"This… lunatic!"
Behind her, Pirate Ravenhawk stared as Ibu Bocchi suddenly erupted with the power of Domain, disbelief clawing at the depths of her heart.
A 2,400-meter race—and you dare run like this from the opening? How are you going to sustain it later?!
"Ibu Bocchi! Riding a four-race win streak, Ibu Bocchi now takes the point! Everyone is entering the first turn!" the commentator shouted, voice blazing.
"Damn…"
Behind, Ravenhawk watched the widening gap ahead, eyes splitting with rage.
Reason told her she must not be ruled by a moment's temper—but emotion howled at her: chase!
I… I shouldn't…
If I go with her, the risk will be—
Chaotic thoughts crashed around Ravenhawk's skull.
From the White Eagle Nation—on a battlefield far crueller than this Far Eastern course—she should respect victory above all.
But…
All at once Ravenhawk snapped her head up; reason was devoured by fury.
"How could I endure this!!!"
Light bled from her eyes. With a beastlike roar, a force just as mighty speared through her body—Domain ignited!
"Out of my way, you filler trash!!"
BOOM—!
She tore the air and reeled Bocchi back in. "That spot belongs to me!"
"Oh?"
Ibu Bocchi glanced over in surprise as they drew abreast, tilting her head with elegant poise. "Ara, terribly sorry—but the front isn't a place you pull a number for…"
Another girl might have flinched at Ravenhawk's surging menace.
But Ibu Bocchi, a world-class Uma Musume like her, ignored it utterly.
"Next time, don't forget—if you want this spot, be decisive."
Domain — Step One, "True Self Mode" sharpened Bocchi's gaze and sped her thoughts.
"Next time?"
Ravenhawk frowned—and then it hit her. "This lunatic—don't tell me—?!"
"That's right. Next time…"
Bocchi smiled, then stamped her stride deeper into the turf. A blaze burst in her pupils—as if she'd set her life aflame!
"Because this time, I'm the one who will burn out!"
Her speed—spiked again in a single jump!
"Hell no—get back here!"
Ravenhawk refused to cede so much as an inch.
And so, in the opening of a 2,400, the two of them clawed for the front at suicidal pace—
Stunning the pack behind them.
…
"Ibu Bocchi is dueling Pirate Ravenhawk for the lead!"
"Right behind them, third on the rail—the Commoner Queen!"
The commentator's voice blazed through the stadium.
"…In fifth it's Aotake Memory, with Super Creek and Obey Your Master just behind!"
On the course, the battle-tested girls sensed in an instant that today's tempo had gone fatally wrong.
Those two maniacs up front were using an absurd, beyond-the-pale pace—trying to drag everyone to hell with them!
Tch. Want company in a mutual kill?
In the herd, a veteran local girl snorted and quietly eased back half a length.
Count me out of that game.
Only Aotake Memory stared, dazed, at the twin streaks blazing ahead—sealed memories torn open at once.
Her mind snapped back to a week ago.
In the Mile Championship—when she'd witnessed with her own eyes the near-historic "dual great escape" between Fujimasa March and Oguri Cap!
She respected that way of running—deeply.
But—but this is 2,400 meters, a middle-distance race?!
To run a Japan Cup like a mile? Are you kidding me?!
Beside her, a blonde, blue-eyed overseas girl clenched her teeth, cold sweat pearling her brow.
The strategy she'd honed for this race—wrecked within the first 400 meters by two girls who refused to play by any book!
And in the mid-pack headwind—
Super Creek felt the gale hiss at her ears, yet her eyes were clearer than ever.
She wasn't baited by the brawl ahead; she poured all attention into the steady presence just off her rear quarter—solid as bedrock.
At that ludicrous escape pace, no matter how strong they are up front, they can't carry it all the way.
At the latest, around 1,600 meters, they'll blow and fall away.
They shouldn't be so foolish.
Super Creek's gaze was lucid.
Now—she had only one target.
Obey Your Master.
Behind—
Obey Your Master's breathing stayed long and calm—unbroken.
Her steps ticked like a metronome—no waste, not a sliver.
The frenzy up front—the kind that would set any Uma Musume's heart to a war-drum—
In her eyes, it was a far-off farce she'd rehearsed in her head a hundred times already.
Her gaze slid, coolly, past Super Creek, past Aotake Memory—even past the twin meteors ahead devouring themselves.
From start to now, her eyes had fastened to one person only.
The one holding third on the rail—quiet as a shadow—tracking the twin escapes with the most efficient, plain form.
Like a hunter lurking under an eave.
"Queen—when do you plan to strike?"
Obey Your Master murmured to herself, a secret smile lifting her lips.
…
Da-da-da—!
Hooves hammered the turf, a dense roll of drums.
The pace-pushers strode strong, pouring out of the bend.
Time slid by—the race neared its halfway point.
"Ha…"
Behind, Super Creek ran steady, her gaze ranging over the field.
Good. Aside from Ravenhawk and Bocchi, everyone is moving as I read it.
The blue girl let out a tiny breath.
In that case…
She was about to execute the next cue in her plan when the distance marker on the rail snagged the edge of her sight.
1,000… meters?
Huh? That fast?
Already—
"Ha… haa—"
She opened her mouth without meaning to, drawing two deep breaths.
Super Creek's face went still.
What… happened?
I'm… panting?
Am I already getting tired?
At one thousand meters?
Since her debut—aside from those duels with Inari One—even the 3,200-meter Kikuka Sho hadn't drained her this easily.
But now—after only 1,000—she felt as if her stamina had been chewed down to what it was half a year ago, when a race against Inari One was about to hit the home stretch!
Why?!
Her eyes snapped to the front—to the two who had been blasting since the gun, Pirate Ravenhawk and Ibu Bocchi.
Their strides were a touch shaky now—but they were still holding the tempo?
Still… accelerating?
Are they insane?!
"…"
Behind her, Obey Your Master let out a long, fine breath—and with no one the wiser,
let the turn's centripetal pull slide her body just one lane sideways—smooth as water.
That should be about enough.
(End of Chapter)
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