Seth threaded his way through Trogan's bustling central market, a large leather bag he had just retrieved from his room slung over his back. Even though it was late in the evening, the place was as lively as ever.

'You should stop using that pocket watch,' Nightmare said from within the necklace. 'Two or three other ambushes and you'll be able to buy one of those belts you've been drooling over.'

'I doubt he'll send any Coppers again,' Seth answered. He'd expected the noble to lie about the pouch containing only the eighty copper, but he never would've guessed he'd find seven iron coins inside. Seven freaking iron coins.

And that was on top of everything else.

He'd gone through the Guardian's belongings after the fight, too, but the young noble hadn't carried a coin pouch. Still, Seth hadn't left empty-handed. He'd grabbed the man's heavy shield and sword, leaving him only his scarlet uniform since it would be unsellable anyway, then hauled the gear out of sight, stashing it in some bushes just beyond the city's outskirts.

Marching through the gates with those slung over his shoulder would've screamed "thief" to every guard. He'd come back for those tomorrow with a bag.

Once that was sold, he'd probably have enough for an Iron-Tier spell. Seth hadn't bothered buying a Copper Primalist spell yet at the outpost—seemed like a waste with the Iron Tier now so close. Better to save up and put the money into something better when the time came.

'Imagine how many of those an Iron Wielder would have in his pouch!' Nightmare argued. 'You could buy all the spells and gear you want!'

'Yeah, yeah,' Seth muttered, eyeing the massive adventurers' outpost ahead. 'Let's try our luck with Iron beasts first.'

'You're such a joy killer—' the direwolf stopped abruptly, and excitement surged into his voice. 'Wait, we're finally going to start hunting Iron beasts?!'

'Yes, we'll give Rift Diving a shot during the break next week,' Seth answered, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He still found the academy's schedule strange—the autumn semester was finally over, yet they still had a full week of classes before the winter break officially began. While the professors claimed it was to 'spark curiosity,' the students knew it was just an excuse to bury them in homework. 'I'll buy an Escape Scroll.'

'Finally!' the direwolf replied, practically cheering as he hopped inside the teardrop's domain. 'What made you change your mind?'

Seth let out a sharp breath, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Them knowing about the pocket watch now. And about you. We need you to hit Iron fast, before they try ambushing us again with more people. And Irons. Things will get extremely complicated… and dangerous from now on.'

'It wouldn't even be a problem if we'd just killed them,' Nightmare answered flatly.

Seth pushed the outpost's door open. 'You think I don't know that?' he muttered, frustrated at his own lack of guts. 'I just… couldn't do it.'

A strong scent of ale and delectable food struck Seth the moment he entered the building; the place was full as always, the tables filled to the brim with people chatting and eating under the soft light of the lamps hanging from the wooden pillars. Behind the counter and perched on her usual high stool, Celine caught sight of him, and a large grin appeared on her face.

Over the past three months, Seth's relationship with the woman had grown into something truly valuable—she had become a trusted source of advice for his contracts, offering him hunting tips and insights about market values, on top of consistently giving top-notch prices for his beaststones. At first, Seth had considered waiting for Sericar to sell the stones, but since their value diminished after thirty days, he had decided otherwise.

"How was the hunt?" Celine asked with her warm smile.

"Not bad—aside from getting ambushed by two students," Seth said, leaning on the desk. "And no, I didn't kill them."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Do you know why they attacked you?"

"Yeah," Seth answered. "Traded my last potion to one of them for a few answers… and some coins. Turns out they were sent by Lucius, the Faertis I told you about."

"Some coins, really?" Celine frowned. "Got their names? The Faertis' youngest is untouchable, but maybe I could do something about those two?"

"Umm, a Guardian, William Sert and an Elementalist, Roland…" Seth scratched his head, trying to remember the guy's name from their class together. "...something. Can't remember his last name."

Celine's eyes widened. "You fought a Guardian and an Elementalist at the same time?"

"Yeah," Seth answered, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn't told anyone about Nightmare yet—not apart from Professor Reat—so he was still claiming all the credit. But that was about to change now that the Elementalist had seen the direwolf.

Seth forced a casual shrug. "They were pretty weak."

"Clearly," Celine chuckled. "If that Guardian had used Provoke, you'd have been roasted alive by some Fireballs."

Seth hefted his heavy bag onto the counter and pulled out a linen bag filled with beaststones, along with a folded piece of parchment. That was exactly what happened. But it was better to keep the discussion brief—to make sure not to slip up and expose his lies.

"I managed to get sixty this time," he said, handing Celine the bag and the contract.

"In a month? With all the academy's end-of-semester exams?" The woman ran a hand through her shoulder-length silver hair and sighed before peering at the stones inside. "At this rate, you're going to make every adventurer here feel like an amateur in a year or two… or we'll find out you've failed all your exams"

"Hey, I already got my results and I passed everything," Seth answered with feigned offense as he took his Vita out and placed it into the silver bowl atop the altar on the counter. "It was close for that stupid history class, but I still passed! And I wouldn't bet on that. Richard told me breakthroughs are much harder for Primalists."

A few weeks ago, at Celine's request, he had met the outpost's strongest Primalist, Richard, a fifty-year-old Peak-Iron Wielder. The man hadn't been quite as useful as the outpost's administrator, but their brief conversation had still taught Seth a few things—one of which was that Primalist struggled more than others at the cap of each Tier.

"You'll manage," Celine replied with certainty, handing him forty-four copper coins for the stones. The woman then touched the dark base of the Vita Altar, causing the runes to shift from a faint yellow to a bright, clean white.

The light wasn't as blinding as the one emitted back at Arthuri's outpost. At first Seth had assumed it was due to the altar itself, but Celine had explained that it was actually because of her superior aether manipulation. By using less aether than Warsis to fill the runes, she minimized the amount that was wasted, resulting in a softer, less-intense light.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

As the runes faded back to their initial golden hue, Seth grabbed the purple crystal and channeled aether inside.

Adventurer Vita ( Copper 5 ☆☆☆☆☆) Name: Seth Adventurer specialty: Beast-Hunting Class: Primalist Beast slain: Rank-20 Undead Rhinoceros Subclass: - Number of contracts: 5 Rank: 17 (High-Copper) Contract difficulty: Copper 5

"Do I need to kill Iron beasts to get promoted to Iron 1?" Seth asked, looking up from his Vita. His Adventurer Tier had already increased to Copper 5 with the Plane Jaguar's contract, so he'd somehow hoped that this one would have pushed him to Iron 1—with the Elementalist's coins, he could've snagged something decent from the outpost's Iron shop.

Celine shook her head. "No. Two or three more Copper 5 contracts and you'll be there."

"Oh, that's great." Seth slipped the Vita back into his bag, already knowing he wouldn't bother with any more Copper contracts—the next thing he planned to do was hunt Iron beasts in a Rift next weekend. But he couldn't let Celine find out; she'd definitely try to stop him. "I'll head upstairs to look for my next contract."

"Not so fast," Celine said, grabbing his sleeve before he could walk away. "Head to room thirteen on the third floor first," she added with a wink. "Someone's waiting for you."

Seth blinked, caught off guard. "Got it. Thanks, ma'am."

"Hey!" Celine glared at him, an annoyed look on her face. "You know how I feel about ma'am."

"Oops, sorry—Celine," Seth said with a grin before turning and heading toward the wooden staircase. On his way up, his thoughts churned. Who's waiting for me? Sericar? That's most likely. But how would he even know I'd be here? Maybe Celine told him I always stop by on Sunday evenings?

After reaching the third floor, Seth passed a table of adventurers and entered a narrow corridor lined with numbered doors. Laughter and chatter spilled out from the first two rooms, but the rest were eerily silent. Stopping in front of the door marked '13,' he hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside.

The room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of a silver lantern in the corner. As Seth's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he spotted Sericar sitting in an armchair by the window, mug in his hand, staring at the two moons barely in the indigo sky.

"Hey, Sericar," Seth said, waving at the bearded man.

"Hey, kid," the Wandering Merchant replied, standing up to shake hands before gesturing for him to sit. "How's life at the academy?"

"Not bad," Seth answered, taking a seat across the table. "I'm learning a lot. A few nobles are giving me troubles, but nothing I can't handle."

Sericar frowned, then sipped at his mug. "Let me guess—the Faertis again?"

"Yeah, him," Seth answered with a sigh. "But since the last time we spoke, there's also Marine Vancaws. The granddaughter of Kastal's marshal."

"For the gods' sack, Seth," Sericar exclaimed, putting down his mug. "How the hell did you manage to piss off someone like her in just three months?"

Seth threw his hands up. "I didn't do anything. One of my professors made a bet with her about my standing in the academy's Spring Tournament, and now she wants me to lose on purpose."

"Then lose on purpose?"

"I can't, I'd get expelled," Seth muttered. "And it's way too late anyway. She wanted an answer three months ago, I've been dodging her since then. She probably knows by now that I'm not gonna throw a fight for a da... well, for her."

His mouth then twisted to the side for a moment. "Plus, it'd piss off that professor. He's actually counting on me for Kastal's Rising Stars Tournament."

Sericar's eyes widened, and his face immediately shifted. "Kastal's Rising Stars Tournament? That's the one in Oskon, right? You can't go there—it's too dangerous. Tell him something came up. Say you have to look after Clarissa or something. He clearly doesn't know she… passed away."

"Clarissa?" Seth's brow furrowed. How did Sericar know his mother's name? The man had never met her… and Seth had never told him. Maybe someone in Sunatown had mentioned it… but why would he even remember that? "How do you know her name?"

The merchant hesitated for a split second, then forced a smile. "Marcus told me."

"Marcus? Not in a thousand years," Seth retorted, feeling his eyes narrowed. "What are you hiding?"

Sericar let out a heavy sigh and pulled his face down with both hands. "I'm… not supposed to be the one telling you everything."

Before Seth could press further, the merchant reached into his Endless Pouch and pulled out a small red crystal. He placed it on the table between them, and almost immediately, a shimmering layer of aether materialized around them, encasing them in a translucent dome.

"What's this?" Seth asked, examining the barrier; the outpost's ambient noises had faded into a muffled silence.

"An Isolating Crystal," Sericar answered. "It blocks sound from going in or out. Some Scholars and Artificers use them to concentrate, but most people just use them for private conversations in public spaces."

'They could be used for assassinations too,' Nightmare said from within Seth's necklace. 'The victim can't scream for help.'

'I'm not buying something like that,' Seth answered drily, shifting his focus back to Sericar. Such precautions meant that the merchant was about to reveal something serious. "That's… quite useful."

"And expensive," Sericar added, weariness digging into his face. Seth could tell the man was definitely not thrilled about the conversation they were about to have. "Every single thing I say here stays between us. Understood?"

Seth nodded. "Yes."

With another heavy sigh, the merchant glanced at the moons through the window. "I met your parents about fifteen years ago. So, I don't know everything," he began, his bearded face turning back toward Seth. "They came from two different countries on the west continent, far from here."

Seth leaned in, his heart pounding as Sericar continued.

"They met during a time of war. Their nations were locked in a brutal conflict, and peace was nothing more than a distant dream." The merchant paused, and a faint, bittersweet smile broke through his wiry beard. "Your mother told me they initially tried to kill each other—more than once, actually. But somewhere in the middle of all that blood and chaos… they found each other."

Seth's brow furrowed as his lips moved inwardly. It was hard to visualize his delicate mother hurting anyone, let alone trying to kill someone like his father. "What… what was my mother's class?"

"A Barbarian," Sericar answered

"A Barbarian?" Seth exclaimed, his jaw dropping. If there was one subclass that didn't fit his mother, it was that one. Barbarians were Warriors specialized in brute force through absurdly high Strength and Toughness. They basically put aside every spell that required aether elements, incantations, or any complex grooves. "You've got to be kidding!"

The merchant let out a chuckle. "I had the same reaction at first. But she explained afterward that her parents had trained her to become a Warrior from a young age, and since they couldn't afford spells or many weapons to help her become a Spellblade or Weaponmaster, Barbarian was one of her only few options."

Seth shook his head, finding it hard to believe the merchant. "How did my father know I'd awake as a Primalist and not as a Warrior like her, then?"

"Because of his blood." Sericar glanced at the door, as if making sure the two of them were still alone. "Every Wielder from your father's nation has the same class. "

"Primalist," Seth guessed. "So, even if I hadn't hunted so much, I still would've become a Primalist?"

"Yes," Sericar answered. "Your father didn't talk about his past or his country as much as your mother, but from what he told me—and what I've heard from others—that place isn't filled with ordinary Primalists. They're all incredibly strong. Especially their main elite squad. The Apex Predators. Other merchants from the west continent told me that each member of that squad could take four, five, sometimes even six Wielders of the same Tier."

Seth frowned. "How so? Because of high-grade spells?"

"Yes… and no," Sericar said, his mouth twisting slightly to the side. "It's a combination of that and their outstanding aether manipulation, exceptional affinities, unrivaled fighting skills, and… powerful contracted beasts."

Seth gulped at the last words, then nodded, a thought struck him, making his hands clench into fists and his face harden. "That squad… were they the ones who killed my father?"

"I'm not sure," Sericar answered, his voice turning heavy. "But it'd make sense. No one outside of them would've stood a chance against him… considering he was one of its five captains before becoming a deserter."

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