Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

(This is an extra chapter, make sure you read the previous one first!)

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Seth limped forward in the dark corridor leading to the coliseum’s open arena, every step causing sharp jolts of pain through his broken left arm, which dangled helplessly at his side. He had tried to immobilize it with his other hand, but the last two grotesquely contorted fingers refused to clench his shoulder.

Blood kept dripping from both the battered digits and the mangled mess that was his nose, staining his leather armor. Despite having taken a potion, it would need an hour to heal injuries like these, and he was already late for his fight.

A few steps ahead, the coliseum was buzzing like a hive, and Seth could already see some of the thousands of spectators chatting as they waited for his fight. Nobles sat in the first few rows, all dressed lavishly, the gold and jewels of their garments shimmering in the sunlight while poorly dressed commoners were crammed in the stands above

As Seth stepped onto the clay of the arena, all gazes moved to him and the whole building fell into a deep, suffocating silence. Not a single word or whisper came.

Among the crowd, Seth found Elena, Devus, and Jenna at their usual location on the left, their faces distorted by shock and horror. The noblewoman and the Warrior jumped to their feet in obvious rage and glared at Lucius, who stood in the middle of the ring with his usual arrogance, draped in a majestic purple-and-black robe.

Behind Elena, Renwal’s and Mael’s faces showed barely any surprise or anger and were instead filled with sadness and a resigned acceptance—like those of all the commoners around them.

This was their fate. The punishment that was waiting for them if they dared climb too high. The message was loud and clear: stay down, bow to the Houses, and don’t ever think about defying them.

High up, behind the railings, Seth then noticed a group of seven figures standing together. They were too far away for him to see their faces clearly, but he immediately recognized Lyria’s long blond hair and Professor Reat’s black ponytail. Both of them, along with who seemed to be Orwen, Drack, and Krystel, were looking at Seth, while the two smaller figures at the extremities were flailing their arms, gesticulating in all directions: Yline and Toren.

Even from this distance, Seth could feel their anger. They probably didn’t appreciate that someone from the Faertis House had beaten the shit out of their new recruit before his fight. But what could they do about it without any proof?

Captain Michaelson stepped forward with widened eyes, his stern demeanor quickly replaced with deep concern. "Kid, what happened to you?"

Lucius smiled on the other side. "He probably fell out of his bed this morning."

'I swear I’ll rip his throat!' Nightmare growled from within his necklace.

"You won’t be laughing when I’m done with you.." Seth spat blood onto the ground, glancing at the noble then at the captain. As if telling him would change anything, he thought before shifting his attention to the spectators behind.

His golden eyes landed on the distant stand near Director Ryehill, where those of the Faertis House sat proudly. Among the dozen laughing men and women, Seth easily recognized Sergeant Faertis, as well as Lucius’ two other brothers, who were also instructors at the academy.

Then, his gaze locked onto the central figure next to them with long blond hair emanating a threatening aura: Lucius’ father, the head of the Faertis House. That man was the reason behind nearly all the suffering around Seth.

The noble had crushed everyone’s spirit in Sunatown with suffocating taxes, let one of his lackeys turn Seth’s house into ashes, and given Lucius the means to shatter Renwal’s arms for no damn reason—on top of allowing another son to sell young Wielders like livestock to beasts for enhancers.

"Whatever happened, you’re in no condition to fight. You need a Priest as soon as possible," Captain Michaelson said.

Seth turned toward the man, his expression flat. The offer was hollow, and they both knew it. Would a Priest really change anything?

Even if Krystel from the Champions of Chaos cast a spell right now, or if Seth downed a potion, the bone wouldn't fuse back instantly. It took time for the aether to fuse the structure back together strong enough to bear weight—just like Renwal, who couldn't use his right arm for a while even after it was healed by a Cure Wounds scroll.

Sure, High-Tier spells could theoretically achieve instant results, but Seth’s body couldn't handle them. He would need a Healing Prism to dilute the energy over several hours or days just to survive the process, exactly like the blacksmith.

There was no quick fix.

Captain Michaelson grimaced and began to raise his hand. "Lucius wi—"

"No, I can fight, sir," Seth said, interrupting the man while bowing his head. "One arm is more than enough."

Lucius’ face flushed red, and veins bulged from his neck. "You little—"

"Enough!" the captain snapped before turning to Seth, looking at him from head to toes, stopping a few seconds on his broken arm. "You’re sure? It will just make your injuries worse."

"Yes, sir. I’m sure."

The man sighed heavily, shaking his head. "As you wish."

"Thank you, sir."

The captain extended his arm to give him a Protecting Belt, and a troubled frown creased Seth's forehead. He glanced down at his mangled fingers and closed his eyes briefly, knowing exactly what he had to do. Every fiber of his body screamed in protest, but with a deep breath, he bit down hard on one of his broken fingers. The next second, he pulled and yanked it back into place with his jaw.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

A surge of pain shot through Seth's arm, forcing him to grit his teeth to muffle a guttural scream. Then, he repeated the process once more with the second finger, causing a grunt to escape his lips. Even after getting burned alive hundreds of times by One-horned Imps and getting slashed many more times by Gnolls over the past week, this shit still hurt like hell.

Gritting his teeth, he then took the belt from Captain Michaelson with a shaky hand.

Blood trickled down from Seth’s mouth as he fumbled for a few seconds with the defensive artifact before finally securing it at his hips and heading to his side of the arena. Even though his legs hadn't sustained any serious injuries, each step still sent pain rippling through his broken arm and shattered nose. The moment he reached the white cross painted on the ground and turned, his eyes fell once more on the stand occupied by the Faertis House.

They all sat there, full of arrogance and pride, convinced that they were untouchable, apex predators that should be feared by all—but were they? Could they jump into the ring and kill him for what he had done to the Black Hounds?

No, they couldn’t.

The director and the Champions of Chaos wouldn’t let that pass. Beating him before his fight was likely the limits of what they could do without facing real consequences. Their power wasn't infinite or absolute.

Seth’s golden eyes locked on Lucius.

Whatever happened in this ring, the only thing the Faertis House could do was watch. A disdainful commoner could beat and crush their own kin, and at the moment, they couldn’t do a single thing about it.

I’ll still have to bow to them for years, Seth thought. But not here. Not in this ring. It's time to strike back and make one of them pay. Make one of them bleed.

Captain Michaelson raised his hand on the side of the arena. "Activate your belts!"

Taking a deep breath, Seth infused aether into his belt and pushed all the pain to the back of his mind. As the blue protecting layer enveloped him, he cast Huntbound Rush, then used Intermediate Identify on Lucius, whose smirk deepened on the other side.