Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse
Chapter 350: C-Grade!

As the flowers bloomed, a tremendous power reached into Jack’s soul, completely disregarding any and all defenses, and whisked him away.

Jack found himself in a space he’d only seen once before. He was surrounded by nothingness. A large fist floated in the distance—it was impossible to estimate how far away or how large it was. The moment he saw this fist, Jack felt his feet go cold, his mind stagger, his Dao escaping his control.

This was the Dao of the Fist itself.

The first time Jack had arrived here was when he first comprehended the Dao Root of the Fist, back in the F-Grade. He hadn’t understood the significance of what he faced. Now, he did. This was a foundational force of the universe, a power above any cultivator. He was face-to-face with an aspect of the Dao, the beginning and end of everything.

The world had noticed his breakthrough. It had seen him finalize his own Dao and start expanding. However, the Fist could not be tamed so simply. He had already earned the right to use it, but if he wanted to build on it and manifest it into fruits, he needed to pass much stricter tests.

The Fist looked inside Jack. He didn’t have a say. The Dao itself rampaged through his body and mind, scouting everything. His very self was laid bare.

Together with the Dao, he watched himself grow.

He saw little Jack, barely a few years old, pick up his suitcase and hug a smiling professor. He saw a sturdy-looking man tussle his hair. He saw himself growing through school, into university, into his life as a researcher.

But the Dao of the Fist did not care about those. It skipped everything to arrive at the Integration, then paid closer attention. Jack watched.

He saw himself using his fists to kill that first goblin. He was shouting and crying back then. He killed more goblins, tempering himself into a warrior. The bears fell, the brorillas were defeated. Jack entered the Ice Pond and comprehended the Dao Root of the Fist, that first block on which he built everything.

He saw his entire journey. He defeated the twin black wolves and met Brock. He killed a person for the first time—Hugo, the man who had kidnapped his mother under the orders of a local warlord. He freed his town, Valville, then went to the Integration Tournament.

When the Dao saw him using flip-flops and the so-called Dao of Spanking, Jack was embarrassed. He saw himself defeating numerous opponents and even the scions. He advanced as quickly as he could, breaking into the E-Grade and decisively killing Rufus Emberheart after a bloody battle.

His resolve solidified: he would save Earth or die trying.

He escaped to the wider constellation, boarded the Trampling Ram and escaped the Hounds, then entered Trial Planet. He passed ring after ring, overcoming all sorts of difficulties to surpass his limits. His strength grew rapidly. He reached the third ring and earned the Life Drop’s approval.

The Dao paused here, as if to consider this scene more deeply, then carried on.

He gradually outpaced everyone, outsmarted the Lords, earned the top treasures, and battled the Final Guardian, becoming the first person in his galaxy to conquer the entire Trial Planet. He broke through to the D-Grade, surviving the tests of the Dao and the divine tribulation that Axelor, an Old God, had smote him with due to the existence of the Life Drop.

Jack then traveled to the Exploding Sun, trained, and entered Hell where he went on a long killing spree. He kept rising meteorically. He dared to make vastly stronger enemies than himself and never gave up, even when his limbs were broken and his teeth were shattered. He challenged the entire Animal Kingdom and won, shocking the galaxy—then rushed back to Earth and saved his planet from the C-Grade planetary overseer.

He had children and watched them grow a bit.

Finally, he came to the Cathedral, where he discovered body tempering, securing his place as a universal genius and finally attempting to reach the C-Grade. His life’s story ended here for now—and the Dao fell silent.

Jack realized that the Fist was not judging his Dao. It was judging him. Everything he had ever done, the person he was in conjunction with his Dao. He felt naked. There was no way to cheat. He would either be worthy, or he wouldn’t be.

However, in his heart, Jack knew the result with absolute certainty. As he watched his own life go by, pride had blossomed in his chest. Fulfillment. Throughout his many adventures, maybe he did not agree with every decision he had ever made, but he was never disappointed with himself. He remained true, kind, and just.

Jack finally realized he was proud of the man he had become. Knowing that his life was meaningful and fulfilling, he felt such warmth that he even forgot about the ongoing breakthrough, shedding a single tear of happiness.

Even if he failed now, he had already succeeded—he would always stand with his head raised high.

The Dao had seen enough. The fist in the distance approached rapidly—or maybe it was Jack that was moving. He fell under tremendous pressure, like a planet was heading for his face, as the fist grew larger and larger in his sight. Suddenly, it was larger than existence, larger than the world. For a single moment, Jack became aware of the universe’s vastness, and he almost crumbled in insanity.

Then, his soul sank into the Fist, and he was standing on a grass field.

This was not his soul world. He couldn’t see the Dao Tree or the colorful void. All that existed was him, standing alone in an endless prairie.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Show me,” the universe whispered, speaking deep inside his soul. “Show me who you are.”

Jack understood. He raised his head and clenched his fist, losing everything else. This was the realest version of Jack, the most fundamental part of himself. The Fist blossomed around him, a halo of radiance, and tiny stars appeared everywhere he looked. The world was dyed purple. He became a meteor and crashed down, shattering the grass field.

Or—he tried.

A second fist smashed into his, breaking his hand and forcing him back. Another Jack stood before him. This was not Copy Jack—it was a version of himself formed by the Dao of the Fist, an anvil on which to prove himself. The second Jack was expressionless, but his Fist was so pure it was blinding. This was the absolute Fist, without Dao Roots or emotions.

Jack understood. He followed the Fist, but he was not the Fist. Then, who was he? What made him different?

What made him Jack Rust?

Jack clenched his own two fists and roared out. He sank completely into battle. Fist met fist, but he was pushed back every time. His version of the Dao was weaker, and of course it was—how could he match the Fist itself?

Yet, after every exchange, his body healed completely. The second Jack never pursued him. It simply stood there, waiting for him to prove something.

Jack didn’t know how many times he was defeated. He didn’t know how long they fought for. It felt like days. Again and again, he charged, only to be sent flying back.

How could his own Dao surpass the Fist?

The question faced him unendingly. He could not leave this place until he figured it out or gave up. But he would not give up.

He was Jack Rust.

***

In the outside world, days passed. Weeks. A month, then a second. Jack’s cabin door remained firmly shut, obstructing any perception skill. Nobody knew what was going on.

The small bro army spent their days on the nearby fields, waiting for news. Dorman grew more anxious with every passing day. Breakthroughs was not harmless—if one was not careful, they could die. Maybe Jack was dead already, his corpse lying in the cabin, and they just couldn’t see it.

Only Brock did not have the slightest fear, spending his days merrily cultivating and conversing with the newly formed bro army.

***

Jack faced the Fist again and again. It was similar to him in every way, except its Dao was purer. Naturally, he lost every time.

His mind was in a trance. In this state, he completely lost track of time, completely forgot everything that wasn’t related to the Dao. Unknowingly, his entire state of being was nourished during these battles. His mind and body grew fiercer, his connection to the Dao grew much more intimate. It was like training with Copy Jack, but much more intense.

However, as he got stronger, the Fist Jack advanced at exactly the same rate.

How do I win? Jack kept asking himself, charging again and again. How? How do I use the Fist to defeat the Fist?

He wasn’t an idiot. A hundred ideas had passed through his mind, but everything he tried failed. He could make no progress. Nothing worked.

Finally, the Fist grew impatient. The sky over this field began to crumble. Strips of blue tumbled to the ground, revealing an endless darkness. Holes appeared in the grass, and the air lost its luster. The second Jack, the one formed of the Fist, grew older and older, slowly resembling a wrinkled, white-haired man. Yet, its strength never diminished. Jack was equally unable to win.

But he had to find a way. He knew that, if this world crumbled before he succeeded, he would have failed the breakthrough. His path of cultivation would be cut short.

What makes me different? he asked with rising panic. What is my Dao? Is it not the Fist? Where is my mistake?

Sometimes, the simplest things can be the hardest to see. As the world around him was reduced to nothing, and as the endless grass field turned into a tiny island of green in a sea of darkness, in one of infinite exchanges, Jack suddenly saw the truth.

Ah.

It was like a veil had been lifted. His world turned crystal-clear, and his entire being was aligned. After he was sent flying back, he did not charge immediately—he smiled from the bottom of his heart. And, for the first time, the expressionless Fist Jack smiled back.

“Come,” he said, pulling back his fist. “Show me.”

Jack laughed. “Face me!” he roared, then charged once again. His own fist reared back, then shot out like a purple meteor. It was stunning in the darkness. Fist Jack’s punch also shot out, a pure fist as one with its surroundings.

Nothing had changed from all the previous exchanges. But it didn’t matter. Nothing had to change. Jack finally realized the truth.

He didn’t have to defeat Fist Jack. He couldn’t. All he had to do was embrace his own Dao and follow it to the end. This was not a battle.

His fist stopped an inch before collision. All its energy blew past and dissipated. The other Jack’s punch also stopped, the two fists aimed at each other an inch apart, one purple and the other white.

Jack smiled brightly. His fist moved slowly, tapping against the other in a fist-bump.

“I am me,” he said. “I don’t cultivate the Fist. I cultivate my Fist.”

His Dao erupted, not in an attack, but in a display of its identity. It bared itself, revealing its strengths and weaknesses, the things that made Jack human.

The other Jack stared deep into his eyes—and nodded.

The final patch of grass dissipated. Jack fell into the void, one man and his fist, forever.

In Jack’s soul world, the Dao Blooming was over. The flowers were finished forming. Suddenly, one of them grew, and grew, and grew, transforming from a flower into a plump, purple fruit shaped as a fist that hung proudly from the Dao Tree’s branches.

The moment this fruit appeared, the entire soul world shook. The real world followed. The Dao cried out in joy and shone with a million colors, heralding the arrival of a new C-Grade.

And Jack escaped the void, his eyes sparking purple thunder, his body hiding the strength of a titan. A strong wind blew around him, disintegrating the empty Dao stones around him and slamming open the cabin’s windows.

For the first time in a while, a blue screen appeared of its own volition.

Congratulations! D-Grade → C-Grade

Class Upgrade available. Please choose your new Class:

Seeing it, he couldn’t contain a wild grin. The void sang about a new master of the Fist. The universe celebrated, the stars shone brighter.

A new day had come—and Jack Rust, the C-Grade cultivator, was here for it.