Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse
Chapter 100: Carving a Way Out

“There is no time for sentimentality!” Master Shol seemed to regain himself. “We must find a way out of this or you’ll die at the stake. The tournament will be over in a few minutes, and the Animal Kingdom will surely find an excuse to attack you as soon as possible.”

“I see.”

“Luckily, it seems you are going to win the tournament. One of the rewards for first place is a D-Grade robot bodyguard. That should be enough to protect you unless the planetary overseer acts herself, but if that comes to pass, nobody can save you, anyway.”

“Do you think she will?” Jack asked hesitantly.

“No. Regardless, there is no point in worrying about that. If she acts, you’re dead. If she doesn’t, every scion and agent of the Animal Kingdom will be after you soon after you walk out of this arena. They won’t be able to touch you or your people while you have the robot bodyguard, but that will only delay the inevitable. In one year, the Animal Kingdom’s true forces will arrive, and the very first thing they will do on this planet is execute you and anyone you care about.”

“I see.” Jack didn’t let fear cloud his judgment. Now was the time for action, not worry. “So we return to the plan where I must take my people and flee.” It pained his heart to say it. He would take a bunch of mortals into shark-filled waters. Even if he found some way for them to escape without teleportation, the chances of them surviving were slim.

“There is no other choice.” Master Shol sighed.

But Jack refused to accept this. He put his mind to work. Simple and direct solutions had worked for him so far—or they hadn’t—but the time had come to use the intelligence that had almost netted him a PhD pre-apocalypse—a PhD that now seemed as far away as a distant dream. He would never complete those few missing details.

At the same time, anger and stubbornness boiled up inside Jack. These aliens made rules and broke them. Rules were nothing to the strong.

But that was fine. If rules meant nothing, then Jack would make his own. If power was all that mattered, then Jack would reach for power.

If he wanted things to go his way, he had to take charge. Suddenly, he felt like his eyes had been half-closed but were now finally open. This was how things worked in the galaxy.

So what if there was no way out? He would find one.

Jack grinned.

He poured through every bit of knowledge he had. Even if Master Shol seemed resigned, Jack refused to give up. That was not the way of the fist. He would find a path to survival, to victory. It didn’t matter how difficult it was. If there was a path, he would walk it, and if there wasn’t, he would make it.

And as he thought of that, an idea sprung in his mind. An idea that was undoubtedly insane, but which might be his only chance.

“Master,” he said, “what are the chances of me reaching the C-Grade in a year?”

“What?” Master Shol gave him an odd look. “None. Why do you ask?”

“Is it really impossible? Or is it just highly improbable?”

“Don’t use my words against me, kid.” The ghost forced himself to smile. “Highly improbable is an underestimation. You have the same chances as randomly choosing the correct grain of sand out of an entire beach.”

“But it is a chance.”

“What’s in your mind, boy? The things you are saying are impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Jack replied. He was aware that his abrupt increase in power was skewing his perception, but he was also confident that he made at least some sense. “How about this? I leave the D-Grade robot bodyguard to guard my faction, and I leave the planet right away. Today. As soon as the tournament ends, before they can make a move on me.”

Master Shol widened his eyes in disbelief but let him continue.

“Think about it,” Jack insisted. “Everyone will be protected here. Even the Flame River, Dorman, and all of them can hide in my faction if they want. They will be safe for a year. Nobody will reach the D-Grade by then.”

“Rufus Emberheart might, but it’s highly improbable,” Master Shol muttered. He didn’t agree with Jack’s plan yet, but his enthusiasm was clearly getting to him.

“Exactly,” Jack said. “At the same time, I will be alone in the galaxy. It will be tough out there, but you said it yourself: the greatest growth comes with the greatest danger. I will hunt opportunities with everything I have, and if I survive, my power should rise meteorically. It’s the same principle as the Integration: a large meat grinder that heavily rewards the survivors.”

“That is suicide,” Master Shol disagreed. “With your potential, risking your life like that is idiotic. There is no need.”

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

Master Shol stayed silent for a moment. “Even if you do that,” he finally said, “there is no way you will reach the C-Grade in a year. I suppose you mean to fight the planetary overseer?”

“Exactly. The Animal Kingdom cannot send reinforcements. If I can beat her and destroy their teleporters before the grace period is up, we will be cut off from their network. They will need to reach us physically, which will take at least several months. And if I can beat the planetary overseer, who exactly will they send against us? A B-Grade? The galaxy’s strongest for one planet out of millions?”

Master Shol muttered something to himself. “That is incorrect. If you insult their honor like that, a dozen C-Grades will be on the planet within a week. There are ways to accelerate space travel, they’re just expensive.” He paused, watching Jack’s tight frown. “However…”

At this, Jack perked up.

“However,” Master Shol continued, “what you describe has a name: planet poaching. It has happened before, though not by a planet’s natives. It is a method used between B-Grade factions during silent war. If you defeat the planetary overseer, you can claim the entire planet for your faction. Then, if you are close to the border, you can choose to join another constellation, provided the other B-Grade faction allows it.”

Jack’s eyes lit up. “I could join your constellation?”

“Theoretically, yes. If you really manage to defeat a C-Grade in a year, there is no way my faction will ignore you. But as I said, that’s simply impossible.”

“You said it’s not impossible.”

“Almost impossible.”

“All I hear is that it’s doable.” Jack smiled. “And even if not, there might be other opportunities for me out there. Maybe I can find another C-Grade willing to help me take over this planet, or maybe I can find some way to transport all my people out of here. In any case, all answers lie in one place: the galaxy.”

Master Shol pursed his lips. “And you would leave the D-Grade bodyguard here? You must know that an early E-Grade is nothing out there. Barely an ant. Half the people you meet will be able to crush you under their boots.”

“That’s fine. I will find a way to survive. I am not a coward.”

“Protection isn’t cowardice.”

“It is, if it means sacrificing others.”

Master Shol fell silent at this. Jack didn’t speak, either; he could see his master mulling over the information, trying to convince himself to believe it.

“I agree with Jack,” Edgar spoke up. Sweat shone on his forehead from holding up the shield all this time, but he couldn’t let it go now. “We are all marked for death. As difficult as it sounds, what he proposes is our only chance at survival—I mean, obviously defeating the C-Grade is impossible, but he can find some other way. He’s strong enough to garner attention.”

Brock beat his chest and released a battle cry. Jack smiled sadly at him. “I’m sorry, buddy, but…you cannot join me. Teleportation doesn’t work on F-Grades.”

Brock’s eyes went wide as saucers. Tears welled up in their depths.

“He could, actually,” Master Shol intervened. “The System obviously recognizes your spiritual bond, since it teleported him to the tournament with you. It will let you bear the pressure for him. It will be tough, but given your strength, I think you can handle it.”

“Really?” Jack’s face showed a massive, bright smile. He had been prepared to part ways with Brock. His spirit soared. Brock, too, jumped up and down in joy. Jack turned to him. “What do you say, little bro? Will you join me?”

Brock nodded instantly.

“Are you sure? It means you won’t see your family for a while—and, to be honest, we will probably both die.”

This time, Brock considered it for a moment, but he still nodded in the end. What kind of bro would say no?

Jack’s eyes moistened, and he blinked it away. For the first time, he noticed that Brock had grown rather big. Where he used to sit on Jack’s shoulder, he now reached above his knees.

Brorilla, Level 21 (Elite)

“Oh, wow. You’re growing so fast, Brock!”

The brorilla cheered.

“Fine,” Master Shol’s voice came from the side. Jack turned. “Fine, you crazy disciple, fine. You have the mind of a true cultivator; if you perish, that will only be fate.”

Jack smiled widely. “Thank you, Master!”

“Can we hurry, please?” Edgar said, his voice strained. “We’re running out of time.”

“Yes. Listen closely.” Master Shol leaned in. “The teleporter is right behind the arena. You’ve seen it, haven’t you? The big, furnace-like building. As soon as you receive your tournament rewards, rush there and teleport to a random place so they can’t follow you. As a newly-Integrated native, the first teleportation will be free for you. After that, don’t slack on your training; find strong opponents to hone yourself against. Maybe strong masters to guide you, too. Don’t rely too much on experience balls; they will get you through the E-Grade fast, but they will stump your growth later on.”

Master Shol’s advice was rapid-fire, but it was also golden. Jack kept every word in mind. “Understood, Master.”

“And most importantly, find a way to reach the Trial Planet. It is the single most important place for you right now; there is no shortage of opportunity there, only of strength. You’ll either make it big or be torn apart by King monsters—the next step after Elites. The easiest way to reach the Trial Planet is through the Belarian Outpost, the trade center of this constellation, but any place with advanced teleporters will do. You have a token, if I remember correctly, so you’ve already cleared the tallest hurdle. Also, while you’re out there, look for a beast master. Brock is a brave young brorilla, and he will be of great help to you if trained properly.”

Jack nodded, as did Brock.

“As for you, Edgar,” Master Shol turned to the wizard, “you must let your allies know about the situation. The safest option for them would be to move in with you under the protection of the D-Grade bodyguard. It will protect you from the most important threats until Jack returns, but a large number of other problems will undoubtedly arise, and someone needs to take charge and deal with them. When you unlock the faction’s long-distance communication function, you will be able to contact Jack and plan ahead. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir!” Edgar responded.

“Thank you, Master,” Jack said from his heart, stepping in front of his master.

He had understood some things in the post-breakthrough clarity. Master Shol had obviously withheld some information, mostly that he could have accelerated his breakthrough in return for an inferior Seed, as well as the Dao Fruit’s usefulness outside breakthroughs, which Master Shol had severely outstated. After experiencing the process himself, these realizations came easy.

He could have been angry. Maybe he should; Master Shol’s teachings had been partial, even intentionally skewed.

However, after all was said and done, Jack realized that his master had been right. If he knew he could accelerate his breakthrough, he would have done it, and the results would have been much worse than now. If he knew the Dao Fruit would be effective even earlier on, he would have used it and wasted most of its potential.

He was angry that the decision had been taken from his hands, but at the end of the day, Master Shol had been right.

Moreover, their relationship was one of mutual benefits, as he had made clear multiple times. Master Shol had never pretended to be a saint. He wasn’t made of kindness and selflessness, but he was a pretty damn good man.

In the end, though Jack begrudged his master for some things, he had to admit that he owed him way, way more. Master Shol was the best master he could ask for.

Jack reached out a hand. “I don’t know if this is considered rude in your faction…but on my planet, this is how we express respect. And gratitude.”

Master Shol stared at the hand for a long moment. Then, he grabbed it, spending some of his power to make his hand corporeal and flashing Jack a big smile. “Give them hell, kid,” he said. “I believe in you. And I’m sorry for being unable to help you more.”

“It’s alright, Master.” Jack smiled. “The next time we meet, I might even be stronger than you.”

“Heh. I’d like to see that.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but it’s almost time,” Edgar cut in.

He had long made the sphere opaque so people couldn’t see what was happening, and sound was blocked, but they were keeping track of time. They wouldn’t want to remain isolated after the tournament was over.

“Yes.” Jack let go of his master’s hand, nodding. “Any last words, anyone?”

Master Shol stayed silent.

Edgar stayed silent.

Brock said, “B.”

“What?” Jack looked at the brorilla by his feet.

“B,” Brock repeated. His face was strained from the effort. “B.”

Jack’s eyes went wide. “Brock?” he asked. “Are you…trying to speak?”

“He picked the goddamn worst time to say his first word,” Edgar cursed. “The deadline is over already!”

Jack didn’t reply. His eyes were glued on Brock.

“B— B—” The little brorilla tried to say, furrowing his brows in deep concentration. His throat wasn’t made to speak, but he was flexing his voice muscles. “B— Br— Bro!”

He looked up in pride, flashing a monkey-ish grin.

“Woah!” Jack cried out, throwing his hands in the air. “Brock! You said your first word!”

“Bro!” Brock repeated, then laughed in monkey, full of glee. His voice was rough and his pronunciation terrible, but it was clearly a word! He threw his hands in the air, jumping from side to side. “Bro! Bro!”

“Well done, Brock! I didn’t even know you could speak!” Jack celebrated.

“Guys, please get serious. Everybody’s waiting for us,” Edgar pleaded. Master Shol coughed in his palm.

Jack recovered. He coughed once, too, then said, “Right. I believe we have said everything. I got massively stronger. We have a plan. Brock said his first word. Everything will work out.” He took a deep breath. “Lower the shield, Edgar.”

At his command, the blue dome disappeared, exposing Jack to the pressure of immortals and a billion set of eyes. This time, however, he pressured them. In danger, he smiled. Walking the razor’s edge, he thrived.

Facing impossible odds and the threat of imminent death, this was Jack Rust at his best. The tension sharpened his gaze until it could stab through stone.

The arena went silent as if people could sense that something was different. All four scions that were present narrowed their eyes. The immortals and Vocrich leaned forward in their chairs with interest. Even the C-Grade lioness glanced at Jack, but this time, she didn’t invade his mind.

As if on cue, the head judge landed in front of them the moment the shield went down. Her white feathered wings were like an angel’s, and her blue skin glistened in the morning sun. She had dark hair made in a braid and was dressed in white silken robes.

Jack scanned her.

Djinn, Level 101

Faction: Merchant Union (C-Grade)

He grinned widely. He could finally see her Level. He also glanced at the stands, where Vocrich stood.

Vampire, Level 124

Faction: Hand of God (B-Grade)

Peak of the E-Grade… Yeah, I saw that coming.

“The one hour is up,” the head judge said. “Rufus Emberheart failed to appear. If you have nothing to say, I will announce this battle as your victory.”

She let the silence drag for a long moment, obviously waiting for Jack to resign. He flashed her his brightest smile. His bare chest puffed out, proud and strong.

Eventually, boos came from the crowd, and the head judge was helpless. With a heavy heart, she announced, “Rufus Emberheart failed to show up, forfeiting the fight. As a result…” She hesitated for a moment. “Jack Rust wins the final. He is the winner of Earth-387’s Integration Tournament.”

Her voice was impassionate, and so were the crowd’s cheers. Only Jack’s allies cheered hard. The rest of the people were expectedly half-hearted about it. After all, they came to see a spectacle, and they waited an hour only for nothing to happen.

However, success isn’t measured in claps. Jack had won. He raised a fist into the air, filled with glee.

“There is supposed to be a closing ceremony, but since the second place isn’t here, I will distribute your rewards now,” the head judge announced. She was clearly bending the rules again, but Jack didn’t care. The faster this went, the better for him. “Dorman Whistles, Alexander Petrovic, please come to the stage. Everyone unrelated, please leave.”