Every feint, every sudden shift of rhythm, made it harder for that "human wall" to hold.
Since joining Kuroha's team in April last year, after a year and seven months of grind, she was no longer the local racer who only knew how to bulldoze ahead. Body, technique, and—formerly her weakest link—racecraft: all had been elevated to the level befitting a racer in her position.
A "cage"? It was only a whetstone.
And the blade… had been honed until it gleamed.
Inari One's black hair streamed in the gale. Familiar figures flickered in her eyes—Oguri Cap, the ash-gray "monster," and that eternally composed Super Creek.
But in the end, her thoughts settled on the training grounds, on the four figures who had forged themselves alongside her, shoulder to shoulder.
Four, each wreathed in the sky-bridging radiance of a blazing Domain…
My goal… is to break through you.
At that thought, Inari's gaze turned razor-sharp.
—How could I be stopped by you?
…
"The field is entering the third turn! Thirteen Uma Musume are climbing the backstretch incline!"
The commentator's voice pounded like war drums, echoing across Tokyo Racecourse!
Up front—first flight.
Super Creek's eyes flicked backward for the briefest instant.
That single glance was enough. The state of the rear pack etched itself into her mind and was dissected by a brain so calm it bordered on terrifying.
As expected… Inari-san's overwhelming power has earned everyone's hostility.
They've formed an impromptu alliance to sap her stamina and lock down her lanes…
It's already beginning to break apart, but the early drain is real.
Thump!
Thought and action overlapped. Her long, powerful legs hammered the turf, a gust of wind bursting with flecks of grass exploding beneath her stride!
Core strength detonated through her frame; a blue comet skimming the ground, she tucked in hard behind the runner in second—Air Groove.
Her breath, hot and steady, brushed the nape of the girl ahead.
Air Groove clenched her teeth, forcing out the last of her strength to hold position.
But she didn't notice—she'd already hit her limit.
Sweat had soaked her victory suit; her breath rasped like a broken bellows; even her arm swing had lost the coiled, explosive tempo it had at its best.
Super Creek saw it all.
Thanks to King Halo's handiwork, the first half's pace… was even sharper than she'd planned.
Unlike that 3200-meter spring Tenno Sho.
Over 2000 meters, even a high-speed war of attrition at this level barely scratches her reserves.
Her heart was a still mirror, unruffled.
Stamina, position, and—critically—the right to strike first…
Every thread that could lead to victory now sat in my hands.
I lost the spring Tenno Sho because I underestimated Domain's burst.
But after a whole summer of hardening…
That gap—I've closed it.
A lustrous light—unprecedented, dazzling—burned in Super Creek's eyes.
It was the certainty born of absolute preparation: the faith to win.
—This race…
I'm already winning.
…
Time flowed. The field crept toward the fourth turn.
One step out of that curve, and you hit Tokyo's famed long homestretch.
"Approaching the fourth turn—King Halo seems to be easing, is she fading?! Air Groove holds second—Super Creek is locked on in third, guarding the two-spot!"
The commentator's pitch spiked, as if dragging every soul toward the coming final duel!
"…Inari One is still boxed inside the pack, about seven lengths off the first flight."
At that knife-edge moment—when the whole crowd held its breath—
Super Creek… moved first.
Vmm—
The deep-blue lightning that had flickered faintly in her pupils surged upward, two whirlpools of the abyss spinning madly as if to swallow everything before her.
This was the second step of her gambit.
While preserving her kick for the last spurt—grab the forward line before the endgame.
Up ahead, King Halo and Air Groove's forms were visibly wavering.
They'd burned to the edge. Any second now they would lose speed—no longer fit to lead the tempo.
Then—
Super Creek's gaze sharpened to a killing edge.
—I will.
Boom!
Without warning, Super Creek ignited.
The power she'd banked—vast enough to command awe—erupted all at once.
A blue streak split the course in two.
In a blink, she lanced past the spent Air Groove, leaving not even a heartbeat for reaction—
—and arrowed straight at the teetering King Halo ahead!
"Super Creek blows by Air Groove and goes for King Halo—is she seizing the lead for the win right here?!"
The commentator screamed; every syllable shook the stands.
"...A-again… like this…"
Faced with that blue wave roaring down upon her, the exhausted King Halo could mount no answer.
She could only watch as Super Creek skimmed past her—merciless, without a shred of hesitation.
Wind howled in her ears; black fog rimmed her vision.
This scene… I've seen it somewhere.
Just before she was passed, something clicked for King Halo.
For an instant, a "white lightning" silhouette overlapped over Super Creek's frame.
Just like with Tamamo Cross…
Every time… I'm overtaken like this…
Tamamo left the track last year. Maybe… it's time for me to leave, too…
King Halo could feel the engine inside her going dark. The flame of conviction that had pushed her to run and run… guttered at last.
It's… enough…
Her heart pounded, her lungs burned like fire—yet her lips curled into a quiet, relieved smile.
This was a run without regret.
…
In the grandstand—
Cold light flickered in Kuroha's eyes. He saw it as clearly as when Sirius's omen first blazed: ribbons of seven-colored radiance lifting away from King Halo's body… replaced by the black haze of stillness.
"The Three Goddesses' blessing is gone. Her peak… is over."
He murmured to himself.
King Halo belonged to the age of Tamamo Cross.
Her Senior Year ended last year.
And after it ended, she still ran on for almost two years more.
Now, the gods' blessing has run dry.
Kuroha didn't dwell on King Halo. A frown creased his brow as his gaze shifted to a petite figure deeper in the pack.
Another child of Tamamo Cross's era.
King Halo has reached her end—what about her…?
…
(End of Chapter)
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