France.
Longchamp Racecourse.
El Condor Pasa walked across the turf—a grass fundamentally different from that of Japan—and looked up, inhaling the air of the "world's best" stage. A faint smile played on her lips.
During these past six months in France, her life had been incredibly fulfilling.
While carefully managing her physical condition, she had pushed her training volume to its absolute limit, working alongside Toujou Hana and her seniors to dissect the running styles of competitors like Montjeu.
It was safe to say she was currently at the absolute peak of her career since her debut.
She scanned the spectator stands, looking at the diverse faces and hair colors of the crowd, searching for something specific.
After a moment, all she could find were a few Japanese students studying abroad in France.
"If only Barbatos were here."
"I'd let her see with her own eyes how I become number one in the world!"
As for being the best in the world—winning the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe—she was utterly certain of it.
Even though she had felt a slight threat from Dancing Brave, a member of Montjeu's team, in previous races, it didn't matter now.
She shifted her gaze through the eyeholes of her mask, looking directly into the live broadcast camera.
"Barbatos, and everyone else... you must be watching right now, right?"
"I really wished you could have been here in person, but even without you cheering by my side, I'm going to take the Arc with ease!"
"Barbatos, wait for me to come back!"
At some point, El Condor Pasa's goal had shifted.
Winning the Arc was no longer the ultimate destination; it was a trial, a means to temper herself and grow stronger. Only by defeating Barbatos could she truly claim the title of the world's greatest.
She had watched the battle between Barbatos and the President through a communication device. Since Barbatos had already reached that level, she had to keep moving forward as well.
"It seems you have a very close relationship with that 'Number One' in Japan."
The sound of white boots striking the ground echoed as a cape brushed past the grass.
Montjeu approached El Condor Pasa with an air of composure and goodwill. She wasn't speaking French, but fluent Japanese.
"Montjeu?" El Condor Pasa was stunned. "You actually speak Japanese?"
Montjeu smiled. "Isn't it a required course for us world-class Uma Musume?"
Her words carried a clear acknowledgement of El Condor Pasa.
Even though this was their first face-to-face conversation, El Condor Pasa's victory over their teammate Dancing Brave and her wins in several French G1 races were proof enough that her strength was world-class.
"I hope we can both enjoy this race."
"The Arc championship—I'm taking it!" El Condor Pasa tightened her fist, declaring her certain victory.
Montjeu responded with confidence, "Then I shall simply fly faster than the Condor."
--+--
"The Uma Musume competing in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe are rearing to go at the starting gates!"
"Look at the popularity of Japan's El Condor Pasa! Can she overcome Montjeu and seize victory at the Arc?!"
"The runners have entered the gates!"
Clang!
"The gates are open! And they're off!"
"A perfect start for El Condor Pasa! Is she choosing a front-running strategy, which is a complete departure from her usual style?"
"Wait, no! Aside from Montjeu, every other runner seems to have had a slight delay at the start?!"
The commentator in charge of the Arc was well-versed in Uma Musume from across the globe.
After a momentary lapse in shock, he realized what had happened. "El Condor Pasa activated her Zone the very instant the gates opened!"
"It seems she wants to pull away from Montjeu right from the start. Unfortunately, the release of the Zone didn't hinder Montjeu's opening strides at all!"
"It wasn't at the moment the gates opened."
Hearing the commentator's voice, El Condor Pasa maintained a confident smile as she began her lead.
Her Zone had been activated the moment she entered the gate, while there was still time before the start.
The other runners simply hadn't recovered from the shock of seeing a Zone unleashed inside the starting stalls.
Back in Japan these days, isn't this just a common occurrence?
"So, is this race going to be a 1v1 between me and Montjeu right from the jump?"
El Condor Pasa felt no fear regarding a duel with the world's best.
Her ears twitched, judging Montjeu's position by the sound of boots pounding the turf. There was a gap of about one and a half horse lengths, and the distance was still widening.
Even without her Zone fully flared, and even though she wasn't yet giving it her all, Montjeu shouldn't be able to keep up this easily.
"This rhythm... it's actually a bit nostalgic. If I run too many races in France, I might actually lose touch with Barbatos's pace when I go back."
Run slowly to conserve stamina? In the current generation of Japanese racing, that concept simply didn't exist!
Soon, El Condor Pasa passed the third turn. She had barely depleted a fraction of her stamina.
Thanks to her long-term training, while her endurance wasn't as freakish as Barbatos's, she was still a monster compared to other girls.
"A lead of over four lengths already?"
El Condor Pasa gauged the distance by Montjeu's now-faint footsteps.
As she rounded the fourth turn, the gap approached five lengths. The 500-meter final straight stretched out before her.
"Montjeu, let me see the true power of the world's best!"
In second place, Montjeu utilized a specialized breathing technique, her legs suddenly surging with power. "Five lengths... on this final straight, I'll show you the strength of France's finest!"
A massive pressure emanated from Montjeu, like a hunter locking eyes on her prey as she stared at El Condor Pasa leading by nearly five lengths.
"A five-length gap, 500 meters... that's more than enough!"
Her feet blurred across the turf in a frantic rhythm as she ignited her Zone. Even trailing by five lengths, she maintained her poise.
Running at such a speed after activating a Zone early on, El Condor Pasa's stamina should be nearing its end.
Maintaining that pace and a Zone for the whole race was something few could manage, but even so, Montjeu left room for the possibility of El Condor Pasa using a final burst of speed.
"?"
Feeling the pressure of Montjeu's Zone and hearing the rapid, heavy rhythm of her footsteps, El Condor Pasa couldn't help but glance back out of the corner of her eye.
This should have been the moment she was most on guard—at least, it would be if her opponent were Barbatos.
A doubt surfaced in her heart. Despite her confidence in winning the Arc, and despite being prepared to be chased down on the final straight, a single thought popped into her head: "That's it?"
The thought vanished instantly. Without holding anything back, she poured every ounce of her strength into her legs.
In the commentary box, the French announcer was screaming with excitement, "Montjeu! Montjeu is making her move! She's catching up—"
"Wait... this... this is!"
On the final straight, El Condor Pasa's speed exploded once again. Just as Montjeu had predicted, El Condor Pasa, who had led with her Zone active, still had the stamina for a final kick.
However, Montjeu had completely miscalculated the speed of that final kick!
"El Condor Pasa crosses the line! She's beaten Montjeu by nearly seven lengths! This wasn't a duel! This was a complete one-sided slaughter by El Condor Pasa!"
Crossing the finish line, El Condor Pasa looked back to see Montjeu finishing several seconds behind her.
Was Montjeu weak? Not at all.
If El Condor Pasa hadn't adopted a front-running strategy, she never would have won so easily. But Montjeu had misjudged her endurance and the explosive burst she had saved for the final stretch.
Though she was looking at Montjeu, the image of Barbatos flickered in her mind.
This Arc was actually so simple. It doesn't even come close to the pressure of racing against Little Bar.
While El Condor Pasa's thoughts drifted, Montjeu had already regained her composure.
She walked up and extended a white-gloved hand. "El Condor Pasa, you are strong. Congratulations on winning this year's Arc."
El Condor Pasa blinked, then reached out and shook her hand.
"At the Japan Cup, I will have my revenge." Montjeu still looked as composed as ever.
Losing hurt, but she didn't doubt her own abilities. This defeat might have stemmed from underestimating her opponent, but the real loss was in strategy. She would win it back at the Japan Cup.
"I'll be waiting for you," El Condor Pasa replied confidently.
She turned to accept the cheers of the crowd, but stopped halfway and spoke.
"That final straight just now..."
"If it were Barbatos... she would have caught me."
--+--
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.