A Record-Breaking Departure

The effect was despairing.

The gap that had just been desperately clawed back to around seven horse lengths began widening again at a steady, constant pace that offered no hope whatsoever.

Seven and a half horse lengths—eight horse lengths—eight and a half—

Kitasan Black ran alone at the very front, her black figure seeming to transform into a streak of light that tore through space.

Between her and the struggling pack behind her lay a wide stretch of track, so empty it made one's heart clench.

That blank expanse felt like a chasm between two worlds of different dimensions.

The final hundred meters.

The gap forcefully broke past nine horse lengths.

Kitasan Black was already feeling crushing exhaustion.

Every part of her body was protesting. Her muscles ached, and her breathing burned.

Yet her senses had become like glass tempered ten thousand times over—cold, lucid, resolute, and clear.

At some point, the thunderous roar of the crowd from the outside world had vanished.

Only her own heartbeat, breathing, footsteps, and the Finish Line drawing ever closer ahead of her remained to make up her entire world.

There's still strength left—I can keep this up—and this is—

A thought stood as clear as a boulder beneath the water: This is the race a "ruler" should run.

The Finish Line rapidly expanded in her vision.

Her gaze remained fixed on that white line. There was no hesitation in her crimson eyes, no stray thoughts.

Her stride showed no sign of distortion, still steady, powerful, and efficient.

"Kitasan Black!!!"

The commentator was nearly screaming, his voice full of excitement and shock. "They clawed some ground back! But she's pulled away again!

"There's nothing they can do! Nothing they can do! This is Kitasan Black! This is Kitasan Black!

"Her speed hasn't diminished in