No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

The sheer strain of those maneuvers would have crushed an ordinary pilot. Even with a top-tier G-force dampening system, the pilot's body still had to endure the whiplash of each violent shift in momentum. Bones would creak. Organs would churn. A moment's hesitation, and the cockpit would become a coffin.

Only someone with immense physical strength, sharpened instincts, and absolute mastery over their nervous system could ride that storm without blacking out.

Kubwa Chaka was doing it like he was born in the heart of a hurricane.

And it was sniffing for weakness. Tasting for blood. Drawing closer.

"He's not even trying to aim!" Grumpy Bear screamed. "He's sniffing him out! Look at those high-speed step patterns! This is hunter-killer programming layered on top of instinctive AI mimicry. That mecha doesn't think. It hunts."

"And it's adapting," Sleepy Smile murmured. "Those aren't random movements. It's testing Damien's read pattern. Seeing if he flinches."

Still, Damien didn't flinch.

At last, the beast mecha reached melee range.

Mbwa Mwitu snarled forward with a shriek of tearing air. A serrated tail-blade snapped outward from its spine like a scorpion's stinger and aimed straight for Damien's chest.

Finally, Damien moved.

One sidestep.

That was it.

The tail-blade tore through air and missed by inches.

The crowd gasped.

But the beast didn't stop.

It spun. Fast. Using its tail like a pivot, it turned into a clawed slash aimed for Damien's left flank.

Damien ducked.

The claw missed.

Then, a strike by Damien.

A clean, vertical slash from Damien's blade lanced out, aiming for the elbow joint of Mbwa Mwitu's forward limb.

Sparks flew.

The edge connected but didn't cut deep. The outer casing cracked, but the inner weave of bone-mecha alloy deflected most of the damage.

"Damn!" General Maru hissed from the VIP box. "It's armored with layered bone compound… a hybrid of magical beast plating and mana alloy. That stuff's grown, not forged."

"It regenerates," General Riki said darkly. "Even if he damages it, the thing will recover if the fight drags out."

Mbwa Mwitu let out an unnatural howl, and the mecha twisted in midair, planting all four limbs and launching upward.

Not at Damien.

Over him.

It landed behind him, immediately sending three tail-blades snapping from three different directions.

Damien spun.

Parried one.

Dodged the second.

Took the third to the shoulder.

His mech skidded back, plating sparking.

"Direct hit!" Grumpy Bear roared with glee. "And that's just a taste! Mbwa Mwitu's tail arrays aren't just for show! They're heat reactive and laced with kinetic enchantments. That was a shell-piercing hook!"

Sleepy Smile narrowed his eyes. "But the Hungry Monster is still standing."

On the field, Damien rotated his shoulder, checking damage readouts internally. The pain sensors had been triggered, but only briefly. No vital systems hit.

"You bite hard," he said into the comms.

Kubwa Chaka chuckled and said in a thick African accent. "You haven't seen anything yet."

The second round of motion erupted.

Mbwa Mwitu crouched low, the beast-like mecha tensing like a predator preparing to pounce.

For a fraction of a second, it seemed to gather all the energy in its frame into its limbs. Then, without warning, it exploded forward with a pulse of its back thrusters. The sudden burst of power kicked up a blast wave that cracked the ground beneath it.

It went low—very low—almost hugging the dirt as it shot forward.

And as it moved, its body began to spin.

The wild dog didn't charge in a straight line. It twisted mid-sprint, executing a full-body rotation as the side boosters fired again, launching it into a chaotic spiral. The claws extended fully, its segmented limbs locking into a deadly formation. It became a living tornado of fangs, talons, and screeching metal, barreling toward Damien with savage momentum.

Damien moved.

His matte-black mecha accelerated straight forward, charging directly into the spinning storm.

No hesitation. No flourish.

In the commentary booth, Grumpy Bear was already screaming. "That's suicide! You don't meet that head-on! You don't meet that with anything short of a bunker wall!"

The two forces collided.

Claws raked out.

Blades hissed.

The impact detonated dust and debris into the air like a bomb had gone off. Light and sound disappeared behind the shockwave.

And then a black shape slid beneath the spinning maelstrom of Mbwa Mwitu.

Damien had ducked at the last second, angling his mech into a ground-hugging slide. The claws missed him by inches, the rotational momentum screaming just above his head.

Mid-slide, Damien twisted his torso with perfect timing, and drove his titanium blade upward into the belly joint just beneath the savage mecha's chestplate.

The strike hit.

There was resistance. The armor held, but only barely. And then Damien did something unexpected.

He twisted the blade.

A sharp, sudden jerk of his wrist while still in motion.

Sparks burst out from the underbelly of Mbwa Mwitu. Something short-circuited inside the beast. A mechanical hiccup.

Mbwa Mwitu shuddered in mid-spin. The movement faltered. The violent momentum staggered. Its limbs flailed for balance, and one of its boosters sputtered, throwing its center of gravity off.

The crowd gasped.

"Hit confirmed!" Sleepy Smile called. "He disrupted the power relay between its front limbs. That might reduce claw coordination!"

Grumpy Bear looked like someone had just stepped on his tail. "It'll recover! That thing is biomechanical! It's designed to fight while bleeding! The more it bleeds, the crazier it fights!"

Grumpy Bear was right.

At that moment, it was as though the crazy switch was flicked on.

Mbwa Mwitu went full primal.

It snarled, crouched, and lunged at Damien's face with open jaws.

Its mouth wasn't just for aesthetics.

There were energy fangs inside.

Fangs that snapped down, almost catching Damien's neck. He had to twist midair, landing hard to the side, his armor hissing with strain.

"Close one!" Sleepy Smile muttered.

Inside the cockpit, Damien was breathing steadily.

Not angry.

Not excited.

Focused.

He had learned the rhythm now.

Not of the mecha.

But of the pilot.