Twenty-two days until the Japan Derby.
Garden Gale continued to pour her heart into training, pushing herself harder and harder with one goal in mind: to seize the crown.
Meanwhile—Akikawa Yayoi and Symboli Rudolf were attending a crucial meeting. One was the chairwoman of Tracen Academy, the other the strongest Umamusume of the last two decades.
Preparations had begun days before, including the late-night phone call Rudolf had placed to her old friend. Europe's elite Umamusume, along with their entourage, had landed to discuss racing arrangements for the remainder of the year: exchange spots, invitations, and other minor yet important details.
Inside the JW Marriott Hotel, in front of enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, stretched a long conference table.
Symboli Rudolf leaned comfortably back in her plush leather chair, staring across the table—though her mind drifted from the speaker's words into contemplation.
Seated directly opposite was Montjeu.
—Montjeu.
Europe's new-generation star. She'd raised the Sword of Champions in France, triumphed decisively in the Irish Derby, and those consecutive victories had earned her a spot in the world's greatest turf contest—the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
Today, the Arc contenders were finalized.
And atop the list, as the overwhelming favorite, was none other than Montjeu herself.
Countless voices believed she'd stand at the summit of racing, claiming the Arc and all the glory that came with it.
Of course, she hadn't traveled all the way to Japan merely for sightseeing. Montjeu officially represented European Umamusume at this meeting, securing her place in November's Japan Cup.
Yet, no matter how strong Montjeu was, she wasn't Rudolf's old friend—the veteran from her own era. Where is she? Rudolf wondered in confusion, lost in a sea of questions. Didn't we agree to meet? Was she playing me?
A new thought intruded:
If Garden Gale raced against Montjeu—could she possibly win?
Rudolf briefly simulated it in her mind, then glanced again at Montjeu's composed face and radiant hair cascading down like liquid gold—so dazzling it was nearly impossible to look at directly.
One percent.
That was about Garden Gale's chance of winning. From sheer data and maturity, Montjeu existed on a completely different level. Apart from Garden Gale, the Golden Generation was nearly past its prime. Was there anyone else worth placing faith in?
You have to grow faster, Garden Gale.
That final honor, the task of defending the Japan Cup—
There truly was no one else.
...
Sixteen days left until the Japan Derby.
Admire Vega, who had traveled high into the snowy mountains, was breaking past her limits.
Power. Speed. Stamina.
In both raw physical strength and sheer determination, she knew deep down she'd never been stronger than at this very moment. This new peak was achieved through relentless high-altitude training. Oxygen deprivation pressed painfully into her lungs, and pushing forward in the icy air was nothing short of self-destructive madness.
Yet...
Admire Vega had endured. She'd grown stronger than anyone.
Sometimes, she'd sit quietly in the warmth of the fireplace-lit cabin, staring blankly at her left leg. Other times, she stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing fearlessly at the endless white expanse below.
...
Then there was T.M. Opera O, whose narcissism and eccentricity made her impossible to fully comprehend.
But beneath her extravagant exterior, T.M. Opera O remained a formidable force.
Defeat only pushed T.M. Opera O further forward, deeper into her own legend. At times, she'd narcissistically sing ballads of the End-of-the-Century Overlord, echoing Hamlet's epic moment of vengeance against Claudius—her path always one of poetic inevitability and grand destiny.
...
Meanwhile, Narita Top Road—perhaps the weakest of their group—continued her endless preparations.
Preparation. Preparation. And even more preparation.
She didn't possess their extraordinary talent or unique weapons, but her relentless willpower and steadfast training were her ultimate strengths. She didn't fear failure or the pain of hard work, her mind fixated solely on the pleasure of growth, embracing the ache in her muscles like an exquisite art form.
...
Rudolf finally reunited with her old friend.
But this time, their meeting held a different tone.
Europe had Montjeu, while Japan had Garden Gale. Rudolf proudly boasted about this new prodigy—a monster capable of perfectly imitating racing styles. Naturally, her friend was skeptical: Could someone truly mimic running styles to perfection?
Their argument would soon be settled at the Japan Cup.
A moment that could shake the world—
Everything was steadily converging toward that peak.
...
Yet at the very center of the gathering storm.
Garden Gale, the one everyone was waiting for, had seemingly vanished. Like water dissolving quietly into the sea, she'd disappeared from the view of her teammates at Team LOCK and even from Tokai Teio. No one had the slightest clue what she'd been up to.
Only Curren Chan, who shared a roof with her, knew exactly how tirelessly Garden Gale had been training.
Admire Vega had her mountain training.
Narita Top Road had dedicated more hours than anyone else.
And as for T.M. Opera O—there was no point in mentioning her. She was already a monster who could glimpse the [ZONE].
Under these circumstances, the pressure Garden Gale faced to maintain her winning streak was tremendous. She often daydreamed—if she truly claimed the Triple Crown, just how brilliant would she shine on that stage? Garden didn't mind giving her all for that chance.
Because until now—
She had never once tasted true victory.
A stable, ordered life tamed her mental chaos, channeling it into a mighty river—
The ultimate key to unlocking flow state.
Garden Gale's secret training was simple yet brutal: from dawn till dusk, from dusk till night. Three sessions a day, carefully managing nutrition. Aside from occasional head-bobbing to music to unwind, she allowed herself no downtime.
Absolute discipline. Inner cultivation.
The four contenders' efforts mirrored one another.
Yet ultimately, there could be only one winner.
...
Thirteen days before the Japan Derby.
Montjeu boarded her return flight.
Seated beside the window, gazing out at the boundless blue sky, she reflected on this trip's fruitful results. She hadn't merely raised her profile or secured her path forward in the Umamusume world—she had also earned a coveted spot in November's Japan Cup.
She would return later this year.
She also acquired a new name.
Garden Gale.
That was the opponent her senior had pointed out, clapping Montjeu's shoulder and urging her to defeat that Umamusume no matter what.
Montjeu shifted in her seat, annoyed.
Boring.
—She had no special rival to overcome.
The opponents she'd defeat were simply those who lined up against her at the starting gates. They held no unique names. They were merely opponents to be ruthlessly crushed beneath her hooves.
If Garden Gale entered the Japan Cup, she'd merely be another loser beneath her.
Nothing more.
The names of the defeated weren't worth remembering.
She closed her eyes.
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T/N: oohohho fernch woman