Magnificent—this is simply magnificent!
Such powerful, forceful footfalls, like the tolling of bells!
Such deep, soaring rhythm, like the beat of drums!
Only a harmony this grand could ever match my performance!
Sounds of Earth shouted in her heart:
Kitasan Black, just as I thought—you truly are the rival I chose well!
Just like me, you truly are one of the greatest, most exceptional Umamusume!
Lia Fail, on the other hand, felt something closer to a deep shudder.
That shiver spread from the soles of her feet through her entire body, until goosebumps rose over every inch of her skin.
In spite of herself, she thought back to the Kikuka Sho.
Kitasan Black's lightning-fast overtake in the opening stages of that race had completely overturned everything Lia Fail thought she knew about her.
She had blown past everyone in an instant and run clear of the field.
Then her momentum had only grown stronger, like a towering tsunami determined to swallow whole every rival standing in her way.
From that moment on, Lia Fail had gradually come to realize that, more than speed, power, or anything else one could see or feel—what made that opponent truly terrifying was the sheer force of her spirit, the way she never yielded and never stopped driving forward.
To race against an opponent like that, Lia Fail knew she had to summon an aura just as fierce.
The slightest slackness, and she would be left far behind.
The problem was...
Even knowing that...
Was she really supposed to start charging this hard already, when they had only just reached the opening stages...?
This...
This wasn't what her trainer had instructed her to do...
Staring at the figure ahead of her, hesitation flickering in her eyes, Lia Fail found herself at a loss.
A little farther back, Marialite—who had just overtaken Lovely Day—was desperately analyzing the situation.
Originally, more than the opponents ahead of her, she had been more concerned with Lovely Day, the runner she had just passed.
In her eyes, the greatest threat in this race was unquestionably Gold Ship.
Especially since this time, that rival had broken from the gate unusually well and had taken up a rear-running position.
In this race, Gold Ship was the only one using an End Closer tactic.
For an opponent like her, as long as she didn't botch the break, it didn't matter how many positions she gave up early.
Race after race, she had already proven that once she truly launched into a full sprint, absolutely no one could stop her.
The next greatest threat, in Marialite's mind, had been Lovely Day.
That rival had been on a nonstop winning streak for the past half year, in absurdly good form.
Even in the Japan Cup, despite losing, she had still held steady in third place.
That meant every part of her game had been tuned to an extremely balanced, extremely high level—which in turn meant stable performance.
Against an opponent with obvious strengths and weaknesses, someone whose results swung wildly up and down, you could still devise tactics and a running plan around those traits.
But against someone as stable as Lovely Day, there was practically nothing to target, no obvious point of attack.
And yet, at this very moment, the name of the number-one threat in Marialite's mind had quietly changed.
It was no longer Gold Ship.
Nor was it Lovely Day.
It was that kouhai more than two lengths ahead of her—Kitasan Black.
It wasn't that Marialite had failed to take this kouhai seriously.
Quite the opposite. She had happened to notice that this kouhai seemed unusually attentive to her training, showing up every time together with her trainer.
What she had never expected, though, was that a kouhai who had only been on the race stage for a single year would carry such an overwhelming presence when running in front—just like Gold Ship did once she was fully in motion, with that same unstoppable force.
And every part of Kitasan Black's movement—her breathing, her stride, the swing of her arms—carried the solid weight of something honed through countless repetitions.
That solidity made her, in her own way, just as impossible to target as Lovely Day's stability.
More importantly, she was running the same front-running tactic Marialite herself intended to use.
As a Front Runner, Marialite knew exactly how difficult the race ahead would become if she allowed the lead to fall into the hands of an opponent like that.
So she absolutely had to find an opening... and surge up there!
Marialite's gaze swept rapidly across the four figures in front of her as she gritted her teeth and made her decision at speed.
Lovely Day was doing much the same. Her hawk-sharp eyes swept across the runners ahead, and in an instant, a flicker of understanding flashed through them.
Then, taking advantage of the lightning-fast entry into the turn, she darted a glance toward the very back of the field.
At the tail end of the pack, a tall figure in a vivid scarlet race outfit lay hidden there. But with several opponents layered in front of her, Lovely Day could not make out her face.
At the same time, Kitasan Black clearly felt several gazes from behind, as though searchlights were locking onto her, deliberately or otherwise.
The opponent in front of her had not looked back directly, but from the tiny, unconscious tilt of her head, Kita-chan could guess that she too was constantly paying attention to every move she made.
The moment she realized that, her emotions sank even further, on top of nerves that had already left her fully braced and taut.
It was not as though she had never experienced being marked by her opponents before.
In everyday training and in many races, scenes like this were nothing new to her.
Nor had she never been marked by older runners.
During partner runs and in smaller races, those senpais had often been far more experienced and much more refined in technique.
But she had never once faced such a brutal situation as being tightly marked by five opponents at the same time!
Then, in the very next instant, she sharply realized that one of those opponents seemed to have given up on keeping such close watch on her in this invisible contest, and had shifted her attention elsewhere.
Even so, that still left three battle-hardened senpais, along with one peer who had already faced her head-on on the track before.
The crushing pressure of it all was unlike anything she had ever experienced.
It felt as if there were cameras and lenses everywhere—above her head, beneath her feet, all around her body.
Every last one of them was aimed straight at her without the slightest deviation, mercilessly capturing every detail, filling her with an intense embarrassment, a feeling that there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
And this was the situation right after the gates had opened...
So this...
This was the Arima Kinen...?
That involuntary exclamation rose in her heart, and at the same time, she clenched her teeth and let the corner of her mouth lift ever so slightly into a stubborn, resolute smile.
That's right...
This... was the Arima Kinen she had dreamed of with all her heart, day after day, the one she had pictured in her dreams countless times!
The finest rivals had all gathered here. It was a place full of uncertainty and challenge, where every inch of the air was thick with tension and exhilaration.
The pressure was as heavy as a mountain, and yet the fighting spirit deep inside her blazed like a fire that had just been set alight.
Calm...
Calm down, Kita-chan...
This isn't the ideal race situation, but it's not as if we didn't prepare for it...
And the situation we prepared for... is this very one!
In an instant, scene after scene from before the race—and from even earlier, when she and her trainer had run simulations over the sand table—flashed through her mind. The pieces representing the Umamusume crossed through time and space and fell into place on the racecourse she could now sense in her head.
An invisible hand reached toward several of those pieces and, with impossible slowness and yet all at once, pushed them along routes that seemed measured out to the last detail.
And among those crisscrossing paths, there was one gap—just wide enough for a single black piece to pass through.
Taking a deep breath, her chest heaving sharply, she lowered her center of gravity a fraction. A resolute light flashed in her eyes.
Then her hind leg slammed into the ground, and like a shell fired from a cannon, she shot forward—straight for that gap.
---
T/N: heres ur updates :3 meeting the 4 chaps a week quota :3
bonus chaps
100 stones -> 1 chapter
200 stones -> 2 chapters
300 stones -> 3 chapters
and so on
discord.gg/wisetl
patreon.com/wisetl