Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

Seth trudged up the rocky incline, loose stones crunching softly beneath his boots. The Brown-Peak Mountains stretched around him, sharp peaks and steep slopes shrouded in thin mist, patches of stubborn greenery clinging desperately to the harsh terrain. In the distance, jagged cliffs loomed while drifting clouds dotted the pale sky.

Ahead, Orwen advanced with determined strides, his silver hair and beard catching the sunlight. Twin blades hung at his sides and swayed with each step while his leather armor clung to his broad shoulders. A large, unfazed smile stretched across his face—as if the five-hour caravan ride and the two-hour climb hadn’t worn on him in the slightest.

Krystel walked gracefully beside the man, her serene face framed by soft brown curls while her white robe flowed gently around her, and her staff rested firmly in her grasp. On Orwen’s other side, Drack’s bald head gleamed under the sun, and the man’s thick plate armor clanked every time he moved.

Just a few steps behind, Lyria walked with her sleek ebony bow slung across her back and her blond ponytail swaying. Beside her was Professor Reat, who for once wasn’t wearing the academy uniform or casual clothes and was instead clad in rune-covered leather armor; his arms hanging loosely around the dark staff on his shoulders, giving him an odd scarecrow-like look.

As they all climbed higher, Seth reached out to Nightmare through Link. 'Do you really think this will work?'

'I have no idea,' the direwolf answered. 'But I trust that overly cheerful man.'

Seth drifted back a little bit, glancing at Orwen’s figure ahead. 'Heprobably thinks Colossus is an Iron beast. I don't know if eggs of higher Tier need more time to hatch. Four days might not be enough.'

Just then, the silver-haired man glanced over his shoulder, his grin flashing. "Make sure to stay close, kid. It'll be easier for us to protect you."

Seth nodded and jogged to catch up with the group, but before he could reach them, the ground beneath his feet trembled. A deep, grinding rumble echoed through the canyon along the mountain ridge as massive shapes burst forth from the earth like ancient titans waking from a long slumber.

Golems. Each the size of a full caravan, their bodies made of jagged stone that glinted with veins of glowing ore. Their arms were thicker than tree trunks, ending in massive fists, and their heads, barely distinguishable from the rest of their boulder-like forms, bore two hollow eye sockets that burned faintly with brown aether.

Seth’s core violently stirred in his chest, and he activated Intermediate Identify—only for question marks to fill his vision.