Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

The woman who strode through the coliseum moved with a predatory grace that commanded attention. She appeared to be in her forties, though her face was a mask of timeless beauty and her presence so dominant it seemed to bend the air around her. A tight-fitting robe of imperial blue clung to her athletic frame, and her jet-black hair was swept up into an intricate tuck, which was held in place by a series of crimson rods that looked more like weapons than ornaments.

As she advanced, Seth noticed something strange: the gazes of the nobles and officers in the stands—both from Kastal and the Empire—were not entirely on her. Many of them looked lower, fixed on the floor just behind her heels.

Only once the woman had sat on her granite throne did Seth see why.

A large snake slithered up the side of the massive chair. Its scales were the color of sun-bleached bone, and its eyes shimmered with a deep violet as it turned to watch the crowd. The creature coiled around the Empress' shoulders like a living mantle; its head settled beside hers before its forked tongue began flicking silently through the air.

A contracted beast, Seth thought, trying to go through the pages of his father's encyclopedia mentally. He really wanted to learn more about it, but it would be stupid to cast Identify on it and risk pissing off the strongest person in the whole place.

"An Oracle Snake," Director Ryehill muttered under his breath behind Seth.

Oracle Snake. Seth repeated the name in his mind a few times. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it.

Before anyone said anything else, two more figures entered the arena and cut through the ambient tension like a blade. They didn't wear the colors of Kastal or the Bridan Empire and instead were clad in armor that blended chain mail and fitted plates with a layered fabric draped across their chests. The pieces of equipment were flawless, forged with a craftsmanship so precise they seemed destined to be sported during ceremonies—yet there was no doubt the metal could also take a hit.

Neither of them wore a helmet, giving Seth a clear view of their faces. Both had sharp features and skin as pale as snow. The woman's long black hair spilled down her back, while the man's was cropped short. Their eyes swept over the crowd with a chilling detachment.

Stitched across their chests gleamed an emblem: a sun split neatly in two halves—one gold and one black—and encircled by five small stars. The crest pulsed with aether as they walked without haste, each step echoing with an authority that had hushed even the murmurs in the stands.

"The NEVAK representatives," Elena whispered, her voice tight with a mix of awe and apprehension.

As the two armored figures approached the royal platform, King Theron rose to his feet and stared down at the arena. "Director Cranner, you may begin the matches."

Director Cranner of Oskon Academy gave the man a short bow, then made his way to the center of the arena to meet the leader of the fighters from the Bridan delegation. The two men began exchanging a few words too low for Seth to catch from this distance.

Seth's eyes flicked back for an instant to the Empress, who was now engaged in conversation with the King and the officers of the NEVAK, then his gaze moved to the line of ten Bridanis standing opposite his teammates.

His eyes swept over them, then stopped. On the left of the line stood a young man and a young woman with strikingly similar features yet expressions that were opposites. The woman's long, dark hair framed a face filled with fierce determination. There was a thin, pale scar running from below her left eye down to her cheek.

Seth's eyes then widened as he examined the young man beside her… it was the frail young boy from the alley. The same matching dark hair and eyes, the same devoid countenance. And a x-shaped scar on his left cheek.

Without wasting a second, Seth activated Intermediate Identify.