The Primal Hunter Chapter 1227 - A Fundamental Evolutionary Difference

Jake woke up with a massive yawn. Still slightly hazy from sleep, he sat upright and stretched out his limbs. The movement didn't actually relieve any tension since he wasn't physically sore, but he simply enjoyed the sensation.

Expanding his sphere, he noticed the residence was deserted, which left him feeling a bit let down. He had harbored a small hope of finding a sleeping Artemis resting next to him. However, he couldn't blame her; she surely had more productive ways to utilize her avatars than watching him sleep throughout his long recovery process.

Regarding that recovery, Jake felt he had returned to his peak state. He tested the flow of his energies and encountered zero resistance. Even though the trauma his soul endured wasn't nearly as severe as the aftermath of breaking Palate, this healing process seemed exceptionally rapid.

Since he was by himself, Jake couldn't resist the urge to test his new Meditate skill immediately. Closing his eyes, he was instantly transported to his Soulspace, where the shift in quality was immediately apparent.

Lifting his hand, Jake realized his authority over his Soulspace had reached a new peak, making it easier to manifest his Path and his internal thoughts. As he reached out to sense the environment, he detected something else.

Usually, the space was defined by the arcane sky and the carpet of vibrant flora he had developed following his sessions with the First Sage. While it looked the same visually, a deeper probe revealed the subtle presence of more than just his arcane affinity permeating the atmosphere.

He heard the soft murmurs of the wind, and the fabric of the space felt more grounded. He possessed a clearer intuition regarding the flow of time, and upon examining the earth beneath him, he found minute traces of earth affinity. These influences were very slight, and he easily traced their origin to the portal situated near the First Sage's tome.

Jake’s time spent interacting with the Gate of Enlightenment had provided him with a very basic grasp of numerous concepts. Since elemental concepts were among the most fundamental, it was logical that many of his new insights were tied to them.

These concepts were now manifesting within his Soulspace in understated ways. Even when combined, they couldn't rival his arcane affinity, but they served as a definitive marker of progress. It also reinforced a theory Jake had entertained for quite some time.

He couldn't imagine these things being unrelated, and his confidence grew the more he explored his Soulspace. This epiphany didn't change much for now, as Jake knew he was still a long way from contemplating the divine. After all, he had only recently grazed the edge of the sacred.

Finishing his inspection, Jake moved toward the portal that led to the Gate of Enlightenment. After a brief pause, he stepped through, feeling his mental state shift entirely. He understood that everything within the Soulspace was merely a representation of Records and that the portal wasn't a physical gateway. Rather, it served as a psychological trigger to enter a state of profound meditation, using his Truesoul to bridge the gap to the Gate of Enlightenment. Despite this knowledge, the sensation of teleportation felt incredibly real.

In the next heartbeat, he stood before the colossal Gate of Enlightenment. However, instead of an endless void or a path made of golden pages, he found himself within a gazebo that mirrored the one in his Soulspace. The only notable change was the absence of the table that usually held the First Sage's book, leaving the structure empty.

Jake also noticed that the gazebo wasn't merely drifting in a vacuum. It sat upon a tiny island constructed from his own stable arcane mana. Looking toward the Gate of Enlightenment, he sensed that the conceptual "leakage" was much more controlled than during his previous visit.

This initially sparked some concern, but as he stepped out of the gazebo toward the Gate, the pressure began to climb. It appeared that proximity to the portal dampened the concepts; moving just a short distance away allowed them to wash over him with full intensity once more.

Jake further observed that in this meditative state, his link to his physical body was completely severed. He couldn't even sense his aura passively, something he could usually do while resting in his Soulspace. However, the moment he focused on his inability to feel his sphere and tried to reach for it, he was suddenly flooded with awareness of the physical world again.

This turned out to be a mistake. The mental strain of trying to perceive the outside world while standing before the Gate of Enlightenment was overwhelming. His connection to the Gate faltered, and a second later, he was ejected back to the portal in his Soulspace.

“Right, can’t do both,” Jake whispered. It was clear that dividing his focus was impossible. The raw data from his Sphere of Perception conflicted with the abstract, nomological nature of understanding concepts, breaking the specific mindset required to interact with the Gate.

He wasn't upset, though. If anything, Jake felt a sense of relief. During his first encounter with the Gate of Enlightenment, he had been totally disconnected from reality—a first for him. He had been completely exposed, and the idea of being unable to sense threats while meditating made him uneasy.

Now he knew that his Bloodline-driven instincts remained functional even when he was deep in meditation. This implied his danger sense was still operational, making these sessions much safer than he had feared.

Not that Jake intended to practice deep meditation in dangerous territory. He now understood why gods preferred to contemplate concepts within their Divine Realms. Perhaps they were required to be there—if his theory that Divine Realms were simply divine-tier Soulspaces held true—but he suspected they simply preferred the absolute security of their own domains.

Satisfied with what he’d learned, Jake thought about heading back through the portal, but he decided against it. While a long session to understand why the wind behaved the way it did was tempting, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Breaking his meditation, Jake decided it was time to confront the Malefic Viper about the latest vision. He had several questions and a fair amount of criticism he wanted to voice.

Jake sent a mental call to the Primordial.

The response was nearly instantaneous. A figure materialized in the bedroom doorway. “Well, that tone sounds rather grim. Let me guess—I did something you find morally objectionable?”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Jake replied, walking past the Viper toward the living area and gesturing for the god to follow. “I assume the name ‘Eye of the Magus’ means something to you?”

“Ah, that. Yes, I recall,” the Viper said, a look of nostalgia crossing his face. “It’s hard to forget, given my Bloodline, but that specific memory definitely stands out.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Jake asked, taking his usual spot on the couch. The Viper sat opposite him.

“What exactly are you looking for, Jake?” the Viper asked, tilting his head. “Do you want me to say I regret it? That I feel bad about tricking a woman into loving me just to use her and then kill her and her father? I won’t say that. Unlike her, I have no intention of lying to you.”

“I hope you realize that saying that makes it harder to trust you now,” Jake said with a skeptical look. He didn't truly believe the Viper was being dishonest, but the sentiment bothered him. “I’m not saying your plan wasn't effective; I’m saying there are lines that shouldn't be crossed.”

“I feel like we’ve been down this road before,” the Viper sighed, shaking his head. “There is a basic gap in how we perceive the world. You believe that all intelligent life has some intrinsic worth just by being alive. I know many people feel that way, and I understand your perspective, but I don't share it. To me, she had no value, nor did her father or anyone else at that auction—save for the few A-grades who were actually dangerous.”

Jake remained quiet as the Viper continued.

“Humans and most sentient races evolved empathy as a survival trait. It’s necessary for building societies, and even social monsters have it. But remember, I am not one of those beings. I was born a snake—a solitary hunter without family or partners. As I climbed my Path, everyone was either a threat or a meal. Eventually, I included those I could trade with for mutual gain, becoming social only because I had to. Honestly, the only person who didn't fit that mold during my mortal years was the First Sage. So, Jake, I get why you’re disgusted; it’s your nature. But for me, I was just being an evolved ambush predator. The trap was just more elaborate than usual.”

“By my standards, that’s just the description of a psychopath who only cares about himself,” Jake countered, staring at the Viper. “I’m not saying your logic is flawed, but that explanation makes it hard to believe you could ever truly care for anyone.”

“That’s a bit harsh… but I won't hold it against you,” the Viper said with a faint, knowing smile. “To be honest, at that stage of my life, the only person I genuinely valued was the First Sage. And even then, I told myself his death would be a loss only because of the knowledge he possessed, not because of the man himself. I viewed emotions as a weakness to be purged. I tried to form connections at times, but they failed, so I adopted a philosophy where everyone was a potential enemy. It took a long time to realize that refusing to care just made life empty.”

“But you still say you have no regrets,” Jake noted.

“And I don't,” the Viper shrugged. “I simply learned that some individuals are worth the effort. I won't lie and say I'd care about the people in your life if they weren't connected to you. I choose to care for them because of you, and because I understand the value of that connection now.”

The Viper sighed again. “We’re just repeating ourselves. Let me be blunt: Yes, I was a massive asshole—worse than I am now—during my mortal climb. No, I don't regret my choices.”

Jake listened, a single question forming in his mind.

“Who was it that finally made you care?”

“I… wouldn't credit a single person. It was more about growing over centuries. I became better at self-reflection—thinking about who I wanted to be. I eventually admitted to myself that I had truly cared for the First Sage and that I had real friends. But if I had to name the person with the most impact, it was my wife. Before her, ‘love’ was just a word in a book; I didn't think I was capable of it. She proved me wrong.”

A somber smile touched the Viper’s lips before he went quiet, signaling that the topic was still painful. Seeing this, Jake felt his concerns were largely addressed. Villy had been a monster back then, and while he wasn't exactly a saint now, he had clearly evolved emotionally. "Changed" was perhaps a better word than "developed."

Jake decided to pivot the conversation.

“You mentioned having genuine friends… at the end of the vision, there was another A-grade helping you. You said he was from the strongest faction in the universe at the time,” Jake said, fishing for details.

“Ah, him,” the Viper said, looking relieved to change the subject. “I figured seeing him would trigger some questions. Go ahead.”

“First off, what race was he?” Jake asked.

“They were the Neurotar, the undisputed powerhouse of that era,” the Viper explained. “You’ve seen sci-fi movies, right? Civilizations that span entire galaxies with technology that looks like magic? That was the Neurotar. At least, before the system arrived.”

Jake’s curiosity was piqued. “Okay, I definitely have a lot of questions about that.”

“And I have plenty of answers,” the Viper replied with a grin. “And some booze. But after we talk, I have some questions for you too. Deal?”

“Deal,” Jake said, leaning in. “So, what happened to them during the integration?”