Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

The homeless-looking man grabbed the chair opposite Jack, giving him a wide, yellow-toothed grin. “Can I sit?” he asked.

Jack’s eyes flickered up, staring at the guy. He didn’t respond right away.

The other man’s smile didn’t falter. “Don’t worry. Despite my appearance, I’m quite a pleasant person. They call me the Sage.”

He extended a hand. Jack raised a brow.

“Appearances matter little here,” he replied, smiling. “Is Sage your name?”

“My name means nothing. The Sage is who I am.”

This person was quite enigmatic. Jack was intrigued. He grabbed the outstretched hand; it was steady and calloused, worn down by years of hardships. “John,” he said.

“A pleasure,” the Sage replied. “So, may I? You might be interested in what I have to say.”

Jack didn’t need to be told thrice. He motioned at the chair. The Sage took a seat with a smile, then extended his hand at Brock.

“Hello, my muscular friend. I’m the Sage.”

Brock had been wary so far. Suddenly, his face became filled with joy, and his mouth formed into an ‘O’. Then, he pretended to be serious, grabbed the Sage’s hand, and nodded in a manly way.

Jack cracked a smile. “Have you been following me?” he asked.

“Not at all. Coincidences are miraculous things.”

“Good morning,” a voice came from above. It was a smiling lycan waitress. “Would you like the menu?”

“Yes, please,” Jack replied, and the waitress left two shiny leaflets on the table.

“Let me know if you have any questions,” she said before taking her leave.

The Sage grabbed the menu and read through it as if forgetting Jack was there. Jack did the same, with Brock spying over his shoulder—though he couldn’t read, there were pictures.

The restaurant offered all sorts of delicacies; meat skewers, stakes, as well as a variety of fish—both earthen and alien ones. There was also a plate that resembled pasta-pie, along with a slew of appetizing appetizers.

“I recommend seafood,” the Sage said. “The pastichio is good too, but seafood is where this place shines.” Pastichio was the pasta-pie thing.

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been around.”

Jack squinted, then dropped his menu. “Very well. Then, you can order for me as well.”

The prices were in the tens at most, and he had thirty thousand credits to spare—twenty from Gan Salin and ten from his recent victory in the arena.

“Excellent choice!” The Sage gave a wide smile, motioning the waitress over. “How hungry are you?”

“Pretty hungry. So is Brock.”

“Alright.”

She arrived. “Yes?”

“We would like one grilled cheese, a greek salad, a plate of fried squid, and fries, please.”

“Very well,” she responded, writing the order down on a white notebook she carried. Watching someone use pen and paper in the Integration City was disorienting. “Is that all?”

“Some white wine too, please. Three cups.”

“Very well. Thank you very much.”

She took their menus and walked away, disappearing in the building beside them.

“You’re fast,” Jack noted.

“I’m a sage,” the other man responded. “I knew what we would order before even sitting down.”

Jack cracked a smile. “Am I that predictable?”

“Yes, but don’t take it the wrong way. Everyone is.”

“Being a sage sounds boring.”

“We have our days.”

Jack laughed. This guy had come out of the blue, but he was turning out to be good company. “What’s your story, man?” he asked, leaning back on his chair. Its two front legs left the ground, but he balanced.

“A simple one,” the Sage responded, leaning back himself. “I was alone and forgotten, rotting between park benches, rehabilitation, and mental institutions. The world was lost for me. I had nowhere to go, no future, no escape from my destiny to die under a bridge. Then, the System came, and everything changed. I found power. I found purpose. I found myself.”

“Mental institutions? So, you are crazy.”

“I thought I was. As it turns out, I just didn’t have the means to process what my mind detected.” He shook his head. “I cannot tell you much more, unfortunately. There are secrets whose mere knowledge could destroy you.”

“Come on. Now you’re just bullshitting.” Jack barked out a laugh.

“Maybe I am,” the Sage said with a small smile. “In any case, I chanced upon the Dao of Divination, and here I am.”

“Can you fight with that, though?”

“In certain ways. But I am not built for single combat. I will make it to the final sixteen participants, but not any further.”

“You’re boasting again.”

“I’m just speaking the truth.”

“Then, how far will I make it?”

“Prophecies come at a cost. If I tell you, I risk changing fate and disrespecting the Dao.”

Jack groaned.

However, he had to admit that he empathized with the Sage’s story. Though he didn’t have it nearly as bad, he’d felt equally trapped before the System came. His future wasn’t a dead-end, but a compulsory, slow, dull ride to death.

In a way, both of them had been equally helpless. Now, they were free.

Jack already felt closer to the Sage.

“Thank you for waiting,” the lycan’s voice came from above them right as a tasty fragrance met Jack’s nostrils. She placed three small empty plates, three cups, and a tin wine jug on the table, along with a square block of orange, fried cheese and half a lemon. She also left them a bowl of salad filled with tomatoes, sliced cucumber, olives, green bell pepper, and red onion, with a wide block of feta cheese placed above them. Finally, there was a small woven basket of baked break peppered with olive oil and oregano.

Jack gave Brock a piece of bread to stop him from tearing into the salad, then took a knife and cut the cheese into small square pieces. The Sage grabbed two big spoons and mixed the salad.

“Mmm,” the Sage said, trying the cheese. “Delicious!”

“Damn.” Jack agreed as the cheese melted on his tongue. Brock made monkey noises of incredible excitement; this was the best food he’d ever tried. Jack had to grab Brock’s head to stop him from tearing into the salad.

“Easy,” he said, laughing. “The food isn’t going anywhere, Brock. Let’s learn to eat like a proper person.”

Brock pouted, but Jack was relentless. Eventually, the little monkey ceded and kept munching on his bread while pouting. Jack filled a plate with salad, cheese, and bread, then gave it Brock, who proceeded to annihilate it.

“Keep a piece of bread,” the Sage advised. “You’ll need it later.”

Brock did not keep a piece of bread.

“These are very tasty,” Jack said in approval, tasting his share of the salad. “Good choices.”

“Of course.”

Jack groaned again. The Sage laughed; a raspy but pleasant sound.

“You should be careful of Gan Salin, by the way,” the Sage said, reaching out to fork a piece of cheese. “The scions came here with enormous quantities of credits. They will destroy the Integration City’s market like Brock here would do to the salad, if you let him.”

Jack pretended to be nonchalant. “Why Gan Salin specifically? It was Rufus Emberheart I antagonized.”

“Yes, but you beat Gan Salin.”

Jack stared. He tensed up. He didn’t drop his fork, but he slowed down, and his stare got heavier.

“You shouldn’t know that,” he said, with a vague hint of threat in his voice.

The Sage was nonplussed. “You don’t need to worry, Jack. I won’t tell anyone; I just happen to be a sage.”

Jack did a double-take. Suddenly, he realized he couldn’t read this man at all. “Carry on,” he said. “You were talking about the scions.”

“Hmm, yes. The scions. Not only are they talented prodigies of the noble families, but they’re also equipped with knowledge and resources that a newly-integrated planet like ours lacks. And, even amongst them, Rufus Emberheart is a monster. You should be careful.”

“I’ll try not to spank him too hard,” Jack said, eliciting a chuckle from the Sage. Then, he leaned in. “The scions claim they are natives. Even the System said so when I scanned them, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the case… What’s up?”

“Workarounds. The noble families had scanned this astral space manually before having the System do it, so they were already aware of this planet’s existence. Then, they secretly moved the top genius of each family here before the Integration, along with wiping all records of them. When the System came, it recognized them as natives.”

“Isn’t that illegal? My guide mentioned something about a Star Pact—a set of laws?”

“Highly illegal.” The Sage agreed. “However, the Star Pact was made between the B-Grade factions of our galaxy, and it is also enforced by them. They allow some leeway for each other as long as it’s done discreetly enough that the rest can claim ignorance.”

Jack grumbled, stabbing a piece of cheese harder than usual. “Fucking cheaters.”

“I echo that statement.”

“But why do they need to pretend? If everyone wants to sneak people into newly-integrated planets, they can just abolish the law that says they can’t, right?”

“Ah, excellent question.”

Jack waited, but nothing more came out of the Sage.

Does he mean that he doesn’t know, or that he doesn’t want to tell me? Or is he simply crazy? Jack wondered. He waited, eating in silence for a moment.

“In any case,” the Sage finally said, “this is a rare phenomenon. The astral space outside the System’s reach is tremendously wide and expensive to comb manually. The Animal Kingdom just got lucky with this one.”

The waitress arrived again, placing a plate of fried squid on their table, along with one of salted fries. “Enjoy your meal,” she told them. Jack and Brock fell on the squid before she even stepped away. It was cut into bite-sized pieces and rings, and the fragrance it emitted was heavenly.

Unlike the cheese and salad, this meal came from E-Grade creatures and was Dao-infused. When Jack bit on the squid, it cracked, releasing an aura that filled his mouth and reached all the way to his chest. His entire body was revitalized, and his Dao Root shivered in joy. The warm taste remained on his tongue even after he’d swallowed.

“This is incredible!” he exclaimed.

“Dao food is delicious. It’s my first time trying it myself,” the Sage replied with a nod. “This is cooked well, too.”

“How do you know? I thought it was your first time.”

“Yes, but I’m a sage.”

The squid practically evaporated from the plate. It was only then that Jack remembered the fries. He tried a few, but while they were tasty themselves, they simply could not match up to Dao-infused food.

“Higher-end places will offer Dao-infused appetizers and salad, too,” the Sage said. “Here, it’s only the main courses. They stay low-cost to be affordable.”

Jack nodded.

Suddenly, a ruckus drew his attention. Their tavern was placed closed to a wide open space by the island’s edge, where two groups of people were currently facing off against each other. One was the Flame River, and the other the Ice Peak; the two major factions of Earth, beside Jack’s Bare Fist Brotherhood.

They were led by a dark-skinned tall woman and a hard-faced, icy man respectively.

These two factions seemed like polar opposites in everything. First came their Daos, of course, but they were also contrasted in terms of attitude and appearances. Each faction reflected their Dao; the Flame River was fiery, while the Ice Peak was cold.

Jack had seen them face off before. When two of their members had fought in the arena, the two factions had exchanged heated words, but the rules against violence had stopped things from escalating.

Now, however, though the rules remained, there were no spectator stands between them. The two groups were standing in the square, staring each other down with the hardness of people who’d fought and killed to survive. At the same time, the two leaders were jousting with words.

Jack couldn’t hear what they were saying—many people were speaking at once—but he could see the tension brewing fast.

“Think they’ll come to blows?” he asked.

“I already know what will happen, but it doesn’t matter much.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna make a bet?”

“What kind of bet?”

“Predict what will happen—with details. If you get it exactly right, you win; otherwise you lose. The loser pays for the food.”

“Sure thing. However, to respect the Dao of Divination, I will write my prediction on a piece of paper and reveal it after everything is over. Is that fine with you?”

“Whatever.”

The Sage smiled. He fished a pen from inside his tattered clothes, along with a very crumbled piece of paper, then quickly scrambled down a few words. Finally, he folded the paper and gave it to Jack, who put it in his pocket.

“About our previous subject,” the Sage said, “most shops in the Integration City tend to remain low-cost. The one who doesn’t is the Hand of God. I believe you’ve heard about their upcoming auction.”

“A bit.”

Jack’s gaze was still mostly focused on the two factions. He reached out with his fork to grab a fry but only met the plate. Looking down, it was completely empty.

He looked to the side. Brock’s cheeks were inflated to their limits, but he shook his head and shrugged as if saying, “no idea where they went, big bro.” Jack couldn’t stop a chuckle. The little monkey had been sneaking his hand underneath Jack’s gaze the whole time.

“The auction is a tremendously important occasion,” the Sage continued. True to his foresight, he’d moved some fries to his plate before Brock’s sneaky assault. “They will offer expensive items in a market that can barely match a fraction of their true value. The more credits you can save up by then, the better.”

“Really?” Jack gave him a side glance. “My guide said it’s too early to start saving up.”

“Your guide wasn’t lying. In most other cases, that would be the case, indeed. However, they simply don’t know the truth, as the auction contents aren’t public. The Hand of God will be very generous in this particular auction.” His face suddenly got serious. He leaned in. “I will tell you this, Jack, and heed my words. You must gather two million credits by the time of the auction.”

“What!?” Jack exclaimed. “Two million? That’s too much! Every victory in the arena gives me ten thousand, so I’d need two hundred of them! No way the tournament will last that long.”

“There are other ways to make money.” The Sage shook his head. “Bet. Trade. Borrow. Do everything in your power. It is extremely important that you gather two million by the time of the auction. That will be the tipping point for your fate and our entire planet’s.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Our entire planet? Nah, dude. You’re just messing with me.”

“Am I? I told you. Prophecies come at a cost, and this one…” He chuckled. “It’s almost enough to bankrupt me. The decision is yours, of course, but remember my words well.”

“Sure,” Jack responded. He leaned towards believing this man was a sage—he did know many things—but two million… That was a mind-boggling amount. A few moments ago, Jack considered himself rich with thirty thousand.

“Why would the auction be generous?” he asked curiously. “If what you say is true, they’re losing money.”

“There are various organizations in the galaxy, both big and small, and the higher-end ones don’t care about credits. They have other directives. The Hand of God is trying to cultivate the galaxy’s first A-Grade cultivator, so they’re willing to invest in newly-integrated planets and rising geniuses. The Black Hole Church wants to spread knowledge of the Old Ones and poach the galaxy’s greatest geniuses for their own. Interestingly, those two organizations are at war. Funny, right?”

Jack had gotten too much information at once. “What?” was all he could get out. Before he could say anything further, the ruckus from the nearby square intensified. A dark-skinned man of the Flame River pushed a woman of the Ice Peak. A nearby man drew a white knife from his sleeve and plunged it into the dark-skinned man’s chest.

Everyone’s eyes widened. Shouts filled the square. Flames and ice rushed at each other from a close distance.

Three large figures fell on the attacks out of nowhere, taking them head-on and extinguishing them. Five more appeared around the two groups, surrounding both. A final figure fell from the sky and landed right next to the knife-wielder. Before he could react, a set of large jaws bit around his head and crushed it, killing him on the spot.

Everyone froze—and not because of ice. Even Jack was lost for words.

The guards of Integration City had appeared; and they were massive, metallic dogs.