Every legendary tale must eventually reach its glorious conclusion, but reality always marches onward. After reaching the pinnacle, what follows is never an eternal happy ending—instead, it's one challenge after another, crashing down in relentless succession.
Amidst these trials, there exists the possibility of reinventing oneself and striving toward even greater victories.
But for the vast majority, the true end is a gradual decline, beaten down by wave after wave of challenges.
This holds true even for the great racing families.
Powerful Uma Musume, bound by blood, seize victory after victory on the track. The continuous positive feedback cycles back into the family, until eventually they become a colossal force dominating a corner of the horse racing world—that is how a great racing house is born.
But just as there is rise, there is also fall.
A family might build its reputation through one generation's dazzling performances and an exceptional Uma Musume, but what comes after? No one can guarantee the next generation will produce a successor capable of upholding that glory.
The world of horse racing is ever-changing. The reign of great families shifts, era after era.
Some fade reluctantly into the shadows; others retire content, feeling they've achieved all they could. Regardless, they all must eventually step back from the stage, making room for the next generation of rising stars.
Yet among them, there are always those noble houses—unwilling to accept their fate—who gather their strength for one final, desperate struggle.
They pour every resource of the clan into supporting the last hope of their bloodline, praying that this young successor can restore the family's former glory and keep their name alive in the racing world a little while longer.
For such families, those in charge are filled with despair. They know all too well that even if a talented descendant emerges, it would only delay the inevitable decline. Sooner or later, they will be swallowed by the tides of time.
And for the young star who carries everyone's hopes? She, too, lives in despair. As the family's last hope, she bears pressures beyond imagination. Centuries of history weigh on her shoulders. She must single-handedly restore the glory of the past.
For such a family, and for such an heir, this final struggle is little more than a painful, desperate thrashing in the dark.
Yet even knowing the odds are impossible, there will always be those in decline who choose to walk this path of thorns and suffering, bearing the weight of glory long lost.
This racetrack no longer has a place for them.
And that is precisely why they must struggle with every last ounce of strength—to shine one final, dazzling time.
[Scenario mission constructed.]
A cold, mechanical voice roused Dream Weaver from the darkness. As she opened her eyes, a deep green world unfolded before her.
A few sparse rays of sunlight broke through the dense canopy, casting faint patches of light on the weed-covered earth. The warmth they brought wasn't even enough to dry the dew. Almost the entire world was buried in shadow.
There were no human voices, no birds singing—only the soft, rustling whisper of a cool breeze passing through the branches.
A faint scent of decay drifted past Dream Weaver's nose. As she glanced around the dim forest, an out-of-place, old-fashioned ticking suddenly reached her ears.
She turned toward the sound. Before her stood an old yet still luxurious mountain villa. Weeds twisted around its walls like a green curtain, with patches of dark brown peeking through the gaps. Even in the broad daylight, it carried a musty, decaying aura.
The villa's door hung open, revealing a grand hall blanketed in dust. On what must have once been an expensive—now worn—carpet stood an exquisite antique clock, ticking away as it measured time that had long since slipped into oblivion.
The gloomy, dilapidated villa and the ancient clock made Dream Weaver feel as if she'd wandered onto the set of a horror film.
Normally, by now, she should have inherited the memories of this scripted world. But Dream Weaver waited and waited—nothing came.
Not understanding why, she let her thoughts wander and murmured to herself, "Last scenario, I had to defeat elite racers as a country-born Uma Musume. This time… I'm playing the fallen noble daughter trying to restore her family's glory?"
"Two completely opposite roles back-to-back… System, I'm starting to suspect you have a twisted sense of humor."
Of course, the system didn't reply—not that Dream Weaver expected it to.
She was just about to analyze the situation based on the system's introduction before the scenario began, when she suddenly noticed something strange—an unusual sensation throughout her entire body.
Unlike the previous two scenarios, this time she clearly felt that her base abilities had improved significantly.
A little puzzled, Dream Weaver silently called out in her mind: 'System, open status panel.'
As soon as she formed the thought, that semi-transparent blue screen appeared before her eyes again.
--+--
[Uma Musume Training System — Scenario Panel]
Character: Northern Dreams
Speed: A [Legend Tier]
Stamina: A [Legend Tier]
Power: B [Elite Tier]
Guts: A [Legend Tier]
Wit: B [Elite Tier]
Affinity: Turf A, Dirt C
Zone: [Cursed Blade/Murasame]
Skills: Intuition (Purple), Burning Embers (Purple), Kindling Flame (Blue), Pilgrimage of Pain (Blue)
[Blueblood (Purple)]
[Description: Bloodline theory is no joke in the horse racing world. The blood of powerful Uma Musume truly contains unimaginable power—this is especially true for those from prestigious families.
An Uma Musume with blueblood possesses talent unreachable by ordinary racers. Limits that once seemed impossible become attainable. But... is such power truly without cost?]
--+--
The changes in this scenario's status panel were anything but small. Not only had her name quietly changed, but a purple skill had suddenly appeared as well.
But Dream Weaver had no mind to dwell on that right now. She was too busy staring, somewhat dazed, at her attributes. That lingering problem which had always troubled her—the limit she could only break through at great cost—had vanished without a sound?
After staring blankly for a long moment, she finally noticed the newly appeared purple skill. Reading the description of [Blueblood], Dream Weaver murmured softly, "So this… is what they call 'blueblood'?"
Before she could fully process it, a hoarse, low voice suddenly spoke from behind her.
"Dreams! What are you doing there? Have you finished today's training already?!"
She turned and saw an elderly Uma Musume with snow-white hair, seated in a wheelchair.
The memories that she thought hadn't arrived suddenly activated at the sight of this old woman. Without thinking, Dream Weaver responded:
"Grand… mother?"
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 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.