Blinding with fury, the cursed blade was drawn in an instant.
Its razor-sharp edge, carrying an unmistakable bloodlust akin to a wrathful demon, swallowed the two European trainers whole.
Their hearts hammered wildly, every nerve trembling. The survival instinct carved into their very beings forced them to stumble backward, yet under the blade's menacing glow, they couldn't even keep their feet.
After just a few steps, their legs turned to jelly, and their faltering hearts sent them crashing heavily to the ground.
Right then, a strange, phantom light seemed to flash in Dream Weaver's black eyes. To the two trainers, she appeared as terrifying as a demon brandishing a sword.
Under such overwhelming pressure, offering an apology was out of the question. They couldn't even manage to swallow the metallic-tasting saliva in their throats, only managing to let out a few choked, guttural moans.
"Is this all you've got?"
Dream Weaver stared coldly at the two cowards who'd already lost their nerve.
"You call yourselves European trainers, yet you're this pathetic?"
"Someone like you dares to speak about the racetrack?"
As she spoke, the demonic aura radiating from her grew even more violent and hostile.
These clowns couldn't even withstand her presence—what right did they have to so freely judge the Uma Musume?
Was it all because of some fancy credentials stamped 'Europe'?
Pushed to the brink of terror, their hearts ached from the frantic pounding. Their reason shattered by this fear, they began to shout and yell, desperate for any shred of security.
"Y-y-you... what did you say! A mere student from a backwater Tracen branch dares to criticize European trainers?! Do you want to be stuck in this dump for life!"
"Nothing but... nothing but a bunch of backwards losers! Even that 'Shinzan' is just a tamed—"
THWACK!
His rant was cut short by a deafening crash from behind them. Dust motes danced on the air current brushing against their sweat-soaked backs.
A sharp, stinging pain bloomed on their cheeks, followed by the warm trickle of liquid, staining the earth beneath them with an indescribable foulness.
"Aah, aah, aaaah—!"
One of the men, his mouth agape, trembled as he clutched the bleeding cut on his face.
He turned his head in horror to look back. The solid wall behind them was now webbed with cracks, as if shattered by some invisible force.
The other stared with wide, burning eyes at Dream Weaver's hoof. In his utterly broken field of vision, a fragment of stone, now embedded in the wall, tumbled away from her feet.
The thunderous echo of the impact still buzzed in their eardrums.
Seeing that the two were now too terrified to even form words, Dream Weaver still wasn't satisfied.
Her gaze, sharp as a honed blade, remained locked on them as she took one step, then another, in their direction.
Each footfall landed like a sledgehammer against the two who had been so arrogant moments before, making them feel as if their hearts were about to be pulverized.
Just as Dream Weaver was about to reach them, a figure darted from behind her, wrapping their arms around her waist and holding her back.
"Dream! Calm down!"
Shiragawa, holding onto Dream Weaver, shouted herself hoarse. Even though she was the one who had been most deeply wronged, she was the one who stepped forward to stop her.
Dream Weaver didn't struggle against her hold. Instead, she looked at the two men, now scared out of their wits, and let out a disdainful 'Hmph!'
She knew this script world was different from all the others she had experienced.
She had mentally prepared herself for the methods the European horse racing world used to establish its absolute authority.
But she simply could not tolerate these two worms sullying the title of 'trainer'.
In her heart, true trainers were people like Chizuru Haibara and the others—those who had steadfastly stayed with them Uma Musume through tough times, firm in their will and dedicated to making plans, people who genuinely loved the Uma Musume.
These two in front of her were nothing but parasites clinging to the Uma Musume.
If it weren't for the Uma Musume running on the tracks, chasing their own dreams, scum like them would never have had the chance to become trainers, let alone stand here and spout such nonsense at Shiragawa.
It was this stark contrast that made Dream Weaver unable to suppress her disgust for these two. After they'd been scared out of their minds but still dared to spew insults, she simply kicked a loose stone fragment at her feet.
Still, she hadn't completely lost her head to anger. Otherwise, that stone wouldn't have been aimed at the wall.
However, the tremendous noise inevitably drew the attention of everyone on the training ground—the journalists, and the other trainers from Europe.
They all stared at Dream Weaver with looks of stunned disbelief, as if to say, 'How could such a thing happen at Tracen?'
But Dream Weaver was even more bewildered than they were.
How could they allow such a thing to happen at Tracen? She refused to believe she was the first to overhear these two's vile comments.
And yet, no one had made a move to stop them.
At this thought, the anger that had begun to settle within Dream Weaver surged once more.
Shiragawa, still behind her, seemed to sense the change and softly tried to dissuade her.
But this time, Dream Weaver just gently removed the hands from her waist, turned, and shook her head at her.
Then, she turned her icy gaze back to the two men cowering on the ground.
"You said there are no promising Uma Musume here, didn't you?"
The terrified pair were long past forming coherent sentences, only managing to open and close their mouths with faint 'Ah... ah...' sounds.
But Dream Weaver's words weren't really for them anyway. She raised her voice again, projecting it across the entire training ground, addressing all who watched her.
"Then I'll show you! I'll let you witness exactly what a freshman of Tracen is capable of!"
Dream Weaver spun around sharply, calling out to the staff recording the race data.
"Record my speed! Then go and compare it with those so-called professionally trained Uma Musume from Europe! See if any of them can even hope to keep up with my shadow!"
Having said that, she paid no mind to the astonished stares of the crowd and strode alone towards the starting gate.
Standing outside the training grounds, watching this scene unfold, Mr. C.B. felt, for some reason, that the chronic resentment coiled in her chest for years seemed to lessen considerably under Dream Weaver's declaration.
A smirk unconsciously tugged at the corner of her lips. Her gaze followed Dream Weaver's path across the field.
"An interesting Uma Musume."
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T/N: Keep aura farming, Dream Weaver
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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.