The Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.
It was a stage accessible only to the finest Umamusume in the world, a glorious hall that countless active racers dreamed of reaching at least once in their lives.
And this year's Arc was more significant than ever.
Two Umamusume, each capable of dominating any of the past several dozen generations, had been born into the same era.
The race had even drawn the attention of every legendary Umamusume.
There was no doubt about it.
This was the ultimate race, one that gathered the glory of the entire world in a single place.
...
At that moment, near the exit of the competitors' tunnel, more than a dozen solemn-faced girls in racing uniforms stood on either side of the passage.
They all stared warily in the same direction, taking deep breaths over and over as they tried to ease the overwhelming tension in their hearts.
At the center of the group stood a dark-skinned, short-haired girl with a valiant air. One hand rested on her hip as she waited with perfect nonchalance.
She was not making any unnecessary movements.
Even so, the surrounding Umamusume instinctively kept their distance, leaving a wide-open space around her.
That was because the French girl was currently surrounded by an oppressively terrifying aura.
As the start of the race drew closer, that aura only grew denser, almost as though it were about to solidify and suffocate everyone around her.
Suave Dancer stared straight ahead without expression, something seemingly brewing within her eyes.
Then, in the next instant, she sensed something.
The stagnant atmosphere shattered.
A smile appeared on the girl's face as she turned her head slightly, only to freeze mid-motion.
A familiar lavender-haired figure dressed in white was slowly approaching.
There was not the slightest trace of an intimidating presence around her. She appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary, harmless girl as she walked directly to Suave Dancer's side and took her place at the front.
McQueen saw Suave Dancer staring blankly at her and smiled faintly.
"What is it, Suave?"
"McQueen... you..."
Suave Dancer instinctively tried to say something, but after a brief silence, she swallowed her words and shook her head.
"Never mind. It's nothing."
"I see..."
McQueen did not press the issue. She turned toward the course and asked softly, "Are you ready?"
"Of course!"
"I'm in the best condition I've ever been in!"
Suave Dancer responded immediately. Grinning, she bent one arm and proudly flexed her muscles.
"It's been raining nonstop for the past few days, so my home course has become even more suited to me! You'd better watch yourself!"
"That truly is wonderful."
McQueen showed no fear whatsoever. She merely laughed softly and looked ahead.
A moment later, she spoke.
"You'd better keep up with me!"
Suave Dancer froze before snorting dismissively.
"What do you mean, keep up with you? I'm going to surpass you!"
McQueen smiled and gave a slight nod. She offered no further reply, instead closing her eyes to rest and conserve her strength.
...Something about McQueen feels different.
Suave Dancer paused as that thought crossed her mind. Yet only a few seconds later, an unrestrained smile returned to her face.
Still, it looks like she's changed for the better!
In that case...
Let's carve our names into the very summit of history!
...
"At last, the moment has arrived! The world-renowned Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe!"
The announcer's passionate voice echoed above the racecourse.
"Today, the greatest racers from across the globe have gathered here to compete for the one and only Arc crown!"
"Will the pure-white light from the Far East conclude her brilliant career with a sixteenth consecutive victory?"
"Or will another challenger overcome the champion's radiance and seize victory for herself?"
"I'm sure none of you can wait any longer!"
"OOOOOOOOH!"
Just a few words of pre-race excitement sent the atmosphere inside ParisLongchamp Racecourse soaring to an unprecedented peak.
The spectators' fervent cheers boiled like a raging tide, causing even the stadium itself to tremble!
"Then let us welcome the competing Umamusume onto the course!"
One competitor after another began making their entrance in an orderly procession as the announcer introduced them.
...
Amid the announcements and the clamor filling the stadium, Kuroha pushed open the door to the top-floor viewing box.
Aside from the training teams representing each country's entrants, the box was occupied by dozens of breathtakingly beautiful legendary Umamusume from across the world.
"Trainer!"
The girls from Team Chasing Light immediately rushed over when they saw him, surrounding Kuroha and guiding him toward the seat they had reserved.
"Careful, Teio..."
Kuroha caught the petite figure that threw herself at him, then exasperatedly tapped Teio on the head.
"Hehe!"
Teio rubbed her face vigorously against her trainer's chest, then glanced around at her seniors, who were so envious that they nearly ground their teeth together.
She suddenly felt rather smug about being the youngest and getting to flaunt her special treatment in front of them.
Behind the others, however, the even younger Bourbon and Rice exchanged thoughtful looks.
"Bourbon, were we a little too slow?"
Rice tilted her head and tugged at her classmate's hand as she watched the scene before them.
The cybernetic filly froze briefly. Recovering from the strange sensation in her heart, she turned toward Rice.
"Too slow? Unable to comprehend."
"My database contains no protocol stating that I should leap into Master's arms at a time like this."
"..."
Rice tilted her head. For reasons even she could not explain, she chose not to tell Bourbon what the gesture meant.
"Oh?"
Elsewhere in the viewing box, a tall and voluptuous Umamusume with fiery-red hair raised an eyebrow when she saw the young man surrounded by Team Chasing Light.
"That must be Trainer Kuroha."
"Sunday Silence is beside him as well. It looks like she joined his team."
Celebris scratched her head while looking at the familiar black-haired girl.
She truly could not understand it.
Her junior had retired and gone abroad to rest and travel, yet after only a few months apart, she had somehow switched teams.
What was even the point of changing teams after retirement?
"It's fine. Whatever questions you have can wait until the race is over."
Secretariat casually waved a hand and smiled.
"Watching the race is more important right now."
She pointed toward the course below.
"Look, they're coming out!"
As soon as Secretariat finished speaking, the racecourse, already roaring after the entrance of fourteen competitors, erupted with even greater force at the announcer's next words.
"The next Umamusume to enter the course..."
"She is the pride of France, the champion who defeated Europe's finest but suffered a bitter loss to Ireland's conqueror!"
"Now, on the course she knows best, let her show us those peerless, flawless strides once again!"
"The second favorite, Suave Dancer!"
(End of Chapter)
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