A Great Escape's strategy is different from the usual escaping tactic. A typical escape relies on cunning—dragging other Uma Musume into your rhythm, forcing them to struggle as their stamina management and initial plans fall apart, while you secretly slow down to recover. By the time the others realize what's happening, the escape artist has already regained enough strength to kick again.
In the end, the key to an escape lies in carefully controlling the distance between yourself and those behind—disrupting their rhythm, dictating the pace of the race. They don't push the speed endlessly; there comes a point where they, too, slow down to recover.
But a Great Escape blitz is something else entirely. It's less of a tactic and more of a pursuit. Those who embrace it aren't focused on their opponents on the track; what matters to them is the act of running itself.
Accelerate, keep accelerating, right to the very limits of their strength. Ignore the strategies of others, ignore the screams of their own bodies—all they chase is greater speed, a distant horizon only they can see.
This running style is built entirely on the raw physical power of the Uma Musume. A full-on sprint consumes enormous amounts of stamina. Since the physical gap between competitors is usually small, the others will slightly increase their pace to follow the front-runner, waiting for her to burn out before unleashing their own powerful finishing kicks.
Even if they're forced to expend more energy early on to keep up with your intense pace, the stamina they have left will still surpass yours—more than enough to support a strong final sprint.
That's why the Great Escape is rare. After all, every Uma Musume runs to win. A tactic with such obvious flaws is naturally abandoned.
But what if those flaws ceased to be flaws?
What if the front-runner's stamina surpassed even that of the stalkers and closers? Would the weakness of this style still exist?
Of course not.
As Shibasaki said, the Great Escape is the most reckless and yet the most unstoppable strategy. If your opponent runs as a stalker, you can compete with a final kick. If she runs as a closer, you can block her path and prevent a breakthrough. But against a true front-runner, there's nothing you can do.
If your opponent has more stamina than you even after pushing the pace from start to finish, then you should already be prepared to settle for second. Because no matter what, you won't even catch a glimpse of her tail again.
By now, Shibasaki had already mentally written off March's chances. As long as the other didn't collapse from exhaustion, March stood no chance of winning. Unlike the nearby Uma Musume who were still hoping for March's famous final kick, as her trainer, he knew her better. Right now, she might not even have the strength to kick at all.
And indeed, the situation unfolded just as he predicted. Fujimasa March was already feeling the strain.
--+--
'No, I can't catch up. There's still 300 meters to go, but my legs won't move. Is this where it ends for me?'
Defeated thoughts echoed in her mind. Her weary limbs and burning chest told her one clear thing: she had reached her limit. She could accelerate no more.
"Haah! Haah! Haah…!"
Her ragged breaths drowned out the chatter from the sidelines. Fujimasa March drove her legs forward with everything she had, her ruby-red eyes fixed on Nearl's figure ahead.
So fast… So dazzling…
She couldn't help the thought.
'Is this what they call a genius? Is this the monster Oguri Cap talked about? It's enough to make you lose the will to fight… How terrifying. Can all the Uma Musume from the central circuit reach this level?'
Each step grew more labored; even maintaining her current speed felt difficult. Only 150 meters remained until the finish, but she felt on the verge of breaking.
'I'm so tired… I want to stop. Is there even any point in holding this pace? I can't win anymore. Maybe I should just give up on accelerating.'
Her vision began to blur. The track beneath her feet, the blue sky above, the crowd watching from the sidelines—everything seemed to warp and distort. The only clear thing in her sight was that golden figure ahead.
She suddenly thought that figure looked radiant, breathtaking. Her form, her overwhelming presence—it was all so… captivating.
'Have I been too arrogant? To think I could challenge someone like this…'
Amid her confusion, a defeated thought emerged. If this continued, her confidence might truly shatter.
But then, suddenly, March felt as though that golden figure glanced back at her—and then stopped increasing her speed.
'...Is she pitying me?! How dare she hold back?!'
Rage surged into her heart. Blood vessels tinted the whites of March's eyes. She gritted her teeth with an audible grind.
'I don't need your sympathy, even if I lose! I might lose ugly, but I won't lose my pride. Are you trying to humiliate me?!'
That fury filled March's mind. She stopped caring about anything else. Only one thought remained: 'I will chase you down. I'll force you to accelerate again. I refuse to let you win without even using your full strength!!'
The ache in her limbs seemed to vanish. The pain in her chest no longer affected her. She felt as if some powerful emotion was now fueling her, driving her forward.
The figure ahead seemed to nod—or maybe she never looked back at all. She was just running, silently, steadily onward.
"Fujimasa! Fujimasa is accelerating!" The surrounding Uma Musume burst into cheers. They were rooting for March, and seeing her fall so far behind had worried them. Watching her hold back her kick until the very end had made them restless.
"See? I told you Fujimasa would kick! Her finish is strong!" one Uma Musume said proudly, as if she were the one running.
But her words were met with silence. The cheering around the field slowly died down.
"Look… Fujimasa is accelerating, but… the gap isn't closing?"
"How can that be?!"
A cry of disbelief rose, but reality didn't change based on lamentations. The distance between Nearl and Fujimasa March remained vast, insurmountable.
March, in the midst of her chase, noticed it too. But instead of frustration, she felt a thrilling excitement.
'Yes—yes! This is it, Nearl! Give it everything you've got! Let me taste defeat with no reservations!'
The finish line was now right there—a mere 50 meters away. Under the gaze of every watching Uma Musume, to the cheers of Trainer Shibasaki and Rudy Lemono, and to the roar tearing from Fujimasa March's throat—
Margaret Nearl broke the tape.
It was only some time after she had finished, having built a lead of over ten lengths, that Fujimasa March finally crossed the line.
--+--
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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If you guys wanna check it out.