The abundance of energy or mana in this world and how it affects its inhabitants is becoming even more apparent. The slight differences and deformities of common creatures as well as the bear’s use of what seems to be magic solidify your assumption. If this world has magic and even beasts can use it, then it may make surviving a little bit more difficult.

You take a low stance — debating whether you should continue fighting or just leave. Of course, the mere thought of abandoning a fight against an over-sized bear is totally absurd. It may outweigh you by a factor of five, but you know at an instinctual level that you would prevail.

The bear charges once again. Fluctuations around its body are a tell-tale sign of additional magic-use. “Enhancement-type magic?” you wonder.

The bear seems faster and its footfalls even seem heavier. You meet the bear’s charge — veering left at the right moment to avoid its claws and unleashing a thunderous strike to its head.

Your fist hits with a force not inferior to the bear’s strike. You feel your fist connecting to the bear’s hard skull, the impact rebounding all over your body until it reaches your feet and the ground underneath it. Your feet dig into the ground but neither you nor the bear fly off.

The bear is enraged. It rises to its full height — swiping at you with one of its claws. Exactly as you predicted.

Instead of evading, you block the bear’s strike with an open palm. An energy inside you — similar, yet vastly different from the world’s energy — erupts from your being. As your palm meets the descending claw — a brief flash of what seems to be black light appears where claw meets flesh.

The massive claw lands on your palm and seemingly stops. The black light seems to have robbed the strike of its momentum and all you feel is the weight of the bear’s arm. You use the bear’s arm to pull yourself off the ground — thrusting your right hand into the bear’s mouth.

Pulling down with force will only send you flying upwards because of the weight disparity so you make sure to plant your feet at the bear’s torso as you pull yourself up. In one explosive motion, you pull with your arms and push with your legs.

The bear’s jaw is ripped from its mouth. Blood gushes from the gruesome wound — a mortal wound unless the bear has more tricks up its sleeve.

The vicious pull sends you flying a few feet away from the injured bear, and you roll backward to create additional distance and quickly get back to your feet.

The injured bear charges — driven mad by the mortal wound and intent on dragging you down with it to the grave. In a few minutes, it would be too weak to move — but that would hardly be a worthy ending for your first real opponent. The bear will die, but it would have a quick and honorable death.

You roll to the left as the bear charges — picking up the pointed club you discarded before the fight. A part of the makeshift spear breaks as you roll. It was done purposefully and now its length is cut to 20 centimeters —any longer and it would probably snap before penetrating, any shorter and it might not reach the bear’s brain through its exposed jaw.

You wait for the bear to turn around and charge — noting a slight loss of speed, probably because of the blood loss.

Bursts of magical energy emanate from the bear as it makes its final charge — half a ton of muscle and bony protrusions driven by magic and madness.

You stop the charge with another palm strike.

The force of the charge would have sent you flying because of the glaring weight difference, but once again a flash of black robs the bear of its momentum.

You jab the sharpened point of your shortened stake into the maw of the dying bear and straight to its brain. It twitches for a moment before finally dropping to the ground. The battle is over.

You use the bear’s ripped-out jaw to tear off one of its claws. The claw is unusually sharp — a lot harder than you expected. You use the claw to skin the bear and remove the other claws, just in case they come in handy.

You cut a few pieces of the bear’s flesh for meat — just enough for one or two days’ worth of meals. While dissecting the bear to gain a bit more knowledge, you discover an unusual orb situated near the bear’s brain.

“An evolutionary adaptation or the source of its magic?” you ponder. You feel minute traces of hostility and malevolence from the orb but you decide to keep it.

With the bear’s pelt in tow, you notice fewer animals daring to approach you. You reach the river without incident after a couple of hours and immediately take a few sips of water. You check the surrounding area for tracks and signs of large predators, but the bear seems to be it.

You wash the bear’s pelt in the river, taking care to get rid of all traces of blood and gore. Although the bear’s scent may dissuade predators from coming close — it would also make hunting a little more complicated. Besides, who would want to wear a bloody coat?

You fashion a few spears with some branches, using a few bear claws as the spearhead. You bind them together by lodging the bear claws into the wood and binding them with strips of bear pelt. You know full well that these spears might only be good for a single strike. That is, unless you find a better way to craft your spears.

You gather enough wood to make a campfire that would last throughout the night. You cook a portion of the bear meat and smoke the rest. With water and food secure, you decide to search for the bear’s den.

It takes a few hours to trace the bear’s path and find its den. You were expecting a hollowed tree but instead, the bear had a whole cave. It seems to be a solitary creature — so no younglings or partner to take care of.

The bear’s stench is rampant but tolerable. The cave has a single entry point — making it easy to defend. You decide to make it a temporary shelter or base of sorts. The bear’s scent would put off potential dangers and the cave’s structure will provide adequate protection from the elements. With your newly-crafted spears, you are even surer of your ability to defend your current base and ensure your survival.

The first night in the cave was uneventful — just as you hoped for. You spent a fleeting moment contemplating your lack of memories but ultimately decided it was not an immediate problem. It would return — or it would not. No matter what happens, you are determined to survive until you make sense of this world or crush it under your feet.

In the morning, you take a quick assessment of yourself and your current assets. It seems you have the appearance of a normal 16-year old human — but you know that you are far from normal. You might have been a soldier or at least went through intensive combat training. You are fast and strong — your physical assets clearly enough to make a bear, which was the top predator of the area, nothing more than a minor threat. Still, the fact that an animal could use magic was disturbing.

Leaving the cave to head to the river, you notice smoke rising from a distance. You estimate it would be half a day’s travel to reach the place if you run at full speed — but you don’t know who or what would be waiting by that fire.

You decide to put it off for a day or two. Fortifying your position is certainly more important than making contact with an unknown and possibly hostile group.

You stock up on wood for warmth, cutting a few branches with the bear claw to use as stakes. You familiarize yourself with the surrounding flora and fauna — taking note of what can be used. You use your sharp senses of taste and smell to make a mental list of what is edible, useful, and toxic. A few of these plants should be considered beneficial — with healing, anti-inflammatory, and blood coagulating properties that normal soldiers could make use of.

You encounter a few venomous snakes, but you have no use for their poison at the moment. Judging by how other animals interacted with the bear — it would be a surprise to see a creature in this forest that would pose a threat to you large enough to press you to use poison.

When night comes, your cave is stocked with wood and food and protected by a makeshift fence of sharpened stakes and a few traps. Although hardly any predator would come near the territory of the bone-armored bear — those that would dare to come are in for a big surprise.