream Weaver paid her rival no mind, only tightening her grip on Murasame once more.
"Good! I've felt your fighting spirit. You are no longer a divine blade, nor a demon blade. Murasame, I give you a new name—"
"God-Slayer Murasame!"
"Now join me, and let us cut down that god-blessed Uma Musume!"
The moment she finished speaking, seemingly endless flames and scorching heat, driven by fierce winds, swept across the track.
It was as if they meant to set all of Kyoto Racecourse ablaze, expanding instantly to the heavens to rival that radiant white light.
And this wasn't the limit—far from it.
As Dream Weaver raised Murasame, closed her eyes, and severed all distracting thoughts, every sound from the track and beyond fell away.
The god-like roar of the wind, the commentator's frantic shouts—she cut them all.
Here, in this darkened world, the only companion left was the blade in her hand.
And she, together with her partner, would now wield that blade for victory—against the arrogant gods themselves!
Her foot came down, cracking the turf.
The moment Dream Weaver charged into the final straight, her eyes snapped open.
Within those dark, midnight pupils, flames flickered.
Her thirst for victory became shining stars illuminating the night sky.
In the next instant, God-Slayer Murasame was unleashed.
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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!
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If you guys wanna check it out.