"...the second favorite, Suave Dancer!"
Before the announcer had even finished speaking, deafening cheers swallowed the entirety of ParisLongchamp Racecourse.
Nearly every French spectator rose to their feet, waving the flags in their hands.
"Suave Dancer! Suave Dancer!"
"You're our pride!"
"You have to win, Suave Dancer!"
"We'll always believe in you!"
The blazing roar of the crowd merged into a turbulent ocean and surged toward the figure slowly emerging from the end of the competitors' tunnel.
The girl's short black hair fluttered in the wind, while the golden patterns adorning her racing uniform gleamed beneath the spotlights.
The sky was overcast, and a fine drizzle drifted through the air.
The instant Suave Dancer stepped onto the turf, muddy water splashed beneath her shoe.
Yet the heavy sensation beneath her feet filled her with reassurance.
"Heh..."
Feeling the weight of the course, she stopped and turned her head slightly.
Her gaze drifted toward the end of the darkened tunnel behind her.
There was still one final competitor who had yet to emerge.
"McQueen..."
She quietly spoke that name as a smile gradually curved across her lips.
"Just as you wished. Let's have ourselves a good race."
With that, Suave Dancer turned and walked onto the course.
There, the other fourteen Umamusume had spread out and were diligently warming up.
But as Suave Dancer approached, their bodies stiffened one after another.
They pursed their lips and instinctively cleared a path, allowing her to walk straight to the front.
By the time she came to a stop, there was not another person within five meters of her.
Her tyrannical will bore down upon them like the weight of the heavens. The fourteen Umamusume felt as though they had been targeted by a man-eating beast, sending chills down their spines.
"You've got to be kidding me... The race hasn't even started yet..."
An Umamusume named In the Groove bit her lip and lowered her head in disbelief.
During their race only a few months earlier, she had still been capable of chasing Suave Dancer and even using her [Demonic Power] to interfere with her.
But now, it was difficult to observe her even with that power.
She actually needed to summon her courage just to look Suave Dancer in the eye?!
How were they supposed to compete against that?
Watching the recording of her race against McQueen had already been absurd enough.
How could the reality be even more outrageous?
At that thought, In the Groove instinctively glanced toward another Umamusume in the field who possessed a similar aura.
"Hmm?"
Red Desire, who also possessed [Demonic Talent], froze when she noticed In the Groove looking at her.
However, because they shared the same talent, she immediately understood what In the Groove meant.
Red Desire spread her hands helplessly. She had already given up trying to devise a solution. All they could do now was leave it to fate.
Among them, only one blonde girl remained unaffected.
Generous merely stood off to the side, silently stretching. Her eyes were as calm and unfathomable as a secluded pool, and she showed no intention of glancing in Suave Dancer's direction.
...
Meanwhile, inside the competitors' tunnel, McQueen stood quietly as the thunderous roar of the crowd surged in from ahead.
Her eyes were gently closed, and her breathing remained even. A breeze drifting through the high windows lightly stirred her long black hair.
Just then, a faint warmth rose from within her chest.
McQueen opened her eyes and looked behind her.
There was nothing there.
Yet the sensation was far too real to ignore.
It was an indescribable warmth.
Beginning at her heart, it flowed through her veins and spread into every part of her body, washing away the last trace of tension within her.
"..."
The girl fell silent.
Only when the announcer's voice sounded once more did a beautiful smile finally blossom across her face.
"Everyone... I received it."
Her voice was gentle, though it was unclear whom she was answering.
Then she stepped forward.
"And now, let us welcome the final competitor onto the course!"
The announcer raised his voice even higher.
"She is the conqueror who crossed the ocean from the distant Far East, entered Europe with an undefeated stride, and seized boundless glory!"
"The Istanbul Trophy, the Prince of Wales's Stakes, the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes, the Juddmonte International Stakes, and the Irish Champion Stakes!"
"Five international G1 races and five crowns, all claimed as her own!"
"The blazing sun of Generous dimmed before her, and Suave Dancer's wild dance came to a halt in her wake!"
"The strongest Umamusume of the current generation now reigns supreme over the battlefield known as Longchamp!"
"Today, she has not come here to issue a challenge. She has come to be crowned!"
"Let us welcome her with our most passionate cheers, the betting favorite for the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe!"
"Mejiro McQueen!"
The announcer's prolonged cry ignited an overwhelming wave of passion.
Boom!
Like a volcanic eruption, the roar engulfing ParisLongchamp Racecourse reached its absolute peak.
The cheers of a hundred thousand spectators seemed to merge into a tangible shock wave, causing even the railings of the grandstands to tremble.
Their voices wove together into a hymn dedicated solely to the champion from the Far East.
Amid those deafening cheers, at the end of the tunnel where countless lights converged, a lavender-haired figure dressed in white slowly emerged.
The girl's expression was as tranquil as still water. Her calm gaze swept over the seething grandstands before she walked onto the course.
She was completely different from Suave Dancer.
There was none of that terrifyingly sharp and overwhelming aura surrounding her.
She simply walked forward at an unhurried pace, her expression perfectly composed.
Yet that very composure caused the other Umamusume, who had only just managed to catch their breath beneath Suave Dancer's pressure, to tense up all over again.
They could feel it.
Wherever that pure-white figure passed, the air seemed to grow thick and viscous.
It was as though an invisible sky were pressing down upon their heads. There was clearly nothing there, yet they could barely breathe.
Then McQueen reached the front of the field and stood beside Suave Dancer.
At that moment, the pressure from the two of them suddenly overlapped.
Two utterly different yet equally terrifying auras spread outward from the pair like invisible ripples.
"Those two really are monsters..."
Elmaamul raised a hand before herself and slowly clenched it into a fist.
That feeling, as though the outcome of the race had nothing whatsoever to do with her, was infuriating!
"You sure took your time. I was about to fall asleep waiting for you."
At the front of the field, Suave Dancer turned toward McQueen and flashed her a broad, toothy grin.
"I hope you won't make me wait again once we're on the course!"
"Don't worry."
McQueen smiled.
"That won't happen."
After exchanging those two brief remarks, neither said anything else.
They turned forward at the same time and gazed down the winding course stretching into the distance.
Two thousand four hundred meters.
The Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
At that moment, the entire world was watching them.
"All competitors, proceed to the starting gates."
The announcement rang out across the course.
Aside from McQueen and Suave Dancer, the other fourteen Umamusume began walking toward their respective gates.
Some moved with heavy footsteps. Some had gone pale. Others continued taking deep breaths in an effort to calm their violently pounding hearts.
Yet no matter how they felt, when they stood before those gates, the same conviction burned in every pair of eyes.
I want to win too!
Even against those two monsters, I still want to win!
Clack!
All sixteen starting gates slammed shut.
(End of Chapter)
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