An undisputed victory.
Watching that figure below—right arm raised high beyond the finish line, basking in the roar of the entire crowd—Kuroha stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows with his hands clasped behind his back, far calmer than the three at his side, who were practically vibrating with excitement.
Only the faint curve at the corner of his mouth gave him away, proof that he was genuinely happy for the young horse girl down there.
This race had been fierce, but to him, the ending had been decided from the start.
The only truly threatening opponent in the entire field had been the Irish representative—Perilous Filly—who, at the absolute limit, had forced open the "second step" of her Domain.
But her Domain… was too immature.
Compared to the "Chasing Light" monsters under his banner, it didn't even belong in the same conversation. Even next to Tamamo Cross, Super Creek, or even Elmaamul from a few months ago, it felt painfully thin.
It was like she'd only just brushed her fingertips against the door, still unable to freely marshal that deeper, primordial might unique to horse girls.
She could only drive it by leaning on timing and emotion—barely.
Aside from Domain, her raw physical specs were solid, only slightly below Oguri Cap's.
But her running technique was crude… so crude that even Oguri Cap in her "Holy Night" state would struggle to surpass it—let alone engage in a direct Domain clash.
As for the others—Chiduo-bao and the rest—sure, their talent deserved respect.
But in the face of an absolute gap in power, they were nothing more than set dressing beside two "era-makers" like Oguri Cap and Perilous Filly, and they fell with no suspense at all.
So what Kuroha truly cared about wasn't merely winning a race.
It was what that victory meant.
It meant Oguri Cap had completed her metamorphosis—fully stepping into the ranks of the world's elite.
In half a year: sweeping across Europe and Asia, seizing three international G1 wins.
A record like that was enough to carve her name into Central Tracen—no, into the history of horse girls worldwide—with ink so dark it would never fade.
"Kuroha—!"
Right as Kuroha was sinking into that soaring, "standing atop the summit" kind of awe, a pale arm suddenly shot out from the side and hooked around his neck.
Kuroha didn't even sway—if anything, it was that faint contact that sent a tiny ripple through him.
He turned his head.
It was Nase Fumino.
On tiptoe, she strained to keep her grip around the colleague who stood a head taller than she did, her pretty eyes brimming with mischievous amusement.
"Hey. We're celebrating a win. What reward do you want?"
"And for the next few days, you've gotta treat us—no, scratch that. You have to cook yourself. A few big meals to reward us!"
"Keh…" Kuroha rolled his eyes, looking at her with pure resignation.
That composed, master-strategist aura he'd just built up—gone. Completely shredded by this gremlin in two sentences.
He glanced around. The Hong Kong Jockey Club director, Xiao Xiong, had vanished at some point—tactfully excusing himself.
No wonder Fumino was acting this free.
"All right, all right. Fine. You win." Kuroha lifted both hands in surrender, smiling as he shook his head. "For the next few days, I'll cook personally. Name what you want, as much as you want. I'll feed you till you drop. Sound good?"
"Yesss—! Kuroha-san really is the best!"
Fumino hadn't even gotten the next word out before Berno Light, off to the side, lit up and high-fived Super Creek, her face full of anticipation.
Seeing everyone so happy together, Kuroha leaned back against the window. His helpless smile carried a warmth that looked almost indulgent.
Then he tilted his head, his gaze slipping through the glass to the infield below.
Oguri Cap had finished her victory lap and was now jogging lightly toward the competitors' tunnel.
"Alright. Let's go." Kuroha straightened his collar and turned toward the door. "Time to go pick up our hero."
…
That night.
The stars were few, the moon bright, and the air was cool as water.
On the rooftop of a dorm building at the Hong Kong Training Center, the banquet hall below blazed with light. Laughter and chatter seeped faintly through the ceiling—everyone raising glasses to celebrate Oguri Cap's triumphant return.
But as one of the night's central figures, Kuroha slipped away during a lull mid-banquet and quietly came up to the roof.
He wore only a simple coat, letting the chilly December night wind run over his fingers.
Both hands braced on the railing, he tipped his chin up, staring at the luminous white moon hanging in the sky.
His eyes went unfocused, savoring a rare moment of stillness.
With the overseas campaign ending perfectly, the taut nerve he'd kept wound tight for a full half-year finally, truly loosened.
In front of others, he'd always looked confident—like everything was under control.
But this had been his first time leading a team on an overseas expedition. Carrying the whole squad's hopes on his shoulders while facing doubt from every direction… saying he hadn't feared something going wrong would've been a lie.
Now, the dust had settled.
Every ounce of effort had been repaid, and another piece of his life's dream had clicked into place.
Under this endless sky, an inexplicable peace and relief seeped quietly into his limbs and bones.
Since the day he'd come to this world, the goals he'd set for himself had been coming true one by one.
Become an outstanding trainer.
Be with the horse girl he loved… and, together, do the umapyoi.
Save the ones who'd once left him with that helpless ache on the other side of a screen…
One by one. Step by step.
Time kept moving, and those wishes kept turning into reality—slowly, but steadily.
"And besides…"
As the thought settled, Kuroha raised his right hand slightly, palm up.
"Hm—"
A faint tremor rippled through space itself, and a dreamlike, rainbow radiance bloomed out of the void, docilely gathering above his palm.
Blessing Power.
Divine might—or, more precisely, power that should have belonged only to the Three Goddesses of horse girls.
Before, even at his limit, Kuroha could barely form a light sphere about seven or eight centimeters across—about the size of a tennis ball.
But now…
With a shift of intent—
That rainbow orb seemed to receive some vast nourishment and began to swell wildly.
Ten centimeters… twenty… forty…
In the blink of an eye, it expanded to sixty centimeters.
"…" Kuroha stared at the enormous rainbow sphere hovering above his hand—like a miniature spirit bomb—and the corner of his mouth twitched.
Just a few hours. Oguri Cap wins one international G1… and this power jumps almost tenfold?
Seriously?
Or was this thing fueled by the mind, too—something that grows the moment your mental state "ascends"?
Narrowing his eyes, he mulled it over for a moment. Then Kuroha curled his fingers, guiding that "spirit bomb" of Blessing Power down—pressing it slowly into his own chest.
Boom—
In an instant, a warm current far denser than before erupted from his sternum, washing through his entire body.
It wasn't violent as he'd imagined.
It was quiet—like spring rain soaking into the earth.
But deep in his soul, he heard something crack—clean and crisp.
His mind cleared. His senses sharpened until the world felt transparent.
A fundamental elevation of life itself.
And then, right as he was sinking into that strange, wondrous feeling—
He sensed something off.
Kuroha jerked his head up.
His gaze didn't lock on the moon. It pierced higher—through the atmosphere, through endless space and dimensional walls—toward some unspeakable far shore.
His sight cut through layers of fog—
And he saw a world both strange and breathtaking.
A sea as blue as glass. Endless plains, mountains, rivers.
And at the center of that scene, three slender, exquisitely beautiful figures, each playing around in her own way.
Just one glance.
Less than a second.
But Kuroha's pupils contracted violently, and every hair on his body stood on end.
"Holy—!"
He realized what he was seeing, and just before those three "beings" could turn their heads, he cut his line of sight on instinct, yanking his perception back like someone slamming a door.
…
At the same time—within that bizarre world tucked into the cracks between dimensions.
On a gently undulating sea, a long blue-haired girl lay floating on the surface, drifting lazily.
The moment Kuroha's gaze arrived, she paused mid-hum, sensing something, and looked toward a point in the empty air with quiet confusion.
Not far away, beside a golden beach—
A tan, healthy-looking red-haired girl was with another brown-haired horse girl, the latter bearing a wild-looking scar at her left eye.
"Hm?"
Almost at the exact same time.
The brown-haired horse girl, who'd been resting with eyes closed, and the red-haired girl, who'd been building a sandcastle, both froze—then snapped upright.
"See?" The tan red-haired girl spread her hands. Threads of dreamlike holy radiance flickered around her as she smiled blandly. "I told you. That power last time wasn't something we leaked."
"I know…" The brown-haired horse girl spat out the grass in her mouth and rubbed her forehead, sounding helpless. "But they reacted fast. No idea whose power it is."
She stood, dusting sand from her clothes. "I'm going down to find someone. Godolphin, Darley—coming?"
"I'm goiiing—"
With that drawn-out sing-song voice, the blue-haired girl had already "teleported" back to shore at some point, smiling gently with a motherly glow.
"I felt it too, you know. Such a warm presence."
"Obviously." The red-haired girl put one hand on her hip and chuckled. "But Byerley—don't get too excited. Maybe the little one down there really didn't mean to."
"…Honestly." The goddess named Byerley sighed, but then the corner of her mouth lifted into a faint curve. "Fine. Since we all agree…"
The next second—
All three girls turned hazy.
And like a breeze skimming across the sea's surface, their silhouettes scattered—vanishing from that strange world in an instant.
Only a string of crisp laughter remained, echoing through the void.
(End of Chapter)
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