Horse Girl, Your Friend is Fighting Her Way Out of the Horse Racing Track

Almost instantly, the consciousness of poetry and wine sank into deep darkness.

There were no nightmares that night, only a peaceful sleep.

A new day begins, with the first rays of dawn.

While Diamond Treasure was still asleep as usual, Poetry and Wine had already finished their routine morning run.

After having a quick breakfast in the cafeteria, she didn't go to the teaching building with her backpack like other freshmen.

Because of the privileged arrangements symbolized by Rudolf.

She was granted special permission to skip academic classes today and only needs to focus on those few tests.

After adjusting his mindset, Shi Yujiu changed into his fitted red and white training uniform and walked alone towards the training field.

The morning air was a bit humid, and Chairman Rudolf and Trainer Minamisaka were still standing in the same familiar spot as yesterday.

The president, dressed in Tresson's uniform, stood there with an upright posture, while Nansaka looked down at his watch with a gentle expression.

"The timing is perfect."

Nanzaka smiled and looked up, her light purple eyes revealing approval.

"Are you ready? Today's schedule is packed."

"We'll first complete the 3000-meter long-distance test on the grass here, and then we'll move to the Trace School's dirt training field to test the remaining 2000-meter and 3000-meter dirt tracks."

Poetry and Wine nodded without saying anything more.

She took a deep breath and meticulously stretched every muscle, following the movements Rudolf had taught her the day before.

With the sound of the whistle, the 3000-meter grass test began.

This time, she ran with even more ease than yesterday.

Long-distance endurance tests seem to be non-existent for her.

Poetry and wine crossed the finish line with an excellent time no less than yesterday's 2000-meter race.

……

After a brief rest, the three of them walked through several buildings and arrived at the other side of Treson.

A dry, earthy smell filled the air.

What comes into view is a circular running track covered with dark brown sand.

Unlike the pleasing green of the grass, the dirt track exudes a ruggedness and wildness.

Beneath the soft sand lies a greater demand on the horse's grip.

"The test now is the 3000-meter mud track. Don't feel pressured, relax, and run freely."

Nanban held the tactical board, gazing intently at the poem and wine, his tone serious.

"I will work with the president to accurately record your data every second."

Poetry and wine stand at the starting line, the feel underfoot is completely different from that of grass.

When you step into the sand, you feel a slight sinking sensation, unlike the springy feel of grass.

At this moment, Rudolf symbolically stepped forward and stood beside her.

"Listen, poetry and wine."

The president's voice was deep.

"Compared to grass, you need stronger lower body strength to 'grip' the ground when playing on dirt."

She pointed to the sand beneath her feet.

"The mud looks soft, but it's actually heavy. It will devour your strength like a swamp, and you have to be careful with every step you take."

“You might even experience a slight slip on it.”

"More than just speed, this tests your core balance and your ability to accelerate instantly on soft ground."

After a brief tactical instruction, Rudolf strode towards the finish line marker.

Turn around and look back.

The "emperor" stood against the wind, his brown hair flying wildly, the white highlights on his forehead dazzlingly bright in the air.

She flashed an incredibly cool smile at the newcomers at the starting line:

"Come, poetry and wine! Show this land what you showed me that day."

"That kind of talent that can tear everything apart!"

Upon hearing this, a fervent light flashed in Poetry and Wine's dark eyes.

She nodded and took a deep breath.

Then lower your center of gravity and assume the starting position.

Their toes dug deep into the sand.

"?!!"

A sharp whistle pierced the air.

"boom!"

Dust and sand flew everywhere.

Poetry and wine once again shot off like arrows released from a bow.

This time, she didn't just blindly rush in like she did yesterday.

Even though the mud beneath her feet was as heavy as iron, she still demonstrated amazing adaptability.

Every step landed precisely and powerfully.

As if trying to shatter the ground, Poetry and Wine firmly grasped the sand and then used the reaction force to propel their bodies forward.

The first kilometer.

Poetry and wine made me feel my body starting to heat up and become excited.

She was somewhat fascinated by that feeling of her blood boiling.

Her breathing was even, her eyes were bright as stars, and her feet gripped the mud with astonishing force.

Even on this extremely physically demanding mud track, her speed was just as impressive and sharp as it was on grass.

The surrounding scenery—white railings, distant trees, and a few scattered horse girls.

It rapidly stretched into blurry blocks of color in the field of vision.

Her long, black-and-white highlighted hair fluttered wildly behind her head, shining like a battle flag in the air.

We reached 1600 meters.

The exhaustion began to show, and the dragging sensation on the muddy ground became increasingly intense.

The pace of the poetry and wine slowed slightly, but the rhythm remained frighteningly steady.

Is this what running is?

'Is this... proof that I'm alive?'

She felt her heart pounding restlessly in her chest, as if it were about to leap out of her throat.

Feel the pleasure of muscle fibers tightening and then releasing.

A smile unconsciously crept onto Shi Yujiu's lips.

A joy akin to a tiger returning to its mountain.

Time passed, and sand and gravel flew everywhere.

The black and white figures moved freely back to back on the training field.

Soon, they passed the final bend, which marked the final sprint.

The last 400 meters.

The final moments of the racehorses' decisive race have arrived.

The once serene faces of poetry and wine now appear somewhat ferocious due to the extreme force exerted.

His jaw clenched, and the veins on his neck bulged.

She did not slow down.

P.S.: I'm building up a backlog of chapters; I'll start updating three times a day for a while from now on.

Newborn: Chapter 24 is a tribute to Prison Master.

At this critical moment when most female racehorses cannot avoid exhaustion and speed decline.

Poetry and wine made a crazy decision.

She did not respond to the cries of her body to slow down.

A desire to die affected her.

Poetry and wine chose to squeeze this body, which was already nearing its limit, even more cruelly.

Put your soul into your heart.

The arena began to resound with the roar of a boiling furnace, tearing the heavens and earth apart.

The burning sensation in his lungs was forcibly suppressed by his will, and his previously somewhat unfocused pupils suddenly contracted, focusing into a pinpoint.

She lowered her center of gravity, her long, black-and-white highlighted hair flying wildly behind her.

In that instant, his form was condensed to its ultimate perfection—

No longer a running girl, but a sharp, cold, black spear that gleams with a chilling light.

With an indomitable and resolute spirit, it pierced through the heavy sand and dust that filled the training field.

Just then.

Time and space seemed to slow down strangely in that instant.

The once noisy wind, the dull thud of horseshoes trampling the earth, and even the deafening pounding of one's own heartbeat all receded like the tide.

In a sensory world where poetry and wine are utterly lifeless.

A mysterious female voice, one she had never heard before, yet which inexplicably sent shivers down her spine, suddenly and clearly rang out from the depths of her mind.

"Whoosh! That's the light hooves of a golden goose soaring through the air."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an arrogant air of looking down on the world.

This is the roar of the land bestowed upon us by the Turkish Bayer.

As that voice faded, the world began to turn again.

Dust and sand flew everywhere.

It was as if a golden, high-voltage current had instantly pierced through every part of poetry and wine in a fraction of a second.

It's not pain.

A tingling, almost numbing, awakening sensation arises in poetry and wine, like a dormant volcano being ignited.

The legs, which had been heavy as lead due to lactic acid buildup, miraculously broke free from the shackles of pain at this moment.

Muscle fibers contract and tighten violently under the skin.

Kouye! ! ! !

Poetry and wine once again unleashed a terrifying power that was even more ferocious and domineering than when they started running!

The mud and sand exploded beneath her feet as she shattered the barrier called "Limit".

"drink--!!"

Poetry and wine let out a hoarse growl from their throats.

With only 400 meters left to go to the finish line.

Her speed has increased again!