Chapter 90. Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe Part 5
The Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe was the ultimate stage. Even the prestigious European teams that hadn't fielded strong contenders this year had brought their rising stars to Longchamp, eager to let their most promising Uma Musumes absorb the atmosphere of Europe's premier race firsthand.
As Tokai Teio and Shuta An embraced on the turf, Trainer Sule quickly covered the eyes of Sakhee standing beside him in the stands.
"Trainer! I'm not a child! What's happening that I can't see?!"
Sakhee grabbed Sule's wrist and pulled it away. However, she didn't linger on the couple's celebration. Instead, her eyes remained glued to the massive jumbotron.
"A four-length gap..." she murmured, her grip tightening on her trainer's wrist. "When I step onto this track in the future, I have to win by an even wider margin."
Hearing her resolve, Sule's trainer instincts immediately kicked in.
"If you want to win like Tokai Teio, you can't afford to slack off in any of our upcoming sessions."
"I want to surpass her!" Sakhee turned to face him. "So please, train me even harder when we get back to Dubai!"
"I won't increase your workload." Sule said, shaking his head to reject the request. "You aren't physically ready for high-intensity training yet."
He looked back out at his colleague on the turf.
"There is a core tenet of Trainer Shuta's philosophy that I deeply respect: an Uma Musume must undergo training appropriate for her current developmental stage. Forcing the issue might yield rapid short-term progress, but disaster invariably lurks behind that intoxicating success."
He looked back down at the most promising talent in his stable.
"So no, the intensity won't change. But for the regimen I have designed for you, I expect absolute, one-hundred-percent focus."
"You have it!"
Sakhee nodded vigorously. She knew she had a habit of losing focus during practice—not out of a dislike for training, but simply because Sule's current program hadn't required her absolute best effort to complete. But after witnessing today's masterclass, a clear goal had been set in her heart. She intended to execute every future drill flawlessly.
Nearby, André Fabre stood among the numerous Uma Musumes he had brought to cheer for Subotica. When Tokai Teio hit the 200-meter mark, a stunned silence had fallen over the French stable—except for one Uma Musume standing closest to him, a girl on the verge of her official debut.
"Oh-oh!"
Completely breaking the somber mood, the exceptional young Uma Musume patted her trainer's shoulder.
"Trainer! Can I become even stronger than her?!"
Fabre had been watching Subotica with a wry, defeated smile, but hearing the question, he composed himself and nodded with absolute seriousness.
"You can, Peintre Celebre."
"Good!" Peintre Celebre beamed, entirely satisfied. "Then you'd better draft an even better training plan for me when we get back."
She smiled, gripping the grandstand railing so tightly the metal groaned under her fingers.
"By the time I'm ready for this stage, Tokai Teio will probably be retired."
Her expression shifted into a predatory grin.
"But it doesn't matter. I can just go to Japan. Team Sadalsuud—I will defeat whoever they field on their own home turf!"
Fabre listened to her bold declaration and shook his head helplessly. Although Peintre Celebre hadn't debuted yet, her prestigious lineage meant even he had little room to negotiate with her. If she had decided she was going to Japan, as long as she didn't lose interest, she would absolutely make it happen.
If Peintre Celebre manages to win the Japan Cup in the future, I suppose that would count as a victory over Shuta An.
The French trainer reasoned. Comforted by the thought, his mood—which had soured considerably following Subotica's helpless defeat—improved significantly.
What Fabre failed to notice was a younger Uma Musume sitting directly behind him, whose eyes had lit up at Peintre Celebre's audacious vow.
Everyone talks about how amazing Team Sadalsuud is, but she's right! We should beat them here, and then go to their home turf and beat them again!
The young girl crossed her legs, already lost in grandiose fantasies of the future.
"What are you doing?" the woman sitting next to her scolded, lightly tapping the girl's head. "Sit up straight, Rail Link!"
"Ugh—"
The little Uma Musume pouted, rubbing her head.
While some Uma Musumes had their fighting spirit ignited, and others set entirely new career goals, the impact of the race extended beyond the athletes.
Across the stadium, near the restricted access zones, stood a man nearing thirty who had traveled from Ireland specifically for this race. Hidden behind dark sunglasses, his silent, focused posture indicated he was watching Shuta An and Tokai Teio on the track below.
"So this is the world of a true Trainer."
The man murmured to himself.
He had recently secured an official position at the Ireland Tracen Academy. Prior to that, he had operated without a license, guiding Uma Musumes primarily in entertainment-oriented steeplechases. However, his uncanny ability to drastically improve his runners' performances had eventually drawn the attention of the Ireland URA Association.
He had initially feared prosecution. To his immense relief and surprise, the current Student Council President of the Ireland Tracen Academy had intervened, turning a potential legal crisis into a golden opportunity. He subsequently passed the rigorous licensing exam and joined the Academy as a formal Trainer—a reality he had never previously dared to dream of.
Having just started the job, his stable was currently empty. His trip to Longchamp was born of a simple desire to witness Europe's greatest turf race with his own eyes. Fortunately, he had been treated to an unforgettable spectacle.
"I want to be like him." the Irishman whispered, his right hand adjusting his tie. "To win a world-renowned major race, and stand on that turf soaking in the applause of the world."
He turned away from the railing.
"I'm heading back tomorrow. It's time to start recruiting."
(FYI, Sakhee win margin was 6 length in the Arc. Peintre Celebre win Arc in 1997. Rail Link also win the Arc)