Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

“Edgar Allano and the Dao of Magic versus The Sage and the Dao of Divination!”

Jack laughed, turning to the Sage. “I still can’t believe you registered The as your first name.”

“Blame them for insisting.” The Sage laughed back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a duel to attend to.”

Jack nodded. “Good luck to you both. May the best man win.” They nodded back.

Edgar jumped off the stands and rode a blue cloud to the arena stage. The crowd cheered.

Opposite him, the Sage excused himself through the audience and reached the stairs. A few moments later, he appeared in the arena amidst kind laughter. Everyone knew him, by now; he was just like that.

“Are you ready?” Edgar asked him. Jack could see his friend’s resolve in his eyes, the tightening of his grip on the crystal-topped staff. He was handling the pressure well. The Sage, on the other hand, seemed nonplussed. His clothes were as ragged as ever, his teeth remained yellow, but his eyes were deeper than the ocean. As he stood there, under the cheers of thousands of people and the eyes of billions, he acted like this was another day in the park.

“No need, my friend,” the Sage said, laughing. “I resign.”

The audience froze for a moment before hushed whispers and less-hushed shouts erupted. Edgar blinked in surprise. He had been prepared for his toughest match so far.

“What?” he blurted out.

“I know the limits of my power. I cannot defeat you,” the Sage replied, smiling. “In fact, I cannot even fight you. You would resist my charm, and then what? I am just a weak old man; I can’t survive your magic. It’s fine, it’s fine. I just resign.”

The crowd booed a bit as Edgar shot the Sage a suspicious glance. Even Jack was surprised.

In fact, throughout the tournament, nobody had seen the Sage fight. All he did was arrive at the arena and point at his opponent, and they would resign. When asked later, none of them remembered what happened. They described it as an incredibly frustrating experience.

The one time the Sage lost in the first phase of the tournament—against Dorman—he had resigned immediately as well.

“The winner is Edgar Allano,” the head judge announced to a confused round of half-hearted cheers. Edgar reddened a bit as he flew back to his seat, while the Sage climbed up the stairs and again excused himself through the crowd.

Jack was sitting by himself—and Brock, of course—so he couldn’t talk to Edgar, but he could imagine his thoughts.

At least he won, Jack told himself. That’s an extra hundred thousand credits, plus the fame of reaching the top eight. He’ll get his fight in the next round.

He then refocused on the arena.

The next two fights were as impressive as the first ones. Besides the Sage, there were no duds in the finalists.

In one fight, Alexander Petrovic, the leader of Ice Peak, faced Sadaka, the second-in-command of Flame River. One was a hard-faced Russian man wearing a trenchcoat and gloves despite the pleasant weather. The other was a dark-skinned man wearing a red t-shirt and yellow pants in classic Flame River style.

The fight was impressive but short. Flames rose around Sadaka, shaping themselves as serpents. His hair and fingers caught on fire. He unleashed his full might at Alexander, who simply smacked his palms together. His movements were jagged, sharp, with no fluidity in them.

A large wall of ice materialized before Alexander, at least a foot thick. The fire serpents tried to crawl around it, but the temperature was so low they shrunk and gradually disappeared. The audience felt the cold and hastened to put on their jackets.

Alexander then waved a hand and collapsed the wall on Sadaka’s head. Sadaka burned like a torch as he roared and melted his way through the ice, but Alexander was there. A massive ice pick hovered over Sadaka’s head, falling and stopping inches before impaling him.

Sadaka met the Russian’s glacial gaze, gritted his teeth, and resigned. The audience cheered.

The next fight was Vivi versus Dana Fray, the elef scion. She was an elephant-shaped humanoid who used the Dao of Healing. She stood at nine feet tall and was surrounded by vivid green light that carried such power it made those who looked at it uncomfortable.

Vivi conjured two flame rivers and sent them rolling towards the elef. She also summoned a third one, which she folded in the space between them to limit the elef’s visibility. Unfortunately, the elef’s spells weren’t based solely on eyesight. Vivi screamed as she almost doubled over, her skin squirming as it tried to grow beyond its bounds. Doubtlessly, her insides were ravaged, too.

Jack’s eyes took in Vivi’s agonizing form, her tightly gritted teeth and clenched fists. He watched her wide eyes shake with pain and resolve, fighting back against the urge to resign. It was a grotesque, stomach-turning sight that made him wish the tournament’s televised version had some sort of gore filter.

Despite the pain, Vivi held. Her rivers of flame drowned the elef only a moment later, submerging her in blue fire, and a rough bellow left her trunk as her healing powers worked in overdrive to keep her alive. Her skin flailed and regrew, the green aura struggled to keep the flames at bay.

Both women screamed. In the end, though Vivi’s pain had started earlier, it was more manageable. The elef cried out her resignation, focusing all her power on defense as Vivi let the flame rivers dissipate. The djinn healers rushed in to help them both. Jack noticed that the green auras on their hands were fainter than the elef’s. She was undoubtedly a top-notch healer that just wasn’t suitable for one-on-one fighting.

The fight had been short but deeply disturbing, and Jack saw Vivi shiver as she flew back to the stands, then collapsed in her seat. Sadaka and the rest of Flame River showered her with worry and praise, as did Edgar, who was sitting with them.

That said, seven of the eight battles had already been carried out, and only one remained. The audience buzzed as the head judge left them waiting for a moment.

“The final fight for today,” she finally declared. “Gan Salin and the Dao of Insanity versus Li Xiang and the Dao of Martial Arts!”

The crowd cheered. Jack’s eyes narrowed. He was actually wary of old man Li Xiang. Throughout all his fights so far, only Edgar had been able to injure him a bit, and even then, Jack had the feeling that the old man hadn’t gone all-out.

The two fighters stepped on the sands. Li Xiang took in Gan Salin with narrowed eyes. “Disgraceful,” he scolded in a sharp Chinese accent. “Your kind belongs outside. This is our battle. You have no place here.”

“Shut up, old man. I was born here, too. Can’t you see my species?” Gan Salin replied, pointing at himself. He already wore his battle gauntlets that had a blade extending behind each finger like a cross between Wolverine and Scissorhands. He scratched his steel blades together.

Li Xiang took a deep breath, then adopted a battle stance. At that moment, he seemed like a force of nature. The lines of his body hid perfection, and his every muscle was exactly where it needed to be. His stance had no holes. Even Jack would be wary to approach him. The audience grew quiet.

Gan Salin was the exact opposite of wary. He laughed, fell on all fours, and dashed.

“Canine Dash!” he cried out. “Five-Star Grasp!”

Xi Liang’s eyes focused so hard it was visible. A small smile appeared under his long and thin mustache. He rapidly adjusted himself into what resembled the crane stance of kung-fu.

Gan Salin reached him. Attacks fell like rain. Blades slashed and fingers cried. Jack’s eyes widened so hard they were about to pop out, as did everyone’s.

Li Xiang was a grandmaster of martial arts.

His speed was inferior. So were his strength and durability. He was unarmed. His body was old and frail.

Despite all those, he held his ground through sheer technique. His hands moved slower than Gan Salin’s, but they were always at the perfect spot. Every parry flowed into the next one. His feet moved in perfect tandem with the battle, his balance was impeccable, and he shifted his body weight around perfectly.

Gan Salin was attacking frenziedly, his arms nothing but twin blurs, but Li Xiang somehow held him back. It was like the old man was dancing alone or performing a solitary kata, while Gan Salin just happened to attack exactly where Li Xiang was poised to defend. The attacks flowed around the old man.

One fighter was playing whack-a-mole; the other, chess. And chess was holding its ground.

Gan Salin had charged at Li Xiang, but Li Xiang hadn’t taken a single step back. In fact, as the battle raged on, hundreds of strikes exchanged already, he was slowly but steadily taking steps forward. He was sneaking attacks as if his hand just happened to be where Gan Salin’s torso rushed.

Most people hadn’t even noticed these sharp jabs, but Jack had. And, of course, so had Gan Salin.

The canine couldn’t approach further. As much as he itched to dive into his opponent’s guard and take two hits to deliver one, it was impossible. Not only did Li Xiang defend perfectly, but he was also perfectly placed to stop an infiltration at all times. If Gan Salin tried to force his way in at any point, he would just receive a barrage of attacks and have to retreat with nothing to show for it.

Gan Salin was no slouch himself. He had trained his martial arts under veritable masters. Moreover, his fighting style meshed perfectly with the Dao of Insanity, and it was designed to be unpredictable.

How could this old human counter everything so perfectly?

How is this possible!? Gan Salin panicked. He had never felt more helpless in his entire life. He tried to accelerate, to focus even more on offense and ignore defense completely, to mix in double and triple feints with his attacks, but it was meaningless. Every single time he feinted, Li Xiang just saw through it and sneaked in his own attack.

This is impossible!

“AAAAH!” Gan Salin screamed as he attacked even harder. He has to make a mistake! He has to! Foam splattered everywhere from his mouth. His eyes were red like tomatoes, and his body was spasming from the effort.

Li Xiang was simply watching, responding to everything with impossible precision and even setting up his next moves. Gan Salin was trying to be as unpredictable as possible, but Li Xiang knew what he’d do next even before Gan Salin himself!

The strongest counter to insanity was consistency. Gan Salin stumbled. His body was not used to attacking frenziedly for this long with nothing connecting. He was almost cramping. His attacks weakened and slowed down, leaving more gaps for Li Xiang to exploit. More jabs snuck in, some as fists, some as chops, and others like hard finger stabs. No attack was heavy, but they added up.

Gan Salin found his entire body sore and in pain. His limbs weren’t responding properly.

“This is unfair!” he screamed in impotence. “You’re cheating, old man!”

“This is the spirit of the world you want to conquer,” Li Xiang replied calmly, merging his words into his breathing. “Earth is great. Humans are strong. Next time, think twice.”

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off the fight. He was shivering.

The old man’s advance had been slow but unerring, stretched over entire minutes without a single mistake or tiny flaw. He merged multiple martial arts at once, leaping from one stance to the other like they were all parts of the same whole and even inventing new martial arts on the fly like it was trivial. He always had the perfect answer for every situation. It was like playing rock-paper-scissors against someone who showed their hand after seeing yours.

He had no fancy moves, no active skills, no sky-high stats. His title was only the Planetary Frontrunner (100) version. He was just a grandmaster of martial arts.

“I want to fight, old man!” Gan Salin screamed again. “At least let me show off my new moves! I didn’t posture like that for noth—”

Suddenly, Gan Salin’s wrists passed by Li Xiang’s hands at the same time. He shot out and grabbed them both, turning the blades away from him, then used Gan Salin’s momentum to pull both arms to the side, bringing their bodies close. In the same movement, he raised a knee.

“Uh oh,” was all Gan Salin could say before Li Xiang’s knee hit his chin hard, shaking his head and making his eyes fuzzy. He instantly lost consciousness.

Li Xiang didn’t push the attack. He released Gan Salin’s wrists and let him land on his back, then took two quick steps back.

Gan Salin recovered in the next moment.

“Huh?” he said, eyes blinking as they took in the blue, spotless sky through the arena ceiling. “Oh! The fight!”

He jumped up and looked around wildly, only to meet the old man’s calm stare. “You lost,” Li Xiang declared.

“What? I—”

“Gan Salin has been rendered incapable of fighting. Li Xiang wins!” the announcer’s voice cut him off, and the audience cheered as Gan Salin looked up in incomprehension.

Jack smiled wryly. Gan Salin had been knocked out. Even if it was only for a moment, the rules were clear. It wouldn’t even matter if the judges cheated again and let them keep fighting—Li Xiang was clearly the stronger fighter.

Gan Salin realized what had happened and his face soured. “I couldn’t even show off my new moves,” he said, pointing at Li Xiang. “Fuck you, old man. You should have died of old age mid-fight. Why does everyone keep bullying me in this tournament?”

“Show respect to seniors.” Li Xiang responded strictly as Gan Salin stormed away and back to the scions’ section of the arena stands, where the curtain had been restored to its previous position by a djinn craftsman.

“With this, the first day of the finals is over,” the head judge announced, drawing the crowd’s attention. “The remaining finalists are Dorman Whistles, Fesh Wui, Rufus Emberheart, Jack Rust, Edgar Allano, Alexander Petrovic, Vivi Eragorn, and Li Xiang. The next round will be held tomorrow, an hour after dawn. We expect you all here!”

The audience roared in response, some cheering and others shouting various nonsensical things. A merchant called for people to buy corn. Jack ignored the people around him as he stood up.

The remaining fighters were no joke. A few of them even brought him deep apprehension. He would especially hate to fight Rufus Emberheart and Li Xiang. Rufus Emberheart’s strength was so deep it was unfathomable, and as for Li Xiang… Jack wasn’t sure how he stacked up against the old man, but fighting him would be such a humbling experience that he’d rather not have it. It would make his own martial arts seem completely childish in comparison.

Then again, maybe that was exactly what he needed to advance his Fistfighting skill into a Dao Skill, as Master Shol had instructed. Before that, he also had to advance his Parkour and Drill Skills to the third tier. He could feel he was close.

And that meant…

Jack’s eyes narrowed. Training. A ton of it. I can’t fucking lose. And I must find a way to escape my impending doom, too.