Consciousness drifted between darkness and intense pain.
Her back felt as if it had been crushed by a ten-thousand-ton boulder, and every faint breath pulled at a tearing pain, making Ryo groan involuntarily.
She lay on the rugged ground, her limbs as soft as if all her sinews and bones had been removed.
Her knuckles were white from exertion, yet she couldn’t even muster the strength to prop up her upper body.
The fierce wind howled, carrying grit that stung her face with fine pricks.
The cold wind that poured into her collar chilled her to the bone, but none of this could compare to the surging unwillingness in her heart—she couldn’t stop here.
“Must…
move forward…”
Broken words spilled from between her teeth, the metallic sweetness of blood foam spreading across her tongue.
She slowly raised her right hand, her fingertips fumbling on the rough gravel.
Her nails dug deep into the rock crevices, dislodging a few tiny stone chips.
Her palm was already raw and bloody, and the wounds rubbed against the ground’s grit, sending fiery, burning pain through her.
Yet, she only gritted her teeth, using this pain to stay conscious, dragging her body forward inch by inch.
Her knees moved with difficulty on the ground.
Beneath her worn trousers, her skin repeatedly rubbed against rocks and grit.
The seeping blood quickly stained the earth beneath her, leaving a striking red mark along her crawling path.
Amidst this extreme pain and perseverance, a warm light suddenly flashed through her mind—
It was Tracen Academy’s training ground.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light.
Symboli Rudolf stood by the track, her dark brown hair gently lifted by the wind, the striking white tuft on her forehead particularly dazzling.
She held a training schedule, her gaze steady yet with an imperceptible tenderness: “You have a good sense of rhythm.
Next time, if there’s an opportunity, let’s have a real race.” That was the beginning of their friendship, an unspoken agreement between them, like a seed taking root and sprouting in her heart.
Next, was the scene in the Student Council office.
At that time, Rudolf, out of consideration for her condition, had deliberately held back during training.
That act of kindness, however, ignited the competitive spirit deep within her.
She clutched the challenge letter, her fingertips trembling slightly, yet her eyes were firm as she handed it to Rudolf: “I don’t need you to go easy.
If you truly acknowledge me, then use your full strength to race me!” Rudolf paused, then revealed a relieved smile, taking the challenge letter with a decisive motion: “As you wish.”
A tide of memories surged, pushing her fingertips forward a few more inches.
The scene shifted to Maruzensky’s hearty laughter, as warm as summer sunshine.
The two sat side-by-side by the window in a dessert shop, a strawberry cake in front of them drizzled with glistening fruit sauce.
Maruzensky forked a piece and brought it to her mouth, her eyes sparkling: “Quick, try it!
The cream here isn’t greasy at all!” She opened her mouth and took a bite; the sweet taste melted on her tongue, and in her ear was Maruzensky’s chattering complaint: “Coach Tojo Hana is too strict!
Yesterday’s endurance training almost wore me out!”
Then there was the wild dash on the track.
The two rode training simulacrum horses, the wind whistling past their ears.
Maruzensky’s voice carried a hint of challenge: “Dare to make a bet?
Whoever reaches the finish line first wins, and the loser treats the other to a month of desserts!” She accepted with a laugh.
The two chased each other on the track, hooves thudding, the kicked-up dust filled with youthful fervor.
In the custom racing uniform studio, the faint scent of fabric lingered.
They repeatedly revised the design, Maruzensky stubbornly insisting on adding sequin decorations: “It has to be the most dazzling!
So it can sparkle when I stand on the podium!” She reluctantly compromised, watching the tailor cut and sew the silver-white and sapphire-blue fabric, each stitch woven with their mutual expectations.
And the daily life of the Student Council.
She and Rudolf huddled together, racking their brains to think of corny jokes to tease Air Groove.
“Do you know why racehorses never get lost?
Because they have ‘horse’ road navigation!” Rudolf finished, suppressing a laugh.
A trace of helplessness flashed in Air Groove’s blue eyes, but she still respectfully replied, “The two presidents’ cold jokes are still very unique.” Mr.
C.B., who was listening, was utterly confused and foolishly asked, “What’s ‘horse’ road navigation?
Is it new training equipment?” This made them burst into laughter, and even Air Groove’s lips couldn’t help but curve slightly upward.
These warm fragments were like faint lights, dispelling the present darkness and pain.
She continued to crawl forward, her elbows aching from friction.
Each movement felt like it was draining her last bit of life force, yet the images in her mind became increasingly clear.
Memory flashed back even earlier, to the moment she met Wind Chaser.
When she was just born, she lay in her cradle.
Wind Chaser was still a tiny foal, gently lying beside the cradle, rubbing her cheek with its soft mane, its breath warm.
The day she learned to walk, she stumbled towards Wind Chaser, hugging its neck.
Wind Chaser simply stood steady, allowing her to embrace it and act spoiled.
The first time she shod Wind Chaser, she carefully held the tools, her palms slick with sweat.
The blacksmith guided her from the side.
She held her breath, slowly securing the horseshoe, her fingertips feeling the firmness and strength of Wind Chaser’s hoof.
The sun was bright that day, and Wind Chaser flicked its tail, as if cheering for her success.
On her birthday, there was no grand party, just her and Wind Chaser.
She sat on the grass, sharing a small piece of cake with Wind Chaser, watching it eat with relish, her own eyes curving into a smile.
The wind blew across the grass, carrying the fresh scent of flowers and plants; that was her most peaceful and happiest time.
The first time she stood on a formal racetrack, she rode Wind Chaser, her heart pounding rapidly, her palms sweating from nervousness.
The moment the starting gun fired, Wind Chaser shot out like an arrow from a bow.
The cheers of the crowd roared in her ears, the wind whistled past, and she tightly hugged Wind Chaser’s neck, feeling its running rhythm.
In that moment, it was as if the whole world was just them.
The first time she won a championship, the trophy’s light was dazzling.
She cried, hugging Wind Chaser’s neck, tears mixing with joy.
Wind Chaser rubbed her cheek, letting out a low whinny, as if comforting and celebrating.
Those days of training together, the times they overcame difficulties together, the moments they sweated on the track together, were all deeply etched in her heart, becoming their most steadfast support.
The scene suddenly froze.
It was during an outdoor training camp when a sudden landslide shattered the tranquility.
Boulders rolled down, dust flew everywhere.
She was so scared that her body stiffened, almost forgetting to breathe.
Just then, Wind Chaser suddenly turned around, blocking her, protecting her with its solid body.
Its eyes were firm and brave, leading her step by step through the rocks with difficulty.
Its hooves stepped on the gravel, making crisp sounds, but it never stopped.
“Wind Chaser…” she murmured, tears mixing with sweat, dripping onto the ground and forming a small wet stain.
Just then, the memories in her mind overlapped with reality.
In her blurry vision, a few familiar figures appeared not far ahead—Rudolf stood at the very front, her gaze still steady, but filled with deep concern; Maruzensky waved at her, her face full of urgency; Air Groove and Mr.
C.B.
were also among them, their eyes fixed on her.
And Wind Chaser, bathed in a soft glow, slowly walked towards her.
It lowered its head, rubbing her cheek with its soft mane, its warm breath brushing her skin.
The familiar touch warmed her heart.
The ethereal figures of the Three Goddesses stood quietly not far away, their scrutinizing gazes still present, but with a hint of imperceptible disappointment.
They looked at Ryo, sprawled on the ground and disheveled, as if silently proclaiming that this trial, she had ultimately failed.
“No…
I can’t…”
An unprecedented power surged from the depths of her heart, breaking through the shackles of exhaustion and pain.
Ryo’s eyes snapped open, a fiery light erupting from her crimson pupils.
It was unwillingness, persistence, and a steadfast devotion to her bonds.
She suddenly opened her mouth, using the last of her strength, and let out a deafening roar:
“Ah—!!!”
The roar echoed through the valley, breaking through the obstruction of the strong wind, tearing through the shroud of darkness, and with an unyielding will and burning bonds, it resounded throughout the entire trial ground.