I can clearly see how nervous the guard is every time he looks toward the ground, but he overcomes his fear and gathers the courage to give me the correct directions during our flight. Apparently we’re close—we should reach them in less than a minute, and in total it has taken just under ten minutes.

  It’s been lucky that we could move so fast through the air and that the monster appeared so close to the territory. It must be very strong; I’ve never seen a guard so shaken just remembering it. From the description, it seems to be a monster very similar to a gorilla, much taller, but far thinner and more agile.

  I feel an incredible amount of mana coming from a few hundred meters ahead. I land a bit earlier to let the guard go—if I take him with me he’ll only be a burden, and I won’t be able to focus on fighting while also protecting him. The man thanks me, gives a formal salute, and runs back toward the town to report that I’m here.

  I don’t even need to move to reach the battlefield—they’re already heading in my direction, and a couple of seconds later I see Cokue’s figure, covered in blood. His left leg is missing, and his right arm is hanging by a thread, completely shattered.

  Before I can intervene, both of them notice me. I release my Imra to draw their attention. Their expressions couldn’t be more different—Cokue looks relieved to see me, but also worried, while the gorilla looks irritated and confused.

  Cokue takes advantage of the moment and moves as fast as he can toward me. The gorilla stays where it is, watching us cautiously, and I can see slight wounds healing on its golden skin. This monster doesn’t just have different skin—it has a pair of long tails that look extremely strong and resilient, and its shoulders are wide and powerful. The guard was right: this gorilla looks incredibly athletic and agile.

  “Thank you… I thought I was going to die.” Cokue pulls out a very dark red potion from his storage bracelet and drinks it immediately. His body starts healing the smaller wounds right away, and his missing leg is the first thing to begin regenerating.

  “Is it that strong?” I ask without taking my eyes off the monster in front of us. I can definitely feel a powerful presence—every part of my body is screaming that this won’t be easy. My body is already fully reinforced by my abilities, and even gravity is pressing down over the entire area. I imagine that’s why the gorilla is being cautious.

  “Too strong. It’s an anomaly.” Cokue’s words are all I need to understand the situation. Everything makes sense now—seeing a ruby rank so badly injured is no surprise anymore.

  Facing an anomaly is extremely dangerous. They’re special monsters born to become kings among their kind. They come into the world with countless advantages, predators among predators. Every anomaly is destined to reach grade six if nothing unusual happens.

  “Shit.” That’s all I can say as I hurriedly create several Joyeuse to block incoming steel spikes. Our constructions crash into each other—mine shatter after holding for just a moment, but at least they have enough strength to deflect and slow each of the spikes. The monster keeps watching us, as if that had only been a welcoming attack.

  “We have to kill it now. It’s a fairly new anomaly—if we let it grow for a few more months, we’ll be in serious trouble.” His words give me hope. If it’s a newly born grade-four anomaly, I have a good chance of killing it.

  I glance at the man beside me. His leg has recovered, but his body is still covered in wounds and his battered arm looks like it could break at any moment. “Cokue, go get help. I’ll try to kill it or at least exhaust it as much as possible while you come back with reinforcements.” In optimal condition he’d be a huge help, but right now he’d only slow me down.

  It’s better to let him go for help—he’s extremely fast thanks to his wind magic. I can see him make a face, clearly wanting to refuse to leave me, but in less than a second a storm of emotions crosses his expression and he finally lifts into the air. “You’re not allowed to die. I’ll bring back every ruby rank I can find.”

  The gorilla roars, the sheer power of its voice almost bursting my eardrums. If I had reacted even a millisecond later to cover my ears, I would have lost my hearing. The monster creates several metal spikes again, launching them at Cokue. I form multiple ice swords to intercept each of the gorilla’s constructions.

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  “I’m your new dance partner, little monkey.” The monster looks at me with clear rage. “Let’s see who’s destined to go further.” I raise gravity to its maximum. My twin swords glow blue, black, and yellow. My body is reinforced to its limit, and finally a fierce emotion surges through me.

  The monster coats several parts of its body in steel mana, especially its tails. We both dash forward—our bodies vanish from the force of the acceleration and reappear face to face. A massive arm swings toward my head; I duck just in time to avoid it, and the wind from the blow almost knocks me off balance.

  My right sword aims for its abdomen, but the gorilla blocks with its left arm covered in steel. The impact makes me curse under my breath—this damn gorilla is tough. It felt like striking a very weak version of Ruddo.

  I shift left with a short hop and try to wound its arm with my free sword. I change the trajectory of my weapon to defend myself as a tail shoots straight toward my head. I manage to deflect the impact but get sent flying several meters back.

  That’s when I feel the difference in strength. I intercepted its tail at the perfect moment to withstand the blow—but I still went flying. I leap sideways to avoid a massive steel spike bursting from the ground. The gorilla gives me no time to reposition—its fists and tails come at me relentlessly.

  I manage to stay on the defensive with great effort. Its strength completely surpasses mine, and its speed is almost the same. With two tails, it has more ways to attack me—but it lacks one crucial thing: years of combat experience. Cokue was right—this gorilla is a fairly new anomaly.

  My swords hum with every exchange of blows as I slowly retreat, searching for an opening to strike. I don’t mind staying on the defensive.

  My arms are being battered with every hit, my tendons and skin tearing as I withstand the direct impacts. They aren’t serious injuries—I can recover from them faster than a blink—but that only proves how destructive its power really is.

  The gorilla rushes to exploit an obvious gap in my defense. I left that opening several times, and only on the fourth did it finally take the bait. I dodge its arm, predict the path of its tail, and my sword manages to carve a slash above its left ribs.

  For a moment I thought I wouldn’t be able to pierce its defenses. Its Imra is tightly focused on every inch of its body, and its fur is incredibly tough. If I had been using a lower-quality weapon, I wouldn’t have been able to cut it at all.

  The gorilla ignores the wound and keeps coming. Its tails grow faster and more agile, and its fists wreak havoc throughout the forest around us.

  Trees are shattered by the impact of its punches; weaker ones are blown away just by the force of its strikes, and the earth beneath its feet cracks with every heavy step.

  I’ve dodged hundreds of blows in just a few minutes. My brain is at its limit and my life hangs by a thread. One single mistake could cost me everything. I doubt I’d die from a single hit—the real problem is having the time to reposition or defend myself afterward.

  The gorilla doesn’t care about missing. I can see it in its eyes—this monster is smarter than it looks. It understands the entire situation. It seems to be as intelligent as Glia, we just can’t communicate.

  Wounds start appearing across its body. I get used to the speed of its tails and the power of its blows, adjusting my fighting style to increase my chances of dealing damage. Cuts spread across its fur. It tries to coat itself in steel just before each strike, but it fails every time.

  In less than two more minutes its body is completely covered in wounds, thin red threads of blood running through its fur. Most of them are shallow, only a few have pierced the skin, and in a couple I even managed to touch bone.

  The gorilla frowns and creates several steel spikes around us, launching them at point-blank range. I dodge almost all of them, but one pierces my left arm. The monster appears at my side, its massive fist already too close for me to use my swords. I take a split second to activate my movement ability—just enough time to still take part of the impact’s force.

  My sword falls to the ground. My arm is battered—broken bones, torn skin, blood pouring from multiple cuts. At least it’s the same left arm that took the steel spike. I have to admit, the impact of its constructions is nothing to ignore.

  The gorilla isn’t in good shape either—both of us are injured. I smile at the monster and begin healing my arm. I recover at a visible pace, skin, bone, and tissue restoring themselves until they’re good as new. I’m ready for the next round.

  The gorilla’s eyes widen in surprise. Then it smiles too—and a bad feeling crawls up my spine at that terrifying grin. I watch as its body heals all its wounds, every single cut I inflicted vanishing in an instant as if they had never existed.

  This isn’t normal healing magic. I know there are many affinities that allow regeneration, but most aren’t as effective as life affinity.

  I mentally review the descriptions I’ve studied and realize it immediately. The lack of blood on its fur gives me a clear idea of its type of recovery, and the speed confirms it.

  This monster healed itself with time affinity. That’s a problem.