Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

Seth sat on a wooden stool at the far end of the Primalists' Den's counter.

Across from him, Hector wiped down a mug with a rag.

Even with his back to the room, Seth could feel dozens of eyes still fixed on him. The constant scrutiny made his skin crawl.

"You'll get used to it," Hector said, tossing the rag over his broad shoulder.

Seth grimaced. "I highly doubt that."

He cast a subtle glance around the room. Many of the adventurers were Copper- or Iron-tier Wielders, but quite a few radiated the denser presence of Silver and even Gold.

"I wasn't expecting this much attention."

"It was inevitable," Hector replied. "Plenty of people heard about your exploits during the war. You shattered every known record by an absurd margin. Those who hadn't already heard your name quickly caught up on the news afterward... thanks to everything else."

" 'Everything else'?" Seth asked. "You mean the fact that my father is... well, my father?"

"Among other things." Hector placed the clean mug beneath the counter. "Being Ulric's son was always going to attract attention. But what happened in that neutral zone made it far more spectacular."

Seth's eyes widened. They all know about the binding scroll?

"Many Bridan soldiers talked about it, and the word eventually reached here," Hector explained, as if reading Seth's thoughts. "The stories described so many unbelievable things that many people tried to dismiss half of it. Breaking the spell that had restrained the famous Elrod Clan for decades, earning the allegiance of the Frostbane Wyvern who watched over their bloodline for generations..." The man shook his head. "It all sounds surreal."

Seth's breathing slowed.

From Zakar's comments, he already understood the nature of the binding scroll: it had branded chains onto every living member of the Elrod Clan, himself included.

But the comment about Vorath made several pieces fall into place in Seth's mind.

The Frostbane Wyvern had talked about the growth and behavior of generations as if he had witnessed them firsthand. Seth hadn't understood how the wyvern could have known those things, but now the answer was obvious.

Vorath had been watching over and protecting many descendants of the Elrod Clan.

Is that why he's with Marcus now? Seth wondered. Because every Elrod besides me is dead?

"But what really made people doubt the whole thing was your title," Hector continued with a grin. "The moment the official report came in, everyone had no choice but to believe it. He Who Cannot Be Chained. If you only knew how many Primalists were jealous when they heard about it. It's exactly the kind of title every hunter dreams of earning. It makes you sound like some beast no cage could ever hold."

Seth couldn't help but smile—then his mouth twisted to the side. "Because of Kastal's former king and his isolationist laws, there are still a lot of things I don't know much about." He hesitated. "What exactly are those titles?"

"They represent an achievement significant enough to catch the attention of a god," Hector explained. "In your case, the Spirit overseeing your war likely reported what happened to one of them. Shattering that binding scroll was apparently enough to earn its interest. And to be honest, I'm not surprised. Plenty of veterans believe the Elrod Clan would have ruled over Draeria again long ago if any of them had been able to shatter them too."

Seth leaned forward. "Do you know anything else about those binding scrolls?"

"Not much beyond the stories everyone here has heard," Hector admitted. Then, he lowered his voice so the nearby tables couldn't eavesdrop. "Your father was still a legend to most Primalists, though. So we paid attention whenever the Elrod Clan was mentioned." He paused for a moment. "Some old folks claim the Bloodfangs and a coalition of rival clans only managed to defeat the Elrods because of the intervention of a god. After the war, that deity supposedly forged those scrolls to ensure the surviving Elrod bloodline could never rise against them again. And over the next century, the ruling clans simply turned those artifacts into tools of oppression."

Heat spread through Seth's chest, and his core stirred violently in response. Yet he forced himself to remain calm.

What Vorath had said in the neutral zone matched Hector's story: a damn god had been behind those chains.

As a child, Seth had always half-believed the gods were little more than fantasy brought to life by his mother's bedtime stories. Seeing the Spirit during the war had forced him to accept that they existed.

But knowing that one of them was behind the slaughter of the Elrod Clan was even more unsettling.

"They actually do things like that?" Seth asked. "Intervene in mortal affairs?"

"Not anymore," Hector answered, leaning back against the shelves behind him. "Nowadays they don't set foot in our world. Some people believe they chose to stop. Others think they lost the ability to cross whatever boundary separates their realm from ours. Whatever is true, I think we're better off this way."

The man's gaze swept across the bustling floor. "When a single being possesses more power than everyone else combined around them, things can turn ugly." A bitter smile then crossed Hector's face. "Very few can hold that kind of power without becoming tyrants. That's one of the reasons I've always preferred living in Rift Cities."

Seth couldn't help but agree. That balance of power was exactly how Kastal had ended up under King Theron's rule. Yet there was another obvious example.

"Isn't the situation basically the same with Shenlong here?" Seth asked.

"Yes, in a sense," Hector admitted with a nod. "The difference is that Shenlong has no interest in being worshipped or ruling over people. He just wants to watch talented Wielders push themselves to the very limit. As far as I know, that's about the best you could possibly hope for. The Rift Cities governed entirely by humans, or any humanoid race, really, always end up consumed by political schemes, and then they devolve into endless bloodshed."

Seth remained silent. That was exactly why he had sworn to reach the absolute peak of the food chain. To make sure somewhere could be free of such things.

"Do titles actually give any benefits?" he asked, deciding to steer the conversation back to the initial topic.

"Not really," Hector replied with a shrug. "In some cities, they can grant access to exclusive auctions, banquets, or other invitation-only events. Mostly, though, they're a way of enhancing your reputation. Plenty of people use them to justify charging outrageous sums for apprenticeships. In your case, I doubt it'll offer much value while you're in Asethka."

"Fantastic," Seth muttered with a sigh. "So it makes me more famous while giving zero advantages."

Hector laughed. "Don't be so disappointed. Depending on where you travel, a title might also grant access to restricted Rifts or other opportunities. I can't say for certain, though. Like I told you, I've never personally known anyone below Platinum who possessed one."

Access to exclusive Rifts...

At least that part sounded worthwhile.

"If you want," Hector added, "I can use your title as justification to grant you access to the guild's Silver shop."

"I'm not sure I need anything from it right now," Seth replied, rubbing his cheeks. "I'll take a look later, but first, I'll need to sell the pile of equipment I scavenged during the—"

Before Seth could finish, a shout erupted from the other end of the counter.

"Come on! Just display the request again for the gods' sake!"

Seth turned toward the commotion.

A stocky dwarf furiously waved a crumpled sheet of parchment above his head, though he was barely tall enough to see over the wood. His bald head and red braided beard reminded Seth of Renwal. But even shorter.

"Nobody's going to accept that contract!" one of the Den workers shouted back, his patience obviously exhausted. The young man had short blond hair and a pointed nose. He held a hand up, fingers spread wide, as if physically stopping himself from insulting the dwarf. "Especially not for such a reward!"

Hector frowned and pushed himself off the shelves. "What exactly is going on over here?"

"Hector!" the dwarf exclaimed, whirling toward the administrator. "Tell this bag of rocks to put my gathering request back on the Iron board!"

For the record, www.NovelPhoenix.com publishes the author's story, while this page copied its text without permission. Reading there supports the writer.

The young clerk standing across from him folded his arms. "It sat there for an entire month without a single applicant. It did nothing but take up space."

Hector held out his hand without a word.

The dwarf scrambled down the counter to shove the request into the man's palm. The Den's administrator read it in silence for several seconds before letting out a sigh.

"The Voiceless Vale? Freyt's right, it would be taking up room for nothing. Nobody goes into that Rift anymore." He looked up at the dwarf. "And he's also right about the payout. It's quite low for a mission somewhere that dangerous."

"What if I triple it?" the dwarf retorted, planting both palms on the counter to lift himself higher. "I guarantee some desperate party will take it. I need it done!"

"And that party would just die," Freyt replied flatly. "That place is riddled with Null ripples. Most Primalists don't hunt with a Priest. Undead beasts are a nightmare for any of us."

Seth's breathing hitched. Null. Like my affinity.

"Hector?"

The administrator turned toward him. "Hmm?"

"What exactly are Null ripples?" Seth asked.

Hector scratched his bearded cheek. "Are you aware of the Null affinity?"

Seth nodded. "Only a little."

"Well, just as some Rifts naturally contain regions saturated with Fire, Water, Darkness, or other affinities, a few contain areas saturated with Null affinity. As you probably know, Null tends to draw in nearby particles of aether from every other affinity." Hector's expression then turned serious. "The danger with the regions saturated by that affinity is that they periodically release what we call Null ripples. It's basically waves of unstable energy that spread across the landscape. The strongest ones can mimic the effects of a distortion field and prevent the use of both artifacts and spell-scrolls."

"It's not that bad!" the dwarf interrupted, turning eagerly toward Seth. "Strong ripples are rare! You should go see for yourself, young man!"

Freyt shot the dwarf a glare. "Rare? You gotta be kidding me? There's one every few hours in that Rift!"

Ignoring the exchange, Hector looked at Seth and continued, "The main issue is that Null ripples are unpredictable. A normal distortion field created by a high-tier beast or resource has fixed boundaries. If you stumble into one, you can usually run away. A Null ripple is different. It moves across the Rift like a breeze. One moment your spell-scrolls and artifacts work perfectly. The next, the ripple sweeps over you and leaves you helpless. And even if you try to flee, you might not escape its reach before something kills you."

"And to make matters worse, the Voiceless Vale is an Overgrown Rift," Freyt added. "You'd wind up swarmed by Silver beasts with no way to get out."

Seth kept his expression neutral, but his mind had already begun racing.

The first thing that struck him was how little these Null Ripples actually differed from the distortion fields he had already encountered. Whether in the Cave of Elements or the Desert of Misery, he had never been able to simply run out of one. Those fields had been caused by high-tier beasts that moved or flew through the Rift anyway.

How was that less dangerous than a drifting Null Ripple?

But that wasn't what caught his attention: it was the fact that the Null affinity could reproduce the effect.

Memories of the confrontation in the neutral zone between Zakar, Kaiser, and the NEVAK officers flashed through his mind. Every time one of the latter had tried to activate a spell-scroll or an artifact, Zakar had disrupted the activation.

Did he have a distortion rod hidden somewhere and I never noticed it? Seth wondered. Or did he also possess a Null affinity, and he somehow created distortion fields at will?

"Also, both the Undead and Null affinities are incredibly rare," Hector continued, completely misreading Seth's thoughtful silence. "Probably one person in ten thousand has one of those two affinities, if not fewer. That's another reason why no one trains or hunts the Voiceless Vale. Almost no one has a reason to go in that Rift."

"Money! That's the reason!" the dwarf blurted out, nearly slamming a fist onto the counter. He turned toward Seth. "Don't listen to them, young—" The dwarf froze, then his eyes narrowed before suddenly widening. "Wait... you're Seth Elrod! Ulric Elrod's son!"

He hurried along the counter until he was practically chest to chest with Seth. "You're exactly the man I need!" he exclaimed. "That Rift is nothing for someone like you!"

"Oh, stop it," Hector said, glaring down at the dwarf. "Even he could wind up dying in there."

Seth forced a troubled frown onto his face. Inside, however, both his heart and his core stirred with anticipation. A Rift saturated with Null aether would be the perfect training ground to explore the nature and limits of his own affinity. Perhaps it could even help him improve both Aura of Insatiable Hunger and Ravenous Arrow.

He masked his excitement, and instead held a hand out. "Can I see the contract?"

Hector sighed and pushed the parchment across the counter. "You should walk away from this one, young man."

"Don't listen to him!" the dwarf interjected, his voice almost cracking. "I need Hollow Shards, and they only grow in the Voiceless Vale. They're the final component for a commission I've already accepted. If I fail to deliver, I'll lose the payment." His shoulders slumped. "My daughter finally has a chance to earn the apprenticeship she's dreamed about her whole life. I need that money."

Several steps away, Freyt rolled his eyes. Clearly, the employee of the Den didn't believe the story.

Seth lowered his gaze to the contract.