Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

There's no way I can beat any of them, Seth thought despondently as he watched Selena claim victory in the twelfth fight with a perfect arrow, striking her opponent, a Rank-10 Warrior, right between the eyes.

By now, all twenty-four participants had competed at least once. At first, Seth believed there were two he might have a chance against, but as the matches went on, he realized he'd misjudged. Anyway, the odds of facing those two specifically in each of his next rounds were slim to none. And even if he got that lucky, the fights would still be extremely tough—especially with a broken knife and no arrows. If only he had time to run to the market for replacements. At the very least, he'd be able to put up a good fight.

"We'll begin the second round in five minutes," Professor Reat said, walking toward Marine. "So stay close."

"Seriously, mate, I'd rather die than end up against another Rogue," Devus said beside him.

A pang of jealousy squeezed Seth's chest. Sure, the Rank-11 Guardian had needed to run a lot during his fight to reach his opponent—a Rank-10 Rogue with a bow—but he had still won. One more win and he would secure his place at Trogan academy.

Seth forced a fake smile. "It'll probably be a Warrior or another Guardian. You'll be fine."

"Yeah… you're right," Devus replied. "But there's still a one-in-three chance I'll face a Rogue, an Elementalist, or a Priest."

"And you'd still find a way to win," Seth said, his patience starting to wear thin.

His new friend had an enchanted spear, an enchanted shield, and plenty of spells—how could he possibly lose? Seth had a feeling most participants couldn't even break through the Guardian's defense. He didn't want to say anything about his sponsor—the one paying for his gear and spells in exchange for future services—but one thing was sure: that sponsor was stinking rich.

Rubbing his neck, Seth was trying to figure out how he could win with only a broken knife and Quick Step when he noticed a familiar-looking short, bald man with a red beard approaching them with a large leather bag.

Seth stepped aside from the other participants to meet Renwal.

"What are you doing here?" he asked the blacksmith. "Weren't you supposed to be at the market selling your things today?'

"Sold them all in an hour. I'm just that great." Renwal shrugged with a broad grin full of pride. "But I still missed your first fight."

"That's fine," Seth answered. "You didn't miss much. I got my ass kicked." He then showed his broken hunting knife. "And my knife didn't make it in one piece."

"Yeah, one of the spectators told me about that," Renwal said. "But he also said you nearly won!"

"But I still lost," Seth pointed out. "And now I'll have to fight with a broken knife and no arrows."

Renwal's grin widened. "And why do you think I'm here?"

The blacksmith swung the large bag off his back and stooped down to reach inside. He then took out two handfuls of arrows and set them on the ground before pulling out a sheathed hunting knife identical to Seth's, as well as a small throwing dagger.

"Take these," Renwal said, holding out both blades.

A mix of joy and gratitude washed over Seth, and for a brief moment, he couldn't speak. When words finally came out, his voice seemed to be stuck in his throat. "Thanks, Renwal."

The blacksmith rubbed the back of his bald head, looking slightly embarrassed as Seth took the weapons. "It's no big deal. Now, you'll have a fair—"

"Why are you giving this good-for-nothing arrows? He'll just run in circles again," came a scornful voice.

Seth turned and found Lucius Faertis with his hands crossed a few steps away. The amount of anger etched into the noble's features was baffling. Why the hell does he hate me so much?

Renwal quickly bowed. "Sorry, sir. He's a friend of mine, and I was just—"

"No one needs a friend so weak," Lucius said, cutting the blacksmith off. "Five copper coins if you keep those arrows for yourself."

Seth's heart skipped a beat. Five. Copper. Coins.

"Oh, uh… sorry, sir, but I can't do that," Renwal mumbled, shaking his head. "These arrows are his, not mine. I was just holding onto them for him.''

"How dare you lie to—"

"Lucius and Seth go back with the others," Professor Reat interjected, looking even more annoyed than before. "The second round is about to begin."

Lucius shot Seth and Renwal a venomous glare before spinning on his heels and walking away.

Quickly, the blacksmith grabbed all the arrows and handed them to Seth, giving him a wink. "Your arrows."

"Thank you," Seth whispered, mouthing in disbelief.

Sure, he and Renwal had known each other for quite some time, but they were talking about five coppers. With that much, the blacksmith could have bought three awakening stones, paid for the taxes, and possibly even become a Wielder—yet he had turned down the offer without an ounce of hesitation.

A bright smile lit up Renwal's face. "Guess I'm the personal blacksmith of a Wielder now."

"And my sponsor, since I didn't pay for any of this," Seth added with a shrug.

"Sure!" Renwal laughed.

Seth loaded the arrows into his quiver, strapped the new hunting blade to his legs, and tucked the throwing dagger into one of his pockets before heading back to Devus' side. My chances just went up.

"For the second round, to keep things fair, you'll each face someone of the opposite Rank from your first opponent," Professor Reat announced, standing next to Marine. "So, for example, if you fought one of the highest Ranks here, you'll now go against one of the lowest, and vice versa. Anyone who loses a second time must leave. Those who win will need to wait until the end of the selection to get registered by Miss Vancaws here or myself. If you have one win and one loss, you'll fight a third match after another short break."

Seth's heart immediately sank. All the participants were between Rank 10 and 12, except for two Rank 9s, himself at Rank 6, and three silver-spooned nobles at Rank 14—one of them being the Faertis prick. Since he had first fought Herbin, one of two Rank 9s, it meant he would now go up against one of the three Rank 14s.

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And just like that, he felt his chances evaporate.

"Lucius Faertis and Seth, you're up first," Professor Reat said.

A dozen feet away, the blonde-haired noble let out a cold chuckle. "At least this time it will be quick."

Seth headed toward the center of the training field, glancing at the other participants on the way. Most were smiling—some grinning from ear to ear, clearly delighted at the idea of seeing him getting his ass kicked, while others smirked behind their hands, probably relieved they wouldn't be the ones facing the noble. Among the few who didn't show such joy were Devus, who wore a mournful expression, and Selena with her stony face devoid of any emotions.

As the blue layer of aether enveloped him, Seth nocked an arrow at his bow and channeled aether meticulously through Quick Step's grooves. There was no way he could actually win against the noble, but maybe he could land a hit or two, just to wipe that smirk off the man's arrogant face.

"So, how do you want this to end," Lucius said. "With a Fireball in your face, or… with a Fireball in your face?"

"Fight!" Professor Reat shouted, swinging his hand down.

Seth instantly loosed his arrow and sprinted forward. Aether flowed through Quick Step and plunged into his legs, filling them to the brim and strengthening each step. If he could prevent that rich bastard from casting his first Fireball, it would all come to physical attributes. Even though he hadn't been able to see the Elementalist' Strength and Agility, chances were they weren't that high.

Stepping aside, Lucius dodged the arrow and began casting. In an instant, a small cloud of tiny blue particles swirled out of his wand and formed a thin, almost-invisible, crescent-shaped barrier in front of him.

Seth's first thought was to run sideways for a better angle, but he then quickly came up with another plan.

Let's make you dance a little, he thought, aiming at the sky before releasing his arrow in an arc.

A Fireball appeared at the tip of Lucius' wand. "Eat tha—"

Just as the noble was about to launch his spell, he glanced up to search for the projectile, squinting against the sun's rays; the moment he moved to the side to dodge, the blazing orb hovering at his wand's tip vanished.

Seth smirked. It seemed like the Elementalist couldn't keep his focus with such a small distraction—too bad for him. Seizing that chance, Seth pressed on, firing several more arrows high into the sky while closing the distance.

With a frustrated grunt, Lucius stopped moving and focused entirely on casting his next spell, this time pointing his wand at the ground. One of Seth's arrows struck the blue layer covering the noble's head, yet he remained still, his face twisting with anger. The air above the arena's floor rippled; then, like an invisible serpent, it bolted toward Seth.

Shit. How do I dodge that?

Trying to predict when it would hit, Seth jumped and twisted to the side. But to his surprise, the spell halted as soon as he left the ground.

"I'm controlling it," Lucius laughed.

A hand of dirt suddenly sprang from the arena's floor and grasped Seth's leg, locking him in place. He instinctively tried to yank himself free, pushing even more aether into Quick Step's grooves, but without success—the hand had turned into solid rock. Even with all his aether, there was no way he could break out. The fight was over.

Then let's give that bastard a proper farewell, Seth thought, pouring every bit of his remaining aether in his right arm, bearing through the ripping pain as his muscles bulged and swelled.

"Look at you," Faertis snarled, summoning a fireball while the barrier in front of him began to fade. "One spell and you're completely helpless."

Right when the flame reached the size of a head, Lucius hurled it toward Seth. Leg still trapped in the stone, Seth ducked forward—the blazing ball licked at his back before exploding behind him. Using his bent torso for cover, he quickly grabbed the last part of Renwal's gift, which was still inside his pocket.

Seth then straightened up in a flash and violently whipped his arm, flinging the throwing knife toward Lucius' face. The blade pierced through the thin, flickering barrier with ease and struck the Elementalist right between his eyes, bouncing off against the aether layer on his skin.

The knife clattered to the ground, and an absolute silence fell over the training field. Everyone in the stands seemed to be holding their breath.

Seth fought through the aether-deprived weakness and stayed on his feet, staring at Lucius' shocked face. That prick had finally shut his mouth. Getting hit twice by a Primalist must be a real hit to your little pride.

As his muscles trembled and spasmed, Seth laboriously raised his hand despite the intense pain searing through his shoulder. The violent throwing motion and the large amount of aether had likely torn something inside. "Professor Reat, I'd like to forfeit."

The moment the black-haired man turned to him, Seth found himself involuntarily relaxing. It was over. There was no point fighting anymore. His Well was completely empty, and his legs were barely supporting him. Continuing would only make him look like a complete fool. Hopefully he—Shit.

A sudden blinding flash filled Seth's vision, then a crushing force snapped his head back. A sharp, intense pain surged through his leg as he fell backward, the stone hand still clenching his limb tightly in place but leaving his knee free to bend.

Flat on his back, Seth gritted his teeth, barely suppressing a scream while staring at the cloudless sky.

Professor Reat's loud voice boomed across the ring. "LUCIUS! STAND DOWN!"

Wincing, Seth propped himself up on one elbow, and a second later a warm, comforting breeze enveloped him and reduced the giant hand around his leg to dust.

"Attacking when your opponent has surrendered? Really?" Professor Reat's usual unfazed face was now a brewing storm. "If you weren't a Faertis, I'd eject you right now!"

Lucius smirked. "He didn't speak clearly. I couldn't hear—"

"Keep your mouth shut and go with the others," the professor hissed, glaring at the blond noble.

"How dare you speak to me like that?" Lucius retorted, anger distorting his perfect features. "My father could kill you if I asked him to."

The professor threw his hands up. "Great! Tell him I'll be at my home between seven and ten. Now, go stand with the others and stop wasting everyone's time."

Seth staggered to his feet, wincing as a sharp pain flared through his left leg. He tested his weight cautiously, taking a hesitant step forward. Thankfully, the pain was bearable, hinting that no bones were broken inside. Clenching his searing shoulder, he then limped toward Renwal, who was standing by the nearest stand.

Devus flashed him two thumbs up from the edge of the ring, prompting a smile from Seth and a farewell wave. The odds of crossing paths again with the Guardian were slim—he would certainly win his next fight and secure a spot at the academy.

Renwal's eyes narrowed as Seth approached him. "You alright?"

Seth nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Yeah. Pretty sure I tore something in my shoulder and leg, but I'll be fine."

"You should stop by Vandric's before he leaves," the blacksmith answered. "He could take a look."

"I'll see how's the pain tomorrow," Seth replied, testing his arm with a small wince. "If it's worse, I'll go."

Renwal scratched his beard, giving Seth a quick once-over before crossing his arms. "So, that's why you forfeited? Because of your arm?"

"And because I was out of aether," Seth replied before vigorously rubbing his legs. "Figured it was better than eating Fireball after Fireball to the face."

"And yet that's exactly what happened," Renwall chuckled.

Seth rolled his golden eyes. "I'd like to see you fight an Elementalist. Maybe your belly could block the attacks for you."

"At least I wouldn't have caused such a scene," the blacksmith answered, glancing at Lucius among the other participants. "Pissing off a noble wasn't exactly your best idea."

"No, but it felt great." Seth said, his lips raising into a crooked smile. "And I couldn't just let that spoiled brat have an easy win. Also, his tax collector burned down my house, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but still," the blacksmith retorted before rubbing his face. "We better stay out of sight until we leave." He then paused and looked at the two young women who were taking place at the center of the arena. "Do you wanna find somewhere discreet to watch the other fights?"

Seth shook his head. "Nah. I've got something else to do."

Marine had told him to go see Professor Reat before leaving, but now that Seth had lost twice, what was the point? Staying would only waste time. Instead, he should focus on what truly mattered; getting stronger.

Ever since awakening as a Primalist, he'd mentally prepared himself for the possibility of failing the selections. Deep down, the disappointment didn't hit as hard as he'd expected—especially now that he had Nightmare at his side. Sure, getting into Trogan Academy would've been nice, but it had only ever been a stepping-stone toward his real goal. The academy meant access to knowledge—about Wielders, aether, attributes, combat techniques, spellcraft, the Path. About how to grow stronger and finally break free from the miserable life of relentless work under the boot of the tax collector and the noble Houses.

But since he failed the selections, he'd have to find another way to gain that knowledge on his own.

"What's that?" Renwal asked, raising an eyebrow.

A smile crossed Seth's face. "Joining the Adventurers Guild."