For days, the training grounds of Tracen Academy had been enveloped in an almost obsessive, scorching atmosphere.
Her dark, deep-brown hair was soaked with sweat, clinging tightly to Symboli Rudolf’s temples and the back of her neck, while the tuft of white hair on her forehead glistened moistly in the sunlight.
Dressed in lightweight, quick-drying sportswear, every swing of her arms and every push off the ground was precise to the extreme.
The lines of her muscles outlined a silhouette full of power as she moved, her footsteps steady as a beating drum.
For days, she had devoted almost all her time to training.
The dust kicked up on the track was mixed with a scorching fighting spirit directed at that one figure—Ryo, the peer who had reignited her long-dormant fighting spirit.
“Rudolf, take a ten-minute break!” The Trainer’s voice came from the sidelines, carrying an unquestionable, forceful command.
Symboli Rudolf did not stop; her deep-brown eyes were fixed only on the finish line ahead.
In her ears, the heart-pounding excitement from the stands that day seemed to echo.
Ryo’s arrogance when crossing the finish line and the sharpness when she threw her gloves were like invisible whips, constantly urging her on.
It wasn’t until the Trainer called out for the third time that she abruptly halted, her chest heaving violently as she gasped for air.
Sweat dripped down her jawline, splashing onto the track and leaving a small, damp stain.
She picked up a towel to wipe away her sweat, but her gaze drifted involuntarily toward the Academy gate.
For the past few days, she had constantly heard other Uma Musume talking about Ryo—her custom Winners Uniform and the fun times she had going for rides and eating desserts with Maruzensky.
Whenever this happened, an inexplicable feeling of stuffiness would well up in her chest, making her even more agitated than a failed training session.
She didn’t understand what this emotion was, dismissing it as merely being overly concerned about a rival.
She shook her head vigorously, turned, and sprinted back onto the track, her deep-brown figure tracing a determined path in the sunlight.
In fact, Maruzensky had invited her to watch the Tokyo Daily Cup long ago.
“Rudolf, Little Ryo is wearing her Winners Uniform for the first time in a race.
Aren’t you going to see your rival?” She had refused without a second thought at the time, her tone stiff: “Training is more important.” But when the race day finally arrived, she couldn’t help but sneak out of the training grounds early, quietly sitting in a corner of the spectator stands with her hat pulled low, trying to hide herself.
A few days later, the Tokyo Daily Cup began as scheduled.
The 1600-meter turf track was packed, and the bend of the clockwise course was already crowded with spectators.
When the eighteen competing Uma Musume walked into the contestant tunnel, the appearance of a white figure caused the entire arena to fall into an instant silence, followed by an eruption of thunderous cheers and screams—it was Ryo.
The short white haori hugged her shoulder line, outlining a sharp figure.
The pale blue frost flower patterns on the cuffs of the seven-quarter sleeves shimmered faintly in the sunlight, and the light cyan knot at the collar hung gently, exuding elegance mixed with heroism.
The A-line skirt was the perfect length, and the silver iris on the side swayed with her steps, echoing the silver-threaded “Ling” on the side of her shoes.
The entire Winners Uniform, with its white base and blue-cyan accents, perfectly blended Japanese-style gentleness with the sharpness of an Uma Musume.
Combined with her silver hair and red eyes, she looked like a noble princess walking from the clouds, her aura cold yet dazzling.
“It’s the Emperor!
This Winners Uniform is absolutely stunning!”
“Both beautiful and strong!
No wonder she became famous in one battle!”
“I can’t stop taking pictures; this level of beauty combined with her skill is so captivating!”
The discussions rose and fell, and the sound of camera shutters was ceaseless.
Everyone’s gaze was focused on her, and her popularity was so explosive that it almost overshadowed the other competing Uma Musume.
Maruzensky stood by the contestant tunnel, watching the surrounded Ryo, a flash of amazement and amusement appearing in her brown eyes: “This girl, she has even more presence in her Winners Uniform.” Her gaze swept across a corner of the spectator stands, precisely capturing that familiar hat, and a mischievous smile curled at the corners of her mouth as she quietly made her way over.
Ryo was indifferent to the surrounding cheers, closing her eyes slightly to feel the wind on the track and adjust her breathing.
The moment she put on the Winners Uniform, she merged with the composure and confidence from her past life, and her blood gradually began to boil.
At this moment, she was an elegant princess, but as long as she stepped onto the track, if anyone dared to provoke or attempt to surpass her, the imperial aura in her bones would instantly awaken.
“Uma Musume, please enter the starting gates—” The announcer’s voice spread across the arena through the broadcast, and Ryo walked steadily toward her assigned gate.
Beside her, an Uma Musume wearing a green and black Winners Uniform turned her head, her brown hair and red eyes filled with undisguised fighting spirit and provocation—it was Sirius Symboli.
“Ryo, I’ve long heard of your title as the Emperor.” Sirius Symboli came from the Symboli family, and her name originated from Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky.
Her innate pride meant she never submitted to anyone.
“But today, I will end your legend and nip it in the bud.” She excelled in middle and long-distance races, possessed extremely strong late-stage explosive power, and had a strong personality, always loving to challenge the strong through racing.
She entered this race solely to surpass the currently trending Ryo.
Ryo slowly opened her eyes, her crimson eyes devoid of ripples as she gave her a faint glance without responding.
This level of provocation was not worth mentioning, but Sirius Symboli’s tone and gaze still stirred an imperial-like displeasure in the depths of her heart—she disliked nothing more than people spouting nonsense on the racetrack.
“What?
Too afraid to respond?” Sirius Symboli, thinking she was feeling guilty, raised her lips in sarcasm, “It seems the outside world’s praise for you is nothing more than that.”
Ryo remained silent, only slightly straightening her back.
Her aura changed quietly, adding a touch of inviolable majesty to her coldness.
The surrounding Uma Musume felt this pressure and instinctively moved away.
“Clang—” With a crisp, loud sound, the eighteen starting gates opened simultaneously.
Relying on her excellent starting speed, Sirius Symboli took the lead, rushing to the very front, looking back at Ryo behind her from time to time with eyes full of triumph.
Ryo, however, did not accelerate after the start, maintaining a position in the middle-back throughout, her running form elegant and steady.
Her crimson eyes calmly observed the track and the movements of the other Uma Musume; clearly, she had not used her full strength.
Halfway through the race, they entered the bend.
Ryo continued to move forward steadily, maintaining a distance from Sirius Symboli, as if she were leisurely “chasing.” Some people in the spectator stands began to get anxious: “Why isn’t the Emperor accelerating?
She’s going to be left too far behind!”
“Don’t worry, look at her rhythm; she’s not even trying yet.” Maruzensky’s voice sounded in the corner.
Symboli Rudolf looked up abruptly, realizing she had been found out, her cheeks beneath the brim of her hat burning slightly.
“You said you weren’t going to come and were going to train instead, so why are you sneaking over to watch your rival?” Maruzensky sat down next to her, her tone teasing, “Are you worried that your title as the Emperor is going to be outshone by the ‘Emperor’?”
Symboli Rudolf pressed her lips together without retorting, her gaze involuntarily locked on that white figure on the track, her deep-brown eyes filled with complex emotions.
Entering the home stretch, there were only 200 meters left to the finish line.
Sirius Symboli was enjoying her lead, but suddenly felt a strong aura coming from behind.
She turned her head and saw that Ryo seemed to be plated with a layer of shimmer, her white Winners Uniform flapping loudly in the wind, and raging flames burning in her crimson eyes—the Emperor was finally getting serious.
“Impossible!” Sirius Symboli growled, giving everything she had to accelerate, her late-stage explosive power displayed to the fullest.
But at this moment, Ryo was unstoppable.
She leaned forward slightly, and every push off the ground erupted with astonishing power, her speed incredibly fast.
In just a second, she shot past Sirius Symboli from the side like a bolt of white lightning, instantly opening up a gap and aggressively taking the lead.
This sudden, crushing overtake made the entire audience stand up, their cheers deafening: “The Emperor!
Too cool!
An overtake in one second!”
Sirius Symboli was stunned; she had given it her all, only to be easily surpassed by Ryo.
That sense of powerlessness hit her hard.
In the end, Ryo crossed the finish line with an absolute advantage of three horse lengths, winning the Tokyo Daily Cup!
Ribbons flew everywhere in the sky.
Ryo stood at the finish line, panting slightly, the fighting spirit in her crimson eyes gradually fading, restoring her usual coldness.
She turned around to look at Sirius Symboli, who was running toward her; the other’s face was full of unwillingness and disappointment, her eyes slightly red.
Ryo walked up to her, not saying any mocking words, but simply raised her hand and lightly flicked her forehead—a light tap, carrying a hint of punishment, but no malice at all.
Her movements were natural and crisp, and the pride in her bones meant she had none of the awkwardness of a little girl, only the faint warning of an Emperor to a challenger.
“Next time you provoke me, be prepared to lose even more miserably.” Ryo’s voice was cold, yet resonant.
Sirius Symboli covered her forehead, looking at Ryo before her.
Her unwillingness and disappointment gradually dissipated, replaced by an even more determined fighting spirit.
She raised her head, her brown hair and red eyes flashing with light: “I know!
Next race, I will definitely surpass you!”
Ryo nodded slightly and turned to walk toward the spectator stands.
Her white Winners Uniform shone brilliantly in the sunlight, her noble temperament and racetrack aura blending perfectly, sparking cheers from the entire crowd once again.
In the corner of the spectator stands, Symboli Rudolf watched that dazzling figure, clenching her fists tightly.
Her deep-brown eyes burned with an even greater fighting spirit, along with a hint of concern she hadn’t even realized herself.
Maruzensky looked at her and chuckled: “How about it?
Your rival is quite impressive, isn’t she?”
Symboli Rudolf did not answer, simply rising and leaving silently.
Her back remained upright, but she moved with a hint of haste.
She knew that the next time they met on the racetrack, she would have to bring her full strength so as not to disappoint this fated rival’s “Emperor.”