There are many Laws in the world that stand above others—categorized as superior Laws. Their names remain the same in each person’s status; what matters is their performance when used. If one is like a bicycle that helps you move faster, the other is a bicycle with a motor pushing you with every pedal.

  Most of these Laws are related to mythical beings or concepts with great meaning from my past life. I can take my Yin Yang Law as an example; I’ve compared it many times with other Death Laws, and it has never been weaker—not a single one has come close to being on the same level.

  My affinity for Death or Life, when enhanced by this Law, far surpasses anything I’ve seen so far. I can annihilate other Death Laws with ease using mine, and I can heal much faster than other Life-users. The difference has been very noticeable throughout these years.

  Among those special Laws, some are even more exceptional—usually all those related to powerful mythological beings. Dragons are one of them. They are among the most majestic beings in my previous world and in this one—monsters that have inspired terror throughout history, thinking creatures impossible to defeat in a one-on-one fight.

  Seeing one of these beings is synonymous with destruction and ruin. Unless at least four very powerful Obsidian-rank individuals gather, there’s no way to repel it. Killing one requires at least double that number.

  Some of them have also been symbols of prosperity and salvation—they are, after all, thinking creatures. They only cause destruction because they want to. Among the dragons who have left some benefit or legacy for humans, there are some with gravity affinity. I hope I inherited this Law from one of them.

  I stare at the wall inside my cube for a moment. When I turn, I see the Banner with a dragon symbol, and I can’t help but wonder if they’re connected. Maybe this was destined long ago, and I’ve only now awakened it.

  My whole body is covered in sand… I throw myself into the artificial sea to wash off every grain, surfacing naked as I came into the world. Even in something so simple I can already feel the difference—floating or flying has never been this easy. It feels like walking or running; I could do it endlessly and even perform maneuvers. My control over the affinity has increased dramatically.

  Next I try out my Gravity Surge. Gravity mana moves fluidly around my body, forming the ability the moment I think of it, and the first strike is launched. I can’t help but frown after that first punch—my arm dislocated from the impact after just one blow.

  Did the power really increase that much? I heal immediately and fly off to perform some quick exercises. With every movement, some part of my body ends up damaged. Bones, over-stretched skin, torn muscles…

  The sheer force behind each strike reminds me of the early days of this ability. Back then I couldn’t properly control strength, precision, or timing; now the only issue is the sheer amount of power.

  I don’t give up after the first rounds; slowly I adapt my body to each strike. As the power stabilizes, the injuries become fewer and fewer. During training I realize something important—something I never would’ve considered in a normal situation.

  What if I unleash a strike powerful enough to break my arm, and at the same time use gravity to hold everything in place? The theory sounds promising. The result… isn’t.

  After increasing the power of the first punch, I end up with a disastrous outcome—my arm is almost destroyed and a bone is sticking out. I slice part of my arm off with a Joyeuse and regenerate it quickly.

  “The theory should be right… it just needs practice.” As stubborn as always, I decide to try again later. First I have to get used to this new level of power in each strike; once I feel comfortable, I’ll test the new variant in my head.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Nightfall came at some point during training, but I didn’t care and kept practicing until I felt comfortable. I’m on an island where no one can bother me—better to make the most of my time. An intense training routine is in motion!

  Days passed with the same rhythm: eat, sleep, and train. “Finally… it took longer than I thought.” I talk to myself. Lately I’ve been speaking aloud too much; without a partner, I feel the need to say something, even if it’s just to myself.

  Now my body has fully adapted to the new use of gravity. My brain knows the exact amounts needed for each movement and situation. I’ve been training like a madman, all day, every day. I’ve memorized everything, and it’s now automatic.

  I can even use more power than on the first day. My body has improved bit by bit over time. My muscles, bones, flesh—everything has absorbed the Gravity Law, allowing me to progress rapidly.

  “It’s time to try it again.” My mind injects a bit more gravity mana for the strike, and at the same time I command gravity to hold every part of me in its proper place.

  A huge smile forms on my face. My wrist is completely destroyed and shattered by the impact, but I managed to keep most of my arm intact after the first blow. My theory wasn’t entirely wrong—now, with renewed confidence, I dive into training my great discovery.

  It takes nearly two sunsets to feel comfortable using gravity this way. One gravitational force boosts the exact points needed for more power and speed; that same force then stabilizes each part of my body.

  Right now I can do it with every movement during training. The strain has become minimal, and the mana cost isn’t an issue. By reusing part of the gravitational mana from the strike, I only need a small amount to keep my body intact.

  “Time is passing too fast…” My hair has grown a lot in these three weeks; it feels like months without a haircut. Time is truly flowing differently.

  My height has also increased, and my build now feels like that of an adult; bodies in this world mature much faster. I solve the long-nail problem with my swords—nobody sliced off their fingers using an improvised nail clipper.

  My strike strength must be at least 30% higher than before. I’m still a bit far from a strength-specialized Advanced Ruby, but I could fight any Ruby at this point.

  I decide to test my other gravity abilities before continuing my training. I must force myself to set Gravity Surge aside for a moment—I’m becoming addicted to watching the skill level rise. It’s already at level 6.

  The Crushing Zone has expanded; I can now control a wider distance, and the weight certainly increased a bit. I play with the ability for several hours and can give a partial verdict—without opponents to test it on, I’m not completely sure.

  The range has grown a lot, though the raw power within that area isn’t drastically bigger. But there’s something I have noticed—a major change. When I focus the zone within just a few meters around me, its power increases by nearly 10% compared to before. I consider that a great achievement.

  My imprisoning ability should also have changed—since it’s based on gravity, I can see that its formation speed is faster; it now takes a few milliseconds less. Again, without opponents I can’t properly test how strong it is now, but I’m certain of one thing: it’s not weaker than before.

  I focus on training my enhancement ability for at least fourteen more sunsets—I don’t want to injure myself fighting someone powerful. The slightest mistake could kill me in this kind of situation.

  My sword swings in a perfect path; that same movement becomes the start of the next, another flawless slash aimed at the invisible opponent in front of me. My body and mind move in harmony with each movement. There is no wasted energy or mana; everything is calculated to keep me in an advantageous position and ready to respond to any situation.

  My mind considers every possible scenario, and my body acts accordingly. At some point my instincts have adjusted to my fighting style. I’m not only mentally focused on my opponent’s movements; I also have a small space reserved to respond to unexpected actions.

  When the artificial sun sets again, I let my body fall from several meters high, activating my flying ability only when I’m less than a meter from the ground. My sudden stop sends sand flying everywhere.

  “Level 9…” I’ve gained eight levels through hard training and changing my perspective on the skill. Now it’s more complete, more polished. It’s like an adult who has years of experience driving in a big city; before this, I was like a teenager learning to drive his first car.

  I decide to pause the gravity training. If I have time, I’ll return to it later. There is something more important right now. “I need to at least turn one pseudo-Law into a full Law.” With some inspiration, it might even be possible to do all three—they’re all just half a step away from transcending into their complete versions.