The Primal Hunter Chapter 1240 - A Negligent Pioneer

Jake gave the Viper a bewildered look for a moment before replying:

“Yes? I’m fairly certain I mentioned it already, but if I didn’t, it was the capstone skill I received at level 320,” Jake explained, puzzled by Villy’s sudden gravity. The skill was undoubtedly powerful, but it seemed strange for a Primordial to be so intensely focused on it.

“So it was,” the snake god murmured, crossing his arms and rhythmically tapping his finger. “Strange. Truly strange.”

“Are you going to explain your curiosity, or is this another secret?” Jake prompted, his own interest piqued.

“Fair enough,” the Viper sighed. “Eversmile and I—spoiler alert, in case you didn’t realize I was watching the performance with my fellow Primordial—were both observing you use it. Even though my observation skills aren't perfect, they completely failed to register what actually occurred when you activated that Event Horizon skill.”

Jake scowled, not at the revelation itself, but at the fact that Villy found it so unusual. “And? The skill description basically says you aren't supposed to see anything. Only I can witness the Event Horizon, and perhaps the target I’m aiming at.”

“That’s fine for mortals, but it doesn’t explain why two Primordials were blocked,” the Viper sighed. “System skills follow System laws, and the most universal law is that power trumps all. Sufficient Perception can pierce the greatest stealth, and enough sensory power can unveil the most hidden skill. I would expect to perceive anything a C-grade does, regardless of their strength or the rarity of their skill. Yet, I couldn't. That’s why I’m asking; the only other class skill you have that I can’t see through is that life-saving Moment skill, and we both know its origins are anything but normal.”

The snake god’s lengthy explanation made Jake grimace as the realization set in. It was indeed bizarre that the Viper couldn't see the mechanics of Event Horizon, despite what the skill description claimed.

“You have a point. That is weird,” Jake muttered, looking at Villy. “But I suspect you already have a theory?”

“I do. I just needed to confirm it was a standard system-offered class skill before sharing it,” the Viper nodded with an air of wisdom before his tone shifted. “Your Event Horizon skill is absolute trash.”

Jake stood there, jaw slightly dropped as the insult registered, but the Viper quickly continued before Jake could lose his temper.

“Or more accurately, the diluted version you currently possess is trash compared to the true form,” Villy said with a sly grin. “I’ve seen this before—where a skill is provided as a heavily weakened iteration of the real thing. It is actually a bit concerning that your 'barebones' Event Horizon is still ranked as mythical rarity.”

“Why is that a concern? Doesn't that just make it awesome?” Jake asked. If Villy was right—and Jake’s own experiences with the skill suggested he was—wasn't it a positive that the skill had such immense room for growth?

“I didn’t say who it was a concern for,” Villy replied flatly. “I’m thinking of every other poor soul trying to keep up with you. Normally, this would be bad for anyone else. Since the skill is already mythical, if it doesn't downgrade when you reach B-grade, upgrading it would be nearly impossible. Usually, an upgrade requires a jump in rarity, and the System demands a massive amount of effort to allow a rarity increase for skills with such defined paths.”

“But that doesn't apply to me because I already possess a sacred rarity skill,” Jake realized, catching the Viper’s drift.

Earning the first skill of a higher rarity is always the most difficult hurdle, requiring immense Records. However, once achieved, the user’s Records reflect that they are capable of wielding such power, making subsequent upgrades much smoother. Essentially, having one skill of that tier lowers the barrier for others, allowing the System to provide that final push more easily.

“Exactly,” the Viper smiled. “Though reaching sacred rarity remains difficult, as it requires a touch of divinity.”

“Makes sense,” Jake nodded, then paused as a thought occurred to him. “Wait, what happens if a mythical skill is improved enough to upgrade without adding divine elements?”

“An excellent question,” the Viper noted, moving on. “Regardless, my point is that Event Horizon surprised both Eversmile and me. It has top-tier potential. If I had to guess, its true form belongs in the realm of divinity.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Jake pointed out.

“Very observant of you,” the Viper nodded again. “You should definitely experiment with the skill and try to grasp its essence. The Gate of Enlightenment will be useful if you know what to look for. Just be careful not to get lost in meditation. You’re still a mortal; it would be embarrassing if you accidentally meditated your entire lifespan away.”

Realizing he wouldn't get an answer about the rarity mechanics, Jake let it go. “You know I’m not that patient. I’d get too restless if I spent that much time meditating without a fight.”

“True,” Villy agreed, falling silent for a moment. “I assume we’re leaving? Unless you want to visit the nearby resort? I’m sure it’ll be back in business once the panic subsides, though I doubt they’ll let you back into the casino.”

“I don’t need the Credits,” Jake shrugged. He hadn't checked his balance in decades and saw no reason to start now. “So yeah, let’s go back. I still need to recover.”

The Viper nodded, wrapping Jake in energy as they prepared to traverse the void. The Primordial had come personally to ensure Jake’s safety against potential ambushes in the void. Jake didn't mind; traveling with Villy was far faster and more efficient than with any other god.

Fortunately, the trip through the void was uneventful, lacking any interference from Void Gods or ancient factions hiding in the darkness of the multiverse.

Returning to the Order, Villy set Jake down on a couch and gave him a nod.

“There. Now, focus on healing,” the Viper instructed. “I assume you want to go hunting and get your class level caught up with your profession soon?”

“That’s the plan,” Jake confirmed. “I don’t have much left to do before I evolve to B-grade.”

“You have a few things,” Villy corrected. “And I’m going to assist with one of them—something I’m certain you’ve overlooked.”

“Now I’m interested,” Jake said, tilting his head. He expected a prank, but Villy’s expression remained serious.

“To maximize your Records for B-grade, you should fully upgrade your titles. If I’m right, your Dungeon Pioneer title has been completely ignored,” the Viper said, reminding Jake of a detail he hadn’t considered in years.

Jake quickly checked his status to look at the title, realizing Villy was right.

[Dungeon Pioneer VI] – Be the first to clear a dungeon suitable for your level. +24 all stats.

Jake’s last upgrade to this title had been the Undergrowth clear shortly after reaching D-grade. That was ages ago. It wasn't that he couldn't clear dungeons; it was just that he didn't seek them out.

Earth lacked dungeons that interested him, and he preferred hunting in the wild. The dungeons he had entered were either already cleared by the Order or were part of Nevermore.

He saw why Villy mentioned it. The title provided +3 to all stats for the first five levels and +9 for level six. If it followed the Dungeoneer title's progression, it would give +27 stats per level from ten to fifteen. A quick calculation showed he was missing out on a total of +171 to all stats.

But for Jake, it was even better. As a Peerless Conqueror of Nevermore, his dungeon titles received an extra boost.

With that bonus, Jake could claim a total of +256 to all stats by fully upgrading Dungeon Pioneer. And that was before his percentage modifiers doubled the value.

In short, there were massive stat gains waiting… if he could find nine level-appropriate, uncleared dungeons. That was where his Patron came in.

“You’re right. I haven't touched it since early D-grade. It’s only at level six,” Jake admitted, looking at the snake god expectantly.

“So you need nine dungeons?” the Viper raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I forgot to count my own initial Challenge Dungeon. My mistake. Regardless, I’ve located ten dungeons for you—all previously uncleared and perfectly suited for a peak C-grade.”

Jake couldn't help but smile at the Viper. “That’s genuinely one of the kindest things anyone has done for me.”

“I know, I’m great,” Villy smirked. “I even made sure they were all natural dungeons. While the data is inconclusive, I believe it’s better to earn Dungeon Pioneer upgrades from natural formations rather than artificial ones.”

Jake was happy to hear it, but one concern remained. “There’s one issue… I’ve been away from Earth for a while. I feel like I’m overdue for a visit with my family.”

“Ah, about that,” Villy sighed. “They’re gone.”

Jake’s eyes widened in shock before the deity clarified.

“As in, they aren't on Earth. I just checked. Apparently, they’ve gone to explore the multiverse. Seeing so many off-world visitors made them curious. Your nephew is also at the age where seeing the world is good for his development.”

“Did you really have to phrase it like that? You almost gave me a heart attack,” Jake snapped, glaring at him.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but heart attacks aren't a thing for you anymore,” the Viper noted. “A heart attack, or myocardial infarction, was a blockage of blood flow to the heart, usually caused by arterial disease. Risk factors included high blood pressure, smoking, and diabetes—things your science was just starting to understand before the integration. Luckily, those cardiac issues are now irrelevant for cultivators.”

“You’re being especially annoying today,” Jake muttered.

“Not really,” Villy grinned. “I just enjoy messing with you, especially after a big win. Have to keep your ego in check, great Dragonslayer. Speaking of which, damn it, I lost another bet.”

“Do I even want to know?” Jake asked, already regretting it.

“It wasn't much. Just a wager on whether you’d become a Dragonslayer or a Dragonlayer first. I bet on the second one—not because I doubted your hunting skills, but because I figured a Dragonflight would send a young female whelp so aggressive you wouldn't be able to resist,” the snake god sighed.

“That’s incredibly disrespectful,” Jake said, glaring again.

“In my defense, the Emberflight were really trying to get a piece of your Bloodline for a while. And you’ve shown you aren't exactly opposed to that sort of thing, so I liked my odds,” Villy argued.

“At least Duskleaf believed in me,” Jake sighed.

“Actually, I’ll do you a favor and not tell you why he picked the other side,” the Viper said.

“I’m done asking,” Jake said, moving back to the dungeons. “If my family isn't home, I might as well start the grind. How big are these dungeons? What’s the difficulty?”

“I had Dungeon Engineers scan them from the outside. These ten were picked from over four hundred candidates,” Villy explained, showing how much prep work he’d done. “They were chosen for their high difficulty and small size. That means either the mobs are very elite, or the final boss is a nightmare.”

“Any chance for B-grade bosses?” Jake asked hopefully. He knew dungeons that crossed grades, like the ones Minaga built, were incredibly rare.

“Of course. Otherwise, you wouldn't gain any levels,” the Viper said, sounding offended by the question. “Upgrading titles is the goal, but we should be efficient with your experience. I don't want you getting bored. While they won't be as strong as a True Dragon, the bosses should provide a decent challenge.”

Jake nodded, fully on board. Villy was right—securing those titles while gaining levels was the perfect way to spend his time.

Recovery came first, but after that, it was time for a dungeon marathon.