Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

“This way,” Brock said.

“Alright.”

The three of them turned slightly, angling their flight path. They cut through the omnipresent darkness like arrows, the extremely dense Dao powerless to hinder their progress.

Through Brock’s Dao of Brohood, he could track the position of people who’d become his bros—to an extent. Thanks to the two weeks they spent in the camp before the Canal Delve, several of the other B-Grade disciples had been bebro’d, which was how the trio planned to rejoin the disciple group heading for the Hall of Trials.

“How far away do you think the actual Hall is?” Starhair asked.

“We’ve only traveled ten percent into the Dark Canal,” Jack calculated. “However, we were traveling diagonally and also fighting sometimes. If the group flew straight ahead at the speed of the slowest disciple, they must have crossed double that distance by now. I suspect we’ll catch up in an hour, at around thirty percent of the way to the end of the Dark Canal.”

The Canal was a thousand miles wide and several thousand long. With their perceptions and speed greatly limited by the extreme Dao density, exploring its entire area was close to impossible. Traveling down to its end, however, was simpler. All they had to do was fly straight ahead. Barring the various monsters blocking the path, it would take less than a day.

“Not that easy,” Brock said, furrowing his brows. “The location of our bros jumps left and right—space is warped.”

“Really?” Jack said in surprise. He focused his perception into the folds of space. At this point, he could be considered an expert on par with A-Grade space cultivators. Few people in the universe could claim to surpass him in this regard. However, even when actively looking for distortions, he came up with nothing. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Space looks fine to me.”

The three fell silent, tirelessly shooting forward. The occasional monster attacked them, but, with the exception of a middle A-Grade one, they were all at the early A-Grade and easily disposed of. Besides the many cores, they ran into no treasure.

The more they flew, however, the more Brock’s suspicions seemed true. They’d been flying for several hours. According to Jack’s calculations, they should have already caught up, yet the group remained far away.

“How?” Jack asked, struggling to wrap his mind around it. “Even an Archon specializing in Space would struggle to set up such an elaborate distortion. It covers such a great area, and I can’t detect it? Wow.”

Another thirty minutes later, Jack creased his brow. “Wait,” he said. They instantly came to a stop. The darkness around them looked exactly the same as before, as did the frothing waters below.

“What?” Starhair asked. “Did you find the space distortion?”

“No,” Jack replied. “But I sense something else. A calling. Like a very faint stream of Dao emitted from far up ahead.” He paused. “It’s the most powerful Dao I’ve ever felt.”

“What do you think it is?” Brock asked.

“Maybe the Hall of Trials? Elder Owlhead did mention he could sense it when close-by.”

The power of one’s Dao perception relied primarily on their cultivation level, as well as their specific Dao specialties and overall power. Jack cultivated Space, amongst other stuff, so his perception was more sensitive than most. Coupled with his overwhelming power for his Grade, he was probably sharper than any other B-Grade.

Brock and Starhair focused but got nothing.

“Let’s keep moving,” Jack said. “If it comes from the Hall of Trials, we’ll catch up with the others anyway.”

Shortly afterwards, however, they paused again. The location of Brock’s disciple bros had originally been aligned with the Dao stream Jack was sensing, but as time passed, they began to diverge.

“They turned,” Brock said, cupping his chin. “Why?”

“Strange. Since they were headed in this direction, the Dao stream really must be the Hall of Trials. Why would they turn away now? If I can sense it, the Elders guiding the group definitely can as well.” ⱤÁNỘＢĘŚ

The three glanced at each other, but there was nothing else to deduce.

“What do we do, big bro?” Brock asked. “Do we go after your sense or the disciple group?”

“Let’s go for the group,” Jack decided. “Whatever this Dao stream is, we have to prioritize finding them. Great Silver was clear—we disobey, we die. Even if it is the Hall of Trials, maybe the Elders just know a safer way forward.”

Brock and Starhair nodded. “Alright.”

The disciple group kept diverging from the path to the suspected Hall of Trials. At first, Jack thought they were just choosing another direction to approach from, but as time passed it became clear that was not the case. They were circling it at a radius. Why?

“Everything will be answered once we find them,” Jack said, accelerating. “Let’s hurry!”

Their distance to the group shortened rapidly. At some point, however, an odd change took place.

The stone islands gave way to dirt ones. It was fascinating. Stepping on them felt like standing on actual land, yet they floated undisturbed in the aggressive waters of the Canal.

Jack tapped the ground a few times with his foot. “Not giving way,” he noticed. “Think it’s normal?”

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“Nothing’s normal here, bro,” Brock replied. He scooped a handful of dirt from the ground and placed it in his mouth. “Mhm,” he said, spitting it out. “Tastes like dirt.”

“...Why did you do that?”

“How else would I know its taste?”

“You know what? Nevermind. What do you think, guys? Should we return to the stone islands or keep going?”

“I don’t like this…” Starhair said, gazing at the ground with suspicion. “It’s supposed to be stone islands. The Elders made it clear.”

“Maybe it’s a treasure,” Jack ventured a guess.

“Or a monster. I say we turn back and find another way.”

“We can fight monsters, but we shouldn’t miss treasures,” Brock said. “I say we continue.”

“I agree with Brock,” Jack said. “In any case, the group went this way, so how dangerous could it be?”

“I can sense they’re very close,” Brock added.

Starhair sighed. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The three took to the air again. They were no longer attacked by monsters. Instead, their path took them deeper into the dirt island region, where a faint musty smell hung in the air.

They were on high alert. Clearly, something was wrong here—but what?

***

Strawpin accelerated, pushing her way to the front of the group, next to Elder Owlhead. The wind threatened to steal her straw hat, but who was she to let it?

“Elder!” she called out. “Excuse me for my bluntness, but are you sure this is the right way?”

Elder Owlhead turned his head ninety degrees. His still gaze was unnerving. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve read the records on previous delves. There has never been a different biome before the Hall.” She gestured below them, where endless dirt islands stretched out. “I fear this is either the lair of a powerful monster or the birthplace of some great treasure. In either case… It is not something we should be approaching.”

Owlhead remained silent. Just when Strawpin thought he’d never reply, he did. “Are you doubting me?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t dare,” she replied quickly. “Just… I want to make sure we’re on the right track.”

“We are.”

“Okay. Thank you for your time, Elder.”

Owlhead watched Strawpin return to her place at the back of the line, near the Fiend Prince. They didn’t look at each other. The Elder kept his gaze on them for a while before turning his head a hundred and eighty degrees to face the front.

“They’re beginning to suspect,” he said telepathically.

“Hehehe. And so what? They’re disciples—their opinion weighs little. It was the Overlords who asked us to delay reaching the Hall, so we’ll be fine no matter what.” Elder Shadowhound’s voice echoed in Owlhead’s mind, dark and shady.

“I know,” he replied, “but their unrest can backfire. Maybe we should leave this biome.”

“Are you stupid? Dirt islands over such a large area… This is unheard of! Who knows what treasure lies at its core? With our means, we’ll be safe against pretty much anything. We might as well use this chance to get rich!”

“And the disciples?” Owlhead asked.

“The disciples will obey us. If they become a problem…” Under its shadows, Elder Shadowhound’s mouth curved into a sinister grin. “The strong will prey on the weak. That is the way of our world, and blasted be the faction rules. No witnesses, no crime.”

Owlhead considered it. “Alright,” he replied, and the group carried on, deeper and deeper into the dirt island area.

***

Jack, Brock, and Starhair zoomed through the Dark Canal.

“We’re here,” Brock said suddenly. The darkness split before them—twenty-some figures were revealed in the distance, calmly flying forward. As Jack laid eyes on them, they paused, the leading Elders turning to regard the new arrivals.

“You survived,” Elder Owlhead said.

“Yes, Elder,” Jack replied. Sorry for worrying you.”

“Worrying? We laughed at your misfortune!” Elder Shadowhound added, chuckling darkly. “You sure are arrogant. First you ditch the group to go hunting for treasures alone, then when you fail, you return with your tail between your legs and expect to be taken back in. What do you think we are, for you to come and go as you like!?”

Facing the Elder’s chiding, Jack frowned. He had no intention of being meek—doing so before Overlord Great Silver was already testing the limits of his patience. To someone of similar strength to himself, Jack wouldn’t necessarily start a conflict, but he’d certainly bite back if challenged.

“I thought I could come and go as I like,” he said. “If we are welcome, let us join you. If not, let us know so we can move on. Why waste everyone’s time on pointless drivel?”

“Drivel!? Good, good, good, Jack Monstrous! You got guts!”

The Elder’s aura blazed forth. It wasn’t just a warning—he aimed to push Jack into the water, a truly dangerous notion. Jack frowned and was about to defend, but another aura rose to shield him, Elder Owlhead appearing right in front of him.

“Please calm down, Elder Shadowhound,” he said. “These disciples made a mistake. It is good enough that they survived to rejoin us. Let the issue rest.”

“Hmph! You’re too calm, Owlhead! You should vent a little every once in a while!”

“I follow my faction’s command,” Owlhead replied calmly. Shadowhound snorted and turned around, leading the group onward.

Jack turned to Elder Owlhead. “Thank you for protecting me, Elder,” he said.

“You are a disciple of my faction. Of course I would protect you,” the Elder replied, his inquisitive eyes not leaving Jack’s. “You were lucky enough to miss all monsters, but that won’t happen again. Stay with us from now on.”

“Yes.”

Owlhead nodded, then teleported back to the front of the group, leading everyone alongside Elder Shadowhound. The two flew close together despite their heated exchange.

“I don’t like this person,” Brock said telepathically.

“Why?” Jack asked.

“His aura is wrong. Something about it. My bro sense is tingling.”

“Hmm. Alright. I don’t see it, but I’ll keep an eye out.”

They quickly caught up to the tail end of the group and slowed down to match their pace. Coincidentally, Strawpin was at the tail end as well.

“You’re so lucky,” she said. “When I saw you leave, I thought you’d just wasted three of the faction’s spots to suicide. Only blind luck saved you. To be honest, I don’t know if I’m happy or disappointed you survived.”

“Sweet words,” Jack replied. “Come now, Strawpin. Don’t be a bitch.”

“Excuse me!?”

Snorting laughter came from the side. “Suits you right,” Fiend Prince said, his commanding voice spreading easily. “That’s no way to speak to your fellow disciples.”

“They’re not— Screw you, Prince. Shut your mouth. And you, Jack Monstrous—next time you do something stupid like that, the native monsters won’t even need to lift a finger. I’ll deal with you myself for wasting sect resources.”

“Sure,” Jack replied disinterestedly, then ignored her as he flew forward. He had a certain tolerance for bad manners, especially when it came to maintaining decorum, but it wasn’t infinite.

Maybe I’ll need to use my flip-flops again, he mused as the group tore through the darkness.

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