The Primal Hunter Chapter 1268 - Season's Passing

The Sword Saint remained seated with legs crossed, his sword resting on his lap, eyes fully alert as he observed from the modest mountain peak. He gazed at the verdant treetops stretching toward the distant skyline; the river cascading along the mountain flanks as ice thawed, much of the liquid pooling into a lake before turning to vapor, creating clouds that floated back to the heights, only to descend once more as snowfall and downpours.

Creatures populated the serene valleys beneath, without any formidable beasts visible. The mightiest visible were fresh E-grade evolutions, yet they preferred solitude, retreating to caverns or dozing in open spaces that other monsters avoided entirely.

With the flow of time, the air grew chillier, and the foliage faded from green, leaves tumbling from their majestic branches mere months afterward. As winter arrived, snow blanketed the valley, forcing most beasts into hiding while the cold summoned ice and snow elementals. These beings clashed with each other and any intruders, though they served as targets for stronger foes, particularly the E-grades.

As winter drew to a close and warmth returned, these elementals migrated to the mountains, seeking the lingering chill to endure and possibly strengthen, aiming one day for E-grade status.

Fresh buds sprouted on the branches, the river resumed its rush, and spring's arrival marked the start of yet another seasonal loop. Miyamoto observed it all from his perch on the summit, his mere passive presence sufficient to repel any life on this world, devoid even of a single D-grade.

Seasons rolled on through the endless cycle, from summer to autumn, winter, and spring anew. Each year brought completion of the full round, and subtly, the planet expanded a touch more.

In this manner, years slipped by as the Sword Saint stayed motionless, absorbing the surroundings and witnessing the perpetual repetition of nature's rhythm.

In a separate realm, two beings closely monitored the C-grade's reflection, one tending to the innards of a tiny wristwatch. The other resembled a hobgoblin, whom Jake would identify, lounging idly despite stacks of finished timepieces piled nearby.

“He’s just watching time pass, huh?” the hobgoblin, also a god by chance, inquired with interest.

Aeon replied without glancing up. “In part, yes.”

“But not really, right?” the hobgoblin grinned, adjusting his position slightly, causing ethereal grains to swirl about him. “His Transcendent is odd. Linked to time and seasons, yet deeply connected to his core self.”

Aeon nodded simply, employing a small tool to fit the minuscule gear into place.

“I get why training someone like that is tough, but dropping him on a time-dilated world like this works, I suppose,” the hobgoblin remarked with a casual lift of his shoulders. “Think it’ll pay off? We know it’s incredibly difficult, but you’re betting on a C-grade pulling it off?”

“I do,” Aeon affirmed, applying the last details to the device. “He’s an old soul. He possesses the patience, determination, and capacity for it.”

“If you say so,” the hobgoblin responded, remaining doubtful. And rightly so.

He aimed to push the C-grade Sword Saint toward an achievement even gods doubted, no, one most deities couldn't attempt due to lacking the fundamental prerequisite:

Being a Transcendent.

Though Transcendences and Bloodlines get likened as "external" system features, they differ greatly. A Bloodline enhances the Truesoul and bearer inherently, and while Transcendent status also alters the soul to reflect it, the change is far subtler.

Moreover, Bloodlines constantly influence their hosts. They mold the traits of those around them, inseparable from the individual. Transcendents stand in stark contrast: theirs emerges from their very essence.

Yet the core significance lies in attaining Transcendent status. It demands creating a Transcendent Skill.

Key word: skill.

And skills can evolve.

Precisely what Aeon Clok, the Primordial of Time, charged the Sword Saint with achieving prior to B-grade ascension. An absurd demand for a human freshly introduced to the system, yet the Primordial appeared convinced of success.

The hobgoblin god challenged his ancient mentor, but observing the human over recent years revealed the roots of such faith. Scant few, even gods, could match the C-grade's endurance without an Avatar or external aid, for the hobgoblin could scarcely fathom the tedium gripping the aged-appearing man.

Typically, prolonged stillness involved meditation. Such sessions resembled light slumber over extended durations, allowing detachment from the world and oblivious passage of time.

The human pursued the reverse. Eyes wide, thoughts sharp, he absorbed each instant of every day unflinchingly, embracing the world's shifts. Sustaining that for years demanded impressive mental resilience and a temperament suited to it. Certain individuals, despite rigorous practice, could never manage, as it clashed with their Path.

The hobgoblin visited briefly for leisure, but to the human, far more time elapsed, and given his posture upon the god's arrival, he'd persisted for years prior. Enduring such a feat...

“I see why you call him an old soul,” the hobgoblin smiled. “So, how long has he been there? A decade?”

Aeon glanced up momentarily while reattaching the watch's crystal, verifying the hands moved flawlessly.

Noting no reply, the hobgoblin arched a brow. “Longer? Two decades? Three? Damn, I'd be bored out of my mind, and if you'd pulled that on me as your Chosen, I'd have gone rogue fast.”

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“No, you’d have persisted until feigning a breakdown to quit, and I’d have permitted it knowing you faked,” Aeon stated, eyes fixed downward.

“Okay, true,” the hobgoblin laughed, nostalgia washing over him from fond memories. “But you dodged. How long exactly?”

Aeon paused thoughtfully before responding. “Six, nearing seven.”

“Decades?” the hobgoblin uttered, blending pity and admiration for the human. Most would crack or depart, or at least shift by now, yet he endured the seasonal flux so long—

“No, and note, he requested this himself,” Aeon clarified, eyeing the display of the C-grade human in contemplation. “Centuries. Altogether, 689 years and 124... 125 days since he began.”

The hobgoblin stared at Aeon in shock before shifting back to the seated human. “That... if his psyche withstands it... what emerges afterward?”

Aeon joined the hobgoblin in watching the figure called the Sword Saint without much delay.

“My next Chosen.”

Power corrupted deeply, transforming loyal companions into tormentors who ignored their elder's lack of B-grade speed prowess. Jake strained to follow as the bird and space worm darted ahead, reveling in sudden accelerations and decelerations while he futilely fought to stay close.

Sandy teased as the worm blinked beside Jake then vanished forward again.

“Ree!” Sylphie shrieked, soaring past his shoulder, always edging slightly ahead. Not by much, but enough to remind him she could outpace him effortlessly if inclined. Indeed, they bullied him outright, and Jake puzzled why he'd consented when Haven's teleportation hub waited.

Truthfully, he knew the reason. Sensing Sylphie and Sandy's auras hinted at their B-grade shifts, but journeying alongside revealed volumes more.

As innate B-grades, the system viewed them as youths in development until this evolution. Jake anticipated it in theory, but witnessing confirmed their vast leap from one transformation.

This marked the peak of their maturation, a grand achievement across the multiverse. Plus, their diligent efforts during growth elevated them beyond typical monsters in parallel scenarios. It separated a lazy powerhouse like Yrelstromoz from a prodigy who'd refined skills and notched countless accomplishments.

Forget not the pivotal titles. Yrelstromoz probably lacked notables, whereas Sylphie and Sandy boasted several, Sylphie with more, largely from the Nevermore venture.

Jake anticipated gauging their full potential, though without his own evolution, full comprehension seemed elusive. Even at peak output, breaching Sandy's barriers felt uncertain from current glimpses.

Sylphie lobbed wind bursts at the worm sporadically, each potent enough to trigger Jake's instincts, urging evasion if aimed his way. Sandy shrugged them off casually, even appreciating the relief from an itch.

Luckily for Jake, their post-B-grade gains stayed minimal, focused on adapting to new abilities over grinding levels.

Now mature, advancement would slow regardless, though their Paths held steady. Sandy remained a devourer, consuming all energy-rich matter under the skies, while Sylphie, the predator, thrived on hunts and kills for progress. Skill refinement aided growth too, but trailed their core drives.

Their levels not surging past Jake eased his mind somewhat, and frankly, wasn't he matching them decently for a non-monster? Beasts advanced quicker than enlightened beings, especially high-grade natives. And no, per his recent race hypothesis, Jake excluded himself from their bracket.

Amid flight and reflection, an idea hit Jake. “Did anything unusual occur in your evolutions? Maybe something noteworthy I'd want to hear, tied to my role in them?”

Sylphie cocked her head, puzzled by the query, as Sandy pondered briefly before replying.

Sandy stated, indicating the Cosmic Genesis Worm encountered nothing odd.

“Ree!” Sylphie affirmed no spectral Jake appeared during hers either.

“Good to hear,” Jake murmured, acknowledging Sandy's logic. Even non-standard evolutions, how could they detect? They couldn't, unless blatant. Otherwise, it might simply reflect their races' unique processes.

They conversed lightly while soaring, the pair cruising leisurely as Jake exerted to match the pesky B-grades. Though griping, their pace hastened arrival at Labyrinth City, albeit lagging behind a direct teleporter jaunt. Sandy noted as the city neared. Well, for Sandy, via their peculiar spatial awareness.

“Sure is,” Jake agreed.

“Ree?” Sylphie queried.

Sandy explained.

“Ree?” Sylphie pressed as they bantered, Jake descending toward the dungeon entrance. Touching down, he scanned about, pausing until a head emerged from an adjacent wall.

“Back to give more bad reviews?” Minaga’s projection inquired in a pouty tone.

“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 eyed Minaga briefly before the Unique Lifeform continued.

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

With that, a magic circle materialized on a close round platform, shimmering with power.

“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 stepped onto the magic circle and swiftly confirmed dungeon entry, eager to dispatch Aginians rapidly for swift evolution.

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

Without delay, Jake confirmed the prompt and dove into the dungeon for one last rampage before B-grade evolution beckoned.