Chapter 86: The Protector

If I were to put it in terms of an analogy—what is the ultimate form of strength?

Is it retiring from racing undefeated? Winning the Triple Crown? Setting a record in a G1 race? Claiming victory on the grandest stage with the strongest competitors? Surely, all of these could be considered the ultimate forms of strength.

And yet—the horsegirl standing before me, Le Moss (ルモス), is the only one in history to have won the Triple Crown two years in a row. The stage for her achievements was the Stayers' Triple Crown, a senior-level series limited to the most grueling long-distance races in the world.

No other horsegirl besides Le Moss has ever accomplished back-to-back Triple Crown victories. It is a feat unparalleled in the world. Of course, this is partly due to the fact that it was a senior-level competition with no age restrictions, but even so, achieving it twice consecutively can only be called a miracle.

Her first year was a series of overwhelming victories, securing the long-distance Triple Crown. The second year, she fought a fierce battle against another horsegirl, Ardross, and emerged victorious once more. Ardross herself would later go on to win 13 major races, primarily in the stayer division, place second in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, and even be named British Horsegirl of the Year—not to mention sharing the same trainer as Le Moss. But that’s beside the point.

"A-ah, um… Le Moss-san. It’s an honor to meet you."

"Mm-hmm! I’m happy too! I’ve been watching you since your junior days~"

"Huh?"

"I felt something… like fate. Ever since I happened to see your debut race… you know?"

Le Moss-san was oddly close, gripping my hand with both of hers. Her golden eyes gleamed brilliantly, and a well-shaped meteor streak hung over her bangs. She was about the same height as me—surprisingly small and cute for such a big name, I thought distantly. My mind was racing, but my body remained frozen from nerves.

"Wh…"

"Hm?"

"How do you know about me?"

"Like I just said~ Fate led me to you. It’s noisy here. I’ve got so much to talk about, so let’s go somewhere quieter. Come with me!"

"W-wah?!"

"Apollo, I’ll let your trainer know you’ve been whisked away… Don’t worry. Take your time."

"Wha—?! President Rudolf, please stop her!"

"Ahaha… Even I can’t hold her back."

"No way!"

"C’mon, let’s go!"

And just like that, I was pulled along by Le Moss-san’s overwhelming energy, dragged from the hall into a quieter corridor. Even though she had already retired from the Twinkle Series, the sheer vitality radiating from her was extraordinary. She probably still trained relentlessly—this must be why she was hailed as the jewel of the stayer world.

With a bright, charming smile, Le Moss-san turned to face me. The pounding in my chest wasn’t just from admiration—it felt like there really was some kind of destined connection between us. Something so special it made me believe in fate.

"—Apollo. Here, no one will bother us. Let’s talk, shall we?"

"Talk…? Uh, why are you in Japan?"

"Sightseeing!"

"But… Double Trigger said you’d meet for the first time during the Dubai expedition…"

"That’s one thing, this is another. I came to see you while combining a trip to Japan with the URA Awards. Seemed like a good opportunity!"

"O-oh…"

Her tone was light, but she was born and raised as a true noble. Her elder sister, Levmoss, won the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe and the 4000-meter G1 races (the Cadran and Ascot Gold Cup), while her younger sister, Sweet Mimosa, claimed victory in the French Oaks. To think all three sisters were G1-winning horsegirls… Their lineage was beyond imagination.

Indeed, despite her casual speech (albeit in English), her every gesture was elegant, and an air of royalty clung to her.

This contrast between her refined demeanor and the godlike intensity she displayed in races was part of her appeal. She devoured major races one after another with her devastating late-speed.

Her absolutely unrivaled acceleration in ultra-long distances and boundless stamina were legendary. Even now, her red-and-white racing silks remain the stuff of European long-distance racing lore—and today’s dress mimicked those very colors.

Faced with this celestial being, I had no idea what to say, so I figured I’d start by complimenting her dress—but then I hesitated.

Wait, what kind of half-hearted approach was that? Wouldn’t that be rude? Besides, someone like Le Moss-san must be used to praise. Maybe instead of small talk, I should ask something more meaningful.

If anything, I should ask for the real reason she came here. There had to be one, right? Crossing the ocean to visit Japan at the start of the year couldn’t just be a whim.

"Is that really all? The reason you came to Japan to see me?"

I decided to press further, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. I had no idea what her true intentions might be, but I had to push.

Le Moss-san’s large eyes widened in surprise, and she froze in place. A genuine "Huh?" slipped out before she fell completely silent.

…Judging by that reaction, she really had come just for sightseeing and to see me. I was dumbfounded. Was she really that much of a free spirit?

"Am I… bothering you by being here?"

"N-no, not at all! It’s just so surreal, I’m nervous!"

"Ahaha! Well, jokes aside… there is something I wanted to talk about."

"Oh, so there is?"

Her expression shifted rapidly as she raised a finger and began speaking.

"You were named not only the Best Classic Horsegirl but also the Horsegirl of the Year. First off, congratulations!"

"Thank you."

"Now then… do you know about the situation in Europe?"

"Yes, at least a little…"

"Excellent!"

While Japan simply awards the URA Prize, America has the Eclipse Awards, and Europe follows suit with the Cartier Awards, established in the same vein.

The Cartier Awards are divided into six main categories: Horsegirl of the Year, Best Junior Horsegirl, Best Classic Horsegirl, Best Senior Horsegirl, Best Sprinter, and Best Stayer. Since Europe has no dirt races, the Stayer category serves as a substitute.

"Then, you must know about Kayf Tara, the horsegirl who won Cartier’s Best Stayer award?"
"…Yes."

—Kayf Tara. The horsegirl who defeated the British Stayers' Triple Crown winner, Double Trigger, to claim this year’s G1 Gold Cup. She then went on to win the G1 Irish St. Leger, securing her title as Europe’s Best Stayer.

In reality, she was the strongest stayer of the late 20th century, winning the Cartier Best Stayer award three years in a row from 1998 to 2000. With two Gold Cup victories and two Irish St. Leger wins, her long-distance prowess and sustained dominance marked her as the rival who would stand in my way.

Clad in striking Godolphin blue silks, Kayf Tara’s most iconic weapon was—without a doubt, her explosive late-speed. Whether launching from the front or charging from dead last, her adaptability and confidence in winning from any position were unmatched.

Her mental fortitude, tactical flexibility, and stamina so vast that even 4000 meters seemed short—every aspect of her embodied the pinnacle of a stayer. Many believed no one could surpass her.

"So… what about Kayf Tara-san?"

"As you know, this year, Kayf Tara plans to race actively in Dubai and Europe. She’ll undoubtedly challenge the Stayers Million, and her schedule will overlap entirely with yours."

"Yeah, probably."

"Let me be blunt. Kayf Tara is a twisted, unpleasant horsegirl. She dismisses me outright and shows no respect to Double Trigger either. She’ll definitely provoke you, say things to hurt you—but even so… I want you to save Kayf Tara’s heart."

"…Excuse me?"

I was overwhelmed by the sudden flood of information. Kayf Tara-san being twisted? Provoking me? It was so far from my impression of her that I couldn’t process it.

From race footage, I’d noticed she rarely showed emotion even after victories, so I assumed she was just reserved…

—Save Kayf Tara’s heart?

It made no sense.

"Save her heart…? What do you mean? Did I hear that wrong?"

"No, you heard right."

"…………"

"I don’t know the details, but she’s… broken. Probably from being ground down by Europe’s Twinkle Series until she became like this. And it’s all because of the slow, steady decline of the long-distance racing scene. When you’re supposed to be the top stayer in Europe, yet your achievements aren’t met with the celebration they deserve… That alone is enough to wear anyone down."

The sudden realization of the gap between ideals and reality hits hard. The truth from Europe’s top long-distance horsegirl casts a dark shadow over my heart.

Had I just been oblivious, sheltered in Japan? By all accounts, Japanese fans are uniquely passionate—overseas horsegirls often speak of being enchanted by the roaring crowds. But in my eagerness to conquer Europe’s ultra-long G1 races, had I been ignoring the reality Double Trigger tried to warn me about?

—Europe’s long-distance racing is dying.

An inescapable truth.

If Le Moss, who lives there, says it, then it must be true. The thought is disheartening, but it’s a fact I have to accept.

Japan only has three long-distance G1s: the Kikuka-shō (Japanese St. Leger), the Tennō-shō (Spring), and the Arima Kinen. With only 20-30 G1 races total per year—and even fewer for senior-level competitions—Japan’s options are inherently limited compared to Europe.

But Europe, as a multi-national collective, has far more graded races… and that’s precisely why its long-distance prestige has been gradually eroded. One race after another, neglected—until we arrive at the present.

"Japan has the Kikuka-shō as its St. Leger, right? But in Europe… long-distance races have fallen so far out of favor that most countries’ St. Legers have been downgraded to mixed-class graded stakes. The final leg of the Triple Crown—can you believe it? No wonder Kayf Tara lost all motivation."

"…………"

"Do you know how many runners were in the Irish St. Leger she won? Seven. Just seven. The final G1 of Ireland’s Triple Crown, reduced to that… It’s no surprise Kayf Tara turned out like—… No, I’ll stop there. It’s too depressing."

The Triple Crown was meant to identify horsegirls with the precocious speed to win the Guineas, the stamina to conquer the Derby, and the endurance to triumph in the St. Leger. Once, the St. Leger was the most prestigious of the classics—but as top contenders began skipping it, its prestige crumbled.

Now, most aim for the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe or the British Champions Stakes instead. Even in Japan, many divert to the Tennō-shō (Autumn). The St. Leger’s decline is irreversible—reduced to a mere long-distance G1, or worse, an open-class race.

Germany’s St. Leger was demoted from G2 to G3 and opened to seniors. France’s Prix Royal-Oak followed suit. Italy’s St. Leger fell so far it was stripped of graded status entirely—relegated to a listed race. The only St. Legers still holding on are Japan’s Kikuka-shō and America’s Belmont Stakes.

"Sorry for rambling like this when we just met… And to a cute horsegirl like you, who’s about to come to Europe, no less."

"…No. It’s something I’d have to face eventually."

"…………Tu sais vraiment ce que ça veut dire? (do you really know what that means)"

"Huh? Oh, was that French? Could you—"

"Never mind. It’s getting late—I should go."

I didn’t catch her French, but as she turned toward the hall, I forgot about it entirely. Yet for a moment, her cheerful smile seemed to dim. I hurried after her.

"Chasing the dream of being Europe’s strongest stayer now… You’re quite the odd one, Apollo."

"…I suppose so. But isn’t it cool? Battling exhaustion over brutal distances! That last desperate sprint where you clash, burning every ounce of stamina! Even if stayers are treated like an afterthought now, my dream hasn’t changed! I’ll never give up on this glittering ambition!"

Le Moss-san froze mid-step. "Never?" she asked quietly, still facing away. I thumped my chest and declared, "Never!"

A heavy silence followed. Her ears and tail flicked faintly. I’d just sworn my dream to the queen of European stayers—with the weight of the word "never." But I didn’t regret it. I’d fought tooth and nail to reach this point, all for the chance to race on Europe’s stage.

"…I see. Well, I won’t stop you. I’ll be rooting for you with all my heart."

"Yes! I’ll do my best!"

"That’s why—let me say it again. Save Kayf Tara’s heart. Saving her will bring your true dream within reach."

—True dream.

My heart lurched, pounding unpleasantly.

"Kayf Tara’s spirit is shattered. She has no ambition left. Yet she’s still strong. And you, Apollo—you’ll understand her. I’m retired now… I can’t reach her. She’ll provoke you, insult you—but when she does, crush her in a race."

"That’s… a lot to ask."

"Ahaha, sorry, sorry! I had to warn you before you meet her…"

Scratching her head sheepishly, she shrugged and vanished into the hall, leaving behind one final plea:

"…Be like Brigadier Gerard and Roberto for the stayer world. No—maybe Papyrus and Zev fits better? Anyway, Apollo… Tear apart that suffocating, lonely atmosphere strangling European long-distance racing. Blow it all away with your foreign winds."

Alone again, I watched her silhouette disappear, the click of her heels fading into the distance.

"…Le Moss-san has it rough too, huh."