After making her promise with Treve, her condition shot back up at an almost absurd speed.
No, she was even stronger than she had been at her peak last year. That gloomy slump from before might as well have been a bad joke. Every movement she made grew sharper, cleaner, more dazzling.
Even when she followed her trainer's orders and deliberately held herself back, that terrifying edge still leaked through.
When Montjeu saw Treve like that, she went out of her way to buy Chiya a huge gift. He tried to refuse, but she shoved it onto him anyway, and in the end, he had no choice but to accept.
Still, seeing Treve recover left him with mixed feelings.
Now that her mental block had been cleared, Treve's strength was rising fast. She improved every single day, which meant Shirayuki's chances of beating her were only getting worse.
That would not do.
Shirayuki needed to tighten up her own training too. Otherwise, if she lost, Treve would keep her in Paris as a personal body pillow, clinging to her day and night.
And Shirayuki knew exactly what that little foreign uma musume was like once she got worked up. Treve was a proper squeeze-you-dry princess. The moment she got excited, she would grind and cling and refuse to stop. At this rate, Shirayuki might genuinely get worn down to death.
Especially now, when Shirayuki had no interest in girls. Treve's forceful flirting would only leave her exhausted in body and soul.
Worse yet, if she was stuck in Paris, she would be separated from Chiya.
Shirayuki absolutely could not endure that.
This race was a wager with her own body on the line.
She had no way out anymore.
She would bring that little foreign uma musume back to Japan and turn her into her body pillow.
Not the other way around.
But if they wanted to increase Shirayuki's odds of winning, then aside from studying the opponent and finding a way to break through them, there was one more thing they needed.
Fujiwara Chiya turned his gaze toward Orfevre, who had stopped beside him after finishing her run.
"Hm? What is it, Trainer? Why are you staring at me like that?"
Orfevre wiped away her sweat. When she noticed his eyes on her thighs, the corners of her lips curled up.
"Oh? Don't tell me you want me, Trainer? And right after training, too? Were you planning to use the sweat from the soles of my feet as lubricant?"
"What kind of leap is that?! I never said anything like that!"
"Really? Last time, you made the soles of my feet so hot I thought magma had spilled all over them."
"I was wrong, Orfevre. Please stop talking…"
Seeing Chiya look like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die, Orfevre smiled in deep satisfaction.
This was exactly the face she wanted to see!
Sure, in bed, she was the small fry. But afterward, Trainer became the small fry. As long as she brought that incident up and teased him a little, his dignity as a trainer shattered instantly.
Of course, Orfevre was not actually going to make things difficult for her man on purpose. After messing with him for a bit, she finally said,
"All right, then. Trainer, you had something to say, did you not?"
"I do."
"Then say it. As if I would refuse you. Or could it be that you really want me to help you with my feet again? If you like it that much, I do not mind. I did buy some 10D ones recently…"
"No. It's not about that."
Fujiwara Chiya covered his face.
Why was it that when other trainers called over their uma musume, they talked about training, but whenever he called one over, she immediately opened with her interests in that direction?
His whole genre was way more colorful than everyone else's!
"I'm talking about races."
"Races?"
Orfevre folded her arms.
"What problem could there be with races?"
"Orfevre, when you race, you're always impatient. And extremely headstrong."
"Trainer… are you scolding me?"
"No. I'm just describing your racing style. Back in Japan, you could run however you wanted because you were strong. Your physical ability surpassed everyone else by too much. Even when you ran as a Front Runner, very few uma musume could catch up to you. That's why I almost never arranged any special tactics for you."
Orfevre listened in silence.
"But things are different here. There are a lot of powerful uma musume on this side. If you keep racing the way you always have, your rhythm could easily get thrown off. I'll be blunt, Orfevre. You don't have enough race experience, and the races you're about to enter are far too difficult. That's why I want you to listen to me and run the way I teach you."
"Oh? More specifically?"
"Watch your opponents' positions and make decisions based on that. In other words, tactics."
Ever since Orfevre had started racing, she had basically been charging straight through everything.
Her strength was so overwhelming that brute force alone was enough to break through the field. Because of that, Fujiwara Chiya had let her do as she pleased and rarely interfered.
But here, if Orfevre kept relying on brute force, she could easily lose.
Every uma musume entering these races was absurdly strong. Fujiwara Chiya needed to teach her how to use tactical running.
Tactics were not something to underestimate.
Back when Shirayuki's body had still been underdeveloped, she had relied on her extraordinary experience to steadily widen her advantage and claim victory. Experience was an extremely important weapon for an uma musume.
After listening to Fujiwara Chiya, Orfevre pinched her chin and narrowed her eyes.
"I am the ruler of the turf. Conquering all with absolute power is my way of running. Now you tell me to abandon power and pursue technique? I will not agree."
"I'm not telling you to abandon power. I'm telling you to rein it in a little."
"Crushing all things beneath my feet is my path! On that point, I will never compromise! What Trainer must do is not change my way of running, but train me until I have enough strength to conquer everything!"
"I am working toward that, but we have less than three months. Technique and awareness can give you a huge boost right now."
"There is no need for Trainer to worry about that. You only need to polish my body. Leave the race itself to me."
Seeing the bitter look on Fujiwara Chiya's face, Orfevre continued,
"Do not make that face, Trainer. You must believe in my strength. So what if these foreign uma musume are exceptional? I will still stand above them all."
"How about this, Orfevre? Try paying attention to your opponents and following my instructions. Tonight, I'll take you out for barbecue. How does that sound?"
"Trainer really is troublesome. Stubborn, too. Hmph… fine. I will give it a try."
Then she paused.
"But I do not need barbecue. I do not particularly like that sort of thing anyway. After training ends, give me a full-body massage instead. Carefully. Thoroughly. Every single muscle."
"Sure, sure. I guarantee I'll make you feel so good you won't know what hit you."
"Wha—Trainer, you lecher! Are you trying to make me embarrass myself again?"
"I never said that!"
Orfevre thumped his chest with her fists, cheeks puffed out. Then she raised a hand and pinched Fujiwara Chiya's face.
Seeing his ridiculous expression, Orfevre burst into laughter.
"Only you would dare order me around so recklessly. If it were anyone else, they would have disappeared from before my eyes long ago."
With that, Orfevre turned and returned to the training field.
On Shirayuki's side, she ran over to act as her training partner.
This was probably the advantage of having a close relationship.
If Fujiwara Chiya and Orfevre were nothing more than a trainer and his uma musume, there was no way she would have agreed to his arrangement. With her willful personality, she would have stubbornly stuck to her own running style and ignored her trainer's instructions completely.
At least Fujiwara Chiya had managed to clear this hurdle.
Now, only Gold Ship remained.