The crack of the starting pistol still echoed through the air when fourteen different figures became arrows loosed from their strings, surging like the wind beyond the confines of the starting gates.
"They're off! This year's Satsuki Sho Classic has officially begun! First, let's see which runner will be the first to break free from the pack!"
The commentator's penetrating cry blazed through the sound system and instantly ignited the spectators' enthusiasm.
After the opening 100 meters, a white-haired girl in a fitted white race outfit—Gale Wings—flashed with light beneath her feet. Accompanied by golden motes, she charged to the front of the pack and opened a gap of nearly 1.5 lengths over the runner in second.
"Look at that! Gale Wings is the first to break away!"
But the next instant, the commentator's tone abruptly changed.
"Wait! Crimson Blaze is catching her!"
Like a mass of flame, Crimson Blaze activated [Front Runner]. Clad in a deep-red race outfit, she gritted her teeth, caught Gale Wings 200 meters from the start, and seized first place.
Before Gale Wings could even react to being passed, another gust of wind rushed up alongside her.
"It isn't over! Seiun Sky is coming through as well!"
Seiun Sky's expression was utterly serious, and the afterglow of an activated skill still lingered around her. After leaving Gale Wings behind, she took first place under Crimson Blaze's resentful stare. Light appeared beneath her feet once more, and she accelerated again before entering the turn, firmly securing the lead!
Seiun Sky now ran first, one length ahead of Crimson Blaze in second. Only half a length separated Crimson Blaze from Gale Wings in third. They were incredibly close, and both could be seen fighting desperately, with no intention of giving up.
"This is a clash of titans!"
The commentator's voice brimmed with astonishment and excitement, even cracking slightly from excessive emotion.
Indeed, the opening of this race had completely defied everyone's expectations.
According to the conventional textbook script, a Runner should establish a relatively secure advantage early on, conserve her stamina through the middle, and wait until the approach to the final turn before beginning her last burst and fighting for victory.
Reality, however, was utterly frantic.
The three front-running competitors seemed to reach an understanding almost the instant the gun fired. All three entered a Great Runner pace, holding back neither stamina nor speed. From the very beginning, they went at full power in an attempt to leave the rest of the field far behind.
Their stride frequency was astonishing!
This speed went far beyond the range of an ordinary Runner. It was the explosive tempo of a sprinter.
Gale Wings truly possessed remarkable explosive power.
Already well known in sprint races, she burst forward like a bolt of lightning. Exploiting her momentum at the start, she shot to the very front in an instant.
But Crimson Blaze—the prodigy once devastated by Silence Suzuka in the Hopeful Stakes—now ran like a maddened beast. Dark flames of revenge burned in her eyes as she recklessly consumed her own stamina. The light of her skill boiled beneath her feet, allowing her to force her way alongside Gale Wings at full acceleration.
The greatest surprise, however, was Seiun Sky.
The girl who ordinarily complained that everything was "such a pain" and always wanted to slack off now displayed a chilling degree of calm and concentration.
She did not blindly compete in absolute speed. Instead, she used route predictions as precise as a computer's, calmly following Crimson Blaze and Gale Wings while they fought each other. Before the first turn, she unleashed a chain of skills, drew level with Crimson Blaze, overtook her, and then established a decisive advantage!
"What an intense development! The lead group refuses to yield an inch!"
"But aren't they pushing too hard, too soon? This is madness! In a 2,000-meter middle-distance race, a pace like this is nothing short of suicidal!"
The commentator and analysts alike offered pessimistic assessments.
Yet out on the course, with roaring wind and the spectators' cries filling their ears, the competitors showed no intention of slowing. If anything, they squeezed even more from their potential in an effort to run faster.
Faced with this disorderly, nearly self-destructive Great Runner assault, the pack behind them was thrown into turmoil. They tried to adjust their strategies, but the race's rhythm had become far more frantic than expected. If they merely raced steadily and safely, they would have no chance whatsoever.
This was an unequal war.
It was a challenge mounted by "ordinary runners" against "prodigies."
There was no room for another choice. Only by burning themselves from the very start and surpassing their limits could they seize the slightest chance!
And so—
almost without exception, the Runners in this race had chosen the mutually destructive pace of a Great Runner. Their teams had held countless pre-race discussions and run endless simulations with data models, all of which had ultimately produced this single conclusion.
They had to use their greatest speed to open a gap over the pack behind them, even if doing so exhausted their stamina.
Even if their chance of victory was slim.
Even if they truly ran themselves empty before the end and lost any possibility of winning.
This approach might leave them one faint chance. If they did not try it, their chance would be zero.
Several Trainers in the stands watched nervously.
"Hang in there!"
The front-runners' "suicidal" pace had a profound effect. Even the calmest competitor could not simply ignore it. Most of the runners had already entered this race with the desperate resolve of an underdog and were prepared to risk everything. Once they saw how the lead group was running, many decisively followed!
Iron Will clung to the back of the lead group. Relying on astonishing strength and perseverance, she forcibly secured fourth place at high speed. Only two lengths separated her from Gale Wings in third. Staying that close to Runners using a Great Runner strategy showed just how desperately she was pushing. In terms of race rhythm, it was fair to call it a way of throwing her own plans into disarray—but did the runners behind her dare ignore it? Did they dare not respond?
Clearly, no one in the race could disregard that pressure.
Watching the runners ahead open such a large gap created immense psychological strain. Before the race had even begun, Special Week and Grass Wonder's presence had already pushed them close to despair. They could hardly analyze the situation calmly now. Under the influence of that "madness," no competitor could remain perfectly focused and composed. Just as expected, the runners behind them chose to follow as well!
Royal Glory and Sea of Blue Skies occupied fifth and sixth.
Royal Glory's long golden hair whipped wildly in the wind. Like a knight who refused to bow even in the face of certain doom, her eyes blazed with unyielding fighting spirit. She stared at Iron Will ahead, searching for an opening through which to pass. Only half a length separated them. By this point, she had completely stopped thinking and wanted nothing more than to reach the front as quickly as possible, display her full ability, and prove herself. Put simply, she had become utterly carried away!
Sea of Blue Skies appeared comparatively calmer, her mind operating at high speed. She calculated the lead group's rate of deceleration, trying to find a line through the chaos that would carry her around the turn at the lowest possible energy cost. But she was plainly less composed than usual. The moment her mind settled, she involuntarily recalled the Hopeful Stakes—Silence Suzuka's dominant runaway lead and the monstrous Special Week who surpassed all common sense!
Knowing Special Week was directly behind her made calm impossible. Her mentality had become that of a fleeing Runner: all she wanted was to escape that monster's gaze as quickly as she could.
Next came Dance of Phantom Mist and King Halo.
The two were relatively far back.
Because Dance of Phantom Mist had never faced Special Week directly, she retained a measure of reason and had not become as frantic as the runners ahead. Even so, their madness inevitably pulled her into a faster rhythm than usual. She calmly controlled King Halo behind her, denying King Halo any room to overtake and holding firmly to the more advantageous position.
King Halo looked rather disheveled.
Although she did everything she could to preserve her elegance, her body's instinctive reactions betrayed her. Her legs trembled faintly, and her breathing began to lose its rhythm. She watched the figures sprinting madly ahead, her heart filled with frustration, yet she had no choice but to admit that a genuine gulf existed between them.
Farther back
ran Special Week, currently in ninth place.
Like a beast lying in wait deep in the grass, she quietly awaited the moment to strike.
She had not activated a single skill. She merely followed the main pack at something close to a leisurely stroll.
Only she knew that her senses were operating at full capacity.
She could hear every current of wind ahead and feel each blade of grass trembling beneath her feet. She was taking in the race's overall rhythm, waiting for the "point" that would allow her to erupt in an instant.
And though her current posture resembled a stroll, her overwhelming stats allowed her to follow the pace ahead with ease. The runners at the front had driven the race's overall tempo into complete madness, yet their effect on Special Week was almost negligible.
The rear group occupied a peculiar formation, like a compressed spring. Emerald Wind and Scattered Stars ran at its front.
Emerald Wind moved like a refreshing spring breeze, displaying astonishing cornering technique on the very first turn. She tilted her body to an extraordinary limit and used centrifugal force to fling herself toward the inside line—a special technique she had honed on the regional circuit, earning her the title "Queen of the Turns."
Scattered Stars maintained her distinctive rhythm. She seemed to run with her eyes closed, every footfall answering a melody only she could hear. Her running was beautiful and uncanny, as though she were singing her own song of victory upon the course.
Both were technical runners of considerable talent. If not for their naturally low stats, they might even have become monsters in their own right. Now their creative styles kept Grass Wonder completely boxed in while they clung tightly to Special Week ahead.
Grass Wonder was trapped between them.
Irritation showed in her eyes.
She had not expected to be targeted before Special Week had even made her move.
Even so, she suppressed the urge to activate a skill.
She knew it was not yet time.
She had to wait for the opportunity that would let her surpass everything in a single instant.
Her attention remained locked firmly on Special Week ahead.
She was like a celebrated blade confined to its sheath: sharp, yet forced to endure darkness for the moment.
Behind her came Phoenix Wing.
She moved like a mountain of ice, coldly surveying the turmoil ahead. Her expression was aloof and proud, and she seemed to maintain a deliberate distance from the runners around her.
Yet complicated emotions occasionally flickered through her eyes.
There lingered the shadow of a past defeat, as well as her determination to prove herself.
She was waiting.
Waiting for the final straight, for the instant when snow and ice would melt and all creation would return to life.
Last of all was Golden Dawn, racing as a Chaser.
She was like a sun gathering strength beneath the horizon. Though she temporarily trailed the field, she remained filled with hope.
Her stride was long, her rhythm steady, and her gaze held the fearless energy of an inexperienced youngster. She was in no hurry, because she knew her true battlefield lay in the final 600 meters.
"Special Week is at the very back of the Leader group! She doesn't appear to be in any hurry!"
"Grass Wonder is boxed into the middle of the Betweener group, and she appears somewhat anxious!"
"The three Runners—Seiun Sky, Crimson Blaze, and Gale Wings—are moving far too quickly! They've already opened a gap over the pack behind them! As they enter the middle phase, the distance from first to last has reached an astonishing ten lengths!"
The commentator's voice brimmed with tension and excitement, rising almost to a roar.
Indeed, the speed of the three Runners had far exceeded every expectation.
They were three bolts of lightning out of control.
Special Week, meanwhile, was a beast lying in wait, silently waiting for the commotion to subside.
Grass Wonder was an assassin concealed in the shadows.
This race was destined to be neither ordinary nor calm!
Because this was the Satsuki Sho.
It was a proving ground for prodigies, a threshold on the road to legend!
It was a unique challenge and opportunity that came only once in their lives.
And at this moment, the storm had only just begun.
The cries of tens of thousands in the stands merged into an almost visible wave of sound, while the live comments scrolling across the internet became the background noise of this grand spectacle.
No one knew what would happen next.
...
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