Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse
Chapter 219: Mastering One’s Dao

The old man struck down. Jack jumped to the side. The world resisted his movement, seeking to constrain him, but he used his physical strength to escape.

The ground where he used to stand was destroyed. The mace head landed like a real comet, exploding the stone that made up this hall’s floor. The red carpet was torn apart. Stone shards flew through the air. The shockwave pushed into Jack’s ears and took his breath. His eyes widened.

What kind of power is this!?

There was no way he could block that, whether he had four arms or a hundred. Immortals could control the world around them. All the Dao in the hall was under the old man’s influence, helping him while obstructing Jack.

This… This was just unfair! How was he supposed to fight with such a disadvantage!?

The old man didn’t give him time to think. The mace fell again, and Jack had to retreat. Every strike brought disaster. The hall was torn apart. Craters formed on the ground, cracks on the walls. One column collapsed after being broken in half—thankfully, they seemed unnecessary, as the ceiling could magically support itself.

Jack escaped with all his power as the old man chased him, smashing out unstoppable strikes with every swing like it was nothing. Evading was all Jack could do. Staying to fight would mean instant death. The old man chased him like an angel of steel, destroying everything in his path to get to Jack.

As if that wasn’t enough, he was flying! Jack had to run around while the immortal could just glide, attacking from all sorts of angles that Jack wasn’t used to.

What can I even do!? he asked in panic, leaping away from a strike that broke the ground under his feet. He landed on the side of a column and pushed away just in time to avoid the mace that shattered it. He tumbled on the ground, pressed against the throne, jumped on the ceiling, then back down.

The old man was always there, just a step behind. His strength was extreme, but his speed was only on par with Jack’s, letting him just barely escape every time.

“Is running all you can do?” the old man taunted as he gave chase. “The entrance is right there. Escape if you want to live! Give up!”

A fire burned in Jack’s heart. He would not escape. He would not give up. He would defeat this immortal and chase the very peak of power.

But how?

Mid-running, he wrung his brain dry to come up with a solution. He considered all the information he had. There had to be something he could do, some way to combat this domain of steel that the old man had unraveled.

Suddenly, a realization lit up in his brain. As he activated the aura, the old man had said, “Adapt or die!”

What did that mean? How was Jack supposed to adapt?

The mace fell next to his head, interrupting Jack’s thoughts. The shockwave of the attack flung him into the far wall, but he also expelled part of his Dao mid-flight to accelerate himself. After all, he couldn’t fly. If the old man caught up mid-air, it was over. The faster he reached a surface, any surface, the safer he would be.

As Jack expelled his Dao, the domain assimilated it. He saw the process clearly. His purple aura—the Dao of the Fist—could only resist for a few seconds as all the surrounding Dao took on a steely hue and bore down at it. In the end, surrounded by enemies on all sides, that small amount of his Dao was defeated and assimilated.

Fireworks went off in Jack’s brain. In that fraction of a second, he realized what he had to do.

The moment he landed, a purple aura flared around his body. It was nothing compared to the old man’s domain—just a candle before the sun. And yet, it was his candle. It defined an area where the Dao of the Mace couldn’t reach. A pocket of freedom in the old man’s domain.

An inch of purple now surrounded Jack’s skin.

Of course, this wasn’t easy to do. Mortals couldn’t control their Dao outside their bodies, just expel it. In contrast, the old man clearly could. His Dao Domain constantly ground against Jack’s aura, reducing and destroying it as it tried to reach his body. It was like using snow armor to protect himself in a burning oven.

Jack’s response was to expel even more of his Dao, all around himself. It was a crude solution. A good portion of his energy was wasted every second just to keep the domain at bay. He had to constantly expel more and more Dao. His reserves were rapidly dwindling.

But, as crude of a solution this was, it remained a solution. The old man was still strengthened from the domain, but Jack was no longer restrained. It was progress.

All he had to do was win before he ran out of energy.

“Laughable!” the immortal cried out. “You cannot do it!”

“Watch me!” Jack roared in response. He stopped running. Instead, he charged. One good strike of the mace could still end him, but what choice did he have? It was either this or run until he lost.

The old man laughed and met Jack’s charge head-on. He swung. The moment his mace met Jack’s aura, its strength waned slightly, but it remained super-charged. Jack dodged, letting the strike demolish another column behind him. He punched out. A purple meteor flared in the silver air flickering for just a moment. It couldn’t draw in the colors and sounds, but it didn’t need to. All it had to do was explode.

The punch found the old man’s gut. It detonated on his armor, making him gasp as another punch met his chest, sending him backward. Jack followed. He couldn’t afford to delay. This aura he had would last only a few seconds. He had to end this.

Besides, if the old man was flung around, he had no time to fly.

Jack roared as he punched. Four meteors were born on his fists. Four purple stars. The old man pulled up his mace to defend.

Their clashes echoed in the hall. Walls broke. Columns fell. The carpet was torn apart. The throne was shattered. Jack and the knight were two streaks of light, one purple and one silver, chasing each other in the hall at speeds that a normal person couldn’t even follow.

Their every clash ended with someone flung away, and the other always followed. The old man had no intention to draw things out. He wouldn't exploit his Grade advantage. If he did, he wouldn’t deserve to be an immortal.

By now, both opponents were fully submerged in the fight. One clash followed the other in an endless dance. Time stretched out until each second became an infinity. The room, the watchers, the stakes, everything disappeared, and all that remained was a battle to the death.

Jack roared as they clashed again. Two of his fists met the old man’s jaw, throwing his head back and eliciting a groan. The mace met his calf, breaking his leg and tossing him through a column and into a wall. The old man arrived instantly again, ignoring the pain of his broken jaw to strike fast. Jack, whose calf had already regenerated, leapt aside, letting the mace sail an inch from his face to strike back. Two of his fists met the old man’s side. The other two, his chest. He flew diagonally backward, passing through the collapsing column from before and into the ceiling.

The old man’s regeneration was nowhere close to Jack’s. The strikes added up. In the end, it was a contest of endurance. Would Jack’s energy run out first, or would the old man succumb to his injuries?

Jack flashed through the air, reaching the ceiling. His fist drew a purple line through the room as it rose like an upward meteor. The old man spat out blood, roared, and ignored Jack’s fist to smash the mace into his chest.

Jack expected that. He expelled some Dao to move sideways, launching his Meteor Punch away from his hand, letting it sail alone through the air to smash into the old man’s chest, nailing him deeper into the ceiling. Jack himself landed to the old man’s right, then pushed against the ceiling to throw himself at the ground before gravity took over.

The old man did the exact same thing, and suddenly, they were falling side by side. Their trajectories intersected in the very middle of the hall. All hell broke loose.

Jack could sense his energy reserves dwindling. Already, he was running on fumes. There was barely a second before he was exhausted and the old man’s domain snuffed him out like a candle.

The old man, on the other hand, was bloody and injured. Bruises covered his body under the armor, which thankfully wasn’t very effective against blunt weapons, and he sported several internal injuries. There was definitely something broken, too. His face was warped in an expression of permanent pain, his movements far slower than before, and his attacks weaker.

So were Jack’s, but not by much. He had his regeneration to hold the fort.

As they intersected in mid-air, falling sideways into each other, Jack knew this was the moment. There was no more time. He had to end this.

Meteors flared on his fists. A bit of the silver domain was drawn into them, assimilated into the purple. He smashed out. So did the old man, but Jack was ready. He released his Brutalizing Aura at full power. He was pulling out all stops. If he failed now, it would be over, but it didn’t matter, because he wouldn’t fail. He would win.

The old man grimaced as the aura hit him. For a fraction of a second, his attack grew hesitant. Jack used that opening to slap away his mace-holding hand, making the attack miss as he buried two Meteor Punches into the old man’s body. One of them fit perfectly into the open helmet.

The old man was spiked downward, but Jack wouldn’t let him escape this time. He used his fourth hand to grab onto the armor’s edge, pulled along by the power of his own strike. They crossed the room together and smashed hard into the floor, cracking it even further. Jack gasped. His entire body was protesting from lack of energy, but he didn’t back down. He had no time to.

The old man remained conscious. He pushed Jack, flying to stand opposite Jack, roared, and smashed out. Jack used his trump card—Ghost Step. This skill wasn’t a Dao-imbued one, so it wasn’t too useful lately. At Jack’s current level, three or nine feet was nothing.

However, when kept as a hidden ace, it was perfect for exchanges like this.

The old man’s mace sailed through empty air as Jack appeared behind him, smashing a full-power Meteor Punch into the back of his helmet. The old man’s head rocked. Somehow, his neck didn’t break. He didn’t fall unconscious, either. He absorbed the strike and followed the momentum of his previous attack, swinging around himself to attack Jack, who had just struck out and was in no position to dodge. He was forced to meet the strike head-on.

The old man noticed this. Suddenly, his eyes shone silver. The entire Dao Domain retreated instantly, diving into the mace head, which shone brilliantly like a silver moon. An ocean of power pulsed in that mace. This strike clearly contained all the remaining power of the old man, and Jack had no option but to face it.

“FALLING STAR!” the old man shouted, his mustache marred with blood. This was clearly his strongest attack.

However, even though it was his best attacking skill, his actual power had decreased since the start of the fight. He was heavily injured, and he had just extinguished his own domain. The strength he could channel was limited—at best, this strike reached the ones he’d used when he first activated his domain.

Jack felt time slow down. He realized he had no choice. Dodging was not an option, as he was unbalanced. There was only one thing he could do.

Attack.

There was relief in that realization. Glee. His entire being was aligned. His soul was one piece.

Jack readied all four of his punches. Purple flared brightly on all of them, more than ever before. He could sense that this would be the final blow. They were both going all-out. He poured every scrap of energy he could muster into his fists, dividing it equally, birthing four meteors that burned through the air and blazed through the Dao.

Since the domain was gone, these meteors weren’t weakened. Color and sound fell into them like they were black holes. The air screamed as it was ripped apart. Before this meteor, before this punch, nothing could survive.

And Jack had four of them.

All four punches smashed forward at once. His Dao flared like a brilliant purple sun.

In the singular spot between the two opponents, all four punches met the glowing silver mace at the same time. Both Jack and the old man roared in defiance.

The explosion was blinding and deafening. Jack felt his world burn. His bare chest was seared from the heat. He thought he had died.

A moment passed in which he’d lost all his senses.

When his vision recovered, he saw a silver mace flying alone through the air to land against the far wall. He saw the old man before him stare incredulously as his entire hand was missing, disintegrated from the massive explosion. Jack’s hands were absolutely mangled, too, but he was used to it by now. They would recover.

Belatedly, he realized that the floor was black under their feet, and a large black X was seared against the ground, stretching from their location in the middle of the room to each of its corners—it was the outline of the two-pronged explosion. However, the lines were far wider on his opponent’s side of the room. Most of the energy had been pushed that way. Jack had won the exchange.

He raised his eyes to see the old man toppling to the ground. He lay there, limbs spread out and head facing the ceiling, unable to move. Only then did the mace land on the floor, far away.

Jack could barely stay standing. The pain was impossible. So was the exhaustion.

But all those were overshadowed by the realization of one, simple fact: He had won.

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