Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

'Wait... why do you have that title next to your name?' Nightmare asked through Link. 'He Who Cannot Be Chained? What does that even mean?'

'Seth!' Colossus chimed in before Seth could answer. 'Do you think I could get a title too? Maybe He Who Protects With His Giant and Incredible Shell?'

'That's a… little long, Colossus,' Seth replied mentally.

A faint smile tugged at his bloodstained lips despite the exhaustion threatening to make him collapse.

Then his gaze fell to his forearms.

He couldn't feel the inscription the Scribe had carved into his flesh half a year ago anymore. That wild power had shattered the chains binding his Well had destroyed the trial's seal as well.

Seth slowly flexed his fingers.

Was it really just his Talent? Or was there something else feeding into it? Something deeper—something that was simply part of who he was, shaped by the Path he had chosen for himself?

His eyes moved back to the contribution list in the center of the neutral zone and stopped on the new title next to his name. He Who Cannot Be Chained.

"Seth!" Marcus called from behind. "We have to leave. More NEVAK enforcers are on their way."

Seth turned.

Marcus was already climbing Vorath's massive slate-gray flank, and once he'd made it to the top he swung his leg between two obsidian spikes of the wyvern's spine.

Seth followed, but not before sweeping one last glance across the neutral zone.

The banners of House Vancaws, House Surani, House Ryehill, and House Chester had shifted up, forming a defensive wall around the Champions of Chaos.

Yet the remaining Great Houses hadn't moved an inch.

They should have been charging toward Orwen to avenge the headless king lying in the middle of the plain.

But they were right to hesitate.

Without a single Platinum Wielder capable of matching either Marshal Vancaws or the leader of the Champions of Chaos—and with nearly every Royal Guard already dead—an assault would be nothing short of suicide.

Seth's eyes found Orwen first.

The silver-haired man stood behind the locked shield wall beside Professor Reat and Celine.

Orwen gave Seth a calm, reassuring nod. Celine, next to him, followed with a playful wink.

They are going to be fine.

Seth's gaze shifted to the Surani House formation. Jenna, Devus, Selena, Henry, and even Floria, who was still chained, were all staring at him. Each of them wore an expression of utter disbelief. Well, all except Devus.

The Guardian sported the biggest grin Seth had ever seen and was pointing straight at Vorath.

Then Seth found Elena.

The crimson-haired noblewoman met his gaze. A warm, proud smile spread across her face. She mouthed a single word: Go.

Seth returned her smile, then sprang upward to grab one of the thick runic scales along Vorath's shoulder and pull himself onto the wyvern's broad back behind Marcus.

From his new vantage point, he looked across the plain.

The Empress and her daughter, Celess, stood behind a wall of imperial soldiers, both staring directly at him. The male officer of the NEVAK also continued to watch him.

Despite Marcus and Vorath having just saved their lives by driving off the Draerians, the man's face didn't show even the slightest hint of gratitude.

The behavior fitted him just fine.

From everything he had seen, gratitude didn't seem to exist within an organization like the NEVAK.

Seth's gaze moved to the wounded woman in the man's arms.

Though still bleeding, she bore a hateful expression; her eyes were locked on a lone figure standing near the Champions of Chaos.

Kaelen.

The assassin swayed where he stood, barely able to remain upright. His dark leather armor was scorched black, wisps of smoke still rising from the burns left by the raging aether.

Seth grimaced.

The NEVAK diplomats had survived, which meant Kaelen was as good as dead.

The duo would demand Kastal hand him over. And there wasn't the slightest chance they would refuse.

The assassin had sacrificed everything for a vengeance that he would never have the chance to see be fulfilled.

Seth stared down at him.

Every rational part of Seth told him that what he was about to do would come back to haunt him. Yet his gut refused to let go.

He cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Kaelen!" he shouted over the rising wind. "Did you know?"

The assassin frowned in confusion. For a moment, he simply stared back before realization flickered across his face.

He shook his head.

"That man's eyes were blue back in Asethka! Not golden!"

Seth pressed his lips into a thin line, then he leaned to the side and looked at Marcus behind the obsidian spike of Vorath's back. "You said I could bring one person with me, right?"

The Alchemist frowned. "Yes, but…" The old man's gaze darted down toward the assassin. "No! Absolutely not—"

Before he could finish, Vorath shifted beneath them.

The colossal wyvern lowered his body, and his powerful muscles rippled beneath his slate-gray scales as he prepared to take flight.

Seth flashed a defiant smile and stretched out his arm toward Kaelen.

At first the assassin simply stared in sheer bafflement. Then instinct took over.

Without a word, Kaelen exploded into motion.

He sprinted across the scorched battlefield and jumped just as Vorath's colossal wings flapped downward.

Kaelen's hand locked around the forearm of Seth, who planted his boots against the runic scales of the wyvern and heaved with everything he had.

Kaelen cleared the edge of Vorath's flank and swung his legs over the beast's spine to land directly behind Seth.

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Marcus groaned and shot the newest passenger an incredulous look.

"We already have half the continent as our enemies," he said over the roaring wind. "And you've decided to bring an imperial traitor with us?"

"He saved my friend," Seth replied without hesitation. "The Surani."

"His mate," Nightmare corrected from within the teardrop necklace.

Marcus slowly pinched the bridge of his crooked nose.

Then he let out a long, resigned sigh as Vorath let out one final roar. The sound rolled across the neutral zone and shook the plain. The wyvern drove his wings downward with more strength this time, and a blast erupted beneath him.

The resulting wind flattened the trampled grass, tore banners from their poles, and hurled debris into the air. The next beat launched them skyward.

The acceleration crushed Seth against the wyvern's back as the battlefield shrank beneath them.

What had been a war-torn plain only moments earlier dwindled into a blur of crimson, steel, and ice. Then Vorath tore through the cloud layer and they disappeared from sight.

Vorath flew above the clouds. His immense wings beat with powerful strokes, each one carrying them farther into the blue horizon.

Marcus leaned closer to Seth, raising his voice over the rushing wind. "You knew the real target was the NEVAK officers from the beginning. You lied about it being the Empress."

"Yes," Seth admitted. "I didn't want anyone else to be in trouble. Since Orwen and the others believed she was the target, the NEVAK won't be able to come after them for not giving a warning. Even if they search their memories."

Marcus ran a hand through his wind-tossed beard and let out a sigh. "That was actually a good idea." The Alchemist then glanced back at Kaelen. "I suppose bringing him along is slightly less terrible." Turning forward again, he continued, "The NEVAK council will be furious for months. But with no direct casualties aside from two Living Armors, they'll eventually let it go. Most of their anger will fall on Draeria. They will probably impose economic sanctions or something along those lines. Nothing Kaiser or Zakar wouldn't have already expected."

Seth's jaw tightened. Kaiser. Now he had the second man's name.

"Do you know them?" he asked.

"I crossed paths with them a few times," Marcus answered. "A long time ago."

Seth didn't hesitate. "Did they kill my father?"

A rumbling snort vibrated through Vorath's massive frame.

"Them?" The wyvern's deep aetheric voice dripped with contempt. "Ulric would have slaughtered the two in seconds. Ten years ago, the difference between your father and them was even wider. They were mere hatchlings begging for his recognition. "

Seth frowned. "Then why does everyone from the Champions of Chaos say the Draerian who crushed the Kastal rebellion was a Platinum Wielder?"

Marcus shook his head. "He wasn't." The old Alchemist reached into his robe and pulled a silver bracelet engraved with intricate runes. "They just thought that because he wore one of these."

Then, he rested a hand against Seth's shoulder, causing the artifact's description to appear in his field of vision through Shared Identify.