Even Longjing was starting to feel uncertain. The race had entered its final stretch—if she didn't accelerate now, was she planning to let her opponents cross the finish line first?
"She's cleared the final curve and entered the 200-meter straightaway. The current leader is still King Halo, with Lightning Box trailing three lengths behind."
"Unless something unexpected happens, this race is King Halo's to win. The only question is whether Lightning Box can close the gap."
To the crowd, it seemed over. After all, this was just a debut race—how often did dramatic reversals happen in a newcomer's first outing? Most expected a clean win from a talented, well-bred Uma Musume.
But—
Peach Waves smirked.
"We agreed, didn't we? Time to send a whole wave."
Her hair whipped behind her like a cresting tide, shimmering under the stadium lights.
As she exited the final corner, she pressed down hard with her feet.
The turf dented beneath her explosive force. A gust of wind spiraled outward.
Whoosh!
In an instant, she veered to the outermost lane and surged forward with breathtaking speed. In the blink of an eye, she overtook two racers, her acceleration climbing like a rocket launch.
The stadium gasped.
"Princess is accelerating! She's charging forward at a speed visible to the naked eye!"
Okino's jaw dropped. The candy in his mouth slipped out and hit the ground.
"She's… teleporting?!"
From the stands, her movement looked unreal—like she was blinking forward, frame by frame, past the others.
Thud-thud.
Lightning Box turned her head slightly, eyes wide.
"When did she—?!"
But before she could react, Princess had already passed her, closing in on King Halo.
"She's in second! Princess is now less than a length behind King Halo!"
Akasaka stood from her seat, voice rising with excitement.
"Unbelievable! What a debut! This masked newcomer is unleashing a monstrous final kick!"
"Her form—those legs—such explosive power!"
Spectators murmured in awe. But Okino only smiled, shaking his head.
"It's not talent," he whispered. "It's the result of relentless training."
He remembered the countless days he'd seen Peach Waves collapse on the ground, too exhausted to move. And yet, every morning, she rose again—stronger, fiercer, unshaken.
On the track, King Halo heard the commentator's voice and faltered.
"What?! Someone's catching up?"
A gust of wind brushed past her cheek.
She turned—and saw the figure beside her.
"Impossible! I'm King Halo! How could I lose to a debuting nobody?!"
She tried to push harder, willing her legs to move faster.
But Peach Waves—Princess—glided past her with ease, a serene smile on her face.
Her ice-crystal eyes sparkled with determination, and for a moment, Halo was stunned by the sheer brilliance of her presence.
And then—she was gone.
Princess crossed the finish line, a full length ahead.
"She did it! Princess takes first place!"
"What a race! That final 200-meter burst was nothing short of spectacular!"
Akasaka's voice rang out, breathless with excitement.
Peach Waves slowed to a stop, turned to face the crowd, and lifted the hem of her virtual skirt in a graceful, noble curtsy.
Her elegant smile captivated the audience—and King Halo, who stood frozen in second place, still catching her breath.
One by one, the other six Uma Musume crossed the finish line. Some bent over, panting. Others collapsed to the turf. But all of them stared at Princess, their eyes wide with awe.
A faint fragrance lingered in the air, calming their frustration and softening the sting of defeat.
Even King Halo, who had been fuming moments ago, felt her anger melt away.
"That scent…"
She frowned, puzzled—then the roar of the crowd snapped her out of it.
"I want to race you again, Princess. You were… beautiful out there."
Peach Waves steadied her breathing, preparing to leave the track—when King Halo approached.
Still panting, her expression was serious. Peach Waves instinctively took a step back.
Is she going to fight me?
But Halo stopped just short, eyes locked with hers.
After a long pause, she pointed at Peach Waves.
"This time, I lost. I acknowledge your strength. Princess—next time we meet on the track, I'll beat you."
Peach Waves exhaled in relief.
Whew. She's not going to punch me.
She smiled and crossed her arms, tilting her head.
"Your running was beautiful, Radiance-san. I look forward to racing you again—and seeing you surpass me."
Her voice was warm, her tone gentle. Halo blinked, caught off guard.
She had expected arrogance. Dismissiveness. Not… kindness.
Her cheeks flushed.
"Hmph. Just so you know."
She hesitated.
"By the way… I've never seen you at training. Are you from Tracen?"
Peach Waves shook her head.
"No. I wasn't accepted. My talent and qualifications weren't enough."
Halo's eyes widened.
"You weren't… accepted?"
She was speechless. This girl—this powerhouse—wasn't even from Tracen?
She beat me… without the resources, the coaching, the pedigree?
She thought of her own elite training, her natural gifts—and how they hadn't been enough.
"I… I'm sorry."
She bowed slightly.
Peach Waves blinked.
"Hey, no need to apologize. You ran beautifully. I just happened to win this time."
"Losing is losing. No need to sugarcoat it."
Halo hesitated again.
"Can we… be friends?"
It was the first time the proud, self-assured Halo had ever asked someone that.
Peach Waves beamed.
"Of course! I'd love to be friends with someone as cool as you, Halo-san."
The compliment made Halo's heart flutter.
In the stands, Silent Suzuka watched the exchange, her expression unreadable.
She turned away, her brows slightly furrowed, and walked off without a word.