As the two fish he had caught with the stickleback trap slowly cooked above his hand-made fire pit, Seth repeatedly cast Identify on things around him. Herbs, flowers, trees, rocks—it didn't matter. Whenever the words in the corner of his vision faded out, new ones appeared. The only thing he cared about was keeping his Well at ten percent to maximize his aether regeneration and improve his control.

By the time he finished filling the grooves, his eyes moved to a small scarlet bloom nestled at the base of a tree.

Red Wing Flower

Resource

Tier: -

Grade: Common

Common, again.

It had taken him only a few casts to figure out that was the lowest-possible grade. Everything he had Identified so far had the same properties: Common grade and a dash next to Tier. But that didn't bother him. He wasn't hoping to find anything rare or special right around here.

The moment his meal finished cooking, Seth removed his damp gear and hung it on a branch with the intention of cleaning it in the river the following day before slipping into linen pants and putting on a plain shirt. He then sat by the firepit, took the fish, cut off their heads on the flat rock beside him, and began eating.

The chances of getting revenge on the tax collector or becoming a wealthy adventurer who could enjoy an early, peaceful retirement now seemed… unlikely. He might as well forget about Trogan Academy—who would want a Wielder who couldn't gain a single attribute? He would also have to learn the basics on his own.

As Seth bit off a large chunk of fish, something hit him—his father's third gift. How did I forget about it? Maybe it can help.

He reached into the large bag for his father's gift box and pulled out the book inside. The pages were yellowed, bound together by a rusty spiral, with a thick front and back leather cover. The title was written in a dark crimson red: 'The Encyclopedia of Beasts.'

Seth immediately cast Identify.

The Encyclopedia of Beasts (???)

???

Tier: ???

Grade: ???

"Three question marks?" Seth muttered. "What does that mean?"

With the poor quality of the leather and paper, there was no way it was too rare for the spell to appreciate it. Hand-made items likely just didn't have a grade or Tier. Then, why did all the tools I've Identified show dashes instead of those question marks?

"So many damn questions," Seth sighed, abandoning the fire to lie inside his shelter with the fish and the encyclopedia. "Learning on my own will be a pain in the—"

He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening, and he quickly flipped through the first few pages.

Arcane beasts. A lot of them. All drawn in vivid colors, with stunning details that made them look almost alive. Each of them was followed by two to three paragraphs that recorded their name, strengths, weaknesses, where they could be found, and general information.

Thunderstorm Griffin, Volcano Drake, Apocalypse Fenrir—some of them sounded extremely powerful, like gods among the arcane beasts. A claw of one of those beasts could probably pay for the awakening of all Sunatown's citizens and buy him a house on one of those secluded, paradisiac islands Sericar talked so much about.

Let's see what beasts can be found in the Wicked Forest.

Seth skimmed through the book, stopping only to read and analyze the creatures with that place as a possible location. If he always stayed away from that part of the forest, the odds of encountering one of those creatures in the near future was quite low, but not zero—the damn hare was the living proof of that.

After spending hours engrossed in his reading, Seth carefully put the encyclopedia back into the wooden box before putting out the fire. Everything was all fascinating, but he needed to be well-rested for tomorrow's training. As he settled onto his makeshift bed of leaves and prepared to sleep, one question kept lingering in his mind.

How did my father get his hand on such a book?

His memories of the man were quite blurry, but if he had been an adventurer, Seth's mother or Marcus would have mentioned it. Did he find it somewhere? Someone left it behind? Or maybe he found it on a corpse near the Wicked Forest?

Seth slowly drifted into a sleep while his mind spun with dozens of theories, each one more absurd than the last.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting fading rays through the clouds as Seth lay on the grass. Breathing heavily, he cast a glance at his hand. His Well's aether had reached the end of Identify's grooves in only six seconds—and yet he couldn't bring himself to feel any satisfaction.

Seth

 

Class: Primalist

Rank: 5 (Low-Copper)

Subclass: -

 

Strength: 9

Arcane Power: 3

Toughness: 6

Well Capacity: 5

Agility: 9

Regeneration: 10

Spells:

- Identify [Copper〜Common (Refined)]

Thirteen days of relentless training. Thirteen days of pain and suffering. And he had gained only three damn attributes—one in Strength and two Agility. Not even half of what other Wielders would get on their very first day.

This morning, he had woken up at five, ready to push himself even harder, and here he was twelve hours later—on the ground, soaking wet, nauseous, and with the same attributes as four days ago. Four damn days without improving a single one of them.

Even in terms of spell-crafting, he had barely progressed.

In the end, he had been forced to give up on his arms to keep alive his hope of forming any new grooves. Slashing and thrusting his knife engaged too many muscle groups at once, making it nearly impossible to consistently use the same aether channel. Focusing on running faster and remaining in control had been easier, but the result was still pathetic. The grooves he had managed to carve were barely a tenth as deep as those from Identify. At this pace, creating a new spell would take him half a year. He'd understand if it were something complex like summoning a tornado—but this was just to make him run a bit faster.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

The Wandering Merchants were right, Primalists are the worst, Seth thought, shutting his eyes. Even awakening as a Priest would've been better.

Progressing was supposed to grow harder and harder as someone gained attributes and climbed in Ranks. So how long would it take him to reach the fifty-one attributes needed for Rank 6? Two months? Three months? Yeah, being a Priest would definitely be better.

With a loud sigh, Seth retrieved his old leather bag leaning against a nearby tree and headed back to his camp, checking his traps as usual along the way so he could pick up his meal of the night. After lighting a fire, he skewered the two fish and the hare he had caught and put them above the flames. Once they were perfectly cooked, he took them and grabbed his father's encyclopedia before going into his shelter to eat like he did every night.

Hours slipped by as Seth skimmed through the book, reading about the beasts of the Wicked Forest for what felt like the hundredth time—yet he knew it was pointless. How could he possibly slay one of those things?

This time, however, the moment he flipped the last page, something caught his eye. There was a red shadow in the middle of the end sheet—something was hidden behind it. Seth frowned and used his nail to peel it away, revealing an envelope with a crimson seal flattened against its back. The air seemed blurry and heavy on its surface.

It's enchanted, he realized.

Flipping it over, Seth found a sentence written on the back.

'Put a drop of blood on the seal.'

Seth's eyes narrowed, and he read the words a few more times. A safeguard, maybe?

He pulled out his knife and carefully nicked his finger with the tip. Squeezing the small cut, he drew out a few drops of blood and let them drip onto the seal.

As soon as the first drop hit, the aether surrounding the white envelope vanished, and the seal broke in half. Without hesitation, Seth quickly took out the two things inside: a folded-up piece of parchment and a coin-sized black crystal with a white rune that looked a lot like a key.

With a frown, he cast Identify.

Black Lion Keystone

???

Tier: ???

Grade: ???

Effects:

- ???

A key for what? Seth wondered for a moment before grabbing the parchment on his lap and reading its content.

'Son,

If you're reading this, it means I didn't make it back home, and Marcus has given you my gifts. I thought I could take you and your mother away and keep both of you safe, but I was wrong.

By placing this keystone in the bottom of the box, you'll find my fourth and final gift. It will help you grow stronger over time, but at the cost of putting a target on your back for the rest of your life. Choose carefully if you want to use it or not. If you do, keep its existence a secret. No one must know. Not even your mother. Or else you will also put her in danger.

Don't be afraid of using both the Keystone and my final gift, even if you are Copper. They won't kill you.

Take care of your mother. And tell her I love her more than there are stars in the sky.

May Kreytorus guide your Path,

Your father.'

Seth's heart skipped a beat, and he snatched the wooden box out his bag so he could yank the lid open. As soon as he placed the Keystone at the bottom, four shimmering chains of golden aether appeared around the black crystal, each connecting to a corner.

Before he could even blink, all four of them broke the center where they crossed and vanished—along with the Keystone and the wooden board at the bottom of the box—revealing a hidden compartment. A small azure crystal rested inside, gleaming with a powerful luster under the campfire's light; a thin layer of aether hovered on its surface, creating a mesmerizing aura.

Seth stared at it for several long seconds before noticing a sealed letter tucked beneath. Carefully, he reached into the box and retrieved it. The word 'Instructions' was written in elegant calligraphy above the seal.

Seth glanced back at the sparkling crystal and used Identify.

Link

???

Tier: ???

Grade: ???

Affinity: ???

Restrictions:

- Primalist

Completely baffled, he kept rereading the words hovering in the corner of his vision as his gaze jolted between the piece of parchment and the crystal. What is that thing? How did my old man know I'd awaken as a Primalist? And how is this supposed to help me get stronger?

As Seth went through his father's letter again for clues, his eyes stopped on one particular line.

'Take care of your mother.'

The words were a punch to the gut, reminding him of his failure as a son. His mother had done everything for him, and he, on the other hand, hadn't been able to pay for her cure.

Seth looked at the shimmering crystal in his hand. If she were still alive, he would have used it without any hesitation so he could earn the damn twenty iron coins Vandric had been asking for to heal her.

But now… things were different.

Sure, maybe in a few years he could kick the tax collector's ass thanks to the orb—assuming it really made him stronger—but at what cost? He had to be rational. Was putting a target on his back and living in constant fear of getting caught by who knows what worth a few moments of satisfaction from putting that man in his place? Probably not.

But on the other hand, if he used it to get into Trogan Academy, and collect just enough coins to afford a house away from everything would he truly be putting himself in danger?

"Damn it," Seth muttered, rubbing his face and looking around. "Things can't get worse anyway."

Sucking in a deep breath, he grabbed the instruction letter and broke the seal with his thumbs. As he unfolded the piece of parchment inside, his golden eyes carefully went over the three short paragraphs it contained.

The first one explained how to form a bond with a partner by using something called a core. The second detailed how that new connection would grant him bonus attributes proportional to his partner's and create a bridge between their Well, allowing them to share aether. And finally, the last one gave rather disturbing instructions on how to create that core.

'Infuse aether into Kreytorus' Legacy and endure the pain of his Trial as your core is created. Fail to remain conscious during the process and you will enter the eternal sleep awaiting all mortals.'

Seth frowned, rereading that final paragraph twice. Who's Kreytorus? Some kind of god my father worships in secret?

It would explain the strange ending of his letter. But then why hadn't Seth's mother ever mentioned him? She had enjoyed talking so much about gods and goddesses, taking every opportunity to teach him their names and stories. So why would she leave out the one his father supposedly followed?

And what the hell was a Legacy?

In other words, that thing could kill him, but in return, it would let him bond with someone and get some of their attributes. Would that mean he'd have more attributes than other Wielders of the same Rank? If that was the case, a spell that provided such a tremendous advantage would definitely not be free.

Seth put the letter aside and lay back, rolling the orb—which he assumed was that Kreytorus' Legacy—in his hand. Intense suffering and the possibility of dying. That's a fair price for changing my fate, I guess.

Closing his eyes, Seth channeled aether into the gleaming sphere. Unlike his previous attempts with his hunting knife, this time, there was no resistance and aether flowed out his body at an alarming rate. He tried to stop, but the orb kept pulling the energy out, draining his Well completely in less than a second.

A searing pain then shot through his hand, as if he was holding a flame, and rapidly rushed up his arm, stopping inside his heart. With each beat, the burning pain then spread through his blood vessels, scorching them and taking over his entire body in a flash.

Eyes still shut tight, Seth clenched his jaw and tried focusing on something else—anything to pull his mind away from this agony. In a futile attempt, he tried visualizing a quiet house surrounded by trees and nature on a vast island, but his mother's face appeared instead. She looked exactly as she had on her deathbed—hollow cheeks, wisps of white hairs, her illness having taken away all life from her once radiant smile. Tears welled up in Seth's closed eyes as he clung to the memory, using it to escape the physical world and leave all that pain behind.

But it was all in vain.

Thousands of invisible boiling-hot knives brought Seth back to reality, piercing every inch of his skin and tearing through his body. He tried to scream, but no sound came out—instead, his throat ignited and an intense burning scoured the inside, as if he had swallowed a live coal.

The unbearable pain ripped through him, clawing into his flesh without any mercy. Each breath seemed to peel the lining of his lungs and fill them with scorching sand. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that his mind began to shut down, his thoughts fading into a void of nothingness—

No!

Something erupted within Seth's chest and seized his heart. He couldn't pass out.

As the storm of pain tried pulling him apart, his hands clenched into fists by themselves, nails digging into his palms, warm blood oozing out and trickling down. A deep, powerful survival instinct took over, fighting back with everything it had, anchoring him to this world. Dying wasn't an option. He would survive, no matter what. Even if death himself came to reap him, his body wouldn't let him yield. His Path wouldn't end here. It couldn't end here.

Suddenly, all the pain moved to a single point in his chest, pierced through him, and locked his ribcage in place. His breathing turned into shallow, suffocating gasps as he tried to bring air in and hovered on the edge of consciousness.

Then, it stopped.

The burning, the pain—it all disappeared as if everything had been nothing more than a nightmare.

Lying soaking wet in his makeshift bed of leaves, Seth was struggling to stay awake when he felt it: something new, deep inside his chest, nestled between his heart and his Well. It was a tiny orb, filled to the brim with an energy too vivid, too pure, and far too fierce to be aether. It was something else, something mysterious, roaring inside him like a ravening beast with an insatiable hunger, urging him to hunt, fight, and grow—urging him to do anything he could to survive.

Filling Identify's grooves, he glanced at his hand.

Seth

 

Class: Primalist

Rank: 5 (Low-Copper)

Subclass: -

 

Core: Feral Instinct

 

Strength: 9

Arcane Power: 3

Toughness: 6

Well Capacity: 5

Agility: 9

Regeneration: 10

Spells:

- Link [???〜??? (???)]

- Identify [Copper〜Common (Refined)]

Before he could process what he saw, Seth passed out.

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