The eighth wave begins with something unexpected; I only sense five monsters. Three of them are the same ones I’ve been killing since round one, another is their bigger brother, and the last one is just as large as the biggest—but he carries something different in his hands: a massive bow.

  As soon as I finish charging my defensive skills, an enormous and powerful arrow shoots straight toward me. I have to use a large amount of gravity mana to force it off course. I barely manage to change its trajectory in time and only have to lean my body slightly to avoid losing an arm.

  Another arrow follows immediately. I construct several ice spheres with concentrated gravity mana at their core. The construction slows its power and speed, and the gravity at the center alters its path enough to deflect it.

  This new trick is something I learned on the previous floor. By combining both abilities, I can get better results at the cost of some mana. I can also do the opposite—if I want, gravity can pull objects toward the point where it explodes, slowing down ranged attacks enough for me to simply dodge by moving.

  On the previous round, I ran a small experiment by pouring a massive amount of mana into a sphere. When it detonated several dozen meters away, I felt it suck everything around it inward. Several monsters lost body parts as they were dragged in, and everything ended inside a grotesque ball of mixed materials.

  My body was almost dragged toward the center of that ability as well. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if I were caught inside my own technique.

  I construct several spheres—eight of them in total. That’s the limit if I want to keep gravity stable while fighting in close combat at the same time. Controlling the gravity affinity has never felt this difficult; I can feel that if I add even one more, it could cause a massive problem. If one becomes unstable, it would begin pulling the others in and trigger a chain explosion.

  These spheres could become one of their final versions. I could do the same with my Joyeuse if I wanted. I’m combining gravity to compress the ice-type mana even further, increasing the raw power of the construction while also increasing its instability. It’ll take me weeks to get used to using them properly.

  This archer monster isn’t making things easy for me. His arrows are faster and come far more frequently. It feels as if he himself is a living weapon; the attacks never stop raining down, colliding with my ice spheres nonstop.

  My body can’t remain still either. The other four are doing everything they can to keep me occupied while their friend in the back searches for different angles. Sometimes the arrow suddenly changes direction midair, forcing me to use the nearest spheres to protect myself.

  I dodge the claws of the biggest werewolf by crouching, block another pair of claws with my swords, and with a precise movement of my legs I reposition myself to block two more incoming slashes. One of them belongs to the largest werewolf and pushes me back due to my unstable footing. An arrow is already flying toward my torso and is stopped just in time.

  He can fire arrows as fast as I can build ice spheres—sometimes I even need to use two constructions just to stop a single one of his shots.

  I decide to accept injuries in exchange for injuring them. Several claws manage to tear through parts of my body and clothing, but in return, cuts begin appearing on the smaller werewolves. Little by little, I drain not only their stamina, but also their mana. All of us are pushing ourselves to the limit.

  Finally, one of them dies—just moments after I almost lose an arm in the exchange. My wounds heal as soon as they appear; I’m letting myself get injured at the moments that benefit me most, when I can retreat long enough to recover.

  Another one falls, and a few seconds later the last small one dies as well. Even the archer’s mana is running dry now, and his arrows have lost much of their power. The big one has managed to heal all of his wounds, but he couldn’t reconstruct the hand that was torn off, and his blood loss is pushing him to the brink of death.

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  The massive werewolf collapses shortly after. With more room to maneuver, I manage to use two spheres to strike him from behind. Even though I caught him by surprise, he still managed to defend himself—but my sword pierces straight through his brain, ending his life.

  His archer companion falls shortly afterward. His arrows can no longer keep up with my new ice spheres, and he is torn apart by my constructions. His right arm and part of his torso are the first to be caught—everything freezes on contact before gravity pulls it in and shreds it apart. His body collapses lifeless to the ground.

  Almost seventy percent of my mana—that’s what it cost me to defeat these five. I drop to the ground as the notification echoes in my head. It’s time to rest.

  “The ninth wave of monsters is beginning!” I open my eyes when the notification resounds in my mind. I don’t know exactly how much time has passed since the previous round—my watch doesn’t work here, and it’s hard to tell how long I slept. What matters is that my mana pool is full.

  “Ten this time?” I can sense eight of the smaller ones, their bigger brother leading the group as always, and the last one is just as large as him—but slimmer. This one doesn’t seem to fight at a distance.

  My assumptions are immediately confirmed. Before I can even joke or say anything, the last monster charges straight toward me. In a single step, it crosses an incredible distance—that movement skill is clearly shadow-based. I block the strike without being pushed back. Its power is something to be reckoned with, but more than that, its speed is terrifying.

  As soon as I block its first attack, its claws are already trying to tear parts of me apart. I can’t follow its movements with my eyes; I have to rely entirely on my Personal World and my instincts to track every motion. Within seconds, we exchange dozens of blows. That brief time is enough for its companions to arrive and surround me.

  The gravity around me is at maximum output. The smaller monsters struggle to move, and their larger brother has also lost much of his speed. The problem is the new one—it’s still unbelievably fast! I can’t finish off the others because of him.

  At this moment, I hold the advantage in speed over the other nine, but I can’t land the finishing blow because this last monster won’t allow it. Its attacks are nearly impossible to follow with normal vision, and somehow, gravity seems to affect it less than the others.

  Could it be using Imra? I can definitely sense something different. It feels like something capable of altering the properties of my mana—something disruptive that interferes with my ability to a certain degree.

  I’ve never used my crushing zone with Imra before; it’s always been a pure gravity-affinity technique. I’ve never tried weaving Imra into it, even partially. Doing so at such a large scale, with power already overflowing, would turn my brain into mush.

  Time keeps passing. My mana keeps draining, and the monsters have only suffered minor injuries. Only two of them have lost an arm, yet they continue as if nothing happened.

  My mana is being slowly drained. Maintaining such a massive crushing zone consumes far more than I anticipated. I need to think of a solution quickly.

  A skill to slow it down using Imra… Am I an idiot? My Prison contains Imra at its core. Fighting nonstop for so long made me forget a technique I’ve been using for months.

  I focus carefully and begin forming the skill. Adding another cognitive load is brutal. The pressure of constructing a prison capable of holding such a powerful monster while defending myself from lethal attacks makes blood stream from my nose.

  I finally build it and find the right moment to activate it. I feel the monster’s shock when its movements are restricted, and I move instantly as its speed drops.

  I manage to tear the heads off two monsters as fast as I can. The prison is already shaking violently and shatters just a second later—but it bought me the time I needed to take them down.

  The pressure on my body eases, my mind gets a brief rest, and I can form constructions again. I repeat the same strategy for the next exchanges. One by one, the remaining monsters fall as I slowly annihilate them.

  “Huh?” When only the two largest werewolves remain, one of my arms is suddenly blown off. The thinner one must have figured out how to break my skill a fraction of a second faster—I couldn’t react in time to the combination of his movement and attack.

  “Too late.” It certainly is. My arm reconstructs itself, and my Thundersnow Fang returns to my newly formed hand.

  The other large werewolf is the first to fall. His accumulated wounds had slowed him enough for me to finish him without needing to restrain the slender one.

  The following moments I dedicate to training my Gravity Burst. It’s only one step away from gaining its final level and evolving in rank. Overall, I’ve gained several levels inside this dungeon.

  The final maneuver—dodging the claws aimed at my neck—becomes his sentence. I rip off his last arm, and my other sword sends his head flying. My mind receives two notifications.

  “Gravity Burst (II) has reached level 15… evolving into: Gravity Surge (III)”

  “Congratulations on clearing the ninth wave, challenger!” At last, only one final wave remains.