Chapter 56: Hot Summer Training Camp, Part 3

Maruzensky and Symboli Rudolf’s arrival. With a match against them looming, all of us were more than a little intimidated. And out of everyone, I was by far the most nervous.

The rules were set: horse girls specializing in mile races or shorter would face Maruzensky one-on-one, while those specializing in middle-distance or longer would face Symboli Rudolf.

My opponent? President Rudolf. The stage was a 2500-meter right-handed track—a race seemingly modeled after the Arima Kinen. I wanted to run 3000 meters, but if I did, people would catch on: "This girl can easily handle 3000 meters! She could run in the Kikuka Sho!" At 2500 meters, I could still hide it.

While 2500 meters is my preferred long-distance range, it’s also President Rudolf’s forte. My fear wouldn’t stop gnawing at me. Sure, Maru-chan and President Rudolf would probably go easy on us… but still. Terrifying.

For reference: Daiwa Scarlet, Vodka, and Silence Suzuka would face Maruzensky, while me—Apollo Rainbow—along with Gold Ship, Tokai Teio, Mejiro McQueen, and Special Week, would take on Symboli Rudolf. Looking at it this way, Team Spica is stacked with mid-to-long-distance specialists. A lineup of the finest long-distance runners in Tracen, packed to the brim.

Daiwa Scarlet, who charged at Maruzensky first, and Vodka, who challenged her after an interval, both fought hard but ultimately lost. Honestly, the fact that they—both younger than me—even stood their ground against Maruzensky was impressive. They had their moments to shine, and their futures are undoubtedly bright.

Now, for the first match against Symboli Rudolf—thanks to the lottery draw, it was my turn. Fully prepared, I headed to the course with President Rudolf, making our way to the starting gate.

I was so stiff with nerves that I had zero desire to make small talk. Frankly, I’d have preferred if she didn’t talk to me. Knowing me, I’d blurt out some stupid joke and piss her off. Otherwise, why would she casually call me "Apollo" without honorifics? President Rudolf isn’t the type to aggressively invade personal space like some gyaru, so I figured a bare-minimum greeting would suffice.

"President Rudolf, I look forward to racing with you today."

"No need to be so formal. Relax—you’re making me nervous, Apollo."

"Eep!"

Just her casually dropping my name was enough to freeze my blood. And as if enjoying my reaction, Symboli Rudolf’s tail swayed cheerfully behind her. She was definitely amused by how scared I was.

"By the way, Apollo, Maruzensky and I crossed many mountains to reach this training camp."

"Uh, y-yeah…?"

"Steep mountains are… impressive mountains. Don’t you think?"

"……Huh?"

"Hmm, is there something on my face?"

Hearing that pun, I instinctively glanced at her. She met my gaze with a bright, unguarded smile—too pretty, with unfairly long lashes. Maybe it was her carefree expression, but a gentle aura seemed to radiate around her.

Now that I thought about it… had President Rudolf ever actually intimidated me directly? Maybe I’d just assumed she disliked me. What if… she actually likes me?

I mean, if a junior actually appreciates your terrible puns, wouldn’t you dote on them? Hell, I’m already spoiling Vodka and Scarlet just because we’ve gotten a little closer. And if a junior as adorable as me (and, in hindsight, not even afraid of her) existed, wouldn’t President Rudolf be thrilled?

Okay, maybe I was overestimating myself—but one thing was clear: Symboli Rudolf didn’t dislike me. Suddenly, she felt much closer, and my mouth started running ahead of me. Well, a slightly cheeky junior is cute, right?

"Even when we’re talking up close like this, it still feels like distant small talk. President, you’ve got a sweet potato stick right here."

"Oh, my apologies." I plucked the snack from her hair as she chuckled. Seizing the moment, I teased:

"The race is about to start, but if you go all out, I’ll stand no chance… so, President Rudolf, go easy on me, okay?"

"I’m in peak condition today. No promises."

With that, Symboli Rudolf stepped into the starting gate. I followed, swallowing hard before taking a deep breath. It had been two months since my last real race—the Japan Derby. Going too long without the tension of competition would dull my instincts. Had my legs grown sluggish? Could I still push past my limits into the "Zone"? A flicker of unease crept in.

But no—I’d be fine. I had an excellent trainer. Steeling myself, I faced forward in the gate. Trainer Tenkai’s voice rang out, signaling the start.

The weather was clear, the turf firm. Under the scorching 30-degree heat, the Arima Kinen-style practice match began.

CLANG. A sharp metallic snap echoed. Symboli Rudolf, positioned on the outside, burst from the gate almost in sync with me. As expected of the Emperor—a flawless start. Though she did seem surprised I matched her rocket start… but speed wasn’t my only weapon.

Proudly, I surged ahead, pushing past 70 km/h in a blistering front-runner’s pace. The absence of a live commentator threw me off slightly, but not enough to matter. After 400 meters on the straight, our positions were set: me leading by a huge margin, with Symboli Rudolf three lengths behind, hovering between pressing and stalking.

Symboli Rudolf’s running style was famously versatile. While she was best known for dominant front-running, she’d also won classics with late surges and even stolen G1s from behind.

Personally, I’d have preferred if she’d chosen to stalk or close. Her dominating people from the front was way scarier. But of course, she came for me. Can’t blame her—when your opponent’s a maniac who might win by setting a murderous pace, you have to chase.

In competition, it’s crucial to do what you want—but just as vital to do what your opponent hates. Glaring at Symboli Rudolf, I rounded the second corner and entered the backstretch. No announcer’s voice, no crowd noise—just the two of us, our ragged breaths and the howling wind swallowing the turf.

So far, so good. But something felt off. Symboli Rudolf hadn’t moved an inch. No challenge, no pressure—was this not her plan to stalk me? Had she underestimated me? Even for someone of her caliber, maintaining this brutal pace would shred her stamina and closing speed.

Past the midpoint of the backstretch, roughly 1200 meters left. I was blazing ahead at record speed, on my preferred long-distance stage. My legs spun smoother than usual; my pace felt fiercer. If I held this lap to the finish, I’d smash the track record—unofficial, sure, but I needed to test my limits.

I dug my lead hoof into the turf, igniting another burst of speed. The stamina I’d honed since the Derby burned bright as I pushed to widen the gap.

1000 meters remaining—already a solo lead. A glance back: six lengths ahead of Rudolf. Yet she just watched, unmoving.

Was it really this easy? Would she not chase me? If this kept up, I’d win. Did she hold back because of the others waiting after me?

—Well, fine. I’ll beat the Emperor.

Just as I braced for a long sprint—

A voice, icy and deliberate, cut through the air from far behind.

"Now… shall I get serious?"

My mind blanked. Not from confusion—but from the pressure crushing me, seizing my limbs.

"Hah—uh—ghh—?!"

"Intimidation" didn’t begin to describe it.

This was murderous intent. A weapon forged from blackened ambition and tactical precision—the resolve to win, even if it meant destroying every last rival. It wasn’t just applied pressure; it was innate.

(How the hell am I supposed to run against THIS—?!)

A miasma of dread coiled around my legs, sapping my speed. Before I knew it, the gap had shrunk—two lengths, then one.

500 meters left, the final turn. The monster’s footsteps quaked the ground, each stride shaking the turf, each thud freezing my heart. I gritted my teeth, clinging to sheer stubbornness.

—Ah, now I remember. Tomi had warned me: "Symboli Rudolf’s acceleration stride is monstrous." The conversation with my trainer played in my head, distant and useless.

And wasn’t there more?

"Symboli Rudolf masters turns like no other."

Right on cue, as we exited the final turn, her bay coat drew level with mine. Her signature move: a devastating late surge, accelerating through the bend to strike from just off the pace.

I should have cut her off, denied her the outside—but I lacked the finesse. One misstep could’ve meant disqualification or injury. Dammit, stop overthinking! If this kept up, the Emperor would obliterate me exactly as she pleased.

A futile resistance—then Symboli Rudolf swept past. In that fleeting moment, our eyes locked.

"Is this your best?"

Leaving thunder and flying turf in her wake, she launched her final sprint. Her massive strides devoured the ground, the gap widening with every step. Her leaning form shrank in the distance as the finish line loomed—and in my chest, fury erupted.

"SYMBOLI RUDOLF—!"

A voice, small but scalding—disappointed? Mocking? Or hoping I’d take it that way? Her profile, as if she’d misjudged me. Those piercing, predatory eyes, testing me, waiting to see how I’d respond.

Rage. Humiliation. And beneath it all—she’d considered me worth this much.

The moment I sensed the race’s end, sparks flashed at the edges of my vision. Lightning surged through my veins. Oxygen flooded my extremities; my drained stamina flickered back to life. The "Zone" engulfed my sight, swallowing Rudolf’s back—and for an instant, I swore I saw her stiffen.

In an instant, an acceleration so intense it felt like my own legs might shatter surged through me. Hallucinations flickered behind my eyelids. I saw myself pushing forward through a blizzard, chasing the moonbow beyond it.

I swung my arms with everything I had. The pain was so unbearable that any onlooker might wonder why I didn’t just quit already. Even the grayish-brown-haired Uma Musume beside me looked like she was gasping from the agony. But still, I pressed on—for victory, throwing aside my body and everything else.

For just a moment, something appeared in that blinding white illusion. It looked terrifying. It looked beautiful. It looked like the very vision I was striving for—and like a glimpse of a doomed future. But I couldn't make out what it was. The blizzard tore it all away, and as the end of the race drew near, it vanished completely.

I pulled up beside Symboli Rudolf. Her profile came into view—surprised, yet somehow joyful. The finish line loomed ahead. Every time I tried to surge past her, her lips twisted further, as if straining. And yet, she laughed, throwing aside the pain of her drained stamina like it was nothing.

"—Magnificent."

The moment I heard those words, the race came to a close.

The result: a half-length victory for me—Apollo Rainbow. Even if she hadn’t gone all out, I still managed to best Symboli Rudolf, a living legend. And with that, the mock race was over.

Looking back on the special exhibition match, the only ones who managed to defeat the Maruzensky–Symboli Rudolf duo were me and Silence Suzuka. Silence Suzuka refused to give up the lead to Maruzensky and held on to win by a full length. In the end, it was only the active Twinkle Series competitors who claimed victory.

For the record, Symboli Rudolf had gone all-in against Tokai Teio and Mejiro McQueen—along with Gold Ship, whose background remains a mystery—after their move to the Dream Trophy League.

Mejiro McQueen fought a neck-and-neck battle over 3,000 meters and lost by just a nose, while Tokai Teio raced over 2,400 meters and lost by a head. If the distances or timing had been different, the outcomes might’ve flipped. For whatever reason, Symboli Rudolf had been in top form today, while Mejiro McQueen and Tokai Teio were doing well—but not quite at their peak.

Once the match races wrapped up, it was time for post-race analysis—taking advice from Maruzensky, Symboli Rudolf, and the others, watching footage to correct any flaws in our form. The scrutiny was especially harsh on the middle- and long-distance runners who faced off against President Rudolf.

The longer the race, the more even the slightest inefficiency in form translates into wasted stamina. Since I specialize in distances of 3,000 meters or more, the checkups on me were down to the millimeter to ensure I wasn't burning energy needlessly.

This training camp’s whole purpose, you could say, is to identify weaknesses and correct them—while also sharpening our strengths.

And so, we kept pushing ourselves through trial and error. Before we knew it, it was mid-August. By then, our skin had tanned a deep bronze, and our physiques had grown lean and solid.

But the summer camp wasn’t over yet. Training had reached its climax, and the time had finally come for the overseas battles of Taiki Shuttle and Seeking the Pearl to begin.