Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse - Chapter 480: Dao Talk

“Hey man,” Jack said, stepping to the side of Starhair. “Can I ask you something?”

The other cultivator didn’t turn his head. His voice came aloof, almost dismissing. “What is it this time?”

“Why are you being a dick to me? I don’t remember doing anything to offend you.”

Starhair gave Jack a long stare, not replying. Jack scoffed.

“Not that I particularly care,” he added. “I’ve had my fair share of assholes. It’s just that we’re stuck here for a few days, I’m annoyed that my cultivation is slow, and I figured that maybe asking you would ruin your mood.”

Starhair snorted. “Of course it’s slow. The B-Grade is adjusted for difficulty against a cultivator’s potential. With your stupidly large inner world, it won’t surprise me if you remain at the early B-Grade forever. It would suit you just right.”

“We both know that won’t happen. I’ll find a way.” Jack smiled. “Is that it, then? You’re jealous?”

“Please.”

“Then what is it?”

“You killed a family friend of mine. A C-Grade from my galaxy. You know who I’m talking about.”

Jack scoffed again. “I haven’t the slightest idea. I’ve killed lots of people.”

Starhair turned quickly, his galaxy-like hair whipping around. His eyes shimmered with anger. “Don Cranxiao, you imbecile. A heir of the Iron Fist Empire. He was from the Hammerhead Galaxy, same as me, as you very well know.”

Jack blinked in surprise.The name was familiar, from a long time ago. When he first arrived at the Cathedral, Don Cranxiao had been an obnoxious, low-level bully. He was sheltered by his high-rank cousin, Baron Longform, and he often beat up or stole the Dao Stones of the bottom-rankers. He’d eventually made the mistake of messing with Jack, who executed him in a public duel. It was what kickstarted his whole enmity with the much more dangerous Baron Longform.

In Jack’s mind, Don Cranxiao was nothing but a throw-away minor villain, one of the dozens he’d faced throughout the years.

“First of all,” he said, “I don’t give a shit about which galaxy you come from, let alone Cranxiao. It’s my first time hearing about a Hammerhead galaxy. What stupid name is that, anyway? Second… Really? You were friends with that clown? He was nothing but a little bully. I know you’re an ass, but even you can do better.”

“Don’t insult the dead. Cranxiao was a family friend. I had the implicit responsibility to protect him,” Starhair said, puffing out his chest. “Because you killed him, I received the chastised by my galaxy’s A-Grade overlord.”

Jack couldn’t help it. He laughed.

“What are you laughing about?” Starhair said, frowning deeply.

“I just can’t,” Jack replied, still laughing. It wasn’t out of mockery. This justification was so jarringly soft, so ridiculous, that he’d been ambushed with laughter. “Let me tell you something, Starhair,” he said, wiping a tear off his eye. “You and I are not the same kind of people. I’m a warrior, and you are just a spoiled, powerful brat. Do you know what happened between me and my last real enemy? He tried to enslave my planet. I killed his son, his best disciple, humiliated him publicly, cracked his Dao, and got him exiled from his family and home faction. In retaliation, he yet again invaded my home planet, abducted my son and killed him before my very eyes, then orchestrated a massive hunt for me. I had to go through hell and back to recover from my son’s death and gain the power to face that man and his backers. Our conflict was the focal point of a constellation-wide war with casualties numbering in the tens of billions. In the end, not only did I defeat him and kill everyone who supported him, not only did I destroy a B-Grade faction with a million years of history, but I also forced his millions of descendants to change their last name so he would dishonored for eternity.”

Jack had stopped laughing. He wasn’t angry, just amused. Meanwhile, Starhair had gone pale.

“So you can understair, Starhair,” Jack continued calmly, “that when you use your peanut-sized brain to insult me only because you received a scolding from your galaxy’s big daddy, you do not intimidate me. I’m not even offended. You are so refreshingly mild that all you achieve is to amuse me. If you want my advice, give it up, turn your life around, and stop being such a little bitch.”

Starhair took a moment to compose himself. He seemed both mortified and angry. “I don’t need your advice,” was all he managed to say.

Jack laughed. “Just stay out of my damn feet,” he said, walking away. “Clown.”

He approached Brock again, ignoring Starhair’s burning glare on his back. Brock, who’d listened to the conversation, shook his head. “What a silly little bro,” he said.

“I heard that!” Starhair called out, only to be ignored by both.

“I guess that’s one worry off my head,” Jack said, shrugging. “What are you going to do now? Meditate on your Dao?”

“Yes. Time is precious. We must work hard.”

“Agreed.” Jack sighed. “After everything that happened, not having a time limit over our heads feels pretty nice, but we shouldn’t laze about.”

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Brock gave him a good look. “Are you okay, bro?”

“Yes. It’s all in the past now, but thank you for worrying.”

“It’s my job.” Brock nodded. “Okay. I’m going to meditate.”

“See you, bro.”

Brock made to walk away. In the same moment, space warped between them. Elder Boatman appeared—the clone who was driving their ship. “Disciples,” he said in his gravely voice. “I have some time. Let’s talk about your paths.”

“Oh, hi Master,” Jack said.

“Hello, Master Grandpa Dead. Thanks for the peanuts. They were very tasty.”

“No problem. Brock, you go first. Tell me about your inner world.”

The brorilla grinned. “Okay! I have the bro world. It is gold and big. All my bros live there.”

“As phantoms, I assume?” the Elder asked.

“Yes. All real bros have phantoms in the central temple. There are also brorilla bros flying around.”

“That’s so much more than mine,” Jack said. “I just have a meteor and empty space.”

“Different Daos manifest differently, but it doesn’t mean much,” Elder Boatman explained. “Does your inner world feel stable, Brock?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s an important point. It means you can just focus on gathering energy. Not by yourself, obviously—the New Cathedral contains many resources which I suspect they’ll let you use.”

Jack and Brock’s faces lit up. “Thank you, Master!” Jack said.

“Don’t thank me. The Arch Priestess controls these things.” Boatman waved a hand. “What Daos do you focus on, Brock?”

“Brohood.”

“Just that?”

“Yes. The rest of the Daos are just helpful bros.”

Boatman sighed. “That’s good. I would normally be worried, but since you’ve reached this stage without a problem, brotherhood must be one of the rare Daos which can be cultivated by themselves.”

“Of course. Brotherhood is everything.”

“For the early B-Grade realm,” Boatman advised, “you should try to exercise your Dao as much as possible. Make bros. Do things with them. Help them and have them help you. I don’t know if the New Cathedral has any Dao Visions suitable for you, but your path is very simple regardless. Just stay pure and true.”

“Of course. Thanks, Master Grandpa Dead.”

“And stop calling me that.”

“Okay, Master Bro.”

Boatman closed his eyes and released a long, tired sigh. “Never mind. Call me whatever you want. Now, Jack—your path is significantly more complicated than your brother’s. I understand that you cultivate Life and Death alongside Time and Space. Is that right?”

“Right,” Jack replied. “The Fist is the core of my Dao, and it represents Life. The rest are built around it. Life and Death are my primary duality, and Spacetime is secondary.”

Boatman nodded. “You understand it is a difficult path. Even most Archons only pursue one or two Daos to the apex. You want to go for four, and you have very little time to do so because of the looming war. Tell me the truth—is there any way I can talk you out of this?”

Jack grinned. “No.”

“Okay.” Boatman sighed. “Then, here’s what you need to do. Pursue Life and Death concurrently. Use all the time and resources you can on those two Daos, making sure you reach as far as possible and that they remain balanced. Spacetime will hopefully follow by itself. It’s okay if it lags behind a bit—you’ll have time to make up for it in the A-Grade.”

“Yes, Master.”

“As for your cultivation, there is no point wasting your time, as you’ve no doubt realized yourself. The process would take tens of thousands of years for each minor realm. Just look for treasures and other opportunities to advance quickly. I want your Dao to remain as your focus, at least for now.”

“Okay.”

“Good. You’re listening—that already surpasses my expectations. Tell me about your Class.”

“It’s something called Paragon of Cultivation,” Jack explained. “A Legendary Class.”

“Legendary?” Boatman raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“That’s its tier. It’s not King, but Legendary. I think that’s better.”

“Are you sure? I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“The System said it’s because I pushed a new boundary in cultivation, opening the path for future generations.”

“Hmm. Well, yes. That makes sense. It’s just that I’ve never heard about it.” Boatman raised a hand to scratch his pale head. He seemed intrigued. “Then again, you did reach ten thousand miles during your breakthrough. I guess it’s possible. You wouldn’t lie. Based on your description, such a Class should have been awarded to other cultivators in the past, but I’m not surprised it never reached my ears. People tend to keep their Classes a secret. It can serve as a clue about their strengths and weaknesses.”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s a big deal or not, but the Class did come with certain benefits. It gives me more stats per level. It also grants me a top-level Dao Vision at every minor realm, and it came with a skill which lets me contact an Immortal directly to receive guidance.”

“Contact an Immortal?” Boatman’s eyes widened. “That’s important. Immortals possess virtually infinite knowledge and resources, and they almost never accept disciples. Having one of them as your mentor would be a huge deal—and, depending on your allegiance, maybe not something you’d want to share. That would explain why there is no mention of this Class in the Church’s records. It’s an easy path to treason—nobody would reveal this.”

“Uh.” Jack scratched his head. “I’m not planning on actually contacting the Immortals. I’m not a traitor.”

“I know you aren’t. It’s a good thing you let me know—a direct channel of communication to the Immortals could be a strategic advantage, if you don’t mind sharing this with the Arch Priestess as well. But it probably won’t work unless you’re inside System space.”

“Then it’s useless.”

“We’ll see. There are some things we can do. Those Dao Visions you mentioned should also need the System to work. They obviously aren’t stored in the little System core inside you—you will need to be in System space to receive them.”

“What!?”

“Don’t worry. I told you—there are things we can do, but we’ll need to reach the New Cathedral first. Just focus on your Daos for now. Stabilize your foundation. Get ready to leap forward once you receive those Dao Visions. Each will only be about a single Dao, anyway, so most of the heavy lifting will be done by yourself.” He sighed. “See how easy this would be if you focused on just one or two Daos?”

“Perhaps, but I think I can handle four.”

“What else I can do except believe in you?” Boatman shrugged. “That’s all I had to say for now. If there is nothing else—”

The starship shook. The teleportation was cut short. Jack looked out the window and saw the inside of pulsating suckers surrounded by bright pink flesh. Something had grabbed their ship and ripped it directly out of the deep spacetime layers. Something big.