Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

"Why are you following me?" Seth asked as he stepped out of the forest's shadow.

The young woman didn't answer. Instead, she walked over to the nearest scorched corpse and crouched down beside it. She unhooked the Endless Pouch from the belt of the heavyset fighter who had probably been a Guardian. "You could thank me first," she said at last.

"You didn't have to kill them for me," Seth answered, his posture remaining rigid. "I would've been fine."

"That's not the point." The dark elf tossed the pouch into the air before catching it again. "Those people were nothing but a waste of time for either you or me."

Seth blinked. He couldn't really argue with her logic. It was simply... an odd way of looking at things.

"You took their pouches, though," he pointed out. "Seems like you got something out of it."

The woman let out a dramatic sigh. "As if those bottom-feeders carried anything of actual worth." She suddenly turned her head to one side, almost resting her chin against her shoulder. "No, I'm not being rude," she muttered.

Seth frowned. She wasn't looking at him, nor had those words been to him. It sounded as if she were speaking to someone who wasn't there.

Is she talking to herself?

A second later, quieter this time, she mumbled, "You wouldn't have done any better as a first impression."

Seth's brow knit together even more. Does she realize I can hear her?

His gaze swept over her equipment and lingered on the sapphire amulet hanging around her neck.

A contracted beast?

It was possible. But speaking to it aloud defeated part of the bond's advantage... and made her look unhinged.

Then, as abruptly as an expression could change, the woman's coldness vanished, and genuine disappointment surged across her features. The look made it clear she'd hoped he would have reacted differently or show some gratitude.

Feeling awkward, Seth cleared his throat. "Thank you for dealing with them."

The dark elf snapped her head toward him, and a spark lit her gaze. For a moment, Seth felt like he was standing in front of a different woman.

She sprang to her feet and swept an arm out before dropping into a theatrical bow. "The pleasure is mine."

Seth watched her in silence. Then he turned on his heel. "Well, I'll be going."

"Wait!" The woman's boots thudded behind as she hurried after him.

Seth stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. "What?"

"I'm coming with you."

His eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

The dark elf stopped a few paces away and planted her hands on her hips. "Why not?"

"Because we don't know each other?"

"And?" She tilted her head, meeting his gaze with surprising confidence. "I don't see why that should stop us from traveling together."

"I prefer traveling alone," Seth answered flatly.

"Me too!" she exclaimed, an obvious excitement flashing across her face. "We have so much in common! We should absolutely travel together!" The woman then once again turned her head toward her shoulder, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Stop. I don't sound crazy."

Yes, you do, Seth thought.

'I don't think she means you any harm,' Colossus said through Link.

'Perhaps. But she clearly seems unwell,' Nightmare added. 'And she's way too interested in you.'

Seth suppressed another sigh as he considered the situation. Colossus was right. She hadn't shown any hostility. If anything, she had just protected him by killing the people following him.

Besides, once he entered the Rift, she'd almost certainly leave him alone. Everyone at the Primalist Den had treated the Voiceless Vale like somewhere people go if they wanted to die.

"Fine," Seth said at last. "You can come with me."

The dark elf threw both arms into the air. "Awesome!" A radiant smile spread across her face, then she tilted her head toward her shoulder once more. "Told you."

Seth and the dark elf walked in the forest, where patches of sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead. An awkward silence had settled between them.

For several minutes, the only sounds were the crunch of their boots over fallen leaves and the distant birds hidden among the branches.

Then the woman spoke. "Do you like fruit?" Her tone was oddly stiff, as if she had rehearsed the question a dozen times in her head.

Seth blinked, taken aback by the question. "Eh, sure."

He expected the dark elf to reach into her cloak and offer him an apple or a pear, but she just kept walking, hands swinging at her sides.

"What about the color green?"

Nightmare let out a groan through Link. 'Yep. She's completely insane.'

"I like it about as much as any other color," Seth replied, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Why am I even answering these questions?

He really needed to get better at telling people no. This whole situation would have been preventable.

"You don't have a favorite?"

"Not really."

The weird interrogation continued. Favorite season, favorite weather, favorite animal, favorite kind of bread—the woman asked one pointless question after another.

And they slowly gnawed at Seth's sanity, and it didn't take long for him to seriously consider breaking into a sprint just to escape. Never in his life had he felt so exhausted from walking through a forest.

At last, they broke past the tree line and reached a rocky plain.

"Do you prefer sleeping on your back or on your side?" the dark elf asked as she stepped across several broken stones.

A source check reveals an unapproved copy here; the author's chapter is on NovelPhoenix, where reading supports the writer.

Seth drew another deep breath, ready to finally let out a sigh. Yet before he could, movement caught his attention.

Far across the plain, a woman was sprinting toward them.

Three men chased her, leaving a trail of dust behind. One carried a broadsword, the second a spear, and the third a pair of short swords.

The dark elf fell silent beside Seth, and her violet eyes followed his gaze.

Marcus and Vorath had warned him that even if Asethka was relatively safe, the wilderness around the city was filled with bandits eager to ambush Wielders.

Seth narrowed his eyes.

The fleeing woman was stumbling repeatedly and looked exhausted. Her clothes clung to her frame and had been shredded, while a bit of blood covered some of her skin.

Yet something felt... wrong.

Every single one of her wounds was superficial. It was as if they had been there to convince people she was injured without actually being life-threatening.

"Help!" she screamed, waving her arms as she ran closer. "Please! Help me!"

Instead of dashing forward, Seth cast Intermediate Identify on both the woman and the three men chasing her.