Bang!
The gates opened, and twenty figures shot out at once.
As one of the world's highest-level races, every participant here was an uma musume standing at the very peak of her own country.
The instant the gates opened, a tremendous aura erupted outward. From the start alone, it was possible to feel how different this race was. The uma musume's steps were powerful and heavy, and several tall figures burst forward with terrifying speed like arrows released from a bowstring.
A contest far more intense than any ordinary race unfolded at Longchamp Racecourse.
The shoulders and arms of the uma musume collided with heavy thuds.
Relying on their extraordinary physical ability, they tried to establish an advantage at the very beginning. The taller uma musume moved through the pack as if there was no one there, forcing their way toward the inside without caring whether anyone was in their path. The slightly smaller uma musume had no choice but to avoid their momentum for the time being.
What a domineering running style!
Seeing their movements, Fujiwara Chiya's gaze turned serious.
Shirayuki was not caught in the middle of that group.
But that was not because she had already broken free.
Even with her talent for starting, it was still difficult for her to easily escape in front of this group of uma musume who stood at the peak of their respective countries.
In reality, her luck was bad.
Extremely bad.
In a race with twenty runners, she had drawn gate number seventeen.
It was very close to the outside, practically an outermost gate. In a two-thousand-four-hundred-metre race, the closer one was to the outside, the easier it was to fall into an unfavourable situation. As the saying went, one wrong step led to every step going wrong. If she could not gain an advantage early on, then in the middle and later stages of the race, she would be forced to follow the rhythm of the other uma musume and change her own pace.
In a race like the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, unless one's strength was absolutely outstanding, being assigned to an outside gate basically meant one's chances of victory were slim.
Even gate eight or nine would have been fine.
But seventeen…
There was simply no way to rush into the inside lane.
When Satake Mei saw Shirayuki's number on the screen, the light vanished from her eyes. Across all of Japan, countless people fell into mourning cries.
Even Gold Ship and the others rarely covered their faces.
Misfortune.
This was misfortune!
Had Shirayuki not prayed to the Three Goddesses before the race?
Amid all those sighs, Fujiwara Chiya calmly observed the racecourse.
For Shirayuki, gate seventeen was obviously an extremely unfavourable position. It meant that the early stage of the race was basically ruined for her. In the middle and later stages, she would also be led around by others. The tactics she could use were limited, and her main focus would have to be preserving her stamina rather than interfering with her opponents.
The turning point of victory and defeat would come near the end of the race.
That curve and the final straight.
If Shirayuki could break free there, then she would have a slim chance of survival.
This is awful.
Fujiwara Chiya clenched his fist.
He had made every preparation.
But luck was not standing on his side.
Why did it have to be an outer gate?
Even a middle gate would have given Fujiwara Chiya confidence in seizing a forward position. For the current Shirayuki, a good position was truly too important. It would allow her to disrupt the entire field.
But things had already reached this point.
Fujiwara Chiya could only accept it.
He looked at Gold Ship and the others, whose brows were furrowed, then at Satake Mei, who was biting her lip, and took a deep breath.
He felt awful too.
But he could not show it.
Because he was the pillar supporting the entire team.
Everyone was looking at him.
No matter how desperate the situation became, he could not show a desperate expression.
He absolutely could not panic.
Let me think.
How should we run this race…?
At present, there were only two running styles placed before Fujiwara Chiya.
Late runner from the middle, or closer from the rear.
The advantage of running from the middle was that Shirayuki's adaptability was high. Her control over the racecourse was close to perfect.
But at the same time, this race was a rare full-gate race, with a total of twenty uma musume participating. One could easily imagine how many runners would be in the middle pack. If she entered that area, she would be blocked by uma musume on all sides, making it difficult to seize the timing for acceleration. In the worst-case scenario, she would not be able to break out of the pack at all and would be carried all the way to the finish while trapped in the crowd.
If she ran as a closer, she could avoid being boxed in to a certain degree.
But first, Shirayuki was not particularly familiar with that running style.
Second, near the end of the race, there might not necessarily be an unobstructed route.
And even if Shirayuki's straight-line acceleration was strong, they still had to ensure that she had enough leg strength remaining in the final phase of the race.
In just a few short seconds, Fujiwara Chiya went through a long and intense storm of thought. His brain spun faster than ever before, to the point that he did not even hear Satake Mei calling beside him.
"Chiya…"
Looking at the man's serious face, Satake Mei closed her mouth.
She believed in Chiya.
She believed in that big boy who had walked step by step until now through his own effort.
After drawing this gate, he must have told Shirayuki what she should do.
Satake Mei placed her hope in Fujiwara Chiya.
And not only her.
The hopes of all Tracen rested on him.
Countless pairs of eyes were watching Fujiwara Chiya.
Watching the Snow Dancer.
After a brief hesitation, Fujiwara Chiya made his decision.
"Currently running at the front is the uma musume from America, Moonlight Madness! In second is the uma musume from Russia, Orlov! In third…"
The announcer rapidly described the race situation.
"In fifth, Trêve!"
Before the race began, Trêve had drawn gate six. It was a fairly good position, but that also meant she would have to go through the fight for position after the gates opened.
Trêve had already anticipated this.
After the race began, she maintained a speed parallel to the uma musume on her right. When the other runner moved inward, Trêve also moved inward. She did not hurry to accelerate. Instead, she used the other uma musume as a shield, blocking the impact from the surrounding runners.
That bought Trêve a considerable amount of time.
While the uma musume to her side were clashing against one another, Trêve had already moved into the inside of the track.
By giving up one position, she successfully protected fifth place.
This method sounded simple, but actually executing it was extremely difficult.
She had to observe the distance between herself and the uma musume beside her, confirm that the two of them were on the same line, and avoid colliding. At the same time, she also had to pay attention to the uma musume who had already merged into the inside lane, as well as those who were still merging in.
At minimum, she needed to observe more than four opponents at the same time to succeed.
For Trêve, who did not have an all-seeing view of the field, the areas outside her vision could only be compensated for with hearing.
A race was not fought with legs alone.
Her eyes, her arms, her ears, every part of her body was a weapon for victory.
And running was a full-body movement.
From the moment Trêve stepped onto the racecourse, she had understood that.
Her trainer had praised her, saying she was a natural-born runner. Trêve did not quite understand what that meant, but she knew that when her feet began to move, wind passed through her body.
Her body felt so clear, as if she could sense everything.
Her senses became part of the racecourse.
Running was her way of living.
And so, Trêve had begun her undefeated path.
Just as Trêve secured fifth place, the announcer's voice rang across the racecourse once more.
"In fourteenth, Snow Dancer!"