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JL Chapter 12 The Great Bone Ape
🕑 Added 2025-09-26 04:40:50 +0000 UTCThe air was thick with the stench of the forest, every breath Mitchell drew burning hot in his lungs. His knuckles turned white around the bronze sword’s hilt, sweat making the grip slippery. Beside him, Lovel crouched low, her golden eyes narrowed and glowing in the dark, quills clenched between her fingers like a predator ready to strike.
‘Lovel’s calm,’ Mitchell thought, panic hammering in his chest. ‘And here I am shaking like a leaf. Damn it, Mitchell, pull it together. If you lose it now, she’s dead. You’re both dead.’
The ape gave a guttural roar that shook the trees, bone-spikes along its back rattling like a macabre set of armor. Then, without warning, it lunged. Its massive fists pounded the ground with terrifying speed, closing the distance faster than Mitchell believed possible for a beast its size.
“Move!” He shouted, his voice cracking.
Lovel obeyed instantly, darting to the left in a blur of silver hair and twitching ears. Mitchell stumbled the opposite way, nearly tripping over his own shoes as the beast thundered between them, its spiked arms digging trenches into the earth where they had stood seconds earlier.
Without hesitation, Lovel twisted mid-stride and let her quills fly. They whistled through the air like deadly darts, embedding themselves deep into the ape’s chest and stomach. One sank between ribs, another just beneath the collarbone, a third into the thick meat of its gut.
Mitchell’s heart leapt as he noticed. ‘Yes! Direct hits!’
But the triumph soured instantly.
The ape barely flinched. Its glowing yellow eyes narrowed, and with a rumbling snarl it turned its head toward Lovel as though she had tossed pebbles at its hide. The quills stuck out of its flesh like ornaments, ignored with blood dribbling sluggishly down its matted fur.
“Shit,” Mitchell whispered, stomach lurching.
The beast’s gaze locked onto Lovel. It bared its fangs and started forward, each step shaking the ground. Lovel froze only for a second, then darted back, her tail bristling, her hand reaching for more quills.
“No you don’t,” Mitchell growled, panic spiking into reckless courage.
He dashed forward with Sprint, every nerve screaming at him to run the other way. The bronze sword felt pitifully light against the mountain of muscle and bone before him, but he swung with everything he had. The blade bit into the ape’s broad shoulder, sliding between the plates of bone jutting from its hide. For a brief, glorious second, Mitchell saw red blood spill across the blade and drip to the earth.
“I—I got it!”
But the wound was shallow, barely more than a scratch on a beast this size. The ape reared back with a roar of pure fury, its massive arm snapping forward like a club.
The force of the wind alone knocked Mitchell stumbling backward. He barely got his sword up in time, the blow glancing off the blade and sending shockwaves up his arms. His teeth rattled, pain shooting into his shoulders.
‘I didn’t even damage it as if that was nothing but a damn annoyance. Like I’m poking a damn mountain with a toothpick!’
The ape turned, yellow eyes now darting between him and Lovel. Its lips peeled back, saliva dripping between its jagged teeth.
Lovel regrouped quickly, sliding closer to Mitchell’s side, quills still ready but her gaze flicking toward him. “Master,” She said, her tone even despite the situation, “we cannot win by trading blows.”
“Gee, you think?!” Mitchell snapped, panicking, making his voice sharp. “I’m already out of breath and we just started!”
The ape’s roar silenced them both as it slammed its fists into the ground, dirt and stone flying. The ground quaked beneath them, a clear warning that this was only the beginning.
Mitchell tightened his grip on the sword, forcing his trembling legs to stand their ground. He risked a glance at Lovel, who crouched low, tail swishing, her golden eyes sharp and unyielding. She was scared—he could see it—but she wasn’t despairing and that alone kept him from collapsing.
‘Okay, Mitchell. Think. It doesn’t care about pain. Quills don’t work. Sword doesn’t work. Then how the hell do you kill something that doesn’t feel?’
The monster’s roar cracked through the air, and in the next instant it lunged again—this time not for Lovel, not for both of them, but directly for Mitchell.
His blood froze. The sheer size of the thing made his every instinct scream to run, but his legs refused. He knew instantly there was no escaping the speed of that beast. Its yellow eyes burned with primal hunger, its spiked arms cutting the air as it thundered toward him.
‘No way I can dodge that…! Then I’ve got no choice!’ With a choked breath, Mitchell raised his bronze sword and braced himself.
The ape swung one massive arm, bone spike glinting under the moonlight. Mitchell twisted, barely catching the blow on his blade. CLANG! The impact sent vibrations rattling through his bones, sparks shooting as the crude bronze groaned under the weight. His arms nearly gave out.
The ape pressed harder, snarling, its rancid breath washing over him. Mitchell grit his teeth, straining, then shoved the weapon aside and staggered back.
The beast didn’t relent. Another arm came down, and Mitchell raised his sword in desperation. Sparks exploded again as bone met bronze, and he stumbled away, his shoulder screaming with pain.
‘This isn’t even a fight! This thing’s got raw power! If I don’t keep moving, I’m paste!’
He darted left, then right, swinging where he could—slashes at its chest, a thrust toward its gut. Each strike was shallow, glancing, only enough to draw thin rivulets of blood. The ape ignored them all, its fury undiminished.
Mitchell ducked under a swipe and countered with a desperate slash at its thigh. For a heartbeat he felt pride when the blade cut deep enough to spill more blood… but the beast roared, unfazed, and lashed its other arm across.
“GAH!”
The spike grazed his side, tearing cloth and ripping a shallow gash into his ribs. Pain lanced through him, hot and blinding. He staggered back, clutching his side, his breaths ragged.
“Master!” Lovel’s voice cut through the chaos.
She hurled a volley of quills, each whistling through the air. They peppered the ape’s flank and shoulder, a dozen tiny punctures that barely pierced its hide. The monster bellowed in annoyance, snapping its head toward her.
Mitchell’s heart lurched. “No! Look at me, you bastard!”
He charged recklessly, swinging his sword with both hands. The blade clanged against the ape’s shoulder bone, sparks flying again. He didn’t even break the hide this time, but it was enough. The monster’s attention snapped back to him, its jaws gnashing as it swiped again.
Mitchell ducked—too late. The spike carved across his forearm, blood spraying. He cried out, but forced himself to counter, jabbing upward toward the creature’s chin. The sword scraped bone, useless, but bought him a second’s space.
His chest heaved, his muscles screamed, sweat and blood mixing across his face. Every swing felt heavier than the last, his hands shaking from the repeated shocks of metal clashing against bone.
‘This is my first real fight… and it’s against this thing?! Damn it, I don’t know what I’m doing! My form’s sloppy, my guard’s open—if this was a real swordsman, I’d be dead ten times over already!’
Another strike came crashing down, and Mitchell barely managed to parry, sparks exploding again. The force sent him sprawling onto his back, the sword nearly flying from his grip.
The ape raised both arms, ready to crush him in a double blow.
“MASTER!”
Lovel’s quills whistled through the air, striking the ape’s temple and cheek. It roared, enraged, flinching just enough to miss the killing strike. Dirt exploded where Mitchell had been a heartbeat earlier as he rolled desperately aside.
He staggered to his feet, blood dripping down his arm, his vision swimming. His sword trembled in his grip, but his eyes burned with defiance.
“Thanks… Lovel,” He rasped, giving her a quick, weak grin.
She stood several paces away, arm raised for another volley, golden eyes sharp and unyielding. Her tail bristled, her voice steady despite the chaos. “Do not fall, Master. I will cover you.”
Mitchell tightened his grip on the bronze sword, planting his feet again despite the pain screaming through his body.
‘She’s relying on me. I can’t fall—not yet. Not when she’s still fighting.’
The ape snarled, its eyes flicking between them. It wasn’t finished as it quickly charged at Mitchell again.
Mitchell’s lungs burned with every breath, his arms trembling as he deflected another wild strike from the ape’s massive spiked arm. Each blow sent shudders through his body, threatening to rip the sword straight out of his grip and causing the various cuts on his body to spurt blood.
The beast was relentless. It snarled and charged again, yellow eyes blazing, spikes tearing through the ground as it rushed forward. Mitchell backpedaled, feet slipping against the dirt, desperately twisting and ducking to avoid being skewered. Every swipe came within inches of ending him.
‘Too close—way too close! One slip and I’m done for!’ His heart slammed against his ribs, his body screaming for escape. But he couldn’t run. If he turned his back, he’d never make it ten steps.
The ape then suddenly leapt back, towering over him. For one precious second Mitchell thought he had a breather—until its jaws opened wide.
“Oh, no—!”
The roar exploded out, louder and heavier than before, a shockwave of raw sound that crashed into Mitchell like a tidal wave. His ears rang, his legs buckled, and before he knew it his muscles locked tight. He stood frozen in place, sword half-raised, heart hammering but body refusing to obey.
‘Not again…!’ His eyes widened, panic clawing at his chest. The paralysis was worse than pain—it was helplessness. He could see the ape lowering its body, preparing to rush him down while he stood there like an idiot statue.
“No! CURE!”
The word ripped out of his throat, raw and desperate. His body glowed faintly, warmth racing through his limbs like liquid fire. The invisible shackles shattered, his knees giving way as he stumbled forward, breathing hard.
At the same time, a sharp hiss cut the air.
Ffft! Ffft! Ffft!
Lovel’s quills streaked across the battlefield like silver bolts. They slammed into the ape’s face, one embedding deep into its cheek, another piercing its brow—and one sinking straight into its left eye.
The monster howled in agony, rearing back, its claws tearing at its own face. Blood and ichor streamed down its fur, its head thrashing violently.
“Nice shot!” Mitchell shouted, adrenaline cutting through his fear.
The ape staggered wildly, blind rage replacing its measured brutality. It slammed its fists into the earth, bellowing, flinging dirt and stone in every direction as it rampaged. Trees shook as it tore through them, blinded by pain.
Mitchell didn’t waste the chance. He sprinted toward Lovel, his boots slipping on loose earth, sword clattering at his side. He reached her just as another roar split the air, but this one was wild and unfocused, the sound of a wounded beast thrashing.
He bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. “Holy… crap. I thought I was toast.”
Lovel stood tall beside him, her quills ready, her golden eyes steady despite the chaos. She gave a quick flick of her ears and spoke calmly. “It lost an eye. That may slow it down. But it is not finished.”
Mitchell straightened, still panting, his chest aching with every breath. He glanced at her, catching the faint glint of blood on her cheek from where debris had grazed her. Despite it, she stood firm, tail swishing slowly, waiting for his command.
He tightened his grip on the sword, feeling the weight of her gaze on him. “…Thanks. You saved me out there.”
Lovel shook her head, ears twitching. “We fight together. Do not forget that, Master.”
Mitchell gave a shaky laugh, trying to summon courage where there was none. “Guess I’d be an idiot if I did.”
But then the ape roared again, this time stumbling blindly toward them with one eye ruined and oozing, spikes gleaming in the pale light.
Mitchell’s chest heaved, every breath sharp and ragged. His arms felt like lead, his legs trembling as if they could give out at any moment. His bloodied forearm screamed with pain every time he tried to adjust his grip on the sword. Still, he kept it raised, unwilling to drop it even as his vision blurred around the edges.
‘If I stop now… it’ll kill us both. I can’t—’
But before he could muster another ounce of reckless courage, a firm hand tugged the hilt of the sword. His grip weakened from fatigue, and the bronze blade slipped free.
“W-Wha—Lovel?!”
She stepped in front of him, her silhouette framed against the hulking shadow of the one-eyed ape as it pounded its chest, ready to charge again. The bronze sword gleamed faintly in her hands, steadier than it had ever been in his. Her tail flicked once, ears twitching with determination.
“What are you doing?!” Mitchell barked, stumbling forward, voice hoarse.
Lovel glanced back at him, her golden eyes calm but burning with quiet resolve. “You are hurt, Master and losing too much blood. If you continue, you will fall.”
“I’m fine,” Mitchell shot back instinctively, his voice cracking with desperation. “I can still—”
“No.” Her voice cut through his protest like a blade. She stepped closer, close enough that he could see the faint tremor of her bloodied fingers gripping the sword—but her eyes never wavered. “I can see it. Your body shakes with every breath. You bleed with every movement. You would not last another exchange. Leave this to me.”
Mitchell froze, mouth opening, but the words lodged in his throat.
Lovel turned back toward the ape, raising the sword in a stance he had only ever seen in books or guild demonstrations. Her feet slid apart, knees bent, her body loose but ready. “Do not worry, Master. My Swordsmanship is at a higher rank than yours. With this blade, I will be more efficient.”
Mitchell’s heart sank. He wanted to scream at her that it wasn’t about skill, that the monster could rip her apart with a single mistake. But the truth gnawed at him—she was right. His form had been sloppy, every strike wild and desperate. He had barely survived by sheer luck and her well-placed quills.
The ape let out another guttural roar, one eye clouded and dripping with black ichor. Then it charged, fury embodied, spikes dragging trenches in the earth as it barreled toward them.
“Lovel, wait!” Mitchell cried, reaching out with a shaking hand.
But she was already moving.
She surged forward, bronze sword flashing. The ape’s massive arm came down in a brutal arc, but Lovel’s blade angled perfectly, deflecting the spike with a sharp clang before pivoting around to slash at its wrist. Blood sprayed, the cut clean and precise.
Mitchell staggered back, pressing trembling hands against his wounds, and could only watch. His mouth hung open as the sight unfolded before him—a spectacle of skill he hadn’t known she possessed.
Where his swings had been clumsy, hers were graceful. Where his parries had nearly broken his arms, hers redirected the brute force with practiced finesse. Each step she took flowed into the next, her silver hair trailing like a banner as she ducked under swipes and spun to counter with fluid, surgical strikes.
The ape swung both arms in a frenzy, bone spikes cutting the air. Lovel weaved through them, her blade snapping out in short, efficient counters. Sparks showered when bronze struck bone. She pivoted low and dodged high as her movements were smooth as a dance. Not once did the ape’s spikes so much as graze her.
Mitchell pressed down on a gash along his ribs, teeth clenched against the sting. Blood soaked his fingers. Yet even through the haze of pain, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
‘She’s… incredible. I thought I was holding my own, but compared to this—compared to her—I was just flailing. This is real skill and this is what a higher rank looks like. Makes me wonder just how strong a person is with an A Ranked Skill.’
Another roar split the sky as Lovel drove the sword across the ape’s thigh, forcing it to stumble. She moved before it even recovered, quills in her off-hand flashing into its exposed flank. The monster bellowed, enraged but blinded by pain, swiping wildly.
She sidestepped cleanly, her tail flicking once in satisfaction as she circled the ape, every movement deliberate.
Unfortunately not even with all its constant injuries would the great bone ape fall as each time it would continue to attack as the ape’s massive spiked fists slammed into the ground, the earth cracked and trembled, sending clumps of dirt and splinters of wood flying through the air. Lovel’s blade flashed again and again, weaving against the beast’s hulking form.
But this only enraged the ape by mounting wounds and humiliation, causing it to release a roar so loud it made Mitchell’s ears ring even from where he knelt. Its one good eye gleamed with a murderous light, saliva and blood dripping from its jagged fangs. It wasn’t fighting to kill anymore—it was fighting to destroy.
“Lovel—!” Mitchell rasped, clutching his bleeding side as he tried to rise. His voice was raw, panicked and useless against the deafening roar of the beast.
The ape started to swing wildly, its bone spikes carving vicious arcs through the air. The strikes no longer carried the slow, telegraphed rhythm of brute strength. Now they were savage, unpredictable and driven by fury. Every swing was a killing blow, each one faster than the last, and capable of shattering stone.
Lovel parried one spike with a clang of bronze against bone, the force reverberating down her arms. She spun aside and slashed at its thigh, but the moment her blade connected, another arm came sweeping across. She barely ducked under it, the air above her head splitting with a sound like tearing cloth.
‘It’s getting stronger and faster.’ Her thoughts were steady but taut, her breathing starting to get heavy. Her ears flattened against her head as the monster shrieked again, swiping with reckless abandon. ‘I cannot keep this up forever.’
“Damn it!” Mitchell cursed, pressing his palm against the dirt as he struggled to push himself up. His vision swam, blood dripped down his side in warm rivulets, but his eyes never left her. Each time she deflected a blow, sparks and dust showered the air. Each time she dodged, it was by inches, her tail brushing against the wind of the ape’s attacks.
“Stay back, Master!” Lovel’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. She met another swing, the sword jarring against her grip, teeth gritted as the impact forced her back several steps. “You are too injured!”
Mitchell shook his head, chest heaving. “Like hell I’m just gonna sit here and—”
Another roar. Another swing. Lovel was forced to leap back, the ground erupting where she had stood a heartbeat earlier. The ape’s fists pummeled the earth in a frenzy, dirt and stone flying everywhere.
Mitchell shielded his eyes, his heart hammering. She’s holding it off—but it’s too much! Every blow’s heavier than the last. She won’t last at this pace.
Lovel’s arms ached with every parry. Her breath came faster now, each dodge costing her more than the last. She pivoted around a spike and slashed again, but the bronze blade skidded against hardened bone. The creature howled, thrashing in pain and rage, its enormous body flailing with unstoppable force.
Mitchell bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood. He could barely stand, but every second of watching her fight tore at him.
The ape stomped forward, the ground shattering under its weight. Lovel raised the sword, parried once more, but the sheer strength of the beast forced her to her knees. Her arms trembled, her golden eyes flashing with strain as the bone spike pressed closer, the weight threatening to crush her completely.
Mitchell’s heart nearly stopped. “LOVEL!”
For a moment, time slowed. He saw her teeth grit, her body trembling, her tail lashing violently as she forced every ounce of strength into holding the blade steady. Her golden eyes locked onto the beast’s one good eye, unyielding even as her arms shook.
‘I will not fall. Not while the Master is watching me. Not while he still breathes.’
The ape shrieked, pushing harder, forcing the bronze sword down inch by inch. Lovel’s knees sank deeper into the earth, dirt crumbling beneath her. Her breath came ragged, sharp, but she refused to let go.
Mitchell stumbled forward, ignoring the pain tearing through his side, the blood dripping from his wounds. His vision blurred, his body screamed, but his heart thundered with a singular thought: She can’t do this alone. Not anymore. I have to move.
“Lovel!” he shouted, voice raw and desperate. “Hold on—I’m coming!”
Her golden eyes flicked toward him for the briefest instant, widening. “No—stay back!” she barked, voice fierce despite the strain. But her lips trembled, betraying the fear that even her strength might soon fail.
But finally the clash ended in a violent crack as the ape pressed down one final time. Lovel’s arms, already trembling, gave way beneath the weight. The bronze sword was torn from her grip, spinning across the battlefield as the monster’s force launched her backward.
“Ahh—!” Her cry cut through the night as her body slammed into the dirt, tumbling and rolling through shattered earth and broken grass. She skidded to a halt several paces away, dust rising around her, silver hair plastered to her face as she groaned in pain.
“Lovel!” Mitchell’s heart dropped, his blood turning to ice.
He barely had time to think. The ape, fueled by rage and madness, spotted her fallen form and bellowed, its jagged teeth gleaming with saliva. It lowered its hulking body and charged, its massive spiked arms tearing furrows into the soil as it barreled straight toward her.
Mitchell’s mind screamed. His body moved before his thoughts could catch up. ‘If I don’t stop it now, she’s dead.’
His eyes darted desperately. By some miracle, the bronze sword had landed in the dirt only an arm’s length away. He snatched it up, the hilt slick with grime and sweat, and felt a surge of adrenaline as he activated Sprint and blaze through with his exhausted body.
‘No time to think. No time to breathe. Move!’
“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Mitchell roared, his throat raw, legs pumping as he sprinted forward.
The ape thundered closer to Lovel ignoring Mitchell coming closer as its single good eye locked on its helpless prey. Lovel struggled weakly, her body aching, her golden eyes widening as she realized she wouldn’t be able to move in time.
“Master—!” She tried to call, but her voice was hoarse, pained.
The distance between predator and prey closed in a heartbeat.
But Mitchell was already there.
He threw himself forward with everything he had, sword gripped in both hands. The ape’s roar split the night as it raised an arm to crush him—but Mitchell didn’t falter. He drove the blade upward with all the desperation, fear, and fury boiling inside him.
“DIIIIE!”
The bronze blade met resistance—thick hide, hardened bone, layers of muscle—but Mitchell screamed, pushing through with every ounce of strength left in his battered body. His vision blurred, his arms burned, but then—
SHKKT!
The blade broke through.
He felt it sink deep into the ape’s chest, sliding past the ribs and into something vital. The monster’s roar choked into a strangled cry, its single good eye bulging in shock. For a heartbeat, its entire body froze, towering over him like a broken statue.
Then blood erupted from its maw.
The blade had struck true. Straight through the chest, piercing its monstrous heart.
Mitchell staggered back as the beast’s massive frame shuddered, the life draining from its eye. Its arms, once so powerful and unstoppable, fell limp at its sides. With a final, guttural wheeze, the ape toppled forward, its body shaking the earth one last time before it collapsed in a heap of fur and bone spikes.
Mitchell’s legs gave out, and he fell to his knees, the sword still trembling in his hands. His chest heaved, every breath like fire, blood still dripping from his wounds.
It was over.
“…I… I actually… killed it,” He whispered, disbelief painting every word. His whole body trembled—not from fear this time, but from the aftermath, from the sheer weight of what he had just done.
“Master…”
His gaze snapped to Lovel. She lay a few feet away, propped up on her elbows despite the pain etched across her face. Her golden eyes were wide, shimmering in the moonlight—not with fear, but with something else. Relief and pride.
“You…” She breathed, her voice soft, almost reverent. “You saved me.”
Mitchell swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to collapse—but all he could do was crawl closer to her, dragging the sword along the dirt. He dropped it beside her and managed a weak, crooked smile.
“Guess… we’re even now, huh?” He rasped.
Lovel shook her head faintly, her tail twitching despite her exhaustion. “No… You are still my master. I shouldn’t have allowed you to risk yourself like this again.”
Mitchell laughed once, bitter and breathless, before coughing against the pain in his ribs. “Sorry. Couldn’t exactly… sit back and let you get squashed.”
And together, bloodied, battered, but alive, they sat beside the corpse of the great bone ape, the silence of the forest returning slowly around them.
Finally done. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistakes.
