Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters Chapter 82: Uma Musume Pretty Derby: Ten Meters [82]

"…Eh?"

Kitasan Black froze.

She hadn't expected such an answer—and frankly, she had no idea what it even ant.

"The fastest, the strongest, the supre."

Durante repeated calmly, her indifferent expression gradually becoming serious.

"To beco an Uma Musu like that—that's the reason I was born into this world."

"It's my mission and my destiny."

"Whether I succeed or fail."

"To chase the dream passed down through my family—the highest stage called the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe…"

"That alone is my goal."

Having finished speaking, she lowered her head and quietly resud eating.

"The…Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe?"

Once again, Kitasan stared blankly, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"I think Trainer might've ntioned that before, but…what exactly is it?"

Durante's brown ears twitched slightly as she glanced upward, a look of disbelief crossing her face.

"You…don't know about the Arc?"

"Ahahaha, well, uh…" Kitasan chuckled awkwardly, scratching her cheek embarrassedly.

"I'm not exactly the best student, you know? Is that race really famous or sothing?"

Durante stared at her silently for a long mont, before suddenly knitting her brow and cupping her chin in thought.

"Now that you ntion it…if I had to say specifically why it's so important…I guess I don't actually know either."

"Ehh? Even you don't know, Durante-chan? Then all that stuff about dreams and destiny just now…?" Kitasan stared in confusion.

After a mont of deep contemplation, Durante's cool, indifferent expression returned, and she stood up, holding her tray.

"But it doesn't matter. My parents, Air Groove-neesan, and everyone around say it's the ultimate stage for an Uma Musu. That's enough."

"Neesan, I've finished eating. I'll head back first."

The second statent was directed toward Air Groove at the other table.

However, she'd barely taken a step before Air Groove's irritated voice rang out sharply.

"Stop right there!"

"You call that tiny bit of food enough? Do you have any idea how much training you did today?"

"Sit down and finish your al properly. You need those carbs and protein!"

"And don't think I don't know what you're planning—I already told you, no sneaking out for extra training without my permission!"

Durante stopped mid-step, disappointnt clearly written across her face.

"Tch… Busted again, huh…"

…Ahahaha, Durante-chan, you weren't exactly hiding your intentions very well, you know?

Quietly observing, Kitasan couldn't help but feel that beneath her cool exterior, her new classmate and rival seed surprisingly airheaded.

Thinking quickly, she stood up and nodded toward Air Groove.

"Air Groove-senpai, how about I just share so of my dinner with Durante-chan? I can always order more, and I'll make sure she finishes properly."

As she spoke, Kitasan firmly guided Durante back to the table and pushed several portions of her food onto the other girl's tray.

Nearby, Air Groove sighed loudly, turning toward Yasui Makoto with a helpless expression.

"Honestly… She's such a handful. I envy you a bit, Trainer Yasui—Kitasan-san seems so obedient by comparison."

"Hahaha, well… I suppose I'm just lucky."

...

After agreeing to Air Groove's proposal, Yasui Makoto didn't alter the training schedule much.

Durante's specialized training leading up to the Satsuki Sho primarily focused on strength conditioning. Aside from basic running practice, she mostly spent her ti indoors at the gym or swimming pool.

When training alongside her, Kitasan's routine also centered around strength conditioning, while her sprint drills continued individually.

Thus, for the next several days, a familiar sight on the training grounds was Kitasan Black racing along, pulling parachutes behind her.

In pure nurical terms, Yasui was extrely satisfied with the progress achieved through this specialized training.

Previously, Kitasan's maximum sprint speed in training had hovered around 17.8 ters per second. Under actual race conditions—considering opponents, environnt, and stamina—her effective performance was about 17.4 to 17.6 m/s.

Now, after less than a week of intensive drills, she had steadily approached speeds of nearly 18 ters per second during training.

At first glance, an increase of barely 0.2 m/s might not seem impressive.

However, translated into actual distance, that ant approximately a 3.5-ter advantage. In a close race, that distance could easily decide victory or defeat.

Considering sprinting had always been one of Kitasan's weaker areas, even incrental improvents like this were genuinely exciting.

Still, Yasui acknowledged this special training was far from complete. Additional adjustnts, reinforcent, and consistency training would be essential.

The previously arranged practice race served precisely as an ideal benchmark to gauge progress and optimize future training.

The practice race was scheduled for Friday afternoon.

Since holding a race would temporarily occupy the track, Yasui had filed an official application to reserve it, as required by school regulations.

Given Daiwa Scarlet and the others had agreed well in advance, Yasui had submitted the application to the Student Council several days prior. Tokai Teio had promptly approved it without issue.

But when Friday afternoon arrived, Yasui found himself facing sothing unexpected.

At that mont, the usually bustling training grounds—normally full of Uma Musu and trainers—appeared unusually empty, a broad expanse of vibrant green.

Starting gates had been neatly positioned by the grounds staff.

Aside from the quiet emptiness of the field itself, only a small gathering stood near the entrance: Yasui Makoto, Kitasan Black, Daiwa Scarlet, Tokai Teio, jiro McQueen, and the others participating in the race.

However, the viewing stands across from them were entirely packed with an excited, cheering crowd of students, trainers, and even teachers—easily numbering over two thousand. It seed nearly the whole academy had turned out.

From a distance, Yasui could clearly hear enthusiastic cheering and see banners and pom-poms waving energetically.

The banners predominantly featured Daiwa Scarlet, Vodka, Special Week, and Gold Ship's nas, while enthusiastic cheers filled the air, all aid at those renowned Uma Musu.

Observing the lively scene, Yasui muttered incredulously to himself:

"…This is just a practice race. How'd it turn into such a spectacle?"

Tokai Teio, who had been enthusiastically encouraging Kitasan, turned toward Yasui upon hearing him.

"Normally, practice races wouldn't attract this kind of crowd. But whose fault is it, Trainer Yasui, for inviting so many big-na stars?"

jiro McQueen nodded in agreent:

"She's right, you know. Special Week-san and the others are so of our school's most celebrated Uma Musu—and Gold Ship-san is arguably among the strongest active racers around."

"There must be countless students who idolize them. Many probably beca Uma Musu in the first place because of them."

"Now they not only get to see their idols in person, but even watch them race. How could there not be excitent?"

Yasui smiled wryly, not having anticipated such a turnout.

It wasn't that he didn't grasp Special Week and the others' popularity—he simply lacked experience and hadn't truly realized how much attention their fa would attract.

Still, he quickly adjusted his expectations. After all, outside of racing, these Uma Musu were genuine celebrities, not just in Japan but internationally. Even one alone would cause a stir—let alone several gathered together at once.

After realizing this, Yasui turned his attention back toward Kitasan Black, curious how his Uma Musu was handling this sudden, overwhelming atmosphere.