Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse
Chapter 275: Opportunity Never Ceases

Brock stood with his arms crossed atop a small hill. Below him, a hundred people were arrayed in lines, split into two groups of fifty. Dog Bro and Girl Bro each stood at the forefront of their armies, both shaking with excitement.

Brock looked over everything coldly. “Begin!” he shouted, and with a loud roar, the two teams of E-Grade cultivators crashed into each other. Magic and projectiles went flying, while the sound of Physical cultivators clashing overshadowed everything but the explosions.

Dog Bro and Girl Bro were at the center of the conflict, circling each other. Before long, illusions and arrows were flying, the two creating a wide area around them where nobody dared trespass.

Brock itched to fight as well, but he kept himself focused. He analyzed the movements of all his bros, looking for weaknesses he could point out later. In the process, he tried to understand them more deeply, see into their individual souls so he could guide them properly as their big bro.

In the process of his training, he’d realized that levels were easy to come by as long as he remained ahead of the power curve, which he certainly was. He was the strongest person around.

The difficult part was the Big Thoughts. Even now, certain thoughts eluded him, which frustrated him to no end. How was he, Brock the Big Bro, unable to comprehend some words inside his head?

Thankfully, he knew the trick. Where words and thoughts were not enough, he had to use actions. That’s why he recruited the people of Broville—as the nearby town had been recently renamed—to fight before him, helping him help them get stronger. By exercising the qualities of a bro, and by helping his little bros exercise those qualities as well, his comprehension was becoming more stable—and, as the Bro Code often mentioned, a strong foundation was necessary to plant a strong bananarm tree.

Brock would build the strongest foundation possible. Both for his little bros, himself, and his own big bro, who was undoubtedly training as hard as he possibly could right now while Brock was forced to remain in relative safety.

Father had once abandoned him because of his weakness. He would never give his big bro a reason to do the same. Never. Brock would become strong, because strength and courage were the only ways to lead a happy life.

“Enough!” he roared, bringing both little armies to an instant stand-still. Dog Bro and Girl Bro were at a deadlock, one’s claws intertwined with the other’s bow, but they obeyed their big bro’s command and stopped fighting. They would get another chance soon, anyway.

As the hundred people who had just been fighting flocked to Brock to hear his advice, the next hundred prepared themselves. Dog Bro and Girl Bro rushed to the fronts of each army—due to bro seniority, they could fight as many times as they wanted to. And those would be a lot.

Because after these hundred people would come another hundred, and then another. The lines of armies reached all the way from the base of Brock’s hill to the gates of Broville.

Brock couldn’t count that high…but there were a lot of little bros here. It made him proud.

Hopefully, it would satisfy his big bro as well.

***

When Eva Solvig cultivated, the surroundings in a hundred-mile radius were spontaneously purified. Dirt and other impurities disappeared from rivers, the air turned clean, and the seas became crystal-clear.

Some insects and small animals died and disappeared, too.

Perhaps her cultivation was the reason why her starship was spotlessly clean. Or maybe it was her crew, the least of which was at the D-Grade. She used to have an entire fleet, too, but she’d already sent it back. It wouldn’t be needed for this mission.

Suddenly, someone knocked on her door. The holy aura permeating the starship and the surrounding space vanished, replaced by the mundane and crooked. Eva’s eyes opened slowly, revealing the last hints of a vanishing world of purity.

“Enter,” she said.

A man entered the room, respectful without being too subservient. He was Erdran Vostil, her strongest follower. Already at the peak C-Grade within a millennium of life, he was very promising. He’d followed her for five hundred of those thousand years.

“Commander,” he said, bowing lightly. “We still have no news of Jack Rust. His trail vanishes at the Eternal Gate. We believe that he and the Exploding Sun’s second deacon snuck out through their own space-warping starship.”

“Have you carefully scanned the planet? He could be hiding somewhere in there, right under our noses.”

“We have, commander.”

“And did you check the teleportation records? Perhaps they left disguised under someone else’s guarantee.”

“We checked, commander. Besides their arrival, where Jack Rust was disguised, there were no other records of disguises being used—and, after inspecting the security myself, I do not believe it would have gone unnoticed. The Animal Kingdom can be meticulous when it wants to.”

“Hmm. What if they used wards to hide inside some merchant’s cargo? There are many of them.”

She gazed out of the window, at the gigantic brown orb that floated a few hundred miles away—the planet called Eternal Gate.

“While that is possible, commander, we find the use of their own starship more plausible,” her follower replied. His seniority and strength gave him the standing to converse with Eva. “Only trustworthy merchants go through this planet.”

“When you’ve lived for as long as I have, Erdran, you learn that trust is an ephemeral notion.” Her lips curved into a grin. “Do you have a list of everyone present on the planet within a week of Jack Rust’s arrival?”

“I do.”

“Recruit some local agents to go through it extensively. Find anyone connected to Jack Rust or Shol Pesna, or anyone with even the slightest reason to act against the Animal Kingdom. Interrogate them, starting from most to least suspicious, and we may find the answer we seek. After all, if they intended to just disappear in space, why do it here, of all places?”

Her follower bowed. “As you wish, commander.”

“Oh, don’t give me that tone. I know it’s a lot of work, but that’s precisely why you exist. Dismissed.”

Still bowing, Erdran walked out of the room, letting Eva Solvig return to her meditation. Since she would be stuck here for a while, she might as well use the time.

***

While Jack was fighting for his life and Brock was doing his best to grow stronger, on a very distant planet, a man was sitting in his office and quietly wallowed in despair.

Edgar wanted to help, too. But he couldn’t. Not as a mage of awe. Not as a cripple.

He stood up to pace around, noticing his messy desk, his dirty floor. Once upon a time, cleaning them would take but a thought, but not anymore. Now, it would take work, and he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Why am I this useless? he thought, itching from his own unkempt beard. I am a waste of my Titles.

A coward.

He looked down. One of his legs stepped on a sheet of paper lying on the floor, inscribed with runes and sigils. The other almost stepped through the floor before he stopped it.

A coward for many reasons, Edgar thought, smiling bitterly at the sight of his own leg; a reminder of everything he’d lost. Not only can I not fight, but when I lost a duel to the death, I did not die… I couldn’t even do that properly.

Starry orange dust made up his right leg. Alexander had cleaved it off during their duel, making blood and flesh rain down on the Forest of the Strong.

By all accounts, Edgar should have won that duel. His opponent had just broken through, not yet stabilized. Yet, his Dao wasn’t as suited for battle as Alexander’s, and neither was his mind. Additionally, he hadn’t had time to grow familiar with his new powers, and his fighting style required careful planning and preparation.

He’d lost decisively.

With the whole world watching, Alexander took Edgar’s leg and honor. Right as he was about to strike the killing blow, the wizard’s falling body reached the top of the treeline, technically entering the forest. Sparman shot up like a missile, protecting Edgar and saving him from certain death. Alexander flew away laughing.

It hadn’t been their proudest moment. Harambe chided Sparman and suggested that Edgar should end himself, but he lacked the courage. He was not a warrior; a warrior’s pride was wasted on him. Shamefully, he lived on.

And the entire world called him a coward. Even he said that word to the mirror many times. That was his life now. He had to get used to it.

I hate myself, he thought, raising his gaze from the leg he’d lost. I hate my Dao.

And in return, his Dao hated him. It was broken. An alien heap that still existed inside him but barely responded. Once, he had demolished an entire section of the Ice Peak palace. Now, he couldn’t even summon the wind to clean his room.

Everyone is dying around me, he repeated for what felt like the millionth time. Everyone is fighting for freedom. And what am I doing? I sit in this room and cry over a broken path.

Maybe I am the broken one. And rightfully so.

He made it to the window and opened it, the clean breeze reminding him that his office harbored a persistent odor. He ought to let the cleaners in, but even the thought of seeing another person scared him. He hadn’t opened the door in a week.

The professor will be worried, he reminded himself, then shook his head. The professor was a purpose-oriented individual, and she had more important things to worry about than the useless fool living in her attic.

Once useless, always useless, he thought, feeling a new wave of bitterness wash over him. Perhaps mom and dad were right to ignore me. I did not deserve their attention. Even when I was given power, all I achieved was to turn it pacifistic amidst a war I have every responsibility to assist in. Everyone believed in me, and yet… I only exist to disappoint.

There were times, like now, when Edgar doubted even his own Dao. It was the path of his heart—but what use was a heart when all your friends were dead?

What I wouldn’t give to change my path, he thought, tightening his lips. To help out, even if it meant severing my own heart… But I know it’s impossible.

“Is it, really?”

The voice came abruptly. So abruptly that Edgar jumped and screamed, sticking his back to the wall next to the window.

His door sure as hell hadn’t opened, but someone stood before it, at the very entrance of the room. It was not a human—it was a humanoid creature with gray skin, bat wings, red horns, spikes on its spine, and long, sharp ears. Its hands ended in short, sharp claws. “Who are you?” Edgar shouted before thinking to inspect the creature.

Echidna Devil, Level ??? (D-Grade)

A creature manifested from an extremity of the Dao of Law. It is compelled to always keep its word, but it also gains extreme power against anyone who breaks their word to it. Therefore, it enjoys luring cultivators into craftily-worded contracts and deals that end up with it having the upper hand.

“You’re an immortal!?” Edgar shouted again, pointing a shaky finger at the devil. “That’s— You shouldn’t be here. The Star Pact forbids it.”

“The Star Pact is written on my left ass cheek,” the devil replied in a raspy, oddly cheerful voice. “More importantly, you should stop shouting. If I hadn’t isolated this room already, people would be rushing over.”

“Isolated this room? How did you do that?”

“That’s the first thing you ask, isn’t it?” The devil laughed. “I swear, you wizards are all the same.”

Edgar shriveled up on the wall, his heart still swelling with fear. This was a D-Grade creature. It could end him at a thought. “Who are you?” he asked in a trembling voice.

“Finally, you got the right question!” the devil exclaimed, clapping its clawed hands. “Though the real question here is… Who are you?”

“I’m Edgar. Edgar Allano.”

“No, you stupid boy,” the devil replied, laughing again, “who really are you? Are you a coward who can only tremble in an office stinking of sweat while his friends and family are dying? Or, perhaps, are you someone who would sacrifice a lot of things to help?”

Edgar’s mind was finally coming up to speed. Using his high Intelligence, he quickly connected the dots. “You want to offer me a contract,” he said.

“I prefer to call it an opportunity,” the devil corrected him, summoning a parchment between his fingers. It was long and red-tinted—and full of tiny letters. “What do you think?” he asked with a conspiratorial grin. “Are you interested?”

Edgar gulped.