Mejiro...?
The name gave Dream Weaver a moment's pause. Unlike the Northern family she'd never heard of before, she was actually familiar with the Mejiro house.
In the last scripted world—the one led by Oguri Cap's miracle generation—their rivals had included a Uma Musume from the Mejiro family: Mejiro Ardan.
But though she was a powerful Uma Musume strong enough to rival Oguri Cap and the others, Dream Weaver had only heard of her in that scripted world. After returning to reality, she'd never heard anything about her again.
To think she'd hear the name Mejiro here as well? And from the sound of this grandmother's tone, her family had some kind of grudge against them?
Dream Weaver really wanted to ask for details, but this time she hadn't inherited any memories. Asking something like that out of the blue might seem strange.
It wasn't all that important anyway, so Dream Weaver simply set the question aside for now. After all, the Northern family grandmother before her—who had just finished venting her anger toward the Mejiro family—seemed to have more to say.
She took two deep breaths, barely calming the excitement in her heart, before returning to her previous rigid and stern demeanor.
"Let's set that aside for now. Since you've followed me all the way here, you must know what I'm about to say, don't you?"
Under the old woman's sharp gaze, Dream Weaver could only force a nod.
She couldn't very well admit that she actually had no idea.
Satisfied with Dream Weaver's show of understanding, the grandmother gave a nod of approval and pointed toward a large wooden door at the end of the corridor.
"Go on and push it open."
"It's... not exactly convenient for me..."
As Dream Weaver obediently stepped forward and pushed the door open, the grandmother unconsciously dug her fingers into her own thin, withered legs.
She couldn't even manage a simple task like opening a door... and had to trouble a younger generation member for help.
Was this really the Northern family's...
"Grandmother?"
Before she could finish wallowing in her frustration, Dream Weaver's slightly puzzled voice reached her ears.
"Let's go."
Hiding her inner thoughts once more, the Northern family grandmother impassively wheeled herself ahead of Dream Weaver, who—understanding nothing—simply followed close behind.
Unlike the dusty, gloomy, and decaying corridor they'd just left, the world beyond the door was a dazzling, magnificent hall. Ornate relief carvings even reflected the images of Dream Weaver and her grandmother. It was as if time had never touched this place.
Here, time had stopped at the moment when the Northern family was still glorious.
"Our family's history is long and storied. Whether in England or Canada, you can find traces of our ancestors' struggles."
The grandmother wheeled herself forward, leading Dream Weaver from portrait to portrait. As she gazed upon the lifelike images of Uma Musume, she continued speaking.
"This ancestor was named St. Simon. In her day, she achieved a glorious record in British horse racing—nine wins in nine races, undefeated!"
Dream Weaver followed her gaze to a portrait of a brown-haired Uma Musume dressed in Victorian-era leisure wear. She stood on a grassy lawn, offering a confident smile to Dream Weaver beyond the canvas.
"This ancestor's name was Nearco. Born in Italy, she achieved fourteen wins in fourteen races and was hailed as one of the greatest Uma Musume of the twentieth century."
Dream Weaver looked up at the next portrait. This Uma Musume stood with towering spires at her back and a clear canal at her feet—clearly a scene from Venice.
With a faintly raised eyebrow, she flashed a roguish grin toward Dream Weaver outside the portrait. Having been born in Italy, she seemed to have adopted that country's freewheeling spirit.
"Nearco's daughter was named Nearctic, and Nearctic's descendants include the ancestor of our bloodline—"
"Northern Dancer!"
Unlike the previous two ancestors, Northern Dancer's attire was noticeably more modern. In her youth, her expression brimmed with a kind of eager excitement. If not for the requirement of maintaining decorum in the portrait, she likely would've leaped right out of the frame or struck some trendier pose.
Dream Weaver stared into those vibrant, spirited eyes in the portrait, and for a fleeting moment, she almost felt as if she were being watched.
As Dream Weaver studied Northern Dancer, the grandmother's narration continued.
"In her racing career, she never finished below third place. Out of eighteen races, she won fourteen, took second in two, and third in another two. She was once named Uma Musume of the Year in both the United States and Canada!"
"She set a historic record of two minutes flat in the Kentucky Derby—a record that stood for nine years until another legendary Uma Musume, Secretariat, broke it."
Hearing the grandmother's overflowing pride, Dream Weaver couldn't help but nod in agreement.
Now she finally understood—the Northern family was no obscure clan. They weren't some flash-in-the-pan rising star that flamed out quickly after a moment of glory, but a powerful family with a long history, its honor spread across Europe and America.
Faced with ancestors who had achieved so much glory, Dream Weaver—who had only won a few G1 races and hadn't even managed to retire unscathed—felt far too insignificant.
Yet, after learning about the Northern family's glorious history, one question clouded Dream Weaver's heart like a sudden shadow.
How could such an ancient, powerful family have fallen to this state?
But the grandmother didn't seem inclined to explain. After recounting Northern Dancer's historic achievements, she turned her wheelchair to face Dream Weaver.
"I know I've said all this many times before. A child your age might find it boring or tedious."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"But if you don't remember this glory, who will inherit this history?"
The grandmother looked at Dream Weaver, a rare trace of weariness in her voice.
"You are the last Uma Musume in our main bloodline qualified to inherit our ancestors' glory."
"Northern Taste, also from the main branch, lacked the innate talent to win a G1 race, so she was sent to the Akikawa family, our family's allies. She's probably at Central Tracen Academy by now."
"And then there's Matikanetannhauser, who's still racing now. She has somewhat better talent, but..."
Here, the grandmother actually sighed.
"She's simply too foolish—completely incapable of bearing this glory."
"For them, perhaps it's best they never learn any of this."
Suddenly, she lifted her head and stared directly at Dream Weaver, her tone turning serious.
"But you're different. You possess the qualifications. Your natural talent is sufficient to carry the Northern family's glory!"
"So, there's no need to be nervous."
"The Kobe Shimbun Hai is nothing more than a starting point for you."
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T/N: A Certain Scientific Railgun Fanfic Up!
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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.