The first blow came faster than I expected.

A blur of motion—then a thunderous impact.

Bobo went flying.

He hit the ground hard, rolling through the dirt, small rocks scraping his fur. His tiny frame trembled as he struggled to stand. But before he could rise—

Another blow.

A heavy, deliberate kick to the ribs sent him skidding backward, dust rising in his wake.

I took a sharp step forward, heart hammering. “Hey—”

A hand clamped onto my shoulder.

I turned—Rhyzar’s grip was firm, his gaze steady. “Stay put.”

“But—”

"This is how they learn," he said simply. "Your companion is a physical type, and the golden body monkeys are more resilient than most. It looked bad, but he's molding and tempering the little guy."

My nails dug into my palms, every instinct screaming at me to move—to stop this. But I didn’t.

Bobo shook, gasping, but he still stood.

His tiny body was covered in dust, his fur ruffled, but his eyes—his eyes burned.

Rhyzar’s Warforged Golden Ape—a towering, metal-hardened beast nearly three meters tall—stared down at him, unmoved, unimpressed. Its golden fur gleamed under the morning sun, dense and thick like woven steel. Its muscles rippled with each movement, every step deliberate, controlled, unshaken.

Compared to it—Bobo looked fragile.

Weak.

I swallowed hard.

This didn't look like training.

This was punishment.

But Bobo didn’t quit.

He wiped the blood from his mouth and charged.

The Warforged Golden Ape didn’t even move.

It let Bobo throw the first punch.

A small fist, covered in dust and determination, slammed into its leg.

Nothing.

The larger ape didn’t even flinch.

Then—

A backhand strike.

Faster than I could track.

BAM!

Bobo was on the ground again.

“Damn it…” I whispered.

Rhyzar crossed his arms, watching. “Good.”

“Good?!” I turned to him, incredulous. “He’s getting beaten to a pulp!”

“And yet, he stands.”

Rhyzar's eyes seemed to focus, and his gaze sharpened.

"Do you know what the biggest drawback of this race is? Their laziness and lack of motivation despite their great potential. Bobo is a good seed; he has that fire in him."

I snapped back toward Bobo—

And my breath caught.

Because he was standing.

Shaking, wobbling, bruised—but standing.

His tail flicked. His fingers curled into fists. His legs trembled, but his eyes…

His eyes weren’t afraid.

They were burning.

Determined.

“He’s getting it,” Rhyzar muttered, watching with quiet satisfaction.

I exhaled, forcing myself to trust the process.

This wasn’t cruelty.

This was forging something greater.

Rhyzar’s voice cut through the air.

“Physical types grow through two things—pushing beyond limits and recovery. That’s it. That’s the only cycle that matters.”

Bobo charged again.

Another blow.

Another hit.

Another fall.

But each time—he got up.

Over and over and over.

I don't know what was driving him this far, maybe the desire to be strong? Or the aspiration to be like the Warforged Ape?

The answer I didn't know, but the first lesson of battle wasn't about fighting.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

It was about endurance; it was about resilience.

Rhyzar nodded. “Your job as a summoner isn’t to coddle. It’s to push.”

I gritted my teeth. I knew that. I KNEW that.

But knowing and watching were two different things.

Minutes passed.

Bobo was breathing hard, his body sluggish, his legs unsteady.

Finally, the Warforged Golden Ape stopped.

It tilted its head, scanning him.

Then—

It grunted.

Not mockery.

Not amusement.

It was recognition.

Bobo had earned something.

And then, just as deliberately, the Warforged Golden Ape turned away.

Training was over.

Bobo collapsed.

I rushed forward, sliding to my knees.

He was exhausted, bruised, battered—but alive.

I exhaled, pressing a hand against his fur, activating my recovery skill.

Soft warmth flowed through my fingertips, mana surging through his body, accelerating the healing process.

Rhyzar came closer and observed what I was doing.

"I see your healing is unlike other magic, which is good. You should not use magic to heal him after training; it will hinder the body's adaptation, but what you are doing seems fine."

I looked at him, taking in his teachings and remembering them for later.

Then my attention went back to Bobo.

His breathing evened out.

His fingers twitched.

And then, weakly—

He grinned.

A breath of laughter escaped me.

“You’re crazy,” I muttered.

Bobo let out a tired chirp.

I felt something stir in my chest.

Pride.

This wasn’t just about strength.

This was about never staying down.

This was about breaking past limits.

This was just the beginning.

Rhyzar crouched beside me, studying Bobo for a long moment before speaking.

“If you think this was hard,” he murmured, voice steady, “you’re not ready for what’s coming.”

I swallowed.

“This is just basic conditioning,” he continued. “The real training—the real battles—are a hundred times worse. If you can’t handle this, you’ll never survive the Abyssal Tower… you’ll never free your father, you’ll never survive the Raven family’s might.”

His eyes met mine.

“This is not a game, son. Are you really ready to push that far?”

“To push 'him' that far, too?”

A beat of silence.

I looked at Bobo.

The answer was already there.

I exhaled.

Then, I nodded.

“Yes.”

Rhyzar grinned. “Good.”

Because this?

This was only the first step.

Bobo was already sore from the brutal sparring session earlier, but Rhyzar wasn’t done.

“Training doesn’t end with battle,” he said, arms crossed. “It ends with refinement.”

The Warforged Golden Ape stepped forward.

It didn’t attack this time.

Instead, it moved.

And instantly—I knew this wasn’t just some simple exercise.

Each step, each shift of its muscles, each roll of its shoulders—was deliberate.

Slow. Controlled.

Its arms twisted in a way that looked unnatural at first, but then I saw it—flexibility meeting raw power. A single stance shifted from a defensive guard into an explosive strike, then back into perfect balance.

Even its tail was involved, flicking at precise angles, maintaining equilibrium.

Bobo watched, entranced.

“These movements…” I murmured.

“They’re a foundation,” Rhyzar said. “For strength, for speed, for combat flow. Every physical-type beast needs them.”

The Warforged Golden Ape finished its sequence and stood tall, composed, unwavering.

Then it grunted—and gestured for Bobo to try.

Bobo’s ears twitched. He stepped forward, rolling his shoulders, mimicking the stance.

Then—

He moved.

And instantly, I could tell—it wasn’t going to be easy.

His limbs were too short. His balance wavered. The twist in his torso crumpled halfway through, sending him stumbling—barely catching himself before he hit the dirt.

He stumbled.

Tried again.

Failed again.

But he didn’t quit.

I could see it—the burning desire in his eyes.

He wanted to learn this.

He wanted to master this.

He tried a third time, straining his muscles, pushing his body beyond what it had ever done before.

The movements were unforgiving.

Every muscle had to be precise.

Even the tail positioning was critical. A slight misalignment meant the entire sequence collapsed.

I clenched my fists.

This wasn’t just training.

This was sculpting a warrior.

And I wasn’t just going to stand by and watch.

I stepped forward.

Bobo glanced at me, breathing hard.

“You’re doing good,” I said. “But I think I can help.”

I summoned my grimoire.

The golden text shimmered, hovering beside me, already absorbing mana from the surroundings.

I reached inward—toward my skills.

Neural Acceleration.

A surge of energy flowed through me, into Bobo. His awareness sharpened, his body reacting faster.

He tried the movement again.

This time, he adjusted mid-motion, catching the flaw before he fell.

I grinned.

Then—I layered another skill.

Adaptive Growth Factor.

His muscles tensed, then relaxed, absorbing the strain, reinforcing the micro-tears from training, rebuilding stronger.

I saw it.

His stance was already better than before.

But I wasn’t done.

Vital Surge.

Warm energy pulsed into him, replenishing the exhaustion clawing at his body.

Bobo exhaled sharply—then moved again.

Better. Smoother.

The Warforged Golden Ape watched, silent.

Rhyzar narrowed his eyes.

“You’re pushing all three skills at once?”

I nodded. “I have to.”

He smirked. “That’s the spirit.”

I ignored him, focusing everything on Bobo.

I felt it—the way my mana cycled through my grimoire, absorbing energy from the surroundings, feeding it straight into him.

This time, I did not have direct contact with Bobo, so the level of effect my trait had was quite a few steps lower than normal, but it still was extremely beneficial.

But, this was my role.

This was how I would make him stronger.

Later that night, after training with the Warforged Golden Ape, Bobo and I trained alone in our room.

I wanted to see just how far I could push him.

The movements that once seemed impossible?

They were still hard.

But Bobo wasn’t failing anymore.

He was adjusting.

He was learning.

Bobo’s breath was ragged. His fur was damp with sweat, his body trembling from exhaustion.

But he refused to stop.

I could see it—the unshakable fire in his eyes.

He had failed. He had stumbled. He had fallen.

And yet—

He kept going.

Every movement was sharper.

Every correction was instinctual.

He was learning faster than ever before.

But something was missing.

Something more.

I clenched my fists.

I could push him further.

I summoned my grimoire.

The black pages flashed open, absorbing mana from the room, the very air buzzing with energy.

I activated my skills—

Neural Acceleration.

His mind clicked into overdrive, processing every movement twice as fast.

Adaptive Growth Factor.

His body absorbed the punishment, growing denser, tougher, stronger.

Vital Surge.

The strain on his muscles eased, letting him last longer, push harder.

And then—

I took a breath.

And activated Adrenaline Flow.

The effect was instantaneous.

Bobo’s eyes widened. His pupils dilated. His heart pounded faster, harder.

Every muscle coiled like a spring, primed to explode.

His stance shifted—his whole body reacting before his mind could even process.

And then—

He vanished.

A golden blur tore through the air, faster than my eyes could track.

One second, he was standing still—

The next, he was across the room.

I blinked.

What…?

Bobo twitched. His body shuddered, vibrating with raw force.

The energy I had been feeding into him—it wasn’t just circulating anymore.

It was multiplying.

Doubling. Tripling.

A rapid surge of power pulsed through his muscles.

He took another step—and shot forward.

I barely managed to track him.

His movements were erratic at first, uncontrolled bursts of speed and strength, his own body struggling to keep up.

But then—

He adjusted.

He adapted.

And he stabilized.

His breathing evened out.

His stance settled.

And for the first time, I saw it—

A New Power Awakens.

The primal, awakened power of a Golden Body Monkey.

━━━ ◇ ━━━

New Skill Unlocked: Primal Surge

Effect: Temporarily multiplies strength and speed for a short duration. The boost stacks continuously as energy circulates, increasing with momentum.

━━━ ◇ ━━━

A skill that grows stronger the longer he moves.

A skill that builds momentum endlessly.

Wait—this wasn’t the skill he was supposed to unlock!

I stared.

Bobo grinned.

And then—he launched forward, faster than ever before.