Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

Jack reached the arena in a haze. His mind was filled with dark thoughts, and he was torn.

Images of the professor’s house on fire sprang uninvited. He saw Valville razed to the ground, five dark forms darting through the streets and massacring anyone on sight. He saw Harambe and the brorillas valiantly stepping up to protect themselves, only to get easily butchered. He saw the light leaving their wide open eyes as their blood stained the ground.

There has to be a way. He boiled inwardly. There has to be a way! Why do they have to be so cruel?

It made no sense. Why would they slaughter hundreds of people over a small disagreement? Were they animals!?

He chuckled darkly. They were. It didn’t matter. He refused to escape by himself while leaving everyone else to die. He would find a way or die trying. Worst case, he would just beg for forgiveness and damned be the Dao—or simply fight to the death.

Before he knew it, Jack found a random seat and sat down. He was surrounded by strangers who gave him a wide berth. Belatedly, he realized Brock was still on his shoulder, and he looked over with sadness. “I’m sorry, little bro…” he said, “though this is partially your fault.

Brock replied in monkey, but Jack didn’t understand. He wished Brock could talk. At least he seemed appropriately sad.

As Jack was lost in thought, he didn’t notice the crowd calming down. It was only when the head judge’s voice pierced the arena that he raised his cloudy gaze.

“People of Earth-387 and honored arena spectators, the final round of the tournament is starting!” she declared excitedly, riling up the crowd. Jack only heard mockery and fakeness in her voice. “Starting today, the sixteen finalists will fight each other in elimination matches. There will be four rounds until the winner is decided. Four days of the best fighting this newly-Integrated planet has to offer.”

The people cheered again. Jack chuckled grimly. Four days until the real war starts.

“Without further ado, I will now announce the first round’s pairings as produced by our randomizer. The first fight is Dorman Whistles and the Dao of Speed versus Brother Tao and the Dao of the Staff!”

The crowd cheered as the two fighters jumped into the arena.

“Amithaba, brother Dorman,” Brother Tao said, cupping his hands before his chest. Brother wasn’t really his first name, but the officials insisted on everyone having a first and second name. “This will be my final day in the tournament, but I am thankful to have reached this far. I have made my monastery proud. Let us make this a fight to remember.”

“If you’re strong enough, sure,” Dorman said dismissively, settling into a fighting stance. His daggers were poised as mandibles, and he seemed ready to sprint in any direction.

Brother Tao didn’t take Dorman’s disrespect to heart. He only smiled; he knew that Dorman only respected the strong.

“Very well. Let’s fight!”

The crowd cheered. He removed his weapon from his back and held it in both hands, clearly straining a bit. This was the black metal staff he’d bought in the auction, the one that weighed a thousand pounds. “I have to warn you, brother Dorman,” he shouted. “My staff is very heavy. If you let it hit you, you might die on the spot!”

“There is no way you’ll hit me,” Dorman replied with a smirk. Then, he charged out.

Jack’s eyes widened. This wasn’t the movement Dorman had used in their fights. He sailed over the sand at times, then jagged randomly in any direction. He was fast for a bit, then slow, then fast again, like a worm stretching and compacting as it crawled. This must have been a skill taught by his master, the D-Grade worm.

Brother Tao spun his staff above his head, creating gusts that rose the nearby sand into a sandstorm that obstructed everyone’s vision. Dorman dived right in. The staff fell like a mountain, but he dodged it easily as he delivered cut upon cut on brother Tao’s body.

Surprisingly, brother Tao could wield the staff at decent speed despite its weight. He used its momentum to flow from one stance to the next, striking with both ends in a single uninterrupted movement. Unfortunately, this also made him predictable, and Dorman dodged the strikes with great ease.

In the blink of an eye, Brother Tao was bleeding from a dozen different shallow wounds. He had hard skin, as well as a regeneration skill, but Dorman was faster.

He couldn’t deliver deep wounds, as that would require more time and might get him struck by the staff, but he didn’t need to. He would inflict death by a thousand cuts.

It only took a few seconds for Brother Tao’s regeneration to be overwhelmed. It reminded Jack of when he fought the Earth Bears, except Dorman’s strikes were much more deadly. At least he avoided his opponent’s vitals—probably on purpose.

“Falling mountaintop!” Brother Tao shouted suddenly. His staff took on a dark red hue as it collapsed downward at great speed. Dorman jumped out of the way, reaching ten feet back before the staff even hit the ground, and that was a good thing because the strike was heavy.

The entire arena shook from the impact. Sand flew everywhere, the sound was deafening, and a large crack was formed on the hard rock underneath the sand.

Brother Tao slowly raised his staff and looked at Dorman, who waited. He cupped his hands. “Thank you for the pointers, brother Dorman. This monk resigns.”

Dorman smiled and nodded. “That final strike was dangerous,” was all he said.

The crowd cheered wildly. Even Jack found his mood lifted a bit at the sight of this battle. Both fighters retreated, and the head judge, who had been hovering over the arena the entire time, announced the next pairing. “Fesh Wui and the Dao of Wind versus Vanderdecken and the Dao of Metal!”

The crowd cheered as both fighters took the stage. Vanderdecken raised his electric guitar and shouted, “Alright!” The crowd cheered even harder. He stuck out his tongue and headbanged, playing a couple of grating notes on his guitar.

He was the crowd favorite for a reason.

Opposite him, the eagler landed gracefully on the sand. His humanoid body was covered in dark brown feathers while his head was white, and his beak shone a radiant yellow, as did his eyes. Sharp talons adorned his feet, and unlike eagles, he had a pair of arms under his wings. There was something regal about him, though it was lacking compared to Rufus’s majesty.

Fesh Wui spread his wings to a full ten feet. “I am coming,” he said, then took to the air. He was the only tournament participant who could fly.

“You are strong, but I fight for the DEVIL!” Vanderdecken shouted, playing a raging solo on his electric guitar. Though it wasn’t plugged in anywhere, the notes jumped out physically, forming jagged black shapes that flew into the air to hunt down the eagle.

Vanderdecken’s fingers danced on the strings as more and more notes jumped out, and for a moment, he sounded like multiple musicians playing at once. “Six centuries ago…” he started singing. Jack couldn’t stop a smirk from forming; he knew the song.

The eagler halted in mid-air and spread his wings. A strong gust blew out, distorting the notes and shattering them on impact, but Vanderdecken created more.

“...Gate One!” he shouted, powering up as he went. Fesh Wui wouldn’t let him. He dived down from the skies, talons extended to strike.

Suddenly, Vanderdecken’s singing accelerated. His fingers blurred on the guitar, and the lyrics flowed out of his mouth faster than seemed possible. It was like someone put him on fast-forward.

“...Fight! Fight!” he reached quickly, spitting out half the song in a second. His guitar pulsed with green light, becoming a blur as a torrent of notes flew out. Fesh Wui folded his wings and turned to dodge them, flying around for another strike as a black gate appeared above Vanderdecken’s head. It was transparent and barely visible but clearly there. It opened a tiny bit, letting darkness flow out.

With his current strength, that was the most he could open it, but it would hopefully be enough.

“AND DANCE WITH THE DEVIL!” Vanderdecken peaked his solo with a crescendo and a scream as the darkness formed into notes that flew after Fesh Wui, faster and stronger than all the rest. They chased him through the skies as Vanderdecken embarked on an epic guitar solo, supporting the high-power notes that crossed the air.

The crowd went crazy.

Fesh Wui reached so high that the head judge had to rush out of the way, then turned and cawed at the arena below and the rapidly ascending notes. He flapped his wings thrice in rapid succession, forming strong gales that impacted the notes and weakened them. Moreover, the gales circled back to him, growing stronger with each flap of his wings until they became a visible force that descended like the apocalypse.

They reached the jagged black notes and broke them apart, twisting Vanderdecken’s song into a discordant melody that made everyone plug their ears. Vanderdecken tried to play faster and recover, but Fesh Wui dived through the gap and reached him in an instant. His claws raked a deep gash across Vanderdecken’s chest and broke his guitar in two as he was tossed back with a cry of agony.

“Resign,” Fesh Wui said as he hovered over the broken guitar. The audience booed so abruptly and intensely that even Jack was impacted, and the eagler looked around in surprise.

“Why are you booing me?” he shouted. “It wasn’t even nice music!”

“My guitar!” Vanderdecken cried out, ignoring the deep wound in his chest. He waved his hands. “Get off it, get off it. Shoo, shoo!”

“You dare treat me like a pest?” Fesh Wui’s eyes narrowed.

“Resign!” Shouts rose from the audience, first one person and then a hundred. “Resign! Resign!”

Vanderdecken looked around as if lost, then his eyes flashed. “Right. I resign! Now get off my guitar, you beast!”

Fesh Wui snorted as he flew away, retreating back behind the curtain that hid the scions from the rest of the spectators, and Vanderdecken rushed to hug his guitar even as djinn healers showered him in green energy. Unfortunately, they could only fix him, not his instrument.

“How could he? How could he?” he shouted at the sky. “I swear revenge!”

“Yeah!” The crowd cheered again, wholly swept in Vanderdecken’s tragedy. So what if half of them were E-Grade alien merchants and the other half were Earth’s top dogs? A good show was a good show!

Man, this guy will become earth’s greatest superstar from now on, Jack thought, remembering that the tournament was televised across the planet. Unless the scions kill him, of course. He grimaced, his fists tightening. The nearby people glanced at him warily as a hint of his Dao aura escaped his body.

“The next fight!” the head judge announced when Vanderdecken left the stage and the crowd calmed down a bit. “Elena Richter and the Dao of Ice versus Rufus Emberheart and the Dao of Supremacy!”

Jack’s eyes snapped to focus.

The leonine landed on the stage, gazing at the woman opposite him with apathy. She was a member of Ice Peak, one of his underlings. Jack hadn’t seen her fight, but he knew she was an ice mage.

“I resign,” she said immediately. The crowd showered her with booing, but she didn’t even look their way. Rufus nodded slightly and jumped back to his section of the arena. So did Elena.

Jack was disappointed. That was so anticlimactic.

The head judge announced the next fight: “Shard Presht and the Dao of Momentum versus Jack Rust and the Dao of the Fist!”

Jack looked up. He stared at the curtain that parted as the shark-man walked out and gave him a wary look.

Jack grinned. He smashed his fists together. This guy again… He just wouldn’t stand down, but that was fine. He and the scions were already irreconcilable.

This was the perfect target to vent on.