"The battle for the lead is fierce as they approach the large zelkova tree at the third turn!"
"Silence Suzuka is showing off her signature brilliant front-running style, even in the face of world-class—"
"No! Even against the world's top Uma Musume, she continues to display her unparalleled Silence Escape. But this time, she faces a challenger in the American runner, Fuma!"
Misato Akasaka shouted with feverish excitement.
As the play-by-play announcer, she had naturally memorized the profiles of every competitor.
She knew Fuma was an expert at the 'Large Escape' strategy, yet the American girl had been outclassed by Silence Suzuka right from the starting gate.
Clearly, even a world-renowned escape runner struggled to adapt to the unique racing tempo of Japan.
In Akasaka's eyes, the famous Fuma was merely a challenger.
Even if she showed signs of catching up, the stamina she was burning just to close the gap meant she was likely out of the running for the Japan Cup crown.
As far as the veteran announcer was concerned, she was already crossed off the list of potential winners. Akasaka firmly believed Silence Suzuka was still holding back her final burst of speed.
"Suzuka is in danger."
The special guest, Symboli Rudolf, narrowed her eyes as she gauged the situation.
"Huh? Why? Isn't Suzuka currently…"Akasaka started to argue, but she stopped herself when she realized the warning came from her idol, the absolute Symboli Rudolf of the Japanese racing world.
Her long-time partner, Junko Hosoe, deftly picked up the thread. "Are you suggesting Fuma might cause a collision once she catches up?"
Such physical play was a common sight in overseas races.
"Yes,"Rudolf nodded. "I hope Suzuka is aware of it."
In a situation like this, a Japanese Uma Musume was bound to be at a disadvantage.
To Rudolf, Suzuka's best bet was to keep accelerating—to escape so far ahead that contact was impossible.
Even if she risked burning out in the final stretch, it was better than having her energy sapped by a struggle for position.
In an international race, Rudolf naturally favored her fellow countrywoman.
Besides, Suzuka was once a teammate in Rigil. Given how unreliable Suzuka's current trainer could be, Rudolf seriously doubted he had warned her about the dangers of physical contact on the track.
"Fuma is closing in!"
"She's less than half a length behind Silence Suzuka! Is Suzuka going to kick it into high gear and shake her off? Wait… AH!!"
On the track, Silence Suzuka felt the encroaching footsteps.
Her expression remained cool, but her eyes burned with determination. The view at the very front was hers alone to admire; she wouldn't let a speck of dust tarnish it.
Her body instinctively surged forward to widen the gap between her and the looming Fuma. But at that exact moment, she felt a violent impact against her side.
Her body tilted sharply. As she tried to power through the turn, a searing pain shot through her right leg.
She stumbled. The momentum of her high-speed gallop sent a wave of agony through her limbs, and her center of gravity shifted dangerously. She was about to hit the turf with a sickening thud.
Not like this!
Survival instinct kicked in, forcing her to maintain a desperate balance.
Her rhythm was shattered, and her gait became jagged and uneven. Beads of cold sweat broke out on her forehead as every step sent jolts of pain through her.
I have to stop. I have to try to stop.
That was the only thought left in her mind.
"???"
Fuma, being the closest, was momentarily stunned. She slowed down, looking back with a mix of hesitation and confusion.
How could this happen? In the States, this kind of jostling was routine. She had traded hits with Titas that were far harder than that. Why was she falling apart?
What do I do now?!
Even with her American academy training telling her to ignore accidents and charge for the finish line—knowing that stopping could lead to disqualification—she knew that falling at this speed could be fatal.
She was arrogant, sure, and she looked down on the others, but she wasn't a monster.
She hadn't realized that while she was used to physical contact, Silence Suzuka—who always ran alone at the very front—had no such defense.
"Suzuka-chan!"
In the Spica section of the stands, Tokai Teio and the others froze.
Trainer Okino's lollipop fell from his mouth and hit the ground. Teio was the first to snap out of it, vaulting over the railing and sprinting toward the track.
Okino and the rest of the team followed immediately, but they were at the finish line.
The distance to the third turn felt like an infinite abyss. Even with Teio running as fast as she could, the gap seemed impossible to close.
--+--
El Condor Pasa, Montjeu, and Taiga were equally stunned by the accident. Their internal struggle for position ceased as they instinctively slowed their pace.
Taiga knew exactly what had happened, but she was bewildered.
Why had a simple bump caused such a catastrophic failure?
Montjeu sighed for Suzuka; she was a formidable opponent, but after an injury like that, even if she survived, she might never race again.
El Condor Pasa wanted to rush to her aid, but as a top-tier student of the sport, she knew the professional consequences.
She was torn.
She wasn't particularly close to Suzuka—Suzuka had left Rigil for Spica just as El arrived—but she had heard so much about her from Special Week.
She was a fellow runner. A life was on the line.
As El hesitated, Suzuka staggered past them, slowing down. She was instinctively veering toward the outside of the track, trying not to obstruct the other runners even in her pain.
Suddenly, Seiun Sky—who had been hovering between the second and third packs—accelerated.
She pulled up alongside Suzuka, staying close enough to catch her the moment she could no longer stand.
The momentum of the high-speed catch nearly sent them both tumbling, but since they had already decelerated, they managed to avoid a fatal crash.
Just as they were about to lose their footing, El Condor Pasa reached out and steadied Seiun Sky, helping them both find their balance.
"Don't let Suzuka's leg touch the ground!" Grass Wonder shouted as she ran up.
King Halo, faster on the draw, stepped in to help Seiun Sky and El.
Together, they gently lowered Suzuka to the grass, keeping her legs elevated to minimize further damage until the track medics could arrive.
"Everyone…" Suzuka looked at the circle of faces. She saw Special Week sprinting toward them in a panic, and she saw Barbatos approaching. "You didn't have to… hiss…"
She couldn't finish the sentence. A sharp pang of agony made her gasp for air.
"We couldn't just stand by," Barbatos said, joining the group.
She casually cast Heal, the green light washing over herself and the most severely injured person nearby—Suzuka.
"Besides, if we didn't help, everyone would have spent the rest of their lives drowning in guilt."
This was the first time Barbatos had used her Heal on anyone other than Seiun Sky.
Suzuka didn't have some magical diagnostic sense; even if she felt a sudden wave of relief, she'd likely attribute it to adrenaline. But Barbatos knew better.
Without that spell, Suzuka's racing career would have ended today.
"Barbatos is right," King Halo chimed in.
El Condor Pasa put a hand on her hip. "But what are you doing here, Barbatos? Suzuka is safe now. We can't let those overseas runners take the Japan Cup!"
"Hehe, I'm just here to add a bit of insurance. After all, they can't punish all of us," Barbatos grinned, seemingly unbothered by the threat of disqualification or a ban.
"And if that's not enough, we'll just add a disqualified Japan Cup winner to the mix."
El blinked, then smirked. "Winner, huh? Spoken like a true monster."
Grass Wonder, still supporting one of Suzuka's legs, narrowed her eyes. "Barbatos, we're leaving the Japan Cup to you."
King Halo, holding the other leg, added confidently, "I suppose I'm losing the Japan Cup again. But let's show them what Japan's strongest really looks like."
As they spoke, Special Week arrived, her face streaked with tears as she cried out Suzuka's name.
"Spe, Suzuka is okay for now. Let's win the Japan Cup for her sake!" Barbatos shouted.
She urged Special Week not to stop, but to charge for the finish. If they were going for "safety in numbers," the others already had it covered.
Special Week locked eyes with Suzuka, who forced a faint, stoic smile. "Spe-chan… keep running. Carry my share with you."
Special Week's eyes welled up again. She turned away, her bangs shadowing her face. Her speed seemed to shatter its previous limits as she ignited a ferocious pursuit of the lead pack.
Seeing Special Week move, Barbatos smiled and held out her fist. "Then I'm off, too. Wouldn't want to get left behind."
Clink.
El Condor Pasa's fist met hers. Then Grass Wonder's, King Halo's, and even Suzuka's.
Finally, she bumped fists with Seiun Sky. In that moment, she cast Astral Infusion.
It was a skill Barbatos had just "purchased." While Suzuka was the most hurt, Seiun Sky had surely strained herself during the high-speed rescue. Barbatos wasn't about to let her girlfriend stay in pain.
Barbatos spun around, her legs coiling with power. Suddenly, a double Zone erupted, immediately followed by an overwhelming, blood-red aura that swallowed the others.
A gale of crimson wind and lightning exploded with unprecedented ferocity!
The playful girl who had just been joking with her friends vanished. In her place was a serious competitor staring down a gap of dozens of horse lengths.
"I won't keep you waiting long."
Her eyes locked onto Fuma, who was already beginning to fade. They were entering the final straight.
"That spot… ten seconds is all I need."
--+--
"Seiun Sky! Seiun Sky has saved Silence Suzuka!"
"It's El Condor Pasa! And Grass Wonder and King Halo! They've all stepped in to help. Silence Suzuka is finally…"
Akasaka's voice cracked. She was only human, and while she knew the consequences of stopping, seeing Suzuka alive and talking brought a massive wave of relief.
When she saw Barbatos join them, she felt a flicker of hope.
With big names like El Condor Pasa and Barbatos involved, the racing commission would be hard-pressed to issue lifetime bans.
They were too popular, both in Japan and abroad. Fans were dying to see the rematch between El and Barbatos, and Barbatos's quest for nine consecutive G1 wins to challenge the Emperor.
Of course, that dream of nine wins was dead now. Even without a disqualification, there was no way Barbatos could catch the lead pack.
"Special Week! Special Week is still running!"
"Go, Special Week!"Akasaka cheered, completely abandoning any pretense of objective broadcasting.
Even if Spe was outmatched by the world's best, she was Japan's last hope.
"Wait… what?"
Akasaka gasped. She saw Barbatos finish the fist bumps and take off. "Barbatos is running again?!"
Junko Hosoe took a deep breath. "Barbatos is more than 300 meters behind the leaders. Even for the best in Japan, that's…"
She didn't finish. In a G2 or G3 race, maybe. But this was the Japan Cup, filled with the kings and queens of the international circuit. Victory was a mathematical impossibility.
"Do you… believe in miracles?"
"Huh?"Both announcers blinked.
Symboli Rudolf spoke, her voice steady and authoritative.
"I believe Barbatos will win."
The Emperor had spoken. Regardless of the rules, Rudolf decided she would visit the commission personally after the race.
Seiun Sky and the others had broken the rules, but as Student Council President, she knew they had done the right thing.
Inspired by Rudolf's certainty, the announcers turned their full attention back to the track.
The runners entering the final straight were giving everything they had.
The world-class "Spurt" was on full display. Fuma was struggling to maintain her lead, her stamina depleted.
She had put the accident out of her mind—not out of cruelty, but because a world-class athlete has to focus on the race at hand once the die is cast.
Montjeu's footsteps were light and sharp as she unleashed her final kick.
She hadn't expected the accident, nor the rescue, but she chose to honor the race by giving her best. She and Taiga no longer jostled; there was no need for positioning now. It was a pure test of speed.
Titas, who had been bracing for a challenge from "Japan's Best," was shocked when her target stopped.
She pivoted to mark the French runners, Treve and Dancing Brave. Managing two world-class rivals was putting immense pressure on her, especially Treve, who was starting to slip away.
Then, an atmosphere like a literal monster swept over the track.
The overseas champions felt their hearts tremble. Titas recognized it instantly—this was Barbatos's Triple Zone.
But that blood-red aura felt fundamentally different from the others, as if it intended to crush every obstacle in its path.
She's still running? Even if she catches up, she's disqualified!
Besides, she can't possibly catch us! We aren't the local nobodies she faces in Japanese G1s!
But then, a sound reached her ears. A rapid, heavy thudding of footsteps, faster than even Special Week's frequency.
Another Pitch runner? Do Japanese girls love this style that much?
No! That's not a Pitch!
A Pitch run is a short, fast stride, usually for hills. If Special Week used it for flat ground, Barbatos was doing something much faster.
In a heartbeat, the heavy footsteps sounded like they were right on top of her.
Cold sweat broke out on Titas's brow. The rhythm felt like it was stomping directly on her heart. The crimson monster was looming.
When she started, she was at least 300 meters back!
Treve and Dancing Brave paled. They felt her coming.
"Wha—?!"
Special Week, running in a near-trance of focused desperation, was stunned. She saw Barbatos flash past her like a crimson blur.
3 seconds. Barbatos counted in her head as she cleared Special Week. Her eyes were locked on Fuma in the final straight.
5 seconds. Barbatos covered the 300-meter gap and hit the straight.
7 seconds.
Titas, the strongest of the American trio, and the battling Treve and Dancing Brave felt their silks grow damp with sweat.
These girls were masters of physical racing, yet under the pressure of that monstrous aura, they instinctively veered aside to give her a lane. Titas realized her plan to "mark" Barbatos had been a joke.
9 seconds.
A streak of red light shot past the fading Fuma. Fuma felt a gaze brush over her for a fraction of a second—a gaze that didn't even see her as an obstacle.
10 seconds.
Montjeu and Taiga bit their lips, pushing their bodies to the absolute limit.
It didn't matter.
The gap was closed with terrifying ease. In the face of that speed, their final spurts looked like a joke—the difference between a tortoise and a hare.
"Barbatos! Barbatos has caught Montjeu and Taiga!"
"She's not stopping!"
"Two lengths! Five lengths! Eight lengths!"
Akasaka's voice couldn't keep up with the widening gap.
She could only scream as the finish line approached. "WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!!!"
On the scoreboard, a massive gap of nine and a half lengths was highlighted in bright red. The entire racecourse fell into a stunned silence.
Montjeu and Taiga crossed the line second and third, staring at the figure standing tall ahead of them. She felt unreachable.
A moment later, the silence shattered. The roar of the crowd coalesced into four words, shouted in unison:
"WORLD NUMBER ONE!"
--+--
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!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.