The Divine Blade unsheathed, its blood-stained edge tearing through the track like a violent gale.
Even if she had lost a step, she remained the same blade that had once cut down gods.
The sky itself seemed to tremble before her; a flash of gold and crimson light nearly consumed Dream Weaver's entire field of vision.
Yet, her hands felt nothing.
No sensation of a strike landing home.
Of course.
This was a race run in solitude—what was there left for the Divine Blade to sever?
From the moment she entered the starting gate and failed to sense the presence of Sugar Lights, Dream Weaver had already guessed this outcome.
Still, she had stubbornly drawn her blade, as if refusing to surrender to the inevitable.
But the result had been written in the stars long ago, hadn't it?
She was outmatched physically in every category.
Without the ability to sense her opponent's presence, her Zone became useless. And since this was merely a mock race, there was no hope of triggering any boosts from specialized gear.
Before the race had even begun, Dream Weaver knew she would lose.
And so what? Every Uma Musume loses eventually.
She had repeated those very words to herself countless times; she thought she was prepared for this.
Yet, for some reason, when the moment finally arrived, she realized she wasn't ready at all. The blue and white metal ahead shimmered under the sun's glare, so piercing that she couldn't help but squint.
"Is it because... I've always been winning?" she murmured softly.
Despite the crushing weight she always carried—the knowledge that every race within these Scenario Worlds had a reason why she couldn't lose—Dream Weaver had never actually tasted defeat.
From her debut until this very moment, not once.
The process of seizing victory was always agonizing, but she had grown used to that pain.
Just as she stubbornly treated the racetrack as a battlefield, she had come to take it for granted that she and Murasame would cut through the competition time and time again.
But the world doesn't owe anyone "taken for granted," does it?
Many of the victories she had claimed were only possible because of miracles.
And a miracle is only a miracle because it doesn't happen every day.
Fate had already been kind enough to her.
After so many repeated miracles, it was only natural for a "normal" result to finally surface.
Yet Dream Weaver knew that even now, she held one last chance to embrace a miracle.
"Kindling Flame..."
She whispered the name of the skill. Born in the Satsuki Sho and forged in the Japanese Derby, it was the source of so many of her past wonders.
If she activated it now, an unparalleled power would surge through her. Her heart would turn into a furnace once more, forging her will into a brand-new miracle.
The process would be excruciating—unbearable for any normal person—but it was the only ticket to victory she had left.
The eruption of Kindling Flame would link with True Self, and her Intuition would sharpen drastically in the heat of the flames. If her will remained steadfast enough, she might even trigger Nirvana again.
If she did that, even with her Zone neutralized, she would still have a fighting chance to win!
But... was it really worth using now?
Was she truly going to pay such a heavy price for a trivial mock race that didn't even affect her mission?
No matter how effective Agnes Tachyon's concoctions were, she would be bedridden for at least a month.
There were only six months left until Liberty Island had to step onto the turf of the Japan Cup to face Equinox. Could she really afford to waste a month on a race like this?
If she wasn't there to supervise, what if their training went off the rails?
What if Liberty Island pushed herself into overtraining out of a desperate hunger for victory, with no one there to tell her to stop?
What if Hishi Miracle started slacking off again because no one was there to nag her?
The price was too high. This wasn't the final battle of the Scenario World. She absolutely could not waste Kindling Flame here.
So... even if failure was certain, she could not use that ticket to a miracle.
In an instant—the very moment that thought took hold—Dream Weaver suddenly understood something.
"So... that's how it is."
Only now did she finally realize why the "her" of this Scenario World had failed time and again at the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
Because the price was too high.
At the end of the day, the Arc wasn't truly that special. It was just a high-prestige G1 race.
Was it really worth activating Kindling Flame—burning her very self—just to trade for a miracle?
If she did that, what would come after?
The Dream Weaver who existed before she arrived in this world didn't know Agnes Tachyon.
In her mind, the lightest cost of Kindling Flame would be tearing the muscles in her legs. Even if they could be healed, it would take six months, maybe a year.
How could she face the fans who supported her then?
They wanted to see her win, sure, but was the Arc worth that kind of sacrifice?
If she didn't use the skill, she could go on to win many more G1 races the following year.
So was the Arc really that important?
Besides, the first time this world's Dream Weaver ran the Arc, she had lost by a hair's breadth. It wasn't like the Triple Crown; it wasn't a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
If you lose this time, you just try again next time, right?
Since the gap was so small, she felt she could win even without a miracle. She just needed to work a little harder, be a little more serious, and winning the Arc would be no different from winning any other race.
There was always a "next time." And then another "next time."
Through a cycle of endless next times, the Dream Weaver of this world had reached the present.
But by the time the "real" Dream Weaver arrived here, she still hadn't won the Arc.
She had even lost her grasp on the second-place finish that seemingly belonged to her. There wouldn't be many "next times" left.
Dream Weaver stared blankly at the figure ahead of her, the one reflecting the sunlight so brightly it almost blinded her.
Even as tears began to stream down her face from the glare, she refused to look away.
Before this moment, she hadn't felt any real connection to the "self" of this world—not to the title of world-class Uma Musume, nor the so-called Curse of the Arc.
Everyone assumed she was bitter, that she would stake everything to try for the Arc one more time.
Agnes Tachyon thought she would take the medicine and challenge the Arc again before her window closed.
Sea the Stars thought she would continue as she always had, forever charging toward that finish line.
But she hadn't.
Dream Weaver had simply stayed quietly at Tracen Academy, doing her absolute best to teach her two trainees. She had remained silent until Agnes Tachyon found peace and Sea the Stars grew restless.
But in this moment, Dream Weaver suddenly understood them.
She understood the version of herself that lived here.
She had only lost a mock race she was destined to lose, yet her heart felt so hollow and lost.
What about her?
After losing the Arc so many times, what kind of storms must have raged inside her soul?
For reasons she couldn't name, Dream Weaver just felt a sudden, profound sadness.
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! Webnovel will get 2 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.