The Primal Hunter Chapter 1268 - Season's Passing

The Sword Saint positioned himself in a cross-legged stance, his sword resting neatly over his knees, far from entering meditation—his gaze remained alert and fixed as he observed everything from the modest peak. He observed the lush green canopies stretching toward the distant skyline; the stream cascading along the mountain's flanks as frozen water thawed, with a good portion of it feeding into a nearby pond prior to turning into vapor that created clouds drifting back to the heights, where they descended once again as flakes and droplets.

Creatures populated the peaceful hollows beneath, without any formidable beasts visible in the vicinity. The mightiest specimens present were fresh E-grade evolutions, yet they preferred isolation, retreating into caverns or dozing in secluded spots that no rival beast would approach.

With the flow of moments, the air grew chillier, and foliage faded from vibrant hues, branches dropping their foliage from majestic tops mere months afterward. As the cold season arrived, a blanket of frost enveloped the basin, forcing the majority of beasts to seek shelter while the chill summoned frost and blizzard spirits. These beings clashed with each other and whatever foes they encountered, though they served as targets for certain predators, particularly those at E-grade.

As the frosty period neared its close and warmth returned, every one of these spirits headed for the peaks, seeking spots cool enough to endure and maybe build strength, aspiring eventually to ascend to E-grade on their own.

Fresh buds sprouted on the branches, the waterway resumed its rush, and spring's onset marked the restart of yet another seasonal loop. Miyamoto observed the entire spectacle from his perch on high, his mere presence radiating an intimidation that repelled all lifeforms on this world, a place devoid of even one D-grade entity.

Moments flowed onward with the pattern persisting through summer, autumn, the depths of winter, and the bloom of spring anew. Each year that elapsed wrapped up a complete rotation, and alongside it, the realm expanded ever so slightly.

In this manner, seasons rolled by while the Sword Saint remained utterly still, absorbing the surroundings and witnessing the endless repetition of this natural rhythm.

Within a completely separate realm, a pair of beings closely monitored the C-grade's reflection, one of them tending to the innards of a compact timepiece on his wrist. The second figure resembled a hobgoblin that Jake might have identified, idly lounging about, even as a stack of completed timepieces sat piled nearby.

“He’s just watching time pass, huh?” the hobgoblin, who doubled as a deity, inquired with interest.

Aeon kept his focus downward without glancing up in response. “In part, yes.”

“But not really, right?” the hobgoblin grinned while adjusting his position a touch, causing what appeared as ghostly grains to swirl nearby. “His Transcendent is weird. Related to time and seasons, yet also intrinsically tied to himself.”

Aeon simply gave a nod, employing a tiny tool to fit the small gear precisely into place.

“I can see why it’s hard to figure out how to train someone like that, but throwing him in on a time-dilated planet like that is one way, I guess,” the hobgoblin shrugged offhandedly. “Do you believe it’ll work? We all know how notoriously hard it is to do, yet you expect a C-grade to succeed?”

“I do,” Aeon affirmed, applying the last adjustments to the device. “He’s an old soul. He has the patience, will, and ability to do so.”

“If you say so,” the hobgoblin replied, remaining doubtful. And rightfully so.

He aimed to push the C-grade Sword Saint toward an achievement that even deities lacked assurance in pulling off. Actually, an endeavor that the majority of gods couldn't even attempt, lacking the fundamental prerequisites:

Being a Transcendent.

Though Transcendences and Bloodlines get likened frequently since both count as powers “outside” the system, they differ enormously in nature. A Bloodline acts as a core enhancement to the Truesoul and its bearer, and although achieving Transcendent status also triggers a soul alteration symbolizing this elevation, its reach proves far subtler.

Furthermore, a Bloodline constantly influences its host profoundly. Such lineages mold the traits of those nearby, inseparable from the individual. On the flip side, a Transcendent stands in stark contrast: it emerges directly from the essence of the person.

Yet, the true crux lies in the essence of becoming a Transcendent. Attaining this rank demands the creation of a Transcendent Skill.

Key word: skill.

And skills held the potential for enhancement.

This precisely was the challenge laid down by Aeon Clok, the Primordial of Time, for the Sword Saint prior to his ascent to B-grade. It amounted to an absurd demand on a simple mortal freshly introduced to the system, but the Primordial appeared convinced of his triumph.

The hobgoblin deity doubted his ancient mentor, yet upon observing the mortal over recent years, he started grasping the roots of that conviction. Scarcely any could replicate the C-grade's feat, not even divine beings. Not unless employing an Avatar or some other aid, for the hobgoblin could scarcely fathom the tedium gripping the aged-appearing man.

Typically, prolonged stays in one spot involved contemplation. Such contemplation resembled a light slumber across extended durations, allowing easy detachment from the world and letting hours slip unnoticed.

The man pursued none of that. Quite the reverse defined his approach. Eyes alert, thoughts sharp, he absorbed each instant of each day without pause, fully engaging with the shifting landscape. Pulling off such endurance for years demanded solid mental resilience, and a psyche suited to the task. Certain individuals, regardless of practice, could never manage it, as it clashed with their Path.

The hobgoblin had dropped in briefly for a relaxed hangout, passing idle time, but to the man, it spanned much longer—and since he'd already been stationed there upon the god's arrival, years had likely already ticked by. Pulling off such persistence...

“I can see why you say he has an old soul,” the hobgoblin smiled. “Say, how long has he been sitting there? A decade?”

Aeon merely glanced upward momentarily while securing the crystal face to the timepiece, having verified the hands moved flawlessly.

Noting no acknowledgment of his query, the hobgoblin arched a brow. “Longer? Two decades? Three? Man, I would have been bored to death by now, and if you’d done that to me when I was your Chosen, I would have turned heretic real quick.”

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“No, you would have kept trying as long as you could before acting like you suffered a mental breakdown to escape, and I would have allowed you despite knowing you were faking it,” Aeon said, not even looking up this time.

“Okay, true,” the hobgoblin chuckled, a wave of nostalgia washing over him from those fond memories. “But you didn’t answer. How long has he been sitting there?”

Aeon appeared to pause briefly in thought prior to responding. “Six, closing in on seven.”

“Decades?” the hobgoblin uttered, feeling genuine sympathy mixed with admiration for the man. The average soul would have cracked or risen to wander or merely stretch ages ago, yet his steadfast vigil through endless seasonal shifts was—

“No, and to clarify, he was the one who asked to do this,” Aeon answered, directing his view to the image displaying the C-grade man in reflection. “Centuries. In total, it’s been 689 years and 124... 125 days since he first sat down.”

The hobgoblin took a beat to process, staring at Aeon in shock before shifting his eyes back to the figure simply perched there. “That... if his mind survives something like that... what do you expect to come out on the other side?”

Aeon showed little delay once again as he aligned with the hobgoblin to watch the individual called the Sword Saint.

“My next Chosen.”

Strength indeed twisted even close companions into tormentors, ignoring that their senior lacked B-grade prowess in velocity. Jake strained to match the pace as the avian and void serpent zipped forward, reveling excessively in their bursts and halts while the hapless Jake flailed uselessly to avoid lagging.

Sandy asked tauntingly as the worm teleported next to Jake before flashing again and teleporting ahead.

“Ree!” Sylphie also screeched as she flew by Jake’s side, making sure to always be just a little bit ahead of him. Not by a lot, but by enough to make it sure she could have left him in the dust at any moment if she so desired. Yeah, the two of them were really being bullies, and Jake had no idea why he agreed to do this with them when there was a perfectly good teleportation station in Haven.

Of course, Jake understood the real reason for joining them. Sensing the presences of Sylphie and Sandy offered glimpses into the profound effects of their B-grade transformations, but journeying alongside revealed volumes more.

As innate B-grades, the system viewed them as youths in development until this latest shift. Jake had anticipated it in theory, but witnessing confirmed the vast leap in their might from a single evolution.

This marked the peak of their maturation, a grand achievement for countless across the multiverse. Plus, their diligent efforts during growth propelled them well beyond typical beasts in comparable spots. It separated a lazy powerhouse like Yrelstromoz from a prodigy who'd refined numerous abilities and notched endless accomplishments.

One mustn't overlook the potent titles either. A figure like Yrelstromoz probably lacked notable ones, whereas Sylphie and Sandy surely possessed several, Sylphie with the most, largely thanks to their Nevermore escapade.

Jake eagerly awaited a real showcase of their potentials, though he suspected full comprehension would elude him pre-evolution. Even at maximum output, breaching Sandy's barriers seemed doubtful from current displays.

Sylphie occasionally hurled gust assaults at the serpent, each potent enough to trigger Jake's alert instinct, warning him to evade if aimed his way. Sandy, unfazed, simply absorbed them, even expressing gratitude for the relief from an itch.

Luckily for Jake, their post-B-grade gains remained limited, mostly from acclimating to fresh abilities over grinding levels.

Now fully mature, their advancement would decelerate regardless, though their Paths stayed consistent. Sandy remained an insatiable devourer, consuming all viable energy sources across realms, while Sylphie embodied the hunter, thriving on pursuits and takedowns for progress. Skill refinement aided growth too, but trailed behind the core aspects of their journeys.

Their levels not surging past Jake's eased his tension somewhat, and truthfully, wasn't he holding his own decently against such beasts? Beasts generally outpaced civilized species in development, particularly high-born ones. And no, per his newest notion on his lineage, Jake refused to lump himself with them.

Amid the flight and reflections, an idea hit Jake. “Did anything special happen during either of your evolutions? Something you reckon I would want to know about, perhaps even related to me having a hand in your evolution?”

Sylphie merely cocked her head, apparently puzzled by the inquiry, as Sandy pondered briefly before responding.

Sandy said, making it pretty clear at least the Cosmic Genesis Worm hadn’t experienced anything weird.

“Ree!” Sylphie also very helpfully confirmed there hadn’t been a ghostly Jake cheering during her evolution either.

“That’s good to know,” Jake muttered, as Sandy did have a good point. Even if their evolutions weren’t standard, how would they even know? The answer was that they wouldn’t, not unless the difference was something obvious. If not, the explanation could just as well be that their races were unique, and that was just how their evolutionary process worked.

The three of them kept chatting a bit more as they kept flying, the two of them obviously traveling casually, while Jake had to push himself to try to keep pace with the two damn B-grades. While Jake did complain, at least their speed did mean Jake and company arrived in Labyrinth City pretty damn quickly, though still slow compared to if Jake had just taken the damn teleporter.

Sandy said as they got close enough to see it. Well, in Sandy’s case, use their weird spatial sense to observe it.

“Sure is,” Jake nodded.

“Ree?” Sylphie asked.

Sandy answered.

“Ree?” Sylphie followed up as the two started talking while Jake flew down near the entrance to the dungeon. Landing, he looked around, waiting for a while before a head popped out of a wall nearby.

“Back to give more bad reviews?” Minaga’s projection asked in a sulking voice.

“No, just here to visit the B-grade section of the dungeon for a little while. Just to get my final level,” Jake answered with a smile.

Minaga glared at him. “What do you think I’m making here? The dungeon you and Casper experienced was specifically prepared for your testing, not something publicly available. Do you really think you can just come and go, entering an in-construction high-quality dungeon complex as you please?”

Jake looked at Minaga for a few seconds before the Unique Lifeform spoke again.

“... step on the teleportation platform, you can leave again once you’re done through the magic circle you initially appear on...”

After he said this, a magic circle appeared on a nearby circular platform, glowing with energy.

“Hey, at least you’re getting four and a half stars for customer service,” Jake said with a bright smile.

“Wait, why only four and a half?”

“See you two later, I’m going for my last level!” Jake turned and yelled up to Sylphie and Sandy, who seemed to be discussing a race to the room.

“How do I get that last half a star?”

Jake walked onto the magic circle and quickly accepted entering the dungeon, intent on quickly killing as many Aginians as he could to allow him to evolve as soon as possible.

“Hey! I’m open to suggestions over here, and wou-“

Without further ado, Jake accepted the prompt to enter the dungeon, and in he went to start one final slaughter before it was B-grade evolution time.