"I have to burn the backliners' stamina hard on this stretch to build enough margin for the endgame."
The blue-haired girl stared quietly at Free Run just ahead.
By now the pacesetter was forced near exhaustion, breathing like a bellows.
Once they stepped into the final turn, she'd cease to be a threat.
At this moment, the pace of the front and mid packs was completely within her grasp.
The Tenno Sho (Spring) course is 3200 meters.
They'd already chewed through over 2300—basically a full Medium-distance race.
And yet nearly a thousand meters still remained.
Worse for everyone else, the speed she'd induced the field to maintain wasn't long-distance pace at all.
To cover 2300 at this speed and then climb through Turn Three…
A deep glint flashed in Super Creek's eyes.
"From here on—this is my home ground."
Dadadada—!
Fourteen horse girls thundered toward the steep rise before the third corner.
Up front, Free Run's hoofbeats had grown ragged; her breathing came harsh and heavy.
In mid-pack, lungs began to fray—tiny hiccups in rhythm, the telltale corrosion of a pace ratcheted up against their will.
Only Super Creek stayed like a stone set into the course—stable, precise, efficient.
Every step looked pre-computed to the millimeter, landing on the most energy-saving points as she skimmed the inner rail.
Her composure stabbed against the tension gathering around her.
Behind, Inari One slipped into what Kuroha loved to call her "mystery board."
She merely lowered her body a shade to cut wind drag—
a simple detail Kuroha had drummed into her with countless bonks in training until it lived in her bones.
Power and technique flowed in Inari like instinct.
Her leg muscles were drawn like fully bent bowstrings, hoarding a terrifying force, aching to be loosed.
Just then, a faint yet real red glow crept over Inari again.
"So slow?"
A hiss like a viper popped in her ear.
A crushing impatience fell over her.
"Beat it."
Red tracer-light flared; Inari growled under her breath and snapped her gaze to a specific spot ahead—
—Through Odina.
The green-haired horse girl was buried in the lower-mid group, position neither good nor bad, seemingly unshaken by the warped tempo—
still wearing that studied low-profile air.
But Inari could feel it: a thin, sticky, unpleasant "gaze" brushing across her from time to time.
"Found you at last, you sneaking little bug."
Savage heat rolled in her chest—then she hammered it down with will.
Not yet.
Endure.
Now is for patience, for storing, for compressing every spark of rage and strength into a single instant—
and detonating in the final drive.
"Come on then—schemes, calculations—bring as many as you like."
"Let's see what weighs more—your plotting, or my pure, returning brute force."
The red in Inari's pupils was nearly solid.
The endgame drew closer; she could hear the moment of decision whispering at her ear.
"Again… the same…"
Through Odina bit her lip and forced her stride up Yodo-zaka.
Panting now, she could still sense the pace was wrong, even after 2300 meters—
could still think, though the cost was a slide from mid pack into lower-mid.
What she hadn't expected was that Inari One would look untouched.
Her mental attacks… had done nothing.
And that gaze—like the abyss itself—sent a stab of dread through Odina.
It wasn't only anger in those eyes, but a pressure of raw power, like being targeted by a primordial beast.
She hunched her neck on reflex, trying to slip out of that sightline, unease boiling up.
"No… I can't give in."
She forced calm. The slope and the long grind had her gulping air, but her eyes hardened.
No matter what—I have to win!
"The pack has cleared the third corner and is driving toward the final turn!" the announcer's bark rode the wind.
"First is still Free Run—was 3200 just too much? She's struggling to maintain speed now!"
"Second, Super Creek—no surprise, the Kikuka Sho champion still looks full of run."
"Third is…"
"Twelfth is Inari One—lying in wait? No intent to move up yet."
Dadadada—!
Hooves roared like thunder.
Fourteen girls' power clawed up the emerald turf that had carried so many tears and triumphs, shredding it to confetti behind them.
The final turn loomed close.
But by now, a cold wall of reality stood before them all.
Stamina bottoms out.
Three thousand two hundred meters, plus a midrace pace-trap sprung by Super Creek—
like a giant meat grinder chewing through their reserves.
The less-gifted had begun to stall, eyes glassing over.
Even with arms pumping for dear life, the fatigue seeping up from the bone threatened to swallow them whole.
Through Odina clenched her teeth. Sweat beaded and ran down her temples, soaking her bangs.
Even at the edge, she clung on through sheer will.
Her spot wasn't ideal, but the little stamina she'd saved in the opening and mid phases had bought her one last chance to swing.
I won't be a stepping stone anymore.
I'll shine like Tamamo Cross and Oguri Cap—across the world!
The Tenno Sho (Spring)… this is my only shot!
As the field poured like a flood toward the mouth of the final bend,
Through Odina slid—quiet as a shadow—from the jammed inner to the open outside.
Now!
She drew a breath, rallied the last of her strength, and in the instant she prepared to launch—
—a formless, soul-freezing pressure slammed in from behind without warning.
It felt like the world was opening a bloody maw at her back to devour her whole.
Frost shot from tailbone to crown—every hair stood on end.
And then—
BOOM!!!
A thunder-dull detonation burst at her ear.
Before she could react, a red figure—godlike, devil-bright—streamed past her hip, wrapped in a suffocating, near-tangible aura.
All she truly saw was a beast's eye, cutting sideways—cold.
"Out of the way, little bug."
"Inari-sama is coming through!!"
(End of Chapter)
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