The Primal Hunter Volume 5

Focus Perfected

Focus Perfected

D

uskleaf appeared beside the Malefic Viper and 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. At first glance, he 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—or, 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 said, smiling. "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,” Duskleaf said, disapproving. “It may influence his Path and lead him somewhere he did not intend to go.”

"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.”

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’d 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, 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 formed by fifty thousand years of experience and practice? 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.

Never learned to struggle. Never learned to truly focus. Never stood before what seemed like an insurmountable barrier and, rather than giving up or trying to find a way around, slowly and methodologically figured out a way to climb it, a single inch at a time.

Duskleaf smiled as he looked at Jake below. The young Chosen did not need to struggle. He could cruise relatively easily through these grades but chose not to. In all honesty, Jake was not the most talented person Duskleaf had seen—far from it. He was good, definitely top-tier, but there were some true monsters nearly beyond comparison out there.

However, what set Jake apart was that his talent also seemed to include a different mindset. A mind that was able to have a singular focus on a task. He remembered hearing the assessment from the trial dungeon, where Jake had gained the highest possible assessment from that part of the alchemy test. Coupled with his inability to give up once he set a goal for himself, it truly set him apart.

It was like he 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 another challenge to beat. In a way, he truly was a born hunter, regardless of whether the object of his hunt was killing or success. Even if Jake was not talented, he would go far through sheer force of will.

This part of Jake reminded Duskleaf a bit of…

"I remember this one student I myself took in," the Viper spoke. "Not to mince words, but damn, did he suck. His mana control was all over the place. 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 in was using his Alchemical Flame."

The old alchemist shook his head and stroked his beard. "Master, I⁠—"

"Man, was he a dunce. I was amazed at how bad he was, yet this i***t kept trying. Kept attempting to craft things even after failing a thousand times and kept improving himself 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. s**t, 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 after spending a long enough time bashing his head into the cauldron."

The Malefic Viper looked at Duskleaf with a smile.

"Wouldn’t you agree, my dear dunce of a disciple?"

Two katars clashed as the 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 hit was blocked or dodged, with both fighters looking for an opening.

Finally, one presented itself. Both katars were aimed at the thigh of the opponent, but suddenly, both men froze, their eyes flashing yellow. The fight paused for half a second as both disengaged from their attack and drew bows, nocking and firing two arrows in unison.