On the track, the first turn.
Thud—thud!
The horse girls filed through the curve in orderly fashion.
Mud whined underfoot. Every time they lifted a leg, they had to burn extra stamina just to wrench it free.
For most European horse girls, even if they were used to running on heavy going now and then…
this rain-soaked, ultra-heavy track still wasn't something you adapted to easily.
For the majority, this race was a furnace that incinerated endurance.
Especially for Candiglen in third.
They hadn't even covered a quarter of the distance, and she could already feel her thighs starting to ache.
"So… annoying…"
Candiglen grit her teeth. While fighting the centrifugal force of the turn, she also had to spend mental energy carefully adjusting her center of gravity. For an ordinary Classic Year horse girl like her, it was simply too much.
Her breathing began to roughen. That relaxed "just here to see the world" mindset had been flung straight into the stratosphere.
Now she was only thinking about how to finish the race with some dignity intact.
"I really shouldn't have let myself get provoked into entering…"
Candiglen sighed faintly—and just as she was struggling to wrestle with the bottomless footing…
Thump… thump… thump…
A heavy, steady, brutally oppressive set of footsteps abruptly drilled into her ears.
The sound was like a sledgehammer striking the ground in a merciless rhythm.
?!
Candiglen instinctively flicked her eyes to her right rear.
The next second, her clear eyes went wide, pupils reflecting something unbelievable.
There, just behind her to the right, that gray-white figure from the Far East was charging alongside her—furious and relentless.
Even with Candiglen's shallow eye for talent, she could tell: Oguri Cap's stride wasn't dragging for even an instant.
The heavy turf wasn't hindering her at all.
If anything, it had become a springboard she could leverage for power.
"Hm?"
Oguri Cap seemed to notice Candiglen staring and glanced back at her with open disdain.
…This girl.
A chill crawled up Candiglen's spine. No matter how naïve she was, she could tell now—this ash-gray horse girl beside her was not someone you could casually deal with.
Trainer, you lied to me…
Candiglen almost wanted to cry.
…
"Hah…"
Oguri Cap had no idea what she'd done to the rookie in front of her.
Right now, she was immersed in a strange, wonderful realization.
It felt like perfect synchronicity—like she'd fused with the land beneath her feet.
Each time her hoof sank into the wet sod, she could precisely catch the firm support hidden under the mud.
The resistance of splashing muck became a clever buffer inside her muscle memory, turning into momentum that made the next push-off even stronger.
"Hng—"
Wind cut past her ears. The ash-gray girl shifted her body slightly, carving a smooth arc through the first turn.
Thud!
Her horseshoes shattered the turf as Oguri Cap stayed glued to the lead group and stepped out of the curve.
It felt like being back at Central… no—this was even smoother than Central.
The rail flashed past at her side. Oguri Cap drew in a deep breath.
In a daze, a gray current seemed to rise from the void itself, pouring into her body. In an instant, it was like she'd been nourished by something—her stamina deepening, thickening.
Normally, that should've been the power granted by the era-forging force after activating her Domain.
But now, even in ordinary running, Oguri Cap was truly drawing on that strength.
Festive Miracle Lv.5
"Victory…"
A nameless premonition surfaced in Oguri Cap's heart.
…
Time crept forward as the race progressed.
Da-da-da—
Aside from occasional position adjustments in the middle of the field, the seventeen horse girls ran through the mire like precisely meshing gears.
Even on heavy going, these top runners from around the world maintained a terrifying stability.
"We're past the halfway point! The runners are about to leave the backstretch and enter the final turn—the corner that decides life or death!"
Even in the wide-open course, the commentator's voice rang out crystal clear, carrying a fervor that seemed ready to set wind and rain on fire.
"The situation is still deadlocked!"
"Tremont remains in the lead! She has no intention of giving up her throne!"
"Second is Sixton! Third is Candiglen! Fourth is the Far Eastern runner, Oguri Cap!"
"The Pace Chaser group they form is still clamped onto Tremont's tail!"
"So then… who will be the first to sound the horn of attack?!"
…
Meanwhile, in the rear group—
"Hn… ha… hah…" Elmaamul adjusted her breathing rhythm, every exhale spilling out as white mist.
Her brows were tightly drawn. The irritation in her chest kept climbing as the finish drew closer.
But it wasn't because of the mud splattering up from the runners ahead, and it wasn't because of the heavy going that made so many horse girls uncomfortable.
It was because—
"Somalz… what the hell are you thinking?!"
Elmaamul clenched her teeth, her peripheral vision sweeping behind her again and again.
There, the top favorite still held the same position as before—without the slightest hint of making a move.
"We're almost at the final turn! The final stretch is right there!"
"At this point, you still won't go?!"
That gnawing anxiety—the fear of the unknown—made this straightforward genius feel unbearably frantic.
Her original plan had been simple: watch Somalz. The moment Somalz moved, she would move.
But now Somalz was like a corpse—rigidly stuck there—making Elmaamul completely passive.
"Tch!"
Unable to endure her doubt and unease any longer, in the final instant before the field entered the final turn, Elmaamul snapped her head around—no longer hiding it—and looked straight at Somalz behind her.
And—
That single glance made Elmaamul freeze on the spot, her pupils shrinking hard.
The blonde girl hailed as the one aiming straight for the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe—the one the entire European media had raised onto a pedestal—
Her normally cold, proud face was now filled with pain and struggle, her complexion deathly pale.
With her racewear smeared in grime and mud, she looked so miserable it was almost pathetic.
"Hah… hhk…"
Her breathing was fast and ragged, her chest heaving violently like a broken bellows.
Even her thigh muscles trembled uncontrollably. Every step looked painfully heavy and stiff.
She wasn't waiting for timing at all—
She had already been completely crushed, trapped in a cage of pure limit.
…Damn it!
Elmaamul jerked her head forward again, a massive sense of absurdity and dread surging up inside her.
So she wasn't holding back—she just… couldn't run anymore?
The "greatest rival" in everyone's eyes—the top favorite—was already finished before the final phase had even begun?!
Elmaamul didn't have time to think about why that heaven-blessed prodigy was so fragile.
Her eyes turned sharp as blades as she looked past the crowd toward the very front.
Somalz was done—but the other two threats were now completely unhindered!
"I can't wait anymore!"
"If this keeps up, I'm finished too!!!"
In that moment, Elmaamul narrowed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and gathered strength enough to detonate her body.
She shifted slightly outward, taking half a lane toward the outside to avoid the congestion along the rail.
Then, at the instant she stepped into the final turn—
Vmmm—!!
A terrifying aura exploded outward.
Not far away, a horse girl struggling against the centrifugal force on the outside suddenly felt a cold shiver lance up her spine—like some prehistoric beast had locked onto her.
But before she could even react—
"Everyone—get the hell out of my way!!!"
A low, violent roar ripped past her ears in an instant!
The horse girl's eyes widened in terror as she turned her head—
only to see an exquisite face twisted with ferocity, carrying overwhelming presence, streaking past like a cannonball.
A beast that had snapped its chains.
A beast that had finally—
shown its fangs: Elmaamul.
Boom—!
Chestnut lightning tore through the silence of the rear group, carrying an all-crushing momentum as it thundered toward the third cluster ahead.
(End of Chapter)
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