The gorilla brushes the dust off its fur with a mocking smile, showing the human in front of it the difference between them. It wants to prove that the attacks from a moment ago were nothing more than simple cuts, ones it can erase whenever it wants. The monster doesn’t care at all about the human’s healing ability— in the end, it will come out as the victor. It is the chosen one.

  I can clearly feel the gorilla’s Imra. It wants to assert its superiority, seeing me as an insect it can annihilate whenever it wants— all it takes is landing one solid hit, and this encounter will be over.

  I get excited when I feel those emotions. It’s been a long time since someone looked down on me like this— I can’t even remember the last time someone underestimated me. My body ignites with renewed flames, and I want to prove to this idiot the difference between us. I don’t give a damn if he was born as an anomaly— I’m a chosen monster in my own way too.

  All this time I’ve been fighting at my limit, careful not to wreck my body in the process. I’ve been deliberately restricting myself to a point where my body won’t suffer negative backlash. My brain does it to preserve my body, which could be torn apart; my mana, which would be drained as it flows to heal me; and my mind, which would be overstressed.

  Part of my mind knows it— I don’t need to go this far to finish this monster. Help is already on the way. I could win easily if I had Cokue and another Ruby-rank by my side, but I don’t care right now. I need to prove myself. My instincts tell me I have to fight this gorilla to the end, no matter if my body comes out hurt in the process.

  My body accumulates far more gravity than the safe limit. I increase it gradually so I don’t break myself, trying to control this power as much as possible. I feel every part of me tremble as mana surges through every inch of my body. My offensive and defensive constructs grow stronger as well.

  The gorilla looks confused— it has realized something changed. It noticed something different in me. “Too late, banana brain.” I teleport to its side, my right sword already on its way to its stomach. I catch it by surprise; the monster never expected me to be the first to attack at close range. Right now, I don’t care.

  My sword moves faster than before. The gorilla tries to intercept it with its arm but doesn’t make it in time. A massive, deep gash opens across its abdomen, and my other sword is already on its way to pierce near its chest. This time it manages to block my blade with its tail. Its eyes widen when it realizes the force of my attack has managed to crack its defenses a little.

  I don’t manage to pierce its tail— I only break the steel layer made of mana. Before, I hadn’t even come close. Now, at least I have a chance to deal some damage even when the monster manages to intercept my blows.

  I click my tongue for two reasons. First, that’s not enough damage to finish it quickly. Second, my body has suffered a bit from overexertion— I’ve burst some veins and suffered minor muscle tears. What matters is that I can recover as soon as it happens. In the end, the monster takes more damage than I do.

  Its tail tries to pierce my head, and I use one sword to block the attack. The blow that would have sent me flying several meters before doesn’t do that anymore. I can hold my ground— just a slight daze, but it’s manageable.

  Its massive hand tries to grab me. The gravity and electricity around me don’t let it move as fast as it wants, and parts of its arm are being charred. I have enough time to dodge its strike, but I can’t reposition— I have to use my other sword to block its second fist and duck again from its tail.

  This gorilla is still just as fast, and its strength is still above mine. I remain on the defensive most of the time, but now it’s different— my cuts are dealing more damage. My sword isn’t just empowered by gravity; my other three affinities wreak havoc for a fraction of a second whenever they make contact.

  I’m not getting out unscathed either. Small mistakes that wouldn’t matter on another day do matter today. The gorilla has managed to hit me twice with its tails. I’m surprised at how quickly this monster is growing with each exchange— its pattern is becoming a little harder to read, though it’s still a child from my point of view.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  If before I could classify it as a four-year-old in terms of experience, now it’s more like seven. It has grown tremendously in less than ten minutes. I can see in its eyes how focused it is on everything happening, its body moving better and better.

  I’ve improved too in this short time, though not as dramatically as the anomaly. Now my body can better withstand the backlash of my movements— gravity itself keeps everything in place. Thanks to this small progress, I’ve been able to increase the power of gravity.

  The gorilla is having fun— that stupid smile makes it clear. I’ve seen that face many times before. That manic grin is common among people who enjoy fighting someone stronger and breaking their own limits at the cost of their lives. I have the same face right now. In that sense, we’re no different.

  I spot a slight mistake in the positioning of its feet— it won’t have time to dodge my attack. Its arms are in an awkward position, and its tail is far enough away not to reach. My right sword falls vertically, cutting straight through its left eye and continuing downward.

  My danger sense activates automatically— I don’t have time to celebrate. I do everything I can to get out of there as hundreds of steel spikes, about fifteen centimeters long, shoot out of its body in all directions. I dodge some, use my swords to defend, and my own defenses do their job. In the end, only two sink into my right leg.

  We separate by several dozen meters. The spikes around it return to its body and float in the air— all except the two in me. The gorilla stares at me angrily, and a moment later all its wounds are healed, its cut eye restored as if nothing happened.

  I don’t stay still. Using my Imra, I pull out the steel spikes and heal my wound. The rest of my body is almost fully restored, at the cost of burning a huge amount of mana in this fight. I just inject more mana into the places that haven’t fully recovered.

  All of its constructs begin to dance around its body, and then something surprising happens. All the mana from the spikes sticks to its body, forming a completely silver armor around it— just like mine.

  “Stop copying me, damn it.” I curse under my breath. Now it’ll be even harder to break through its defenses with my swords. Metal mana is known for being extremely tough and resilient.

  “Hey, I don’t know if you understand me.” The gorilla stares at me. “I just want you to know— I’m a complete fighter. My swords aren’t my only way to attack.” I don’t give a damn if it can’t understand my language— I’ll make it understand through blows.

  I build a dozen Joyeuse around me. Normally I can create up to thirty in a blink, all at maximum power. But these are different. They carry far more compressed, swirling mana. If I create even one more, my mind won’t be able to maintain the construct— it might explode in my face.

  I’ve been through that before. It wasn’t pleasant at all. I felt like I could die— much of my face and torso were affected by the massive mana explosion. Luckily, I reinforced my brain, heart, and cube in time. My body rebuilt itself thanks to my life affinity and the Yin-Yang Law, but the process was very slow.

  My head is pounding, a constant buzzing fills my ears. If my mental ability were even slightly weaker, I wouldn’t be able to control so many constructs. The gorilla also creates massive steel spikes around itself. I can feel the reinforcement of some Laws and its Banner.

  I launch all my constructs without hesitation— it does the same. My Joyeuse easily shatter two of its constructs; the next blows weaken the rest enough that they can’t pierce its new steel armor. It only steps back a few paces from the impact.

  Not all my constructs hit— the gorilla dodged some, and others were destroyed. Neither of us dares to rest. It builds dozens of spikes again, while I stick to my plan of using fewer, but higher-quality attacks.

  We both move, dodging and attacking. We quickly realize how easy a target we become if we stay in one place. My constructs drop from ten to seven. The gorilla also commands fewer spikes— it’s slowly losing ground in this long-range battle.

  My sensory ability is crucial. I can hide behind trees or massive rocks and keep attacking without trouble. I always know where it is. For it, things are completely different— the gorilla relies only on its eyes and intuition.

  This constant awareness has tipped the balance in my favor. The massive steel plates covering its body give it better defense, but its agility and speed have dropped a little. It’s still hard to pierce such solid armor— only some of my attacks manage to deal serious damage.

  I’m not having a great time either. My mind begs for rest constantly— I’m pushing it to the limit to kill this gorilla.

  The anomaly roars, blasting its mana armor off its body. The plates turn into massive slabs floating around it, and it manipulates them to repel all my constructs.

  Once again, it uses that ridiculous time-affinity healing to return to normal— all its massive wounds vanish. This time is different. I don’t see it smiling anymore. It’s angry and focused on finding me. I can feel its mana pool being drained— and I’m in the same situation. We’re both spending an enormous amount of mana.

  I step out from behind a tree. We lock eyes. “Let’s see who the real monster is between the two of us, little monkey.”