"And now, making her entrance—the Uma Musume who carries the glory of the golden family and the hopes of Japanese horse racing! Can this Golden Tyrant wash away the disgrace of the Satsuki Sho with a victory and radiant glory on today's track?!"
"First in popularity! Number Five: Orfevre!"
The voice of announcer Sugimoto Kentaro echoed through every corner of Tokyo Racecourse via the loudspeakers. As he poured his energy into the commentary, the crowd's excitement surged higher and higher.
Then, as that golden figure stepped out from the tunnel, the spectators could no longer contain their cheers. It was like a volcano erupting—a wave of roaring enthusiasm swept through the stands.
Orfevre's black, red, and gold racing silks seemed to shine even brighter under the rain, and the six-pointed star crown on her head refracted a dazzling light.
Even under the shadow of her narrow defeat in the Satsuki Sho, this tyrant still radiated an overwhelming, suffocating pressure.
Many felt that the gap between her and Dream Weaver in that race had been razor-thin. If not for that strange loss of speed in the final stretch, the outcome of the Satsuki Sho might have been different.
And now, on the stage of the Japanese Derby, a fully serious Orfevre would seize the glory of victory with her peerless finishing kick.
Amid the cheers, another Uma Musume on the track turned her gaze toward Orfevre.
She had long red hair, tied into two tails with ribbons at the back, and her emerald green eyes were fixed intently on Orfevre's figure.
Unconsciously, her hands clenched the frilly, ballet-inspired racing silks she wore.
As one of Tracen Academy's rising stars of the year, Win Variation had been seen as the hope to break the elite families' monopoly over G1 races since the day she enrolled.
She had always pushed herself with that in mind. But as Orfevre's performances grew more and more dominant, people gradually stopped bringing it up.
Gazing at that radiant figure, still brilliant even through the heavy rain, Win Variation unconsciously pressed her lips together.
Every shining star is outshone by the sun—and Orfevre was exactly that kind of sun, lighting up an entire generation.
Orfevre was hailed as the future of Japanese horse racing, carrying expectations Win Variation could scarcely imagine.
"So dazzling…"
Just as she murmured those words, the announcer's introduction suddenly reached her ears.
"As if by fate, the Uma Musume following right after Orfevre is—"
Win Variation's horse ears twitched. Unlike the previous introduction, this voice coming from outside the track was a woman's.
"Tearing through the night sky dominated by the elite families like a crimson harbinger of chaos—the brave soul who fought her way up from Kasamatsu! You've shown us that this era doesn't belong to just one ruler!"
"Second in popularity! Number Six: Dream Weaver!"
"Let us witness your brilliance once again!"
As her passionate words faded, another tsunami of cheers erupted from the audience, every bit as powerful and intense as those for the Golden Tyrant Orfevre.
Hearing that name, an image immediately surfaced in Win Variation's mind.
That Uma Musume who came from the local circuits to the central league had almost single-handedly fulfilled a years-long ambition of Tracen Academy—even dragging the highly-touted Golden Tyrant off her throne.
Win Variation turned toward the tunnel entrance. A deep, blood-like red cut through the curtain of rain and entered her field of vision.
It felt so sharp that Win Variation instinctively averted her eyes.
Her heart began to pound wildly for no reason, and a prickling sense of danger ran through her body.
Crimson… Harbinger?
Now she finally understood why Dream Weaver was called a harbinger.
Even from that brief glimpse, Dream Weaver's image was burned into Win Variation's mind.
Her sailor-style uniform, dark as an abyss, looked like congealed, dried blood, giving off a bone-chilling cold. And over it, a crimson cape flowed like freshly spilt, scorching blood.
New blood covering old—it was like an endless battlefield, reeking of blood and radiating a terrifying aura of violence. The sounds of slaughter and combat seemed to transform into the hum of blades, echoing across the racetrack.
Win Variation looked down at her own red-and-white racing silks. She had chosen red because she liked apples; even her silks carried a faint, fruity sweetness.
But though both were red, Dream Weaver's red was different.
She had lived through stories Win Variation had never experienced. The will she had honed on the track was unmatched. Bearing the blood of rivals and her own, Dream Weaver must have carried a weight unimaginable to most.
"What has she been through…"
Raindrops caught on Win Variation's eyelashes. For some reason, it reminded her of something her father once said.
The prima on stage captures the attention of the entire audience. The one who seizes the most brilliance becomes the Top Star.
But to claim that beautiful, radiant position, one person alone isn't enough. There must also be a rival—only through their repeated, limit testing clashes can the most dazzling light be born.
She lifted her head. The track in the rain seemed split in two: one half dominated by the dazzling Golden Tyrant, the other by the soul-shaking, fierce crimson harbinger.
Under the torrential rain, the entire venue seemed to tremble under the terrifying presence of those two. Win Variation glanced around and noticed that every other Uma Musume looked utterly overwhelmed.
As the crowd's fervent cheers rang in her ears, the two commentators broke into a heated debate over whether Orfevre or Dream Weaver would take the crown. All this noise from beyond the track left Win Variation feeling somewhat dazed.
People outside the track could never truly understand what happened on it—and yet, even they could sense that the stage now belonged entirely to those two.
Win Variation looked down at her own hands.
Why didn't she have that kind of presence? Why didn't she possess that kind of power?
Was her desire to win, to claim victory, not strong enough? Or was her competitive spirit not fierce enough?
Shaking her head in confusion, Win Variation had a vague feeling that she, too, had once touched upon whatever it was that made Dream Weaver and Orfevre so powerful.
But somehow… she had lost it.
"Eclipse First, The Rest Nowhere."
Win Variation murmured Tracen's motto under her breath in the rain. In that moment, she felt she understood something she hadn't before.
--+--
T/N: While I am an inexperienced Translator, I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 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.