The Primal Hunter Chapter 1227 - A Fundamental Evolutionary Difference

Jake finally woke up, letting out a heavy yawn. Feeling the lingering fog of sleep, he sat up and stretched his limbs. The movement didn't serve to ease any physical tension—he wasn't actually sore—he simply enjoyed the sensation of a good wake-up stretch.

Expanding his sphere of perception, he realized the house was silent and empty, which left him feeling a bit let down. He had entertained the hope of finding Artemis resting beside him, though he couldn't blame her; she clearly had more productive uses for her avatars than watching him sleep through his long recovery.

Speaking of his condition, Jake felt entirely restored. He tested the flow of his internal energies and found them moving without the slightest friction. While the damage to his soul hadn't been as catastrophic as the aftermath of breaking Palate, this healing process had still been remarkably swift.

Since he was alone, Jake couldn't help but give his new Meditate skill a quick trial run. As soon as he shut his eyes, he was transported into his Soulspace, where the shift in his power was immediately apparent.

Lifting a hand, Jake realized his authority over this inner sanctum had reached a new peak, allowing him to manifest his Path and internal thoughts with greater fluidity. As he reached out to the edges of his Soulspace, he sensed something else shifting.

Usually, the landscape was defined by the arcane sky and the vibrant greenery he had cultivated following his lessons with the First Sage. While the visual scenery remained unchanged, a deeper inspection revealed that his arcane affinity was no longer the sole occupant of the air.

He caught the faint murmurs of wind, and the fabric of the space felt more grounded and stable. Time seemed to have a more tangible rhythm, and a close look at the soil revealed the subtle traces of earth affinity. These were minor influences, easily traced back to the portal standing near the tome gifted by the First Sage.

His time spent interacting with the Gate of Enlightenment had granted him a basic, if shallow, grasp of various fundamental laws. Given that elemental concepts are among the most prevalent, it was natural that his newfound insights would manifest in these forms.

These concepts were now beginning to take root within his Soulspace in quiet ways. Even combined, they were a mere shadow compared to his arcane affinity, yet they represented undeniable progress. It also reinforced a long-held theory Jake had been nursing.

He couldn't shake the feeling that these elements were interconnected, and his growing understanding of his Soulspace only solidified that conviction. Not that this epiphany changed much for now; Jake knew he was still a long way from contemplating the divine. After all, he had only just begun to touch upon the sacred.

Finishing his internal survey, Jake walked toward the portal that led to the Gate of Enlightenment. After a brief pause, he stepped through, feeling his mental state shift instantly. He understood that everything within the Soulspace was a representation of Records—the portal wasn't a physical gateway but a psychological trigger to enter a deeper meditative state, using his Truesoul to link with the Gate. Despite this knowledge, the sensation of being teleported felt entirely real.

A moment later, he stood before the colossal Gate of Enlightenment. Instead of the usual void or the golden path of floating pages, he found himself in a gazebo that mirrored the one in his Soulspace. The only notable difference was the absence of the table and the First Sage’s tome, leaving the structure completely bare.

Jake also noticed that the gazebo wasn't drifting in an endless vacuum. It sat upon a tiny island forged from his own stable arcane mana. Looking toward the Gate, he realized the conceptual "leakage" felt much more restrained than during his previous visit.

This initially sparked some concern, but as he descended the gazebo steps toward the Gate, the familiar pressure began to build. It appeared that proximity to the portal dampened the concepts, but moving just a short distance away would expose him to their full, overwhelming power once more.

Jake also confirmed that in this deep meditative state, his link to his physical body was severed. He couldn't even sense his own aura, a feat he could normally manage while relaxing in his Soulspace. However, the moment he focused on the lack of his sphere, he instinctively tried to reach out—and suddenly, he was aware of the external world again.

It was a mistake. The mental strain of trying to perceive the physical world while standing before the Gate of Enlightenment was immense. His connection to the Gate faltered instantly, and within a heartbeat, he was back in front of the portal in his Soulspace.

“Right, can’t do both,” Jake whispered. Splitting his focus was impossible. The raw data from his Sphere of Perception was incompatible with the metaphysical weight of understanding high-level concepts, breaking the specific state of mind required for the Gate.

Yet, he wasn't frustrated; he was actually relieved. During his first encounter with the Gate, he had been totally disconnected from reality, a level of vulnerability he had never experienced before. To be honest, the idea of being unable to sense a threat while meditating had been deeply unsettling.

But it seemed his Bloodline-driven instincts remained functional even when he was deep in meditation. This suggested his danger sense was still operational, making these sessions much safer than he had feared.

Still, Jake didn't intend to lose himself in deep meditation while 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 advanced Soulspaces held true—but even if they weren't, the safety of such a realm was clearly preferable.

Content with these realizations, Jake considered returning to the Gate for a proper session to learn more about the fundamental nature of the wind, but he held back. There were more pressing matters to attend to first.

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

Jake sent a mental call to the Primordial.

The response was immediate. A figure materialized in the bedroom doorway. “Well, that’s a rather dark tone you’re using. Let me guess: I did something in the past that you find questionable?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” 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 remember,” the Viper said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “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 slightly. “Do you want me to say I regret it? That I feel bad for tricking a woman into loving me just to use her and kill her and her father? I won’t say that. Unlike her, I have no desire to lie to you.”

“You realize that saying that makes it pretty hard to trust anything you say, right?” Jake replied with skepticism. He didn't truly believe the Viper was being dishonest, but the coldness of 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 circled this topic before,” the Viper sighed, shaking his head. “There is a fundamental gap in how we perceive the world. You believe every sapient being has intrinsic value just because they exist. I understand why you feel that way, and many others do too, but I don’t. To me, she had no value. Neither did her father, nor anyone else in that auction house, save for the few A-grades who were genuine threats.”

Jake remained quiet as the Viper continued.

“Most enlightened races evolved with empathy as a survival trait. It’s necessary for building civilizations and is even found in social monsters. But remember, I am not like them. I was born a snake—a solitary hunter with no need for family or partners. On my Path, everyone was either a predator or prey. Eventually, I included those I could trade with for mutual gain, becoming a social creature only because it was practical. In my mortal years, the only person who truly broke that mold was the First Sage. So, Jake, I get why you’re disgusted. It’s your natural reaction. But to me, I was just being an evolved ambush predator. The trap was just a bit more elaborate.”

“In my world, those are the traits of a psychopath who only cares about himself,” Jake countered, meeting the Viper's gaze. “I’m not saying your logic is flawed, but your explanation makes it hard to believe you could ever truly care about anyone.”

“That’s a bit harsh… but I won’t take offense,” the Viper said with a faint smile, looking down. “Truthfully, at that stage of my life, the First Sage was the only one I cared for, and even then, I told myself his death would simply be a waste of a good teacher. I believed emotions were a weakness to be purged. I tried to form connections at times, but they always failed, so I decided everyone was an enemy by default. It wasn't until much later that I realized that refusing to care made for a very hollow existence.”

“And yet, you claim to have no regrets,” Jake noted.

“And I don’t,” the Viper shrugged. “I simply learned that some individuals are worth the effort. I’m not going to lie and say I would care about most of the people in your life if it weren't for you. I choose to show them consideration because of our bond, and because I understand what that care means to you.”

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

Jake sat in silence for a moment before a single question surfaced.

“Who was it that finally made you care?”

“It… wasn't just one person. It was more about personal growth over centuries. I learned to reflect on who I was and what I wanted. I realized I actually did care about 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 definition in a book; I didn't think I was capable of it. She proved me wrong.”

A somber smile touched the Viper’s face before he went quiet, signaling that the topic was still painful. Seeing that vulnerability, Jake felt his concerns ease. Villy had been a monster back then, and while he wasn't exactly a "good" person now, he had clearly evolved emotionally. "Changed" was perhaps the better word.

Deciding it was time to move on, Jake shifted the conversation.

“You mentioned having people you considered friends… near the end of that vision, I saw another A-grade helping you. You said he was from the most powerful faction in the multiverse… or, the universe, back then,” Jake said, stumbling over his words slightly.

“Ah, him,” the Viper said, clearly glad for the pivot. “I figured seeing him would raise some questions. Ask away.”

“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? Advanced civilizations with tech beyond comprehension spanning across galaxies? That was the Neurotar. At least, it was until the System arrived.”

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

“Well, I have plenty of answers,” the Viper replied with a grin. “And I have alcohol. But in exchange, I get to ask you a few things later. Deal?”

“Deal,” Jake said, nodding as he leaned in. “So, what exactly happened to them during the integration?”