68 - Chapter 12: Fortitude Does Not Give Up 10 ~Break Through the Cursed Third Corner!~
As she watched the race, Marianne's mind was dominated by numbers.
(55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60...)
Not just in horse racing, but in almost anything called a sport in modern Earth, there is hardly anything that does not involve numbers. Those who compete fight not only against other competitors, but also against established records and their own personal bests.
Specifically regarding horse racing, before the race, a horse's body weight, previous runs, and final gallops times are prioritized, while during the race, passing times and the final 3F (furlongs) are considered crucial. The former allows one to judge the horse's condition, while the latter directly relates to the development of the race.
In contrast, horse racing in this world is immature.
Despite being a tourism industry that involves an entire city and attracts over a hundred thousand spectators for today's main race, its quality has not yet left the realm of amateur grass races.
Therefore, concepts like passing times or the term "fastest final stretch" do not exist. That was the opening for Later, who was inexperienced as a jockey.
(61, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69... You did it, Rei. As planned, a 1000m passing time of 72 seconds. Ten seconds slower than the average passing time of the Arima Kinen. Thanks to the one in front making a huge escape, those behind are being far too cautious.)
Preparing for this race, Marianne, having heard that Fortitude was a front-runner, had given Later a specific strategy.
That said, it was not particularly difficult. The horse was already skilled at escaping in the first place. Giving a strategy that did not suit its running style at this stage would have been a mere stopgap measure. There was no way such a thing would work against the gathered powerhouses. Thus, it was better to use a method that leveraged its original characteristics. Therefore, she told him that if he positioned himself at the head or within the lead group, he should gradually slow down to save strength.
It is a tactic known as a saving-run escape.
There are several conditions for this to work, but first and foremost, the horse must possess the ability to both escape and outpace others.
She had confirmed this during the final gallops... or rather, it was more of a trial run for Later. It possessed a lightness befitting a lightweight breed and a stamina that was disproportionately high. With that, if he could catch his breath during the race, he could use those legs at the end.
Additionally, it was fortunate that there was a great catalyst to hide this. Yes, the existence of Twin Jet.
A typical "kamikaze" style front-runner, whose ruin is inevitable if one tries to keep up with them. As expected, Twin Jet took a massive lead and surged forward this time as well. Therefore, all the spectators and jockeys, except for a few, must have thought, another horse that escapes only to collapse midway has escaped again. And they likely thought Fortitude, who followed along, would also fail.
Thus, they played out a struggle for the lead during the dash immediately after the start, and as planned, Fortitude joined the lead group and gradually dropped the pace. Since two horses in front were escaping like idiots, he made the other jockeys believe that following them would lead to self-destruction.
In reality, since he had been gradually slowing the pace from around the backstretch to conserve stamina, the passing time was not that extreme. In the Arima Kinen, where the cream of the crop of Thoroughbreds compete, the average time is 62 seconds. Since this world is still immature, it is inevitable that it would be slower than that, but a ten-second delay is slow enough that it cannot be achieved unless intended.
As a result, Fortitude saved his strength, while the following horses were left in a state of suppressed anticipation. Some horses might notice midway, but the distance saved by escaping tilts the advantage in Fortitude's favor.
(The setup is excellent. Now...)
Everything humanly possible had been done. The progress was smooth. Now, all that remained was to kick away the off-board tactics of the pseudo-gambler next to them. And that would be achieved by Later and Latia.
(...I will simply crush the hands of this fake.)
No one yet knew of the anger boiling within Marianne.
●
While closing the distance with Twin Jet, who had already begun to tire from the early sprint, they rounded the second corner and entered the straight again.
The only time a front-runner can earn a distance cushion is from this straight to the next corner. After that, it only decreases unilaterally. Once they round the third and fourth corners, the followers will close the gap all at once aiming for the goal. After all, the final straight is shorter compared to other races. It is only 310 meters. Some jockeys might launch a long spurt from the third corner to maximize the horse's potential.
While balancing his own physical strength, Fortitude was gripped by another emotion.
Reiter.
"What is it?"
Be careful, soon.
"Is it coming?"
At Later's question, Fortitude hesitated slightly. He could not judge whether this strange sensation came simply from trauma or from biological instinct.
I don't know. I don't know, but it's prickly.
But he told him. Later, receiving the warning, nodded.
In fact, the attacks of the saboteurs often occur in the place furthest from the main stands... especially at the third corner. If they were to strike, he knew it would be at the next corner.
"I understand. Oh, Forti."
What?
"You don't have to dodge. Don't worry about it. No matter what happens, just look forward and run."
As a jockey, Later was inexperienced.
It was closer to a situation where he was being carried rather than riding. Over the past few days, he had managed to acquire the form of a monkey crouch using knowledge from his previous life, but in terms of pure skill, he was inferior to the point of being the lowest among all the jockeys in this race.
If Fortitude had been an ordinary horse instead of an Aria Horse, the race development would not have gone as smoothly according to the plan.
His role was only one thing. Needless to say, not to get in Fortitude's way. And.
"I won't let you become a riderless horse."
Yes...!
To cling to that back until the goal, even if it took sheer stubbornness.
●
Outside the third corner. A woman was watching the race from the shadow of a grove that served as a sound and wind barrier.
Because she wore a cloak and a hood, her detailed appearance was unknown. However, anyone could tell she was a mage from the staff in her hand.
The woman was originally a traveling mage. With no particular purpose, she had wandered through various countries alongside adventurers, but she had stepped into the gambling city, Berture, on a whim. She took an immediate liking to the city, which was as glamorous as the Imperial Capital, and stayed there for a while... and lost all her money.
The funds that would have allowed her to stay in a luxury hotel for several months dwindled day by day. Even though she tried to earn as an adventurer, there were no particular jobs to earn money in this area, which had good public order due to the effects of urbanization. Thus, she turned to gambling to increase her funds.
It was good at first.
Winning consistently at poker, she piled up gold coins to the point where she deluded herself into thinking she had a talent for it. Not knowing the term "beginner's luck," she doubled down, thinking she could quickly recover even if she started losing a little. From there, it became a doubling game of debt.
Having melted away all her money and being kicked out of the hotel, she was at a loss when... a man spoke to her.
There is a lucrative job...
Having been approached like that, she was now about to play a part as a saboteur.
It was indeed a lucrative job. Just by firing one spell and hitting the target, she would get one gold coin. Although it was still far from the amount she had lost, she decided to treat it as a painful tuition fee. Once she received the reward, the thought of quickly going to the next town and working again was somewhat depressing, but she forced herself to accept it as her own fault.
Returning her attention to the race, the designated horse was soon approaching the specified position. She began the incantation for wind magic.
And then.
"...Don't take this the wrong way."
Whether it was a pang of conscience for targeting an innocent horse and jockey, wind magic was fired along with a meaningless apology.
●
Fortitude's heightened sense of anxiety reached its limit.
Not by experience or theory, but instinct screamed. Malice was coming. At the same time, his eyes caught the flow of magic. The same flow of wind magic as that time.
The situation overlapped with two years ago.
Therefore, Fortitude tried to warn Later, but...
Rei...!
Despite his efforts, the fired wind magic struck the strap supporting the left stirrup with merciless accuracy, and Later lost his footing and balance.
●
Oh! Is there a gear trouble for jockey Later on number 15, Fortitude, who is currently in second place!? His body is being thrown violently outward!!
●
To resist the attacking centrifugal force, Later endured with both hands gripping the reins and the mane, and his right calf slightly hooked into the saddle. The left stirrup had already been torn away, and his flung-out left leg acted as a pendulum beneath Fortitude's belly.
(This hurts, hey! I'm not some circus acrobat...!)
Cursing in his heart, Later grit his teeth. Having suddenly taken a shock to his left leg, he understood it was a sniper attack by magic. Whether the opponent was skilled or not, they had fired magic targeting the stirrup along with Later's left leg and severed it. It seemed his leg was still attached, but from the stinging sensation and heat, he knew he was bleeding.
However, the current situation was more important than the extent of the injury.
Arima is a right-handed course. In other words, during the corners, centrifugal force is applied to the left, and if the left stirrup, which should be used to brace oneself, is destroyed, the body is thrown outward according to the laws of physics. In a split-second decision, he grabbed the mane, released the right stirrup, and hooked his calf into the saddle to endure, suppressing it in the form of a riding posture change.
If he had not made that decision, his body would have been thrown onto the turf, or he would have landed on both feet and been disqualified.
The race is still continuing. He is being allowed to continue. Fortitude is still running. Therefore, this is Later's moment of truth.
(Damn it...!)
Enduring with both arms, his right leg, and his abdominal muscles, Later resisted the centrifugal force.
If he fully unleashed the magic circulating through his body and applied physical reinforcement, he could recover immediately, but doing so would be a rule violation. While it is accepted for horses to use physical reinforcement as it cannot be helped, the management monitors jockeys with dedicated magic tools. If he circulated magic here, a disqualification ruling would be issued instantly.
Faced with unreasonable laws of physics, he had to resist using only his own muscles.
(Fine! I'm a pro when it comes to riding things! Don't underestimate me...!!)
Later was inexperienced as a jockey. He was strictly within the realm of an amateur.
However, it was different when it came to handling vehicles.
As long as this other world is under physical laws similar to those of his previous Earth, the speed of a horse... that is, exceeding 60 km/h, is a speed he is well acquainted with.
Yes, for him, a truck driver, that speed and centrifugal force were things he had always managed.
Because the vehicle body is large and because it carries goods, the roll generated by a large truck during a turn is incomparable to that of a passenger car. It might be fine for a simple intersection on a local road, but on mountain highways, for example, the Shuto Expressway laid out as if slipping between buildings, or the needlessly long junctions of interchanges, one frequently faces high-speed corners.
Especially regarding the sharp corners of the Shuto Expressway, it is not as simple as just slowing down. If one slows down rapidly on a highway, it induces accidents for those following. Unlike passenger cars, re-acceleration is difficult, and with a truck that fills most of the lane with its width, in order to turn safely and without affecting the goods while not slowing down more than necessary, one must manage the roll of the vehicle... in other words, the centrifugal force.
Later did not have academic knowledge like Geoglyph. He was not deeply versed in trivia like Marianne. He only knew Newton-sensei when it came to physics. But he was a man who had learned mechanics with his body and in the field.
(Not yet... not yet... not yet...!)
And now.
Near the end of the third corner. Later endured purely for the sake of the coming moment. His right calf, hooked into the saddle due to the centrifugal force acting to the left, felt like it was about to cramp, and the grip strength of both hands, clutching the reins and mane, was screaming.
The girth had already begun to shift, and he did not know when the saddle would rotate around the horse's body and his only footing would become useless.
(Hurry! Come quickly...!!)
Later waited impatiently. For the moment the suspension bottoms out and recovers.
In the context of this race, it is the brief straight transitioning from the third corner to the fourth. That is, the apex of the corner. Only at that moment is the applied centrifugal force at its minimum.
Once that moment came...
"---Grit, your teeth...!!"
After that, he would ride again using only the muscles of his entire body.
●
Oh! Jockey Later! He has ridden again from a desperate posture change! What incredible fighting spirit! The management's ruling is... safe! It's safe! He actually recovered from that position using only muscle strength without using magic!! The race continues, it continues!!
●
"Huh?"
Seeing Later recover even after the stirrup was cut by wind magic, the woman mage for a moment did not understand what had happened. She had not held back. As instructed, she had cut the target stirrup. She should have fulfilled her role. And yet, he did not fall or get disqualified.
(It would be a problem if they complained that the request failed! I have no choice, one more...!)
Though she was frustrated, she thought it was better than having the payment withheld, and just as she was about to start the incantation for wind magic again.
"Gah!?"
The woman mage was knocked unconscious by a non-attribute magic spell to her head.
●
On the roof of the main stands, Latia watched the result of her sniping in a standing firing posture.
"Beautiful..."
The professional who had fulfilled her role blew softly on the muzzle.
Even though no gunpowder smoke came out because it was a magic gun, for some reason, it looked strangely stylish.
●
Cheers erupted for Fortitude's jockey, who had recovered just before falling. Hearing this, Nid snorted softly.
(Tch. Useless... You should have put in one more hit.)
To make it easy to cut the lizard's tail, he had used a traveling mage who was desperate for money. Judging that her role was fulfilled, there was no second strike. Nid thought she was just greedy for money, but in reality, she had simply been silenced by Latia's counter-snipe.
(Well, whatever. With that kind of escape, they won't last until the end anyway.)
He had positioned her just in case, but the horse was originally the second-to-last favorite. He thought they could not win in the final stretch and decided to watch the result.
Yes, even at this point, he did not realize.
The true intent of the strategy Marianne had given Fortitude through Later.
●
Reiter!?
Fortitude, understanding by sensation that the center of gravity on his back had returned, shouted instinctively.
"I told you to just look forward and run, you idiot! No matter how hard I try, it's not a competition if you stop!!"
Y-yes!
He had ridden again, but he could not use the monkey crouch as he did at the start. The left stirrup was severed and lost, and due to the forced posture, the saddle had shifted along with the girth. As a result, the right stirrup had also moved to a strange place. He had no choice but to cling to Fortitude as if straddling a motorcycle.
Locking Fortitude's back with the inner thighs of both legs, Later shouted while burying his face in the mane, muttering in his heart, "Ah, so fluffy. This is so healing..." Does a furry fan not read the situation?
"Listen well, Forti! My comrade destroyed the unreasonable! I overturned your unreasonable! In other words, there is nothing left to get in our way!"
In any case, there was not much an amateur jockey like Later could do for Fortitude. He was merely the weight allowance prepared to follow the rules. And that role had now been fulfilled to the minimum extent.
Therefore.
"I've opened the path for you! Pathetic excuses like not being able to run like you used to won't work anymore, got it!? So run! Laughing Shock King!!"
---Yes!!
The true value of the horse once called the "Laughing Shock King" is now being questioned.
●
As if relieved after witnessing that trouble, Rotringen moved the bit while taking a short breath.
That intention was transmitted to the jockey through the reins.
"Ringen..."
The jockey who received it also sensed it. The third corner was almost over. The final straight of Arima is short. If they were to overtake the lead group before the start of the final corner, now was indeed the best timing.
Enough strength had already been saved.
The flash-like final spurt, the reason why the "Absolute" is "Absolute," would surely fascinate the spectators again today.
"I understand. Let's go...!"
The heart roared, the muscles neighed, the gear shifted, and Rotringen slammed a violent acceleration into the turf.
And now, the "Absolute Emperor" reveals his true essence.
To be continued next week.