AoP | B2 | Chapter 63: Traitor (Patreon)

Seth stared at the flames hovering above his shoulder. A part of the spell hadn't burned him—rather, it couldn't burn him. It was being held at bay, unable to penetrate an imperceptible field that actively deconstructed the very particles of heat. 

Just like the tree with the lava, he realized. And just like me in the pool. 

Closing his eyes, Seth focused on those lingering flames and pulled at them with his mind to break them apart and absorb them.

The energy flowed with ease, following the grooves freshly carved into his flesh by the Petrified Tree's Sap. The fire seemed to unravel, its affinity was stripped away, and its form deconstructed into thin particles before rushing into his body. 

Null isn't the absence of aether, he realized. It's a vacuum. 

It was the foundation of the energy, one that instinctively wanted to absorb everything around it to rebuild itself. The flames, which had just begun to singe his leather armor, flickered, sputtered, and vanished.

Then, Seth reached outward.

Every trace of ambient aether within six feet of him shivered before being dragged toward him and devoured by the ravenous grooves. A cold rush flooded into his Well, the reservoir swelling sharply until it pulsed with a painful throb. Seth hissed and instantly severed the flow. Too much, too fast.

When he glanced up, he saw both Nightmare and Colossus watching him, their heads tilted in shared curiosity. His Well still ached from the excess aether, so Seth sent a steady stream of energy through Link toward his companions to relieve the pressure. Once the pain eased, he attempted to trigger the pull again—only to run into two immediate problems. First, there was almost no ambient aether left around him to draw on. Second, the fresh grooves that had guided the flow now pulsed with a dull pain. 

Then he realized the truth. It's a spell.

His heart racing, Seth looked down at his hand to cast Intermediate Identify.

     Seth

     Class: Primalist                       Rank: 46 (Mid-Iron)

     Subclass: Beastmaster              

     Core: Feral Instinct    [...]

     Strength: 127 (108+19)          Arcane Power: 120 (97+18+5)

     Toughness: 119 (96+20+3)      Well Capacity: 87 (72+15)

     Agility: 126 (110+16)            Regeneration: 111 (75+13+23)

     Spells:

      - Link [???〜??? (???)]

      - Share [???〜??? (???)]

       - ??? [???〜 ??? (???)]

      - Dusk Scythes [Iron|Silver〜Epic+ (Crude)]

      - Armored Phantom Fists [Iron〜Legendary+ (Decent)]

      - Beastmaster Rage [Iron〜Epic+ (Refined)]

      - Night Veil [Iron〜Epic (Standard)]

      - Huntbound Rush [Iron〜Uncommon (Flawless)]

                                    [...]

Seth stared at the row of question marks between Share and Shadow Blade.

Stronger than an Epic+ Silver spell… yet the Tier and grade were hidden. He weighed the possibilities. Was Identify failing because it was too odd to categorize? Or was it unique—something so potent it defied the standard ranking system?

No, Seth decided. It's likely neither.

Marcus had said in Asethka that unique spells were given names regardless. So it was far more probable that the spell was simply in an in-between state, just like Nightmare's Shadow Bite had been before evolving into Gloom Fangs.

But there was one glaring difference. Unlike the direwolf's spell, which had remained at the bottom of the list during its transition, this one sat near the top of Seth's.

If the final ability truly allowed him to drain ambient aether, he might have finally fixed his chronic issue with aether-hungry spells. He wouldn't have to constantly ration for Phantom Punch, Dusk Scythes, Beastmaster Rage, and Night Veil anymore.

Actually, that depends, he thought, curbing his sudden enthusiasm. It all comes down to the absorption rate. How much can I actually pull with a single cast?

Even Seth's lips pressed into a tight smile. Whatever it was, for once, he felt worthy of his father's name. Worthy of being the son of a Primalist spoken of with fear and reverence.

'Are you finally done admiring yourself?' Nightmare's dry voice cut through his reverie. 'Or did you forget we're in a hurry?'

'Hey! Let him enjoy it!' Colossus chimed in. 'He worked hard for that!'

"No, Nightmare's right," Seth answered, his voice rough. "Let's get going."

'But I wanted to see your Seed too!' Colossus complained.

"You can't run and look at the same time?" Seth retorted, a faint smile touching his lips. "You seemed to do it just fine a few minutes ago."

'Oh. Right. I did!'

As the trio resumed their sprint toward the edge of the distortion field, Seth pulled up his list of aether attunements and Seeds. 

      Sensing: High-Iron                   Talents: [restricted]

      Manipulation: Peak-Iron         Seeds: [restricted]

     Affinity:  - Null ~ Low-Iron                        - Nightmare (Tenebrous Direwolf) 

                     - Darkness ~ Peak-Iron             - Colossus (Three-Tailed Giant Scorpion)

                     - Earth ~ High-Iron                  - Petrified Tree Sap [Iron~???]

Seth's attention skipped over the Seeds and locked onto his affinities—specifically the Null one. Where the label 'Absolute' had once stood alone, there was now a Tier: Low-Iron.

The sap hadn't just granted him a spell and a Seed; it had fully awakened his affinity, giving it a Tier and a tangible Path to progress. With a racing heart, Seth focused on both Colossus's name and the Petrified Tree Sap to show the bonus of both Seeds.

           Colossus (Three-Tailed Giant Scorpion)

           - Increases the potency of all Earth-affinity spells by 2% Toughness.

           - Boosts Toughness by 3%.

           - Grants 15% resistance to immobilizing, stunning, or slowing effects.

           Petrified Tree Sap [Iron~???]

           - Reduces damage from elemental-affinity spells by 25%.

           - Increases the potency of all Null-affinity spells by 20%.

           - Boosts Regeneration by 30%.

The effect listed under the Null Seed made Seth's eyes widen: a passive reduction of all damage from elemental spells, on top of a giant boost in Regeneration. This was beyond anything he could have imagined—especially the damage-reduction part. This single, passive effect would have a major impact on his survivability during almost every fight.

Seth's gaze shifted to the bonus under Colossus's Seed. 3%... it's better than nothing.

With this new Null Seed, the bonus attributes from Link, and the scorpion's defensive spells, Seth would basically have the same durability as a High-Iron Guardian. Yet his offense, with Armored Phantom Fists and Shadow Blade, could outshine any Peak-Iron Rogue or Elementalist. He was becoming what a Primalist was supposed to be—a jack-of-all-trades—but instead of only being fine at everything, he was on the Path to being the best at all of it.

His fight against Kaelen had proven the value of charging headfirst into danger and taking risks. He was still behind those called geniuses outside Kastal. Maybe one day he could afford to be cautious, to only take fights he knew he would win… but such a day hadn't yet come.

*****

For hours, they ran. The tunnels became a blur of dark stone and glowing fungi, their footsteps the only sound besides their own ragged breathing. They tore through any Elemental that blocked their route while trying to waste as little time as possible. Yet with every passing hour, Seth felt the fear in his chest intensify.

Deserter. That was what he'd become if he failed to get out of the Rift before its portal closed. Seth glanced at Nightmare and Colossus, both running alongside him. The large scorpion was in the worst state of the three of them. Even though the beast didn't want to complain, Seth could feel the Colossus' large lungs burning and his legs threatening to give up. 

Guilt gnawed at Seth. He was on the verge of calling a halt so they could let the exhausted scorpion catch his breath, when the air around them shifted. The constant prickling on their skin vanished in an instant—they were clear of the distortion field.

Without wasting even a second, Seth instantly recalled Colossus and Nightmare into the teardrop necklace, then plunged a hand into his Endless Pouch. He grabbed an Escape scroll, yanked it out, and poured aether inside.

The piece of parchment flared.

A surge of vertigo and nausea twisted Seth's gut as his surroundings darkened and dissolved around him.  For a fleeting moment, he hung between realms—between the Cave of the Elements and the ordinary world—just as he had every time the scroll had torn him out of a Rift.

But this time, something was different.

He felt the echo of the Null affinity: a profound lack of aether that resonated with his newly awakened affinity. Yet before he could grasp the sensation, it ruptured, and stone solidified beneath his feet. He was back in the small cavern surrounded by large roots he'd stood within a month ago.

What was that? 

The question flashed through Seth's mind, but he shoved it aside. He'd have more chances to make sense of it the next time he'd use an Escape scroll.

Taking a deep breath, Seth emptied out his jacket and dumped the mound of beaststones inside the numerous pockets into his Endless Pouch. The sudden weight loss made his shoulders sag with relief. Yet some heaviness in his chest remained. An odd tightness. It took him a moment to name it.

Apprehension.

'We should have just let you sleep in that pool instead of waking you up,' Nightmare grumbled through Link. 'I'm pretty sure that's what you really wanted. Stay in that Rift and keep fighting.'

"Yeah," Seth finally answered aloud after a few seconds. "But it would've been selfish of us to do that. Imagine if we came back a month later and found out that Henry, Selena, and the rest of the squad had been slaughtered because we weren't there. Would all the power we gained be worth it?"

Nightmare hesitated to respond, then stayed quiet. Seth let out a sigh. For all his bluster about not caring for humans, the direwolf had a soft spot for those who praised him—like Henry, Elena, and Devus.

Seth walked out of the small entrance cavern and spotted Professor Reat, who was leaning against one of the large trees, arms crossed. The man had the same usual weariness etched onto his face. "Barely made it out on time," the man said. "Another thirty minutes and you'd have been locked in."

"Sorry… I was in a distortion field."

The professor's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of surprise breaking his bored demeanor. It was as if the realization had just hit him—that inside the Silver Rift, there could be Platinum-tier beasts or resources. "We will have to talk about everything you saw in there," the professor finally answered, his voice low. "But first, we have to move."

Reat pushed himself off the rough bark of the pine tree and nodded sharply toward the left. "You're already late for the war. We have barely half a day left to reach the Warfare Rifts."

Seth fell into step beside the man, forcing his tired legs to match the professor's brisk running pace. Their boots crunched rhythmically on the forest floor, disturbing the silence of nature. "Where is it?" Seth asked.

"Northeast of Trogan and northwest of Oskon," Professor Reat answered without breaking stride. "It'll take us at least six hours by carriage."

"Do we really have to go right away? I'd like to eat something first—something other than frozen fish and dried meat."

"That will have to wait until we reach the army's staging point," the professor said, leaving no room for debate. "Everyone else is already there. Technically, you were supposed to report twenty-four hours before the beginning of the war. Director Ryehill has been covering for you, claiming you were on a special assignment, but people will soon begin to ask questions. You made quite an impression during the skirmishes. Your absence won't go unnoticed."

Seth's hand instinctively went to his face. "What about my eyes?" he asked, the old, gnawing worry surfacing instantly. "I hid them with a potion back then. But the King… he'll remember my father. Others might, too."

Professor Reat slowed to a halt before reaching into his pouch. He pulled out two small vials with an emerald liquid inside so thick it looked like ink. Seth recognized them instantly. Marcus' Green-Iris Potions.

"You'll take one before entering the Warfare Rift and the other before you exit," the professor said, placing the vials in Seth's hand. "That's the best we can do. With luck, the Iron-Tier soldiers inside will assume your golden eyes are from a spell and none will make the connection to the Draeria."

Seth pressed his lips into a thin line and tucked the vials into his pouch. As they resumed their run and neared the edge of the forest, his mind drifted back to the conversation with Kaelen inside the Cave of the Elements. Odds are that if he recognized them, others will too. Hopefully by then I'll have made enough of an impact in the war for the King not to execute me on the spot because of my father.

Soon after, Seth and Reat left the forest and stepped onto the main road. Unexpectedly, the professor's hand shot out. Seth tensed and stopped on his tracks as his core sent a cold jolt of warning racing down his spine. He expanded his senses, pushing them forward into the empty space of the road.

He then felt it instantly: eight distinct, unnatural clusters of aether hovering in the air a dozen yards ahead, distorting the natural flow of the wind like stones in a river.

An ambush. 

Whoever Reat had told about where they were must have betrayed them.

The next instant, eight figures shimmered into view when their invisibility spells dropped. Seth's blood ran cold. He recognized two of them. One was the Paladin from House Faertis who had crippled Renwal back in Arthuri. The other… was Sergeant Faertis, Lucius' older brother. 

The bastard who had vanished from the academy right after the incident of the Desert of Misery.