Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

The world twisted, stretching into a chaotic smear of aether before snapping violently back into focus.

A wave of oppressive heat hit Seth like a physical blow, and the gritty wind that rushed against his skin offered no real relief. Soon after, Henry, Frederick, and the rest of their squad materialized around him on the cracked, sunbaked ground.

Around them stretched a rugged landscape, a desolate basin of arid desert floor broken up by towering, craggy mountains in the distance.

Warfare Rifts were always different from each other, with terrain supposedly altered by the supervising Spirit to prevent any side from having a tactical advantage. This Spirit's taste is annoying, Seth thought.

"This is not great for us," Henry muttered, shielding his eyes as he scanned the wide-open expanse.

"Yeah, we're screwed," someone grumbled from the back.

Seth couldn't do anything but agree. Their squad's greatest asset was its high number of Rogues, which enabled them to launch effective ambushes. But here? There was zero cover. Just flat, exposed ground and a few massive, weathered boulders scattered about like pebbles.

Hiding completely would be nearly impossible.

The only small mercy was the heat haze shimmering off the ground. The air rippled so violently on the horizon that the distant mountains looked like oil paintings left in the sun. It might make it harder for the enemy to spot the blur of the invisibility spells, but not by much.

"There!" Eddin shouted, pointing toward the foothills to their left.

Seth turned. Miles away, hunkered against the base of the mountains, stood a dark, imposing silhouette. A fortress. Its high stone walls seemed to be the only man-made structure in this entire wood-stove Rift.

So this is how it's going to be, Seth thought. An open field with defensible points. A battle of attack and siege.

In terrain like this, the strategy for the weaker side was painfully obvious: turtling. His side had to reach that fortress, dig in, and wait for the empire to come to them, then make them bleed for every step they took to get closer.

The thought of a long, drawn-out defensive battle left a sour taste in Seth's mouth.

"We need those walls," Henry barked, not waiting for a debate. "Move out. Double time."

The Warrior broke into a sprint, motioning for Seth and the squad to follow. They ran in a tight, nervous formation, their armor and grey uniforms making them painfully visible targets against the ochre sand.

Every cluster of rocks, every dip in the terrain, felt like the maw of a trap waiting to snap shut. The members of the squad shouted fragmented plans over the sound of their own boots and heavy breathing—what to do if they were caught in the open, how to circle up.

But their luck held.

They reached the fortress without encountering any enemies, the looming shadow of its walls a welcome relief from the relentless sun. Henry, Eddin, and a few others threw their shoulders against the massive timber gates to force them open, then closed them with a heavy thud that echoed in the sudden silence of the place.

They stood in a sprawling courtyard, large enough to garrison a small army. High walls of dark, rough-hewn stone surrounded them, topped with multiple watchtowers—perfect vantage points for Toren's arcane cannons. Seth placed a hand on the gate they'd just sealed; the wood hummed under his palm, indicating it was warded.

It'll take more than a few Fireballs to get through that, he thought. They'll need a heavy siege tool. Or a lot of explosive artifacts

Henry and Eddin wasted no time. Orders flew across the yard as they split the squad into a defensive formation. Rogues with bows and the few Elementalists scrambled up the stone stairs to man the ramparts, while the Guardians and Warriors formed a phalanx near the gate, ready to charge at the entrance the moment it was breached. The squad's two Priests requisitioned a sheltered alcove near the rear, turning it into a makeshift aid station where they could heal the wounded and send them back into the fight.

Well… those able to do so.

They had already agreed that anyone too grievously injured would use an Escape scroll to leave the Warfare Rift.

As people kept preparing, Seth withdrew and sent his consciousness into the teardrop necklace to cast Intermediate Identify on Nightmare. The power of Mantle of Terror on the plains had been absurd—far beyond its theoretical limits. Because of the rush, Henry hadn't asked Seth about it, but the squad's leader would certainly sooner or later.