Chapter 133: From the Land Where Blue Sprouts Burn

At long last—or perhaps right on schedule—the long-awaited decisive battle between Teio and Lady McQueen had arrived: the day of the Tenno Sho (Spring).

The stage was Kyoto Racecourse, the same venue as last year’s Kikuka Sho. A 3,200-meter right-handed outer course.

For those of us based at Tracen Academy in Fuchu, it meant traveling far from home for this showdown.

Fortunately, the race would begin around midday—just when you start to feel a little hungry—so we runners were able to make our way to the track at a relatively relaxed pace.

…Relaxed for us, anyway. For Trainer-san and Sub-Trainer-san, who had to handle the long drive, it was probably exhausting.

Ayumu-san. Masa-san. Thank you, truly, as always.

If we could use planes or trains, we could spare them the trouble… but Uma Musume are idols, too. A G1 race is like a dome concert for idols. If we showed up by train, it would turn into a frenzy.

Worse, if an accident happened while we were aboard, the weight of that responsibility would be unimaginable.

For that reason, racing Uma Musume are, in principle, transported by car—driven by their trainers.

Large teams apparently rent dedicated buses, but that’s beside the point.

That morning, after dragging myself out of bed at dawn, I arrived at Kyoto Racecourse following roughly six hours in the car Masa-san was driving.

We headed straight into the racecourse grounds and quickly slipped into the waiting room.

Not exactly how you’d expect the star of the show to act—sneaking around—but we couldn’t risk running into fans before the race.

Since we’d left extra early just in case, there was still plenty of time before the main event. After stretching out the stiffness from the long ride, I began our final meeting.

"So, how’s your condition, Wilm?"

"Mmm… yeah, not bad. I’m still a bit stiff, but well within acceptable range. I’ll be at full strength by race time. No hunger, no discomfort, no fatigue. Nothing feels off. Condition’s good. How do I look from your side, Ayumu-san?"

"From here? You look in top form. Good. We’re set."

"Of course! Let’s have a fun race, like always!"

I flashed Ayumu-san a smile…

…but he remained serious, raising a single finger.

"Same reminder as always. Be careful of accidents. If you feel even the slightest odd sensation in your legs, don’t push it. And don’t force a win—win as if it’s only natural. …Understood?"

"Yes… I’m sorry about last time…"

That struck home. I shrank a little despite myself.

The Osaka Hai had worried him badly. I could never pull something like that again—not for the fans, and not for Ayumu-san.

This time, I wouldn’t overextend. I’d stay within my limits—no exceeding my specs—and win as if it were only natural.

That was Hoshino Wilm’s new race policy.

I mean, I’m a reincarnated, cheat-powered Uma Musume, right? I should be able to win easily without pushing myself at all…

…Which makes Nature, Teio, and McQueen-san kind of ridiculous, doesn’t it? How are they keeping up with someone who has cheat buffs and still works this hard? Is the current Twinkle Series a little broken or something?

Well… from my perspective, a little broken works just fine.

The more girls who can chase me down, the more fun the race becomes.

"…Good. That grin suits you better than nerves. Enjoy the race without regret—and then go win."

"Yes!"

I answered with a full smile, and Ayumu-san gently patted my head.

Hehe… all right. Ayumu-san-ium replenished.

Let’s win this—Tenno Sho.

---

Over the next few hours, I adjusted my condition and chatted idly with Ayumu-san and the others.

When a URA staff member called for us, I parted from the group heading to the stands and made my way to the paddock.

There, I walked in circles to keep my legs loose while waiting for my turn. When it came, I made my appeal.

Each Uma Musume has her own style. Mine is the arms-crossed, feet-planted stance Ayumu-san and I came up with.

The mantle gimmick from my first winning outfit is gone now, but out of habit I flicked the brooch at my chest before casually scanning the area.

That’s when I spotted a chestnut-haired girl staring at me with an intensity I recognized.

Oh? She even came all the way to the racecourse? What a passionate fan. That makes me happy.

So I gave her a subtle wink before striking my pose again.

I lifted my chin, arranged a confident smile, and stood proudly as the reigning champion. Judging by the impressed murmurs—and more than a few high-pitched squeals—the fan service was a success.

Once the paddock appeal ended, it was finally time to enter the main track.

At last, we stepped onto the turf of Kyoto Racecourse.

"Haaah… fuuu…"

Beneath a beautifully clear sky, the track was in perfect condition.

Standing on the stage of our decisive battle, I drew in a deep breath.

Cool, taut air filled my lungs.

Ah… this air, unique to the moments before a race.

The dreams and expectations of countless people.

The effort and trust of trainers.

The blood, sweat, and tears of Uma Musume.

All of it converging into this tense atmosphere.

It had been about a month since the last one… the air of a G1 race.

My throat went dry. My skin prickled. My heart demanded battle.

It felt as though the very soul inside my chest was trembling.

Run already. Start already. Let me surpass them already—

My beastly instincts bared themselves, eager to devour this race and the Uma Musume running in it.

Ah… I love it.

This feeling. The boiling excitement before a thrilling race.

Surely there isn’t a single Uma Musume in the world who hates this.

"Hoshino Wilm-san, you’re making quite a face."

"Oops."

I hadn’t realized my expression had slipped.

Careful. A race is competition—but it’s also entertainment. Appearances matter.

Though, to be fair, I’ve shown my battle-hungry face plenty of times already.

"Ahaha, sorry. I get worked up just thinking about the race."

"I understand the feeling. …Ever since that Arima Kinen, I too have been looking forward to the day I could run against you again."

The one who addressed me—according to Ayumu-san, the greatest threat in today’s Tenno Sho—was McQueen-san.

Her silver hair flowed behind her, serene and composed as ever. At a glance, she appeared perfectly calm before the race.

But only from a distance.

Stand close. Face her directly.

And you’d see it—

A blazing fire in her eyes. A piercing gaze that said more clearly than words: I will devour you.

Ah. The exact same look I’d had moments ago.

Heh… McQueen-san isn’t holding back either.

From afar, fans probably see only a confident smile. In that sense, perhaps she hides it well.

Either way, I’m glad. This will be fun.

"You seem in excellent condition, McQueen-san. That’s good to see."

"Yes. I have prepared beyond perfection in order to win today’s Tenno Sho."

She turned her gaze toward the course we were about to run.

I followed her eyes.

Then, in a quiet but resolute voice, she said:

"…Since that Japan Cup, I have continued to consider how to surpass your back."

"Have you come up with a good strategy?"

"Regrettably, no. Hoshino Wilm-san, you are strong. You are not a wall so small that I could overcome you with mere tricks."

Her tone was bright—almost cheerful—despite her words.

When I looked up at her in surprise, she was already looking at me.

Straightforward. Direct. Meeting me head-on.

"However, precisely because of that, I have come to a renewed conviction. I am the proud Uma Musume of the esteemed Mejiro family—Mejiro McQueen. Therefore, rather than devising schemes to overcome a wall… I shall shatter it with my own strength."

Not tricks. Not tactics.

Pure ability—running as though crushing all others beneath her stride.

Exactly as Ayumu-san had predicted.

The most familiar and fundamental battle style of Mejiro McQueen—and likely her strongest.

"…Yes. That version of you is a little scary, McQueen-san."

"Only a little? Heh. Should I take that as praise?"

"No, sorry. Honestly? You’re pretty scary."

I grinned.

"But no matter how scary you are, I’m the one who’ll win."

"That confidence—today, I shall shatter it."

Half playful. Completely serious.

Of course. There was no room for half-hearted words today. This Tenno Sho would be anything but easy.

We exchanged fearless smiles, our fighting spirits laid bare.

…Still. She’s been thinking about how to surpass me this whole time?

That might be a problem.

If she focuses only on me, she’ll lose sight of the others. And that’s how you lose this race.

"But I’m not the only one you need to think about. There are other rivals… and above all, she’s here."

I turned my gaze.

A short distance away, silently stretching—Tokai Teio.

"If you don’t keep an eye on Teio as well, you might get swept out from under your feet."

McQueen-san stroked her chin thoughtfully.

"Teio… It seems you regard her more highly than I anticipated. From what we observed at the Arima Kinen, her limit appears to be around 2,400 meters. We concluded that excessive caution would not be necessary."

She wasn’t wrong.

Even by Ayumu-san’s analysis, Teio’s long-distance aptitude ranks at B. While she has the technique to manage her stamina, in terms of raw endurance she falls short of both McQueen-san and me.

So from a purely theoretical standpoint, choosing not to be overly wary of her is the logical conclusion.

But…

"That girl is an Uma Musume who creates miracles. A monster you can only describe as a genius—someone who twists logic and reason itself to snatch victory."

"My instincts are telling me that she deserves just as much caution as you do, McQueen-san."

I couldn’t say the rest out loud, but that was only half the truth.

If anything, my gut was screaming that I should be even more wary of Teio than of McQueen-san.

Maybe it was just lingering bias from the anime in my previous life…

Still, in a race, there’s no such thing as being too cautious.

"Instinct, you say…"

"You don’t believe me?"

"No… I see. I shall keep that in mind."

Even so, whether caution would mean anything against a fully fired-up Teio was another question entirely.

---

As the tension thickened by the minute, we continued stretching and circling the track until, at last, it was time to enter the gates.

My post today was Gate 5, Number 9.

Neither tucked inside nor flung too wide—a middle draw.

Generally speaking, the Tenno Sho (Spring) favors the inner gates.

In a punishing long-distance race where stamina is drained to the last drop, the shorter the path you run, the better. Starting inside puts you closer to the rail, granting a natural advantage.

As for Gate 5… apparently, it’s not ideal.

According to Ayumu-san, among the eight brackets, it ranks second worst in win percentage.

…That doesn’t really concern me.

Gate advantage shows itself mainly in the early positioning battle.

Since I explode from the start faster than anyone and seize the inside line almost instantly, the draw has minimal impact on me.

Of course, an inside gate would still offer a slight distance advantage—but compared to the others, I’m far less affected.

Now then. As for the rivals more likely to feel the difference…

"Here we go! Eighteen runners that have the entire nation holding its breath are loading into the gates—and the last to enter is Tokai Teio!

In Gate 5, the brightest star of the Twinkle Series! In Gate 3, the leading lady dancing across the turf! And on the far outside, the uncrowned emperor! The stage is set, the cast assembled—at last, the moment of decision has arrived!"

McQueen-san had drawn an inside gate, putting her in a favorable position. If I remember correctly, Gate 1 boasts the highest win rate, followed by Gate 3. She’d secured an excellent spot.

Teio, on the other hand… had not been blessed by luck. She’d drawn the absolute outermost gate.

For a front-runner with stamina concerns, that’s a severe disadvantage.

Still… she’ll come.

That girl wins battles she isn’t “supposed” to win.

She’ll kick aside logic and reason and make her way to me.

…Now then.

If I’m going to outrun her all the way to the finish—

I need to focus on the start.

"Ah… it’s cold."

The pre-race tension froze my thoughts.

Useless distractions fell away. My mind narrowed to a single point—the instant of the start.

Every nerve sharpened.

The muscles in my legs drew taut.

All I saw was the pale shimmer ahead.

I was ready to burst.

All that remained was to trust in what Ayumu-san and I had built together.

…All right.

Let’s go.

"They’re off!"

"Hah—!!"

Three-step flight.

The unique starting dash Ayumu-san and I developed—Hoshino Wilm’s signature.

It worked again. I launched harder and faster than anyone.

By the time my fourth step struck the turf and my acceleration locked in, I was already one—no, two lengths ahead.

"A clean break from all seventeen runners—but surging to the front immediately is Hoshino Wilm!

Following her—will it be Tokai Teio? Or Mejiro McQueen?!"

I separated the thunder of hooves in my mind, mapping out positions by sound alone.

As expected in the Tenno Sho, no one had botched the start.

To claim the rail, I needed to angle inward—but I couldn’t obstruct anyone and risk a disqualification for interference. I eased over with calculated space, careful not to impede the pack.

…Good. Rail secured.

About two lengths to the chasing group—just as Ayumu-san predicted.

Perfect. The opening phase is ideal.

Case One of Ayumu-san’s strategy. The best possible pattern.

In that case…

Raise the pace. Grind them down.

"The field stretches early! Chasing Hoshino Wilm about two lengths back on the outside is Mejiro Palmer! Then comes Number 4, Kleine Kiste, Casual Snap, and further out, Tunneling Voice!

Mejiro McQueen, Number 5, settles in sixth or seventh, with Number 11 Poisonous between her and Tokai Teio! But is McQueen beginning to move?!"

"They’re descending the third corner of the first lap, and the tempo is already rising! The pack strings out vertically! With her famed stamina, Hoshino Wilm drives forward with ease—but who can stay with her?!"

Using the cornering I had honed specifically for this race, I flowed down the slope along the inside.

Unless I entered a full spurt, a slightly quick pace wouldn’t push me wide.

Now then… the footsteps.

Second place—likely Mejiro Palmer-senpai—had fallen to about five lengths behind.

I’d expected to break them more decisively, but she was holding on. Perhaps she intended to match my tempo for a while.

From my perspective, that was welcome.

In simple terms, there are three primary ways to win a race.

Overpower with speed.

Drain stamina.

Or control the race with strategy.

The first is straightforward: secure good positioning, unleash your kick around the third corner, and blast past in a decisive finish. It’s the most glamorous and orthodox approach. But if the opponent is simply stronger, you cannot win that way.

The second is more specialized: exhaust your rivals’ stamina and dull their finishing speed.

That’s the method McQueen-san and I excel at. By raising the pace and accelerating the race’s development, we bleed those who attempt to follow.

It requires the stamina to sustain high speed, the judgment to distribute it correctly, and the speed and fighting spirit to close it out.

But if you possess all of that, you can win comfortably.

As Ayumu-san puts it: "Probably the most stable—and the most strength-dependent—strategy in this world."

The third is Nature’s specialty—using tactics to manipulate others and shape the race.

Through words, presence, and racing style, she influences the surrounding runners and steers the flow to her advantage. It sounds simple, but the ceiling is limitless. Managing seventeen competitors perfectly? Even I couldn’t do that without my reincarnated-anime cheat knowledge.

It’s unstable. Highly talent-dependent.

Yet at times, it topples giants.

So.

Among these three methods, in a 3,200-meter endurance battle—

For stamina-proud Hoshino Wilm, the optimal strategy is obvious.

The second.

Drain them. Grind them down.

"…Heh."

Having runners chase me from the start works in my favor.

If I alone were far ahead, the pack might stay composed. But if several runners are actively pushing the pace up front, the rear group grows uneasy.

They’ll think they must accelerate too—or they’ll never catch us. That by the time the final straight arrives, the race may already be decided.

And in this field, besides me, there’s another stamina monster—Mejiro McQueen.

Even the calmest runner would feel pressure to respond to this tempo.

"We’re entering the home stretch of the first lap!

Out in front, as expected, is Hoshino Wilm! About six lengths back in second is Mejiro Palmer! Then, spaced roughly a length apart, Kleine Kiste, Poisonous, and Tunneling Voice give chase!"

"And in sixth—there sits Mejiro McQueen. A comfortable position, running smoothly!"

"Tokai Teio is further back than usual in eleventh—could this be a strategic decision?"

…They’ve taken the bait beautifully.

Even so, I can clearly pick out only about four sets of footsteps behind me.

McQueen-san’s and Teio’s… I can’t hear them.

Both of them are masterful racers. They’re not the type to get overeager and burn themselves out this early.

In that case, against a fully fueled McQueen-san, this may ultimately come down to a pure finishing kick duel.

As for Teio… I can only hope she has enough stamina left to fight at the end.

Well.

For now, I simply run my race.

We’ve already passed the 1,000-meter mark. Roughly two-thirds remains.

My stamina has diminished slightly from the increased pace—but it’s exactly within projections.

I never intended to conserve stamina in this race.

If I did, I wouldn’t be able to defeat McQueen-san.

And more than that… I wouldn’t be able to break my own limits.

That’s right.

This race isn’t just about beating Teio and McQueen-san.

It’s about shattering the wall I failed to break at the Osaka Hai.

"Hoshino Wilm passes in front of the stands—Kyoto’s grandstand erupts!

Number 5 Mejiro McQueen! Number 18 Tokai Teio! And Number 9 Hoshino Wilm! As expected, these three form the core of the race! All eyes are on them!"

"The pace is once again familiar—high! But this is 3,200 meters! Can they really sustain it all the way?!"

…………

The “other side” I glimpsed at the Osaka Hai.

Beyond this accelerating field of vision—my own world.

It’s fine. I’ve already grasped the sensation.

In this race… I can open it.

All right.

It’s time to set my heart ablaze.

"The leaders approach the first corner as the cheers continue unabated!

As expected of eighteen battle-hardened runners—not one has lost control! The race has only just reached its midpoint!"

My body begins to wear down. Pain seeps in. My movements grow heavier.

The long distance still ahead.

The relentless cheers from the stands. A race I cannot lose—will not lose.

The terrifying heat source surging from behind.

The magma-like heat rising from deep within my chest.

And above all—this incomparable joy of running, of competing.

The conditions are met.

Across my vision, faint cracks appear—blue, flickering like flame.

I think…

The first Domain was the Domain of “me.”

A reincarnated soul who couldn’t find her place in this life, discovering her own world—her own belonging. It reflected who I was back then.

So what would the second Domain be?

It must be…

Not the “me” of my previous life.

But the landscape that belongs to me now.

The primal scenery of Hoshino Wilm.

I don’t know what form it will take.

But—

Crack. Crack.

My vision fractures with a sharp, splintering sound.

Beyond the blue, flame-like fissures—something begins to take shape.

Even beyond my limits, I want to run.

I want to run farther. I want to see the scenery ahead.

My soul answers that desire.

"Ah…!"

With a shattering crash, my vision breaks apart.

And at last—

The second Domain opens.

---

A vast grassland stretches beneath a clear sky.

An endless expanse of vivid green runs to the horizon. Untended, overgrown—yet stunted by cold winds.

A few scattered shrubs. Beyond them, a quiet, inviolate land.

Green and brown. Blue and white.

Only four colors paint this world—so serene it feels untouched by human presence.

Ah. Of course.

If you speak of the origin of the racing Uma Musume Hoshino Wilm—there is nowhere else.

This is the nameless plain of my hometown, Hokkaido.

The training ground where I ran for years before entering Tracen Academy.

A bitterly cold, heartbreakingly silent field of grass.

When I was little, that’s all it was to me.

But now—

The wind brushing my skin feels pleasant.

The cool air is perfect for running.

The rebound beneath my hooves is neither too hard nor too soft.

Ah… what a wonderful place to run.

Or perhaps… after running here for so long, I simply became part of it.

It’s been a long time since I last ran across this plain.

Probably not since the day before I moved into the Tracen dorms.

Now, I’m certain I can run faster—far more freely—than I did back then.

And surely… I can see even farther ahead.

"Okay."

Distance remaining: 1,600 meters.

Condition: perfect.

My legs feel lighter than ever.

All right then…

For the first time in a while—

Let’s go all out.