Ascension of the Primalist [A Tamer Class, LitRPG]

Seth slowly pushed the creature's corpse off him and stood up, wincing as his fingers brushed the wound on his shoulder—which had not yet stopped gushing. With the battle fever now gone, the throbbing pain was intensifying with each heartbeat.

Pressing firmly onto the bleeding, Seth scanned his surroundings. The flickering runes on the walls cast an eerie light, their shifting glow painting restless shadows across the chamber. Spotting the darkest corner, he made his way there and slumped down, leaning heavily against the cold stone.

From his pouch, he retrieved one of Marcus' Healing Potions, bit the cork loose, and spit it aside before downing the red liquid in a single gulp. A familiar, comforting warmth then spread throughout his body and slowly pooled into his shoulder. A tingling sensation rose seconds later inside his wound, and gradually, blood stopped oozing out from under his hand.

Good thing we haven't used a single one the past weeks, Seth thought.

Releasing the pressure, he glanced at the Ghoul's corpse sprawled in the middle of the room. Weeks ago, Professor Reat had praised him for slaying a beast five Ranks above his own, not knowing about Nightmare's help—now, it was different.

Seth had taken down that hideous thing alone. Sure, he had almost died, but the outcome remained the same.

A broad smile spread across Seth's face. Aside from his first fight with the Boreal Wolves, he had never gained so many attributes in a single battle.

Seven points, he thought, going through all the numbers in the corner of his vision. Even Quick Step's quality had increased to Standard, thanks to his core. High risk, high—

Seth's thoughts paused as he noticed something among Nightmare's bonus attributes: the Strength had increased by one. Which meant the direwolf's Strength had gone from twenty-four to at least twenty-five.

He's alive and fighting, he thought while letting out a deep sigh of relief before frowning as he focused on his Well.

Somehow, it was filling up at twice its usual rate and had already reached the sixty percent mark. Ever since his Well Capacity had caught up with his Regeneration, it normally took over an hour in the Wicked Forest—where the regeneration was higher—and two hours outside of it to be full. Now, it would barely take thirty minutes.

Why is the aether density so high here? Seth wondered, his golden eyes tracing the glowing runes on the walls before settling on the Ghoul's corpse. Let's hope it doesn't attract more of those things.

The pulsing symbols bathed the hall in a dim, rhythmic light which illuminated the scroll Seth had just pulled from his pocket—the evolution-path of Haste. With Nightmare's bonus attributes, he had now reached the required twenty-five Agility, and his one-copper-and-fifty-common-coins investment was finally about to pay off.

Marcus' potion still needed time to knit his wound closed and stop the bleeding; fighting before that happened would be asking for trouble. So, he decided to make the most of the downtime and learn Haste while he waited.

Seth unrolled the parchment and carefully went through the detailed instructions, reading each paragraph at least twice just to be certain. The document outlined and described how to modify the Quick Step, which consisted of thickening the existing grooves to handle more aether and adding new ones in his legs to extend the spell's duration. Just as anticipation and excitement began to swell in his heart, he noticed a small sentence at the bottom:

'Success is not guaranteed. Failed attempts may still reduce the quality of Quick Step.'

Probably should have expected that, Seth thought without much concern. Worst-case scenario, he would simply try again until he succeeded.

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Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and turned his attention to Quick Step's grooves. They were all intricate trails winding through into his lower body, each meticulously etched with a specific purpose. As instructed, he pushed aether into them, making sure it rammed into their walls and forced them to stretch. The maneuver caused a dull ache to slowly ripple through his legs, but it remained bearable.

Aether gushed from his Well like water through a broken barrel and rapidly reached the ten-percent mark. Gritting his teeth, Seth focused on adjusting the flow to perfectly match his Regeneration. Like wagon wheels on a well-worn road, he traced the grooves again and again, each pass deepening and widening them more than the previous one.

The process was grueling, and hours slipped by in a blur as Seth pressed on through the ache, which slowly intensified. In no time, the light pressure grew into a searing pain that would make most people falter—but not him. His muscles jerked and spasmed like worms in the rain while his sweat-soaked hair clung to his forehead, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin. Each breath came out slowly through measured intervals to ease a bit of the constant, suffocating sensation, without ever truly alleviating it.

A smile crept onto Seth's face as he finally completed the first step; the grooves were now thicker and sturdier than ever before. Turning his attention back to the parchment, he began preparing the next task, which required carving new pathways within his legs. The instructions clearly explained how to channel aether beyond the existing grooves and create the new ones with the same repetitive method; however, the drawing meant to guide him was frustratingly vague and barely offered even a rough idea of where to go.

It'll have to do, Seth thought, taking a deep breath.

Closing his eyes, he tried to visualize the intricate patterns within his legs and slowly began infusing aether into the existing grooves, forcing the energy to twist and bend into new curves. Then, suddenly, his core flared to life in his chest and flooded Seth's head with its mysterious energy. A strange, yet profound awareness bloomed inside his mind, filling it with a precise understanding of his body.

His enhanced instinct took over and guided the aether without hesitation, slitting and tracing the grooves effortlessly. Each turn, each new line felt natural, as if it had always been meant to be there. Seth could sense how the new configuration would trap the aether in his legs, how it would make him stronger and faster. Everything was seamless and intuitive. He wasn't thinking; he was becoming.

A beast following its intrinsic Path—one filled with wild and insatiable hunger.

The searing pain dulled to a mere pinch as time slipped away, the cave's deep silence broken only by his steady breaths and the faint crackle of aether slicing through his flesh. Guided by the Feral Instinct, Seth pushed forward, his focus unwavering, until the grooves were finally complete.

The moment his core drifted back into its sleep, a wave of excruciating pain tore through his legs, chest, and stomach. Seth clenched his teeth, his body trembling as he fought to hold back his screams. Yet despite the agony, a grin spread across his face.

The quality… fell to Decent, he thought, caught off guard.

It wasn't the drop itself that was surprising, but the fact that it didn't plummet all the way down to Crude. He had been expecting such things to happen based on the 'Introduction to the Adventurer's Life.' The book stated that modifying grooves and crafting new ones almost always made the quality fall to Crude—at least, for commoners. Nobles, thanks to having access to more detailed and advanced evolution information, typically achieved better results.

This knowledge gap was obviously a part of the Houses' scheme; one of their many tactics to maintain dominance over commoners and make sure none could ever grow strong enough to challenge them.

Will that be the same at the academy? Seth wondered as his gaze moved to the words Feral Instinct above his Strength. It freed me from the Inferno Bear's spell… helped me carve Quick Step against the Boreal wolves… and now, it let me retain some of the grooves' quality while evolving it into Haste.

That core was far more complicated and powerful than he'd thought. It wasn't just enhancing his instincts—it was protecting him, guiding him, and actively pushing him forward on a thriving Path.

With a grunt, Seth shook his head and pushed himself up. Before thinking about all that, he needed to find Nightmare and get out of the cave alive.

The moment he stretched his limbs, all the stiffness and pain quickly faded, except for the lingering ache in his shoulder; the wound inflicted by the Ghoul had completely healed, but some tenderness remained.

Walking over to the hideous beast's corpse, Seth knelt down and drew his dagger to cut open its bony chest. The putrid stench of the rotten flesh made his eyes sting and forced him to swallow down the bile creeping up his throat. Pinching his nose, he dug his hand inside and grasped the teal crystal wedged between the blueish heart and his ribs before snatching it out. As disgusting as it was, leaving behind a Rank-15 stone was out of the question.

"A freaking Ghoul," he muttered to himself, putting the crystal away in his pouch, "like in goddamn bedtime stories."

The first time he had read about beasts with Undead affinity in his father's encyclopedia, he hadn't believed such things existed. And now, he had just faced one of the walking corpses only a few miles from Sunatown. People would panic if they knew.

Seth took a final glance at the Ghoul's body before leaving the hall to search for Nightmare. As he tiptoed through the dark, musty tunnel of the cave, he kept his senses alert and bow ready, an arrow nocked to its string. The walls' runes pulsed around him, providing just enough light to prevent him from stumbling. Every few steps, he paused and listened for any sign of danger, yet all he heard was the faint sound of water droplets hitting the cave's floor.

The teleportation, the Ghoul, the runes, the aether density—there must be something connecting all those things.

After creeping forward for what felt like an eternity, Seth reached another large chamber with five tunnels branching off from it. He inhaled deeply, and his nose immediately caught a faint, familiar scent. That smell… His eyes widened as realization hit. Decay!

Whipping up his bow, Seth stepped back and scanned the room's shadows. His gaze quickly fell on a Ghoul crouched in the corner, its red bulging eyes fixed on the nearest tunnel, poised as if waiting for something to emerge; it was setting an ambush.

Seth's heart raced with a mix of fear and… excitement.

Aether left his Well and rushed through Haste's grooves, following the new tracks and filling his legs. His muscles bulged and tensed, flexing with power they hadn't known only a half an hour prior. This was another great opportunity to gain attributes—and if he could come out unscathed, he would be able to fight again in less than an hour, thanks to the cave's aether density.

Isolated beasts and plenty of aether, Seth thought, a grin splitting his face in half as he aimed at the Ghoul. The perfect training ground for a Primalist.