Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

Chapter 407: Fighting the Gods

Twelve creatures surrounded Jack. The Old Gods… These were entities of unfathomable power—the closest thing the universe had to Gods, besides perhaps the System.

Obviously, however, these weren’t the real Old Gods. They were just flesh-and-bone projections created by the mysterious mechanisms of the hidden realm. Their size was similar to Jack’s, and their cultivation was identical—at full maturity of the fourth fruit, no more and no less.

Was he meant to fight these projections?

Briefly after they appeared, before Jack had the chance to speak, they rushed at him. His gaze sharpened. The Life Drop trial had contained a similar battle part, and he remembered how difficult it had been. He didn’t dare underestimate these twelve.

I’m sorry, mighty Enas… You have helped me in the past, but I must strike down your projection.

Gods these may have been, but in truth, they were nothing but projections made for this trial. Jack felt neither fear nor reverence. He would kick their asses all the same.

His aura rose. The energy of the Life Drop filled his body, making him taller and grow two extra arms, while Brutalizing Aura spread out to cover all twelve of his opponents. In an instant, Jack had reached his peak battle state, ready to give it his all. After three years of meditation and the previous jumps in cultivation, even he didn’t know where his strength lay. He was pumped.

As soon as his powers appeared, however, the opponents reacted. The blob of darkness assumed a devilish form—twisted horns, triangular tail, human body with the face of a goat—and pointed at him. Instantly, his Brutalizing Aura collapsed. It lost all meaning, becoming an empty shell, and then it actually backfired, filling him with an intense fear of death.

What!?

Jack tried to wrestle back control of his skill, but it was impossible. All this attempt achieved was to divert his attention, letting the fastest of the projections reach him. A humanoid made of sparks extended both its arms, one on either side of Jack, and they shone one red and one blue. He ducked instantly. The two arms crashed together as if magnetized—had his head remained between them, it would have been pulverized.

He had no time to strike back. More opponents were approaching. He jumped back, dodging the two explosions below his feet. A tremendous pulling power captured him mid-air, pulling him towards a seemingly-normal humanoid. He pierced through space to escape—or, at least, he tried to.

The moment he reached into space, the far-off humanoid which resembled a rippling pond shook its finger. Space solidified. Its very structure changed, and a force appeared which counterbalanced everything Jack tried to do. In an instant, his space mastery had been rendered useless. The previous humanoid’s pulling power was still in effect, dragging Jack onto them, and a humanoid made of multiple connected spheres jumped up and punched him in the face.

Jack felt like a mountain had crashed into him. He was sent flying away, sonic booms in tow. The gravity in this place was normal, so he didn’t touch the ground for many miles. The moment he did, he quickly rose to his feet. His regeneration was already working to fix his mangled face, and he could clearly see the twelve opponents rushing over, not giving him a moment to rest.

Even as his regeneration activated, however, the man who faintly led the humanoids smiled. A tendril of green aura shot out of his body, instantly reaching Jack. His life energy was siphoned away. His regeneration slowed down precipitously, while his Life Drop battle form reverted.

He was stunned. What!?

The twelve opponents still rushed at him, and Jack flew backward in this endless white expanse, earning himself some time to think.

They are blocking my Dao!

It was unheard of. Yet, it made sense. These twelve creatures were made to resemble the Old Gods—they even displayed the corresponding Daos. Therefore, it only stood to reason they could limit him. Attempting to use a God’s domain against that God was only asking to be punished.

The thing was…what else could he do!?

All twelve Old Gods were represented here. All Daos in existence fell under the domain of one of them. Was everything useless?

His space mastery was negated by the Space God. His life powers were absorbed by the Life God. His death aura and death mastery were neutralized by the Death God. What the hell was he supposed to do? Punch the Gods!?

…That made sense, actually.

As hopeless as the situation seemed, Jack knew there had to be a solution. Archon Green Dragon wouldn’t just set a death trap here. Jack’s Daos were all suppressed, but that would be the same no matter who stood in his place. It was part of the trial. Therefore, there had to be a solution.

When he calmed down and thought about it, he realized that these creatures weren’t omnipotent, even when it concerned their domain. The Life God projection—the projection of Enas—hadn’t absorbed all his life energy, just part of it. It made sense. If they were omnipotent, their cultivation wouldn’t matter, nor would there be a meaning in having them fight him. Moreover, though they resembled Old Gods, they were nothing but phantoms conjured by an Archon—their Dao understandings could rise no higher than Archon Green Dragon’s.

Therefore, it wasn’t that his Daos were completely subdued, just severely weakened.

He also realized that none of the creatures had infiltrated his soul. They had only acted against his Daos when he actively used them.

The soul is inviolable, he remembered, his eyes shining. Perhaps a true Old God could invade it, but these creatures certainly couldn’t.

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And the most important thing was…none of them could affect his cultivation! The Dao belonged to the Old Gods, but cultivation was something that mortals had invented themselves. Perhaps Enas had been the one to kickstart this process, but it was mortals who pursued it. If anything, cultivation stood under the even greater existence of the Heavenly Dao—no Old God alone could claim it.

As long as his cultivation remained, he could fight. He could punch the Gods.

Jack gathered himself. Suddenly, his mind came up with old memories, of the time when he was lost in the Forest of the Strong and punched away at every other living creature. There was no Dao back then—not at the start, at least. All he had were his fists. That was the beginning of his road, his first baby steps, but also the compass which showed the way.

Now, it was the solution to this problem.

His feet pressed against the white ground, stopping his retreat. He fell into a boxing stance. The projections charged at him.

Jack’s mind entered serenity. Concepts were the Dao, so he banished them all. At that moment, he seemed to return to a mortal, considering everything from a material, down-to-earth perspective.

He was just a man in battle.

His spirit flared. He stood his ground against the charging twelve, and with a roar, he charged right back. Fist met lightning. Fist met flames.

Twelve opponents, not extraordinarily strong. Each was at the same cultivation as Jack and not particularly strong for their level either. However, Jack was severely limited—his Life Drop and all Daos were sealed away. All he could depend on was himself.

A normal person wouldn’t be able to combat one opponent in this situation, let alone twelve. But who was Jack? He had survived the Forest of the Strong. He had clawed his way upward through a long series of hard battles. His battle experience was rich, his instincts were sharp, his mind was decisive. He was a veteran. Even surrounded by twelve opponents of similar strength to himself, he calmly took stock of the situation, calculating the best way forward. Behind his clenched fists, which guarded against all attacks, his sharp eyes inspected the battlefield.

Each of the twelve opponents had their own fighting style, their own strengths and weaknesses. They relied completely on their Dao and had no other way to fight. In that sense, being a God was a weakness.

The Space God solely manipulated space. The Time God manipulated time, the twin Explosion Gods—whose exact domains remained unclear—produced explosions. Everything fell into Jack’s eyes. If all those powers were combined, they were insurmountable—but, since he knew which opponent would use which Dao, he could counter them.

Though he did not have his Daos, he still had his cultivation. That included using pure Dao to enhance himself and break through restraints with pure power, as well as his highly-enhanced body and mind. It was capital enough to wage war.

Jack’s figure flashed. He broke through a spacetime cage, then dodged the fist of the sphere-god even as he let fire, explosions, and electricity strike him. He instantly suffered injuries, but nothing too heavy—to descend to his cultivation level, these gods had traded raw power for their extreme insights. He charged through the smoke, ignoring all pain, and arrived before the god with the warped body that kept drawing him in.

If he was not mistaken, this was the Gravity God. His influence was the most annoying, because in this razor-sharp battle, being constantly pulled at random directions could easily spell disaster.

Of course, Jack had to temporarily put aside the consideration that the Gravity God, Space God, Time God, and the sphere person who was perhaps the Mass God should all be one God. He would consider the implications of that later.

Planting his feet steadily into the ground, he drove a punch into the Gravity God’s face. A force pulled him backward, but he had lowered his center of gravity and resisted enough to complete his swing. The Gravity God’s face shattered against Jack’s enhanced fist. Its head exploded, and then its entire body dispersed into motes of light.

One God down, eleven to go. With each one he eliminated, things would become a little easier.

But how could the other Gods just let him kill one of their own? They had struck at him at the same time he attacked the Gravity God, and to complete his swing, he had ignored their attacks.

A space spike jabbed into his thigh, warping his flesh and blood. A time anomaly struck his heart, sending it out of rhythm and almost killing him. The elbow of the Mass God smashed into his back, sending him flying, while the Star God directly blasted a mini-supernova into his face. The Life and Death Gods stood in the back, not attacking.

Jack flew away like a ragdoll, his body almost bent out of proportion. He borrowed his momentum to keep running, creating some distance and waiting for his limited regeneration to kick into effect. It was painfully slow. The Gods pursued him, and running away almost took more energy than he could recover.

This was not working out.

Gritting his teeth, Jack stopped and faced the eleven Gods again, his eyes madly searching for another solution.

There has to be something! He roared out. Just taking out one God had left him injured. At this rate, he could only defeat two or three before they got him, and then he suspected that he truly would die.

Just punching could only get him so far against C-Grades. He needed at least some Dao. But what?

It would be great if he could kill either the Space or Life God and restore his powers, but though the Gods did not speak, they had intelligence. Those two Gods hid behind the others, where he could not reach them without paying an exceptionally heavy price.

Damn it! What do I do!? he wondered. His battle spirit was not doused, but he could not fight and die here! He clenched his fists.

Then, his mind flashed with inspiration. He suddenly remembered something, and he grinned wildly.

When cultivating Life, Space, Death, and all those other Daos, it was easy to forget that the core of his own Dao was the Fist. Generally speaking, the Fist fell under Life, but Jack was not cultivating the Fist. He was not cultivating his Fist. It was his very own Dao, the one he had created when he reached the D-Grade. The Dao of Jack Rust!

He laughed again, opening his mouth to say, “You think you can bully me because you are Gods? Well, so am I! I am Jack Rust, the God of Jack Rust! Come get it, you holy fuckers!”

The pure Dao he’d been using all along was in truth his Dao of Jack Rust—a combination of other Daos which mostly focused on the Fist. He was always working on expanding it with superior concepts, but right now, all he had to use was its essence—the very core of his cultivation path.

He clenched his fists, which burned with purple flames. Only now did he understand the true concept of this trial.

A cultivator's strength depended on many things. Treasures, external sources of energy, lucky chances… With enough luck, anyone could reach extreme power. However, the twelve Old Gods in this trial took away everything. Even the Life Drop had been sealed away. All a challenger could depend on was their very core, the most basic Dao they had developed through their lives, something that could not depend on treasures or lucky chances. In a sense, this was the greatest proof of a cultivator’s talent, the foundation on which they depended to search for insights and lucky chances.

And in this domain, how could anyone compare to Jack, who had clawed his way to the top through endless impossible battles?

There could be people stronger than him. There could be people with higher cultivations, more treasures, and better lucky chances. But it was in this regard alone that Jack was completely confident in himself. He had forged his own path one step at a time. Even if the Gods themselves stood in his way, he would tear right through!

That was what it meant to be a cultivator, goddammit!

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