Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

Seth yanked out his bow, yet before he could nock an arrow, a large, blurry figure grabbed both his wrists and slammed him face-down to the ground. A knee then pinned him down, crushed his sternum against the cobblestone, and forced all the air out of his lungs. He tried to wrench his hands free from his assailant's grasp, but without success. The man was just too damn strong.

"Did you really think you could leave without facing consequences?" Lucius asked with a sneer, strolling toward Renwal, who was also being held down by one of the noble's lackeys. "What is your profession, Mister Liar?"

"He didn't lie!" Seth yelled in a desperate attempt to take the blame. "It was my arrows and my knife!"

"No, it wasn't!" Lucius shouted back. "I saw the look on your face!"

"He was just trying to help me," Seth said, glancing at Renwal wincing under the man. "Set him free. I'm the only one who should pay."

Lucius' gaze remained cold as ice. "No. He lied to a noble and needs to learn the price." The blond noble then crouched next to Renwal. "Don't make this worse for everyone. Answer the question. What's your profession?"

Renwal swallowed loudly before answering with a shaking voice. "I—I'm a blacksmith."

"A blacksmith, huh?" Lucius straightened up, and his lips curled up in a faint smile as he turned to the third man. "Break his arms."

"No!" Seth screamed, jerking and kicking frantically as he tried to free himself.

Gleaming silver chains shot out of the street and coiled around Renwal's arms, holding them straight onto the ground. The blacksmith shut his eyes and his face tightened, as if he had already accepted his fate.

"You know… I've changed my mind," Lucius said, a giant grin digging deep into his cheeks. "Shatter them. Make sure he never holds a hammer again."

The third man unslung a large golden shield from his back. With a blur of blinding power, he then swung it down onto Renwal's arms. The shield struck with a thunderous crack, and a blood-curdling scream ripped from the blacksmith's throat.

Seth froze, and a thick fog engulfed his mind, not believing the horrific scene before him—Renwal crying out in pain, his face covered with a mix of blood splatters, snot, and tears, as Lucius' man lifted his shield, revealing the blacksmith's mangled arms, clothes soaked in blood and pierced by shards of broken bones.

"Break the few bones sticking out, just to be sure," Lucius ordered. "Oh, and take your time."

"Ple-please!" Renwal whimpered between cries of pain, staring at the large leather boot pressing down on his flattened limbs.

Seth's core erupted in his chest as his heart pounded in his ears, drowning all the sounds—the snapping bones, Renwal's screams, Lucius' sadistic chuckle. The mysterious energy surging through his veins wasn't asking for a fight anymore—it wanted more. It needed a life.

"Now, your turn," Lucius said, turning toward Seth with his broad smile. "For you, it will be the legs. So you don't waste anyone's time running in circles again."

Seth roared in rage, veins bulging out on his neck; the man with the shield stepped one last time on Renwal's arm before heading toward him. A violent storm burst from Seth's core, leaving a single thought inside his mind: tearing all the noble and the three men into pieces.

Silver chains burst out from the street and grasped Seth's leg while Lucius' man arrived beside him. The golden aegis raised in the air once again, yet instead of fear, Seth felt a surge of adrenaline. His muscles tensed, his pupils dilated—his body was ready to receive the blow.

But just as the whistling shield was about to crush his leg, a blue barrier suddenly appeared around Seth, halting the golden aegis with a loud clang. The crushing weight pressing onto his back vanished, and as Seth looked up, he saw the man who had been holding him down now standing next to the other lackeys. All three bore a combat stance, their swords and shields drawn and glinting in the rising sunlight.

"That's enough, Lucius."

Professor Reat walked out from a nearby alley, a resigned look on his face. His loose white shirt, half-tucked in his black pants, contrasted sharply with the magnificent crimson crystal crowning the long, dark wooden staff strapped to his back.

Still driven by an insatiable bloodlust, Seth sprang to his feet and threw a powerful right hook at the man with the golden shield. But the moment his fist was about to connect, an invisible force wrapped around his body, immobilizing him on the spot with his knuckles mere inches away from the man's nose.

"Sorry for my little student," Professor Reat told the shield-wielding man before letting out a sigh. "He tends to get angry when people hurt his friends."

"Oh, cut the act," Lucius retorted. "He's not one of your students. He failed the selections."

"The selection process for Primalists is different, my dear Lucius," the professor replied. "They have a second examination part if they happen to fail the first one." He then trudged over to Seth and leaned against him, struggling to lift his elbow high enough to rest it onto his shoulder. A wide—and clearly fake—smile stretched across the man's face. "And this boy nailed that second part."

"You're lying." Annoyance crept into Lucius's face. "Get out of our way, or I'll throw you in jail."

Professor Reat's expression turned cold, and a murderous intent flickered in his eyes. "If you lay a finger on a student of Trogan Academy, the crown gives me the right to kill you. So go ahead—break his legs. I'll chop your head off and send it to your father as a gift for his brother's ascension to the Gold Tier."

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Lucius' mouth opened but closed almost instantly. He glared at the professor and remained still for several tense seconds before turning to his men. "We're leaving."

As the blond noble strode away, he cast a disdainful smirk at Renwal, who was still writhing in pain, then locked eyes with Seth. "If I were you, I'd not set foot within the academy."

Lucius then continued on his way, his three men trailing behind. The moment they all disappeared around the corner, Professor Reat waved his hand and unfroze Seth. "Seriously, throwing a punch at a Paladin? I should've let you die for being that stupid."

"Why didn't you step in sooner?" Seth shouted in anger, hurrying himself to Renwal's side and fumbling for his potion pouch. "He's going to—"

"Potions will kill him, use this instead," the professor said, tossing a scroll at Seth. "And to answer your question, it's not my job to protect your friends."

Seth gritted his teeth and quickly pushed aether into Identify's grooves.

"I'm just Copper!" Seth exclaimed, seeing the Tier.

"Don't use all the aether inside, and you'll be fine," Professor Reat answered flatly. "Four or five seconds should be enough."

"Why me? Can't you just do it?" Seth snapped, pulling up his sleeves and kneeling beside Renwal, who was still sobbing.

"I don't feel like it." The professor sighed, sitting on a wooden barrel nearby. "So, either grow a pair or watch him die."

With a grunt, Seth crushed the grayish seal of the scroll and began channeling aether inside. Almost instantly, a strange force drained his Well, and as it reached its bottom, a powerful surge of aether burst from the scroll, searing through the flesh of his arm.

"Stop absorbing the aether, you stupid fool! Use it on your friend!"

Hearing the professor, Seth pulled himself together and visualized a bridge between his hand and Renwal's shattered arms. He then focused on the swirling, vivid energy in his palm before pushing it through that connection. As soon as the aether reached the blacksmith, its effect was immediate: blood ceased gushing out, broken bones moved back beneath the skin, and the gaping wounds closed over them. Renwal's pained face then softened, and his eyes closed.

Seth counted to five in his mind then threw the scroll aside, instantly cutting the flow of aether. As the parchment landed on the cobblestone and crumbled into dust, he looked down at the blacksmith's arms—they were still in terrible shape, twisted nastily as if the bones were all missing, but at least the bleeding had stopped.

"The pain relief won't last long," Professor Reat warned. "If I were you, I wouldn't wait to get him in that wagon to get him to a Priest."

Seth shot the man a glare, then carefully hauled Renwal to his feet before heaving him into the back of the wagon. As he lay the smith down between the empty crates, he paid particular attention to the position of his arms. Vandric will never treat him—not without a lot of coins.

"I'll get you home, Renwal," Seth whispered through the tightness in his throat. "And I'll find a way to fix your arms."

Renwal stared blankly at the white cover, his lips trembling too much to even mumble a word.

Seth jumped off the wagon and faced Professor Reat, still sitting on his barrel, then spat, "Why did you lie to save me?"

"I didn't lie, I just… slightly bent the truth," the professor answered, leaning against the wall behind him. "If you'd stayed until the end of the selections like Marine told you, you would've known. No, instead you left and made me search every damn inn of Arthri at five in the morning to find you. Oh, and if I were you, I'd be a little more respectful. Your friend is alive because of me."

Seth took a deep breath and lowered his head. The man was right. "Sorry, sir."

"You'll get yourself killed at the academy if you don't learn to control those emotions of yours," Professor Reat said, grimacing and rubbing his neck. "Anyway! If you'd stayed, you'd know that Primalists get a second chance if they fail the selections, like I said, by completing a different task. Killing twenty arcane beasts in a month and bringing their stones back to the professor who oversaw their selections—in your case, me."

Seth blinked, caught off guard—not just by the idea of a second chance, but by the task itself. Twenty stones? That's it?

Then memories of his first hunt came rushing back—the fight against the Boreal Wolves, and how one of them had nearly torn off his bicep. He would've died back then if not for his core… or Marcus's potion. Now, with Nightmare's Danger Sense, hunting was far safer. But without the pup, every trip into the Wicked Forest to kill an arcane beast would be just as dangerous, and just as daunting as it had been that day. Yeah, twenty is fair.

"Couldn't I just cheat and buy twenty beaststones?"

"You? No." Professor Reat blew aside the few strands of black hair that had fallen in his face. "Someone with money? Sure."

"How's that fair?" Seth blurted out almost instinctively.

The professor shrugged. "Life's full of injustices. If you can't stomach that, you should probably stay in your little town." The man paused and brought his hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Although… I'm not so sure that spending your days helping your friend find a new passion would be much better."

Seth stared at the man, fighting the urge to punch him. Renwal could be crippled for the rest of his days, and this man was making jokes about it.

Professor Reat raised both hands up in surrender. "Don't give me that look. I'm not the one who swung that shield."

"But you didn't stop it either, sir," Seth hissed through clenched teeth. He knew he couldn't afford to get on the professor's wrong side—but the man was really testing his limits. "Will the type or Rank of the beasts affect my academy ranking?"

"No, the only thing that matters is your attribute total when we register you."

"Why does the academy give that second chance to Primalists?"

"It's a way to be fair and see which of you are worth our time, since we'd have to adjust our class courses for your particular... needs."

"Then, where do I meet you next month for the stones?" Seth asked.

If he could get into the academy, he could gain access to information about the Wielders' world for free—and maybe also find an opportunity to make that Faertis bastard pay. The noble's personal guards likely wouldn't be there.

"Oh, you're quite confident," the professor said with a smile. "Meet me at the training field in four weeks. I'll be there all day for the fifth round of selections."

Seth nodded, having already planned to return to Arthuri around then to deliver the Red Foxes' contract. "Okay."

"See you in four weeks... if you don't get killed, " Professor Reat said before jumping off his barrel and walking away with a brief wave.

Seth exhaled loudly, then briefly checked the two horses' harnesses and climbed onto the wooden seat. As he pulled the reins, the wagon jolted forward, and for the first time he noticed a dozen faces or so staring at him from the nearby windows. All those people had seen what happened—and none had even called out for it to stop.

It reminded him of when Mael's father had dragged his wife by the hair through Sunatown's marketplace. No one had said a damn word. They had all just watched, hoping a Wandering Merchant might intervene. Things turned out to be the same all over, whether in Sunatown or Arthuri.

Power meant everything.