Road to Mastery 5: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure, page 14
“Here we are,” Vermont said, approaching a heavy iron door. This was the only area so far which wasn’t densely constructed—the Council had some degree of prestige, though not much, given by the rather ordinary appearance of the building they were about to enter. It was like the average town hall.
The inside was as simple as its exterior. Clean corridors made of brightly-colored wood, decorated with long lines of statues. Most were well-preserved—the Black Hole people were masters of preservation.
Jack reached what seemed like a conference room. Five old men and six old women sat on either side of a long table, with yet another old woman at its head. “Grand Elder Pasan,” Vermont greeted her, then walked to the empty chair at the men’s side of the table.
“Hello,” Jack said simply. He was polite but saw no need to be overly respectful. In his eyes, these D-Grades were desperately weak.
He caught himself. Have I lost my mind? These are people… They could be my mother.
Before they could respond, he corrected his greeting. “My name is Jack Rust. It’s an honor to make your acquaintance.”
The leading woman’s face brightened. “I am called Pasan, the current leader of the Black Hole people.”
The other eleven Elders also introduced themselves.
“Would you like some tea? Or anything to eat, perhaps?” Pasan asked.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Jack replied, sitting down on a chair Mia had brought him.
Pasan nodded. “I believe you know our situation. We have been trapped here for a billion years with no way to access the outside world. You are the first visitor we’ve ever encountered… if you could explain some things, we would be in your debt.”
“What would you like to know?”
She smiled. “Everything!”
Jack tried to laugh, but the sound only came out as half-dead panting. He spoke regardless. He hid nothing. Everything he knew about the current state of the universe, every piece of history and insight, he told them, all the way from the Immortal Crusade to the present. Pasan and the other Elders occasionally interrupted to ask questions, but they mostly listened.
While detailing the history of the cosmos, Jack included parts of his own story. Intuitively, he felt safe here. He voiced some of his grievances, framing everything in the current darkness of his mind. Of course, he mentioned nothing about Eric—he was far from ready to discuss that issue.
By the time he was done, two hours had passed. He was startled. Speaking like this hadn’t really lightened his mood, but it had made his mind slightly less dark. Apparently, talking to good listeners was therapeutic. Who would have known?
The Elders sat in silence, not hurrying to respond. They digested the information. Finally, it was Pasan who spoke again.
“You sound like you’ve been through a lot,” she said.
“More than I would like,” Jack replied honestly.
“Mm. It’s fine. You don’t have to show your heart to us—just know that this is a safe place.”
Jack raised his gaze, meeting her smiling, deep eyes. Had she seen through the darkness in his heart? Then again, he hadn’t tried to hide it.
Old people had their ways to judge people.
Unfortunately, his mind remained a mess. Speaking about the world had helped him put his thoughts in order, but he desperately needed to take some time alone and work through his feelings—as much as he dreaded it.
“Thank you,” he replied. “I would like some time alone now, if it’s not a problem. If there is anything you would like me to clarify, I can do so at our next meeting.”
“Of course!” Pasan agreed. “Thank you for everything you told us. We will also take some time to consider things. For now, we have already arranged a house for you to live in. Mia, would you be so kind as to lead Jack over?”
“Sure thing!” Mia responded. “Thank you, Grand Elder.”
Jack said his goodbyes and followed Mia out of the room. She led him deeper into this layer—toward a sizable house not too far away from the Elder Council.
“What’s your deal?” Jack asked, eyeing Mia. “You’re not an Elder, are you?”
“Nope. Just an ordinary girl,” she replied with a wink. “Here in the Black Hole world, we all have similar statuses, and there are no barriers between us either. As for why I was allowed in the Elder Council… Well, I’ve just volunteered to take care of you. I’m nobody special.”
Jack would have smiled if he wasn’t mourning. The pain bubbled up from inside him, and he urgently needed to be left alone so he could let it all out. “Thank you, Mia. Here is fine. I can travel the rest of the way myself,” he said, using his powers to instantly teleport inside his house. Though space was weird here, a short-range teleportation was still within his abilities.
Jack sat on his bed. For the first time in a while, he did not care about the state of the world or any other matters. He did not think.
For a while, he just sat there being sad.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE
Nightmares.
The phantom of a large leonine laughing before red skies. Dark rain and booming thunder. Blinding flashes of lightning. Jack running at full speed, yet remaining in the same place, forced to watch as a young boy was shred to pieces by the razor-sharp falling rain.
“Dad!” the boy screamed.
“NOOO!”
His eyes snapped open. With a pained grunt, he grabbed his head. Tears had formed at some point—not of grief, but of frustration. The pain of being helpless.
Jack smashed a fist into a cabinet, tearing it to pieces. “No!” he roared again, his voice cracking the walls.
This was not the first time in Jack’s life that he’d experienced grief. His father had died a few years before the Integration. They had been very close—and that man, Eric Rust, was the person Jack’s son had been named after.
Yet, the difference between then and now was astounding. It was simply a different world, and not only because of the circumstances. Losing one’s father was painful, but also natural; the way things were supposed to be. It was a pain through which a person could grow and mature, a sort of rite of passage to true manhood.
But losing one’s son went against the natural order. It wasn’t supposed to be experienced. While Jack’s heart had supported him last time, now, it could not. It was unprepared. Bursts of agony shot through his brain. Grief and fury warred with guilt and fear, the slithering feeling of weakness numbing his limbs.
It was all a jumbled mess of feelings Jack had to unravel. He would be fine, eventually—he genuinely believed and hoped so. But, until then…
Why does it have to be so hard? he asked the sky he could no longer see.
His mind sought peace. It fell into the familiar routine of meditation, though it achieved little. The grief was insurmountable, at least for now—it was not something that could be overcome in a short period of time. Jack could only turn to bright thoughts. His son was gone, but he still had a daughter. A wife. A mother, a brother, friends, and a planet to protect.
And Eric had lived a good life, minus its last act.
How are they doing? Jack wondered, thinking back to the rest of his family. Eva Solvig had told him they were safe, and he didn’t dare doubt those words, but the circumstances of Eric’s kidnapping were still unknown to Jack.
Do they know? Do they think I am dead as well? Are they mourning, or are they struggling to become stronger?
Ebele is definitely cultivating. That girl is talented and hardworking—I only hope she doesn’t push herself too much. And Vivi… She’s a fighter as well. If she knows about my situation, I’m sure she’ll take the safety of Earth into her own hands. She’ll keep everyone safe until I can return.
Thinking about his family dispelled the darkness in Jack’s mind somewhat, giving him the power to consider other matters.
My Dao is cracked… he thought with sadness. He looked inside himself—the Dao Tree lay barren, its roots misshapen and unable to absorb the surrounding Dao efficiently. A massive crack running down its trunk had even split apart the door of the Life Drop, and the five fruits on its branches were pale and lifeless, no longer glowing as they once had been. Even the Life Drop was unresponsive.
Now, his previously glorious days were but a dream of old, a memory of ages long past.
As Jack investigated his situation, he discovered that his combat prowess had dropped from the early B-Grade to the peak C-Grade. It seemed small, but it was actually a tremendous drop—his current power was just a fraction of what it used to be.
Half of his losses were due to his Dao cracking. The rest was the price he paid when he overdrew himself to escape Eva Solvig’s grasp and rushed into the black hole—a temporary, if severe weakening.
Jack sighed and shook his head. He had to admit this was the lowest point of his life. He’d suffered a devastating loss, and even recovering his former power would be difficult. On the bright side, if he did manage to recover, the benefits he would reap from this adventure would be incalculable… but that would be as difficult as climbing the heavens. Cracks in one’s Dao tended to be permanent.
And, in any case, no matter how great his potential benefits, he never would have traded his son’s life for them.
Jack took a deep breath, then another. The pain of his grief receded to the back of his mind, a dark numbing he endured while focusing on other things. It felt like he’d lost everything, but he actually hadn’t. Brock and his other friends, Vivi, Ebele, the professor, all of them were still alive. He had to fight for them.
Most importantly, he had a very clear sense of purpose driving him through these hard times.
Revenge.
Jack’s eyes flashed darkly. Artus Emberheart… and everyone else who participated in the death of my son, I will destroy you. When I’m done, the name Emberheart will no longer exist in this galaxy!
This was a solemn oath he’d made in the name of his dead son, and one he was determined to see through. However, killing innocent people would only make him the same as Artus. It would rob him of his humanity, turn him into a cultivating monster.
Was that the path he wanted to follow? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that, right now, that dark vengeance was the driving force he needed to ignore his grief and keep pushing forward.
I need to restore my powers, he determined. As soon as possible.
After all, time hadn’t stopped. Who knew what was happening in the outside world while he was trapped here? He had to hurry—but repairing a cracked Dao was easier said than done.
What failed in my Fist? he asked himself. The fist is power. The fist is strength. The fist is to straightforwardly break through all obstacles, laughing in the process. Either I succeed or I die—that is the essence of the fist. Even in death, I would laugh.
But I never thought my son would die. What meaning is there in charging forth when I cannot protect those behind me? How can I face all problems head-on when that endangers my loved ones? Should I bend my back sometimes to keep them safe? But that is not the Fist.
This problem wouldn’t exist if my power was high enough, but it isn’t. How could it be? There are always stronger people in the world. My Fist was fine with that because it was fine with dying, but failing to save someone while living myself is not an acceptable result.
Was my Fist doomed to fail?
Jack could see this now. From the very first moment he’d embraced the Fist, this was bound to happen. It was just a flaw he’d never perceived. In the past, he’d coated over it by advocating that his path was set, and that anyone who followed him had resigned themselves to the consequences of that path. If one of his followers died as a result of Jack’s Fist-guided actions, then that was fine, because by choosing to follow him they had become extensions of that Fist. It wouldn’t be much different than Jack himself dying.
In a few words, he owed nothing to anyone. Even if all of Earth was destroyed, that was their fault for not being strong enough—Jack had already saved them, so he could not be faulted for being unable to save them the next time.
That all stopped being true when it came to people he truly cared about—people who, perhaps, had never had a choice. Eric had never chosen to follow Jack. Moreover, by being Eric’s father, Jack tacitly accepted the responsibility of protecting him. It was his job—and failing was a tragedy that his Dao of the Fist had never taken into account. That was why it had cracked—it had no way to reconcile its understanding of the world with the reality before Jack’s eyes. His Dao was proven incomplete, which was exactly what the crack signified.
Repairing that crack now would be a difficult road. First of all, Jack had to come up with a worldview which fit both reality and the Fist—resolving the proven flaw in his Dao. The problem was that his Dao had been set in stone when he broke into the D-Grade. At that time, he declared his Dao to the world and gotten it approved by all the other Daos.
Following a Dao was not just a path to power. It was a commitment. Back then, Jack had committed to a very specific Dao, and that was the foundation upon which he’d built his current strength. He couldn’t just go back and alter it. The only way to repair the Dao crack was to find a solution still inside the narrow confines he’d once committed to. In other words, he had to prove that his Dao was correct, and that it was his own understanding at the time which was insufficient.
That was why repairing a Dao crack was such a tremendously unlikely task.
Thinking this far left Jack exhausted. He opened his eyes and released a long sigh—though he saw the road ahead, that didn’t mean he could walk it. There was a great chance his Dao could never be repaired. If that was the case, he would be forced to live the rest of his life unable to make another breakthrough, and he would also be trapped inside this dark and stuffy Black Hole World.
Ten thousand years. That was the lifespan of a C-Grade, and that was the time he would remain alive for. Meanwhile, his friends and family would be unprotected in the outside world, forced to fend for themselves against the very powerful enemies that Jack had made them.
“I need some air,” he muttered, slowly rising to his feet. He walked to the door and opened it, greeted by the daedalus terrain of the Black Hole World. He was also greeted by Mia.
“Hey!” she said, rising from a chair she’d brought over and pocketing the small book she’d been reading.
Jack raised a brow. “What are you doing outside my door?”
“I’ve been asked to take care of you, silly. I couldn’t just leave you alone.”
“But why didn’t you wait inside? I have a living room.”
“You seemed like you didn’t want company.”
Jack was forced to nod. His mind had been a mess when he’d just left her and teleported inside. She’d judged correctly.
But how low he’d fallen, that he couldn’t even observe basic manners.
“How long was I inside?” he asked.
“Hmm? How long? We don’t measure time here. You were in, and now you’re out.”
“How can you not measure time?”
“It’s dangerous. Some of our ancestors were doing that but ended up killing themselves. In this world which never changes, keeping time only brings despair. It’s better to just live without a care, becoming one with the world around you, focusing on the present.”
Jack was dumbfounded. It was hard to associate such profound words with the innocent girl before him. Then again, this was her reality. A world that never changed, where every generation was as insignificant as the previous, leaving no imprint on the world as if they never existed.
“Then, how do you know it’s been a billion years?” he asked.
“Oh, there’s always an Elder entrusted with the important task of keeping time and recording history. In our generation, that’s Elder Vermont—the one you’ve already met.”
“I see…”
“Well, what are we up to now?” Mia asked. “You’re leaving the house. Do you want to go for a walk? Food? Tea? Maybe explore a bit, or see the Vortex, or the endless nothingness outside our world?”
Jack hadn’t planned on doing any of that. He just wanted some fresh air. However, since his mood was a bit better, he thought he might as well. “Let’s check out that nothingness. It can’t be that bad.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
STAR-EYE WONDER
The nothingness was impressive. There were flickers of light, multi-colored curtains washing over the void reminiscent of Earth’s auroras. They swam and wrapped around each other in the sky, yet they did not exist—nothing but visions the mind invented to protect itself from true nihility.
“What do you think?” Mia asked, puffing up her chest. “Isn’t it impressive?”
Jack gave a small smile. He’d seen this before. The so-called nothingness was the interdimensional void, the gap between dimensions in which the Green Dragon Realm was also situated. Perhaps even the whole universe was just an island in this massive sea where space and time held no meaning, where distance and size were irrelevant.
Maybe, much further down the road of cultivation, Jack would have the power to traverse this sea. But he definitely didn’t now. If he tried to fly into it, he would just… disappear.
“Have you never tried to explore it?” he asked. He remembered that the Black Hole People used to have A-Grades in their ranks.
“Explore what? The nothingness?” She chuckled. “Don’t be silly.”
Jack nodded. He’d expected that. Yet, interacting with this interdimensional sea shouldn’t be impossible. Archon Green Dragon and the ancestor of these people—Archon Black Hole—had both established their own small world inside this sea. It was a frontier meant for those at the highest peaks.
Jack looked away, choosing not to bother with things so far beyond him. The Black Hole People were right—they called the interdimensional sea “nothingness” and had established lounging spots here, at the top of their eighty-third layer, so people could relax and enjoy the view. Just by looking to the sides, Jack could see many groups of wealthy individuals eating under the aurora.
