The Primal Hunter

Duskleaf appeared beside the Malefic Viper as he joined him in staring down at the young human within the time chamber.

“Did you ask me to come by simply to confuse me?” Duskleaf asked the Viper while looking down at Jake.

He had a break from assisting his Master as he could handle everything there himself for now. This had allowed Duskleaf to send his clone back to help the little elf girl catch up and make sure she stayed on top of her studies without any of his personal projects being affected. He even had time for this brief excursion to see what Jake was up to, though he, at first sight, didn’t learn much.

Though there was one thing.

“Why has he embedded the weapon in his chest?” Duskleaf asked. He saw that Jake had the weapon he had created firmly stabbed into his own chest, more accurately, into his own heart. At first, Duskleaf thought he was absorbing some of the curse energy from it directly into his body, but he felt no movements of energy.

“Good question,” his Master smiled. “Sadly, I have no bloody idea. What I do know is that what he wants to accomplish is linked to that mythical weapon of his.”

“Further strengthening his connection to a Sin weapon does not seem wise… it may influence his Path and lead him somewhere he did not intend to go,” Duskleaf disapproved.

“It will only become a problem if he allows the curse to influence him too much. Besides, from my understanding, what he is doing is more than merely strengthening the Soulbound connection,” the Malefic Viper explained.

Duskleaf looked a bit at the young man below and sighed. “How long has he been in there anyway?”

“From whose point of view?” the Viper asked.

“His.”

“I would say… about forty years, give or take?”

Duskleaf frowned. Not that long for himself, but a notable amount of time for a D-grade. “Has he-“

“Yep. Every single goddamn second.”

The old alchemist nodded. He stared at Jake and saw how he still remained focused. Not a single disturbance could be detected in his aura. There was only a sensation of serenity and focus from his Master’s Chosen as he worked on his task.

Duskleaf had lived for… a while. He had many students during this time, having not taken the position of Grand Elder of the Academy in the Order just for show. Throughout the years, one learned things.

There had been heaven-sent geniuses. Individuals who had formed several legendary skills in F-grade, alchemists who had crafted as if they were three times their own level, living encyclopedias, and absolute monsters of mana control. Yet none of these had ever made it to godhood. They had made it far, they had gotten powerful and respected, but ultimately they had fallen short despite everyone saying they would no doubt ascend.

A foolish assumption on their part that they would make it. An arrogance born of talent. In some ways, Duskleaf even pitied them because geniuses tended to all run into the same problem down the road. They became impatient.

For a prodigy in magic, forming legendary skills, amazing all your peers, and showing off by killing foes in higher grades were all expected. They would be hailed and respected, but as they got stronger and stronger, things began to change.

Rather than compete with individuals that were D-grade and had trained for a century, they would meet C-grades who had lived for millennia. They would meet B-grades who had lived for tens of thousands of years. Even if this heaven-sent genius was only a few hundred years max, could he truly make up the gap fifty-thousand years of experience and practice had formed? Most couldn’t.

Not to misunderstand, they were still talents. These people would catch up, becoming stronger than the old expert in a fraction of the time, but they rarely did. They got frustrated. They saw magic a mage had spent ten thousand years making and couldn’t comprehend how they hadn’t perfected it themselves in a decade. In a way, their talents became their downfall as they had never learned the act of patience.

what seemed like an insurmountable barrier, and rather than giving up or trying to find a way around, began to slowly and methodologically figure out a

Chosen did not need to struggle. He could cruise relatively easily through these grades but chose not to. In all honesty, then Jake was not

singular focus on a task. He remembered hearing the assessment from the trial dungeon where Jake had gained the

loved every task set before him. As if the more challenging he found a task, the more enjoyable he would find it, and if the difficulty of a task was the mundanity of it, he would simply view overcoming his own boredom and lack of stimulation as just

reminded Duskleaf a

He took months to even figure out how to make the basic potions and even longer to properly learn how to make poisons without constantly hurting himself. Oh, and don’t even get me started on rituals. The only thing he was even faintly talented

shook his head and stroked his beard.

one small step at a time. Usually, we talk about people meeting barriers in their Path, but this guy was running an obstacle course from day one. Yet he kept slowly trodding forward. Shit, he was downright crawling at times. He was just a stubborn fool who loved alchemy far too much to give up, no matter how badly he sucked at it. Though I guess he did become decent at it

Viper looked at

dear dunce of a

two identical men slid back, both also raising a hand and releasing a blast of energy. Simultaneously, they dodged and circled around to clash again. Every

as their eyes flashed yellow. The fight was paused for half a

falling to the ground where they had met. Two other arrows flew as each curved in opposite directions to not clash. Dodging them both was effortless for the two men

fight, it looked more than choreographed dance, and in some ways, that was a

man was hit as they got closer and closer, each blow missed by mere millimeters. Then, they both swung, having their two katars impact each other hard. Both men decided to dive forward to tackle the other. Both failed as the other

to find purchase. Yet, the first to move would also be the one to incite a response, and if everything went as it did the other times, that person would end up the

“Another tie,” Jake spoke.

and ninety-two in a row,” sim-Jake answered. “We don’t need to

had been months since either had even landed a wound on the other. Trading blows had entirely stopped as both knew that committing too far to

was nothing more to learn and nothing more

all there was to learn from the other about combat. Sim-Jake had learned to use the bow merely by observing and

last few… years? There had been no difference between them. Outside of magic, neither could do anything the other couldn’t. Sim-Jake had even learned to use a few important skills of the regular Jake here and there,

had benefitted the most from this. It had not been the initial plan, but Jake had naturally learned all there was to the fighting style. Both of them had kind of hoped to improve it together but found it

They needed actual combat. In fact, even trying to improve the style by only

other for a bit as they both

“It’s time.” “It’s time.”

they could do, nothing more to learn. Sim-Jake’s body already gave off a sensation reminiscent of Eternal Hunger, and the cursed beast no longer

towards the dungeon. I will finish up the final

melancholy. “I

was made, and he was fully integrated with Eternal Hunger, his Records would fully join and become one with Jake’s. Jake felt a bit bad seeing his other self go, even if he knew it was for

failure. Microcracks covered it entirely, and even if it remained sturdy enough and was still useful,

staying a separate entity forever had always been impossible; they had discussed it so many times. His other self had even sped this up by giving away his memories and Records. Sim-Jake had admitted that he couldn’t remember a damn thing anymore from before the system in his simulated reality - nothing aside from what Jake had seen during his vision, anyway. Even the Tutorial was just snippets here and there. His only reason for retaining an ego now was his

must come

bit too strong of a word. It is more that I will change. In some ways, wasn’t this what

“Well-argued,” Jake smiled.

one and try to take

would see that