Chapter 284: The Finals (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 284: The Finals (1)
Crack!
A sixteen-year-old horse beastkin, her upper body bent low, rounded the final corner and entered the straightaway.
It was the final spurt, each racer unleashing their full abilities.
The force of it was enough to kick up a gale and shake the very ground. In the blink of an eye, they blazed through the straightaway and crossed the finish line.
The fifteen simulated racers came to an abrupt halt as if their roles were complete. Among them, Miro stood panting, gasping for breath.
She had finished in third place.
Excluding the unshakable top two, Shibiogwi and Iris, she was in first. For the first time ever, she had beaten Scarlet, a rival she had never once managed to surpass.
Miro’s full power, though only slightly, had clearly surpassed Scarlet’s.
Having used every last ounce of her strength, Miro collapsed onto the ground, utterly exhausted.
“Good work. You’ve finally beaten Scarlet.”
“It was only once.”
“One time becomes two, and two becomes three. In any case, doesn’t this prove you have the potential to surpass Scarlet?”
“Yeah… I never thought it would actually happen, but it did.”
The simulation was indeed a cheat-like training system, but it couldn’t make the impossible possible.
It only guided her, shaving down the smallest possibilities to help her reach a better outcome.
Repetitive practice, analysis, and Miro’s own capability to make it all meaningful.
This result was a harmonious combination of all these factors.
Of course, a simulation was just a simulation, not reality. She couldn’t be satisfied with this, nor could she let her guard down.
But even so, there was no denying that catching Scarlet was a meaningful achievement.
“Habits won’t change in just two weeks. The skill gap between racers won’t either. But strategies will.”
“I know.”
Training was just training.
A simulation was just a simulation.
No matter how realistic it felt, the line between the virtual and the real was clear, and she had to know how to draw it.
If she couldn’t, this training experience would become a poison that would betray her.
“Do you want to practice more?”
“Maybe just one more after a short break?”
“It’s good to work hard, but don’t overdo it. It’s time to start managing your condition.”
“Okay, Trainer.”
After two more mock races, Miro finished her training and returned to the outside world.
The season had entered summer, and the days had grown noticeably longer, yet the sun was already setting.
She felt it every time, but being in Rin’s Dream Garden made one’s sense of time grow vague.
It was a good thing someone was there to manage it for her. Otherwise, she might have missed the race day and just kept training endlessly.
It could have turned into one of those novels where the protagonist emerges after a hundred years of training and finds the world moving in slow motion.
“By the way, Trainer, what exactly is Scarlet?”
Although she had caught up to Scarlet for the first time today, she was defeated every time in the subsequent practice runs, as if her victory had been a fluke.
And that wasn’t all.
As if she’d burned out, she was beaten by Scarlet, Lua, and even Marine, dropping all the way to fifth place.
“There exists a famous horse called a thousand-ri horse, said to be able to run a thousand ri in a single day. Among them is one with a red mane. I suspect she might be one of them.”
“A thousand-ri horse…”
No wonder.
She might not be on the level of Shibiogwi and Iris, but she was far from ordinary.
If she was born with that kind of lineage, it all made sense.
“There aren’t many days left.”
“You’re right, it’s already just a few days away.”
Only three days remained until the race. It felt like the competition had been announced three months ago, but time had flown by.
She had trained as much as she could and analyzed as much as she could. All that was left was to reap the rewards.
Miro stared intently at the setting sun.
“Trainer.”
“Yes.”
“You told me before. That if I didn’t want to run, I didn’t have to.”
“I did say that.”
“Do you know why I kept running?”
“Why is that?”
Miro placed a hand on her chest.
She closed her eyes and asked, as if questioning herself.
Why did the Miro of the past run?
Because it was what she was best at?
To get a scholarship?
Those might have been the reasons.
But they weren’t the only ones.
“To run away.”
“From what?”
“From reality.”
Days where she couldn’t see a future.
Will I ever amount to anything living like this?
How long do I have to live like this?
She ran because of an inner desire to escape her bleak reality.
“There are many ways to escape reality. Why, out of all things, did you choose running?”
“Because… they loved it the most.”
“Who did?”
Miro flinched for a moment.
But she soon spoke again.
“My mom and dad.”
Miro was not an only child.
Her siblings were all her own.
That meant Miro had spent more time with her parents than one might think. She hadn’t been a mere child, so her memories of them were still quite vivid.
Just as parents delight and clap when a baby takes its first steps, her parents, when they were alive, had loved to watch Miro run.
They cheered when she ran.
They were sad when she fell.
They rejoiced when she won.
She even had memories of running with them across the plains.
Seeing her parents happy made her happy in turn, so Miro naturally came to love running.
Even after her parents passed away and she had to lead her younger siblings alone, she didn’t stop running.
The freedom of running against the wind.
The thrill of overtaking every opponent and crossing the finish line in first place.
It felt like the world was a stage just for her, and when that overwhelming rush of dopamine washed over her mind and body, she could be free from reality.
“You don’t have to run from reality anymore. And you don’t have to do it just because others liked it.”
“Maybe you’re right. But as I kept racing, I realized something. ‘Ah, running really is fun.’”
When she sold herself and became a slave, she had come to hate the running she once loved so much, but that was just a twisted feeling forced upon her by a harsh reality.
She couldn’t deny her true feelings.
Miro reached her hand toward the sky.
“So I’m going to run this time, too. Because I want to.”
And since she’d come this far, she was going to aim for the championship.
For herself.
For her siblings.
For her parents.
For her trainer.
She would climb back to that place, to that view she had seen that day when she flew through the sky and looked down on everything—this time, with her own two legs.
*
The Harpanel Racetrack was bustling with people.
Thanks to the huge success of the first main race, people had flocked from all over.
The spectator seats had long been packed to the brim. Despite that, long lines of people still snaked around the outside of the racetrack.
A temporary screening area had even been set up outside for those who couldn't get in.
“Wow, there are so many people.”
Alfia was genuinely impressed.
For an elf who lived in a small community in the forest, a crowd this size was a rare experience.
There were various other races, but most were human. The sheer number of them made her understand why the lands of humans were called the center of the world.
It was an awe-inspiring sight.
The mere presence of so many people in one place created a suffocating pressure, and someone was being crushed to death by it.
“Jeez, sis! How long are you going to be like that? The race is about to start!”
“There are so many more people than last time… The scale has gotten way too big. I just like running a little…”
“Sis!”
Miro was lying on the sofa, curled up like a pill bug.
She had expected a large crowd, but this was excessive. For a girl who had been attending an academy until recently, it was too big a stage.
It was doubtful she could even run properly like this.
As she searched for a way to survive, Miro spotted Mirabelle, and a lightbulb flashed in her head.
“Mirabelle! Cast a spell on me. A spell so I won’t be nervous! You can do that, right? You’re a great witch, aren't you?”
“Well, I can…”
It was a piece of cake for her.
But she couldn’t readily grant the request.
Mirabelle glanced at Karami, checking his reaction.
“No.”
“He says no…”
“Why not, Trainer? You’re on my side, aren’t you? The racer you trained so preciously is trembling with nervousness!”
“The other racers are in the same environment. It would be special treatment for only Miro to receive such magic.”
“That’s not fair~”
She often felt it, but Karami was strict about the weirdest things. Honestly, having come this far, he surely wanted to win too, so you’d think he’d be willing to bend the rules.
“This is a precious stage that only sixteen people in the world get to stand on. Even this nervousness is an incredibly rare experience. Don’t be afraid; enjoy this atmosphere. You like to have fun, don’t you, Miro?”
“You make it sound so easy with your plausible words!”
Listening to him, anyone would think he was some wise sage who’d seen it all.
She suddenly recalled what he’d said when she was flying on Skadia’s back. That from high up, everything below looks insignificant.
Maybe Karami always saw the world that way. As if he were playing a board game from outside the world itself.
“But will they be able to hold the race today? It’s raining.”
Elize stood by the window, looking up at the gloomy sky with a worried expression.
A vast, dark cloud covered the sky, making it incredibly dim. Fat raindrops began to fall with a pitter-patter.
“What should we do? Should I get rid of the clouds?”
For Alfia’s servants, getting rid of clouds was no trouble at all.
But Karami shook his head.
“Let’s leave it as is.”
“Leave it as is?”
The track would be wet, making it difficult to run.
“A race on a rainy day. It introduces new variables you don’t normally see, and it’s novel. This, too, will be a good spectacle.”
“Th-then, should I put up a magic canopy so the audience doesn’t get wet…?” Mirabelle, who had been dispirited since being scolded last time, asked cautiously.
“Leave that as well. Won’t the audience become more immersed in the racers running through the downpour if they get soaked too?”
Of course, Karami was an exception.
He was in a VIP room where the rain couldn’t get in.
He was confident he could be immersed without getting wet. It definitely wasn’t because he didn’t want to get rained on.
As they waited, the unpleasant screech of a voice amplification device activating rang out.
“Ah, ah, can you hear me? Seems like you can.”
Hilde, dressed in the uniform of the Lion King’s family, stepped onto a platform visible to all. Her image was being broadcast on the screens.
This, too, was part of Karami’s plan.
As the princess of Vestia, she was meant to use this race to give a speech to change the public’s perception of beastkin.
“Anyway, there are a fuck-ton of you bastards with nothing better to do. It’s Hilde, Princess of Vestia. No one here doesn’t know me, right?”
Though, it seemed like she was about to make things worse.