North Wind felt a path of frost form beneath her feet.
Her body seemed to grow lighter, and even the sweat on her brow froze into frost before vanishing soundlessly into the air.
An exhilarated smile bloomed across her face.
In that case—!
Her right foot slammed into the turf, and she shot forward in a burst.
"North Wind is accelerating! In an instant, she's opened up a full length on Brittany, the current runner in third! She's making for Seiun Ryoka now, isn't she? What courage—what confidence! Go, North Wind! Show your fans, show the crowd, the full extent of your power!"
The host was openly fired up.
Naturally, the commentator wasn't about to pour cold water on the moment.
"The gale from the northern lands dances now upon Doncaster's turf. Let us witness her effort—her pride!"
Seeing that, North Wind's fans broke into excited cheers. To them, their idol was a brave and powerful horse girl, and this moment carried the weight of history.
Because North Wind was the first horse girl in the St. Leger to openly challenge Seiun Ryoka.
If she hadn't taken the lead in doing so, then perhaps the others would have been crushed beneath the pressure Ryoka radiated and never dared challenge the undefeated queen at all.
That meant North Wind's decision mattered immensely.
In a place ordinary people could not see, winter's breath fell without warning upon the course.
It was not snow, but finer shards of ice—yet they rose and whirled like a diamond-dust storm, sweeping violently across the turf.
Only moments ago, the air had been full of the fragrance of grass and earth. Now it had turned sharp and bitterly cold, attacking the skin of every horse girl without mercy.
Of course, its true focus was Seiun Ryoka.
North Wind's goal was victory. Naturally, she would lock onto the strongest opponent and do everything in her power to drain away that opponent's stamina.
Ryoka could feel it clearly.
The frost-white chill surged in from behind, and it seemed as if her vision itself might be obscured by an icy-blue haze.
First her legs, then her arms, then her cheeks—before long, it felt as though every hair on her body wanted to stand on end.
Crack… crack…
She could almost hear the clear sound of freezing.
Feeling that sharp, biting pain, the corners of Seiun Ryoka's lips slowly curled upward.
What a rare attribute, she thought. So this is North Wind's direct attack?
She could feel the temperature around her plummet. Moisture in the air condensed into tiny ice crystals. Thin, translucent frost raced up her long legs, and even her racing outfit began to glitter with crystalline ice.
If it were an ordinary horse girl, she would already have been dragged into the mire of fighting the cold itself, finding even the act of lifting her legs difficult.
Perhaps she would have gone pale, her face twisted with pain and strain.
The freezing cold really was invading Seiun Ryoka's body and mind. Every breath felt like inhaling knives, a sharp sting lancing through her lungs.
But that was all it amounted to.
You thought this was enough to slow her down?
Try catching her first.
Ryoka tapped the ground lightly and resumed her rapid high-step cadence.
Seeing it, the commentator sucked in a breath and shouted, "Unbelievable! Unbelievable! North Wind's acceleration hasn't affected Seiun Ryoka in the slightest! The distance between them hasn't shortened at all! And Seiun Ryoka still hasn't even used her famed finishing kick! This is the terror of the undefeated queen—no matter the opponent, she always finds the most appropriate way to counter them! She's practically a perfect all-rounder!"
Before his words had even finished, the crowd's cheering swelled again, tens of thousands of voices interweaving into a mighty wave of sound that seemed capable of pressing down on heaven and earth alike.
Yes, Britain's horse girls losing would make them sad.
But this—this was history in the making.
They were about to witness the birth of a dual Triple Crown winner.
From dirt to turf. From sprint to long distance. Undefeated all the way.
Could there be any horse girl stronger than this?
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Compared to a moment like this, the defeat of a few runners was suddenly trivial, wasn't it?
Though there were still eight hundred meters left, most of the crowd had already reached the same conclusion:
It was over.
This St. Leger held no suspense any longer. Seiun Ryoka had crushed the old suspicion—that she might lack long-distance aptitude—beneath her hooves.
The only way left to disprove it now would be if she suddenly lost speed… or outright broke down.
Behind her, North Wind—who had gone from gradually accelerating to a full-on charge—stared wide-eyed in disbelief.
Why?
She had awakened a Domain. She was going all out.
So why couldn't she even close the gap?
What kind of horse girl was this?
Even the legendary Eclipse wouldn't run her opponents into the ground like this in a long-distance race, would he?
The moment that thought crossed her mind, North Wind clenched her teeth harder, fists tightening until her knuckles turned white. Her horseshoes bit stubbornly into the ground, new ice crystallizing beneath her feet into a path she tried to use to force herself still faster, to defeat the demon king standing in the path of Britain's horse girls.
But she couldn't.
She simply couldn't.
Victory?
To her, that was already something vague and unreal.
"…."
At that moment, Sanctuary Scion felt North Wind's despair and frustration.
Her gaze locked onto North Wind's wavering back. She and North Wind were not especially close, but to her, running was supposed to be joyful.
Even if Seiun Ryoka beat you.
Even if you gave everything and still couldn't catch her.
As long as you held fast to your resolve and never gave up, there would always be a way forward.
A faint sigh slipped from Sanctuary Scion's lips and vanished into the wind.
"Sorry. I can't let you see hope just yet. Because…"
The moment to go all out still had not come.
She—no, they—still had to endure.
"Seiun Ryoka's pace has come down! It's a little slower than her earlier tempo, but she still has over twenty-five lengths on the chasing pack! It's an almost unbridgeable gulf!"
After all, most races never produced such a grotesque margin. To erase that gap in a short stretch and then overtake her besides—it was far too hard. Practically impossible.
"Yes, but there are still six hundred meters left! Until the final moment arrives, nothing is set in stone! Everyone still has a chance!"
Doncaster had seen astonishing upsets before.
As long as you believed, there would be hope.
If you yourself no longer believed in your own chances, then even if a miracle appeared before you, it would still pass you by.
At that very instant, Sanctuary Scion slowly closed her eyes—then opened them again.
A golden radiance blazed across the sky.
And she cried out:
"Our race… isn't over yet!"
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