Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse C.460: Over my Dead Body

Jack was dazed. This had occurred too suddenly—Brock, who was supposed to be far away, had suddenly appeared and blocked his attack. He’d shielded the Emberheart Moon.

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“What did you say?” Jack replied, half-angry and half-surprised. It was the first time Brock spoke against him—and with such ferocity, too. This was similar to challenging him.

“I said, that’s enough,” Brock repeated. His fur was risen, his eyes were narrowed. He was breathing heavily out of anger. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Were you really going to murder all these people, Jack!?”

Jack opened his mouth to reply but was shaken. Jack?

He and Brock had been together almost since the Integration. He’d basically watched the brorilla grow up. In all that time, Brock had never called Jack by name. This was the first time.

For some reason, hearing his name be uttered by the brorilla’s lips shook his world. However, it was too late to care. Jack felt hatred, anger, despair, grief. He was trapped in darkness, and the only way out was to destroy the moon below him.

“I am getting revenge for my son,” he replied heavily. “What do you think you’re doing, Brock?”

“My duty.” The brorilla raised his head and puffed out his chest. “You are making a mistake. As your bro, I cannot allow that.”

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“I don’t think. I know I can.”

An intense golden aura erupted from Brock’s body. It washed away the stars and flooded the moon below. The elderly Enforcers were once again flung backward, and they retreated as far as they could.

Brock’s aura shone like the sun, then gathered around him to form the outline of a massive, transparent, golden brorilla. It adopted a battle stance with its staff extended. Brock was in its chest, where its heart should be, in the exact same stance. His anger melted into calm resolve.

“You have protected me many times before,” he said with resolve. “Now, it is my turn to protect you.”

Jack was frozen. Brock wanted to fight him? He had to fight Brock? This was too much, too quickly, too sudden. His entire being protested—but the darkness in his heart rose up, engulfing his mind, reminding him that this was a challenge he had to accept. He needed to destroy this place—and whoever stood in his way would be destroyed as well.

Jack clenched his fist. A purple aura erupted, so dense it was almost physical, clashing against the brorilla’s. Gold and purple split the sky—two brothers fighting.

“Why are you doing this, Brock?” Jack shouted. “Why do you have to make me do this!?”

“If you kill these innocent people,” Brock replied calmly, “you will never be able to return. You will have become what you hate—no better than Artus Emberheart. I will die before letting that happen.”

Jack clenched his teeth. His aura fluctuated. “Don’t push me, Brock! I must do this. I must avenge my son!”

“This is not avenging anyone,” Brock replied. “Eric is gone. He has already been avenged. All you are doing now is indulging in your darkness.”

“How can you think you know better than me!?”

“Because you are blinded, and I am not.”

Brock’s stance remained hard. He would not take a single step backward. As for Jack, he felt trapped. He didn’t want to fight, but he couldn’t bear to go back now. He couldn’t abandon Eric. He couldn’t let him down again. He’d taken an oath in his son’s name to wipe the name Emberheart off this galaxy.

“I really will attack, Brock!” he warned again.

“Good. Come,” the brorilla replied. “Let me see if your darkness can overcome the light of brohood.”

More golden light erupted. It didn’t only blind Jack, but it also reached deep into his soul and seared something inside it. His Dao Fruit of Brotherhood shook as if wanting to rip itself off the tree. Jack felt himself grow weaker.

What’s happening? he thought. Is the Dao of Brotherhood against me? Does it disapprove of my actions?

At the same time that Jack grew weaker, streams of power converged to Brock from all across the galaxy. The golden brorilla grew more solid, more real, until it resembled a larger and shinier version of Brock.

Jack was finally incensed. “Do you think this is enough!?” he shouted. “That a few tricks can close the gap between us!? Do you really intend to challenge me!?”

“I don’t want to fight you, Jack, but I will not let you pass.”

How strong is Brock? Jack tried to calculate. They were both at eight fruits—however, Jack himself had benefited from many more opportunities. His strength should be much higher than Brock’s. Hell, it should be incomparable to any other C-Grade’s.

So why did he feel a vague sense of threat?

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Come to think of it, Jack’s greatest breakthrough had come when he suffered in grief for a year. Hadn’t Brock endured the same? While Jack was in the Black Hole World, Brock had thought him dead. Who knows how many insights he’d gained during that time. How much stronger he’d gotten.

Jack realized he actually didn’t have a gauge on Brock’s strength. By all reasoning, it shouldn’t be comparable to his, or Brock would have joined him in the final battle against the Animal Kingdom.

Would he really have to attack his little brother?

Jack was trapped. Deadlocked. He roared and released his power, buffeting Brock’s golden brorilla. He felt it give way. Brock was standing his ground, but only barely. Even if he could fight Jack for a bit, he couldn’t win. He was strong, stronger than any C-Grade Jack had ever seen, but less so than Jack himself. His chances of victory were tiny.

So why? Why was he doing this? Why was he putting Jack in such a dilemma? Did he not care?

Jack felt immensely angry. All his other emotions had been transmuted into it. The only thing holding him back was a tiny suspicion at the back of his mind—could he be wrong?

For Brock to stand up like this, he had to be completely confident, and Jack himself had always doubted this course of action. Could it be that Jack was wrong, and Brock was really trying to protect him?

But did it matter? The pain that Jack felt at meeting his bro’s full-force resistance was inconsequential. He needed to avenge his son. He needed to complete his oath. How could he abandon his child once again?

A colosseum faintly shimmered into existence around them. The spectators weren’t shouting like usually—they were deathly silent. An aura of tragedy hung over the world. Jack stood in the sky, a dark gladiator facing his own brother.

“This is my third and final warning, Brock,” he growled. “Step aside.”

The brorilla snorted. “Make me.”

That’s it, Jack thought, seeing red. That’s enough. He clenched his fist. His aura erupted, filled with brutality. He’d already been driven to the limit—now was the time to smash his brother unconscious, and damned be the consequences.

Jack charged.

More flashes appeared around Brock. The Trampling Ram came into view. Gan Salin, Nauja, Bomn, Vashter… All the people he’d traveled with for months, all his companions, stood side by side against him. They rallied around Brock.

Even if their power was completely negligible, they still banded together, readying themselves to fight him.

Jack skidded to a stop. The solidarity of his friends against him hurt him deeply.

“I may be insane, but right now, so are you,” Gan Salin said, stretching out his fingernails. “If you want to pass, Jack, you’ll need to do it over our dead bodies! This is us protecting you!”

“See the light!” Nauja shouted.

“Be strong!” Bomn added in anger. “You are better than this, Jack!”

Jack laughed. “All of you would stand against me? You would all abandon me? I guess I really am alone! This is the only way!”

“What bullshit are you spouting?” Brock shouted back. “You’re losing it, Jack. Pull yourself together!”

“I’m the one losing it? Look around you, Brock. I must avenge my son, you know I need to! I must complete the oath I made in his name! I don’t want to do this, but I have to!”

“Are you even listening to yourself!?” Brock shouted, completely losing his composure for the first time. “How can you be so blind? My son this and my son that. That’s all you refer to him as! Your son! You don’t call him Eric anymore, and do you know why? Because this isn’t about him, but about you. You aren’t avenging anyone. This is not grief—it’s pride!”

Jack felt like a bomb exploded inside his head. He momentarily lost contact with the world. His heart was shaken. Pride?

Was he really avenging Eric? Or was he only lashing out about the fact that, by killing his son, someone had wounded his pride? Even worse, was this all just an attempt to excuse himself for his past failures?

His mind screamed no, but a tiny voice inside him whispered maybe.

Who am I? Jack thought, the only question he could come up with.

His aura fell into disarray. His Dao shook. Sensing that, Brock sighed in relief, then let his aura soften as well.

“It’s okay, bro,” he said. “It’s not too late. You still haven’t done anything bad. You remain whole—just see the light.”

Jack looked inside himself. He saw the phantom of Eric demanding justice—but as he took a closer look, the phantom slowly warped, turning into a vision of Jack himself. The real Eric was standing behind him, crying in silence.

“Eric?” Jack whispered.

“Dad…” Eric muttered, his voice covered with sobs.

“I am doing this for you!” Jack tried to justify himself. “You deserve it! You are worth more to me than all those leonines. This is the only way I can balance out your death!”

“There is nothing to balance, Dad…” Eric whispered. “I don’t want this. I just want people to stop dying. I just want…peace. Don’t make more people cry. Please.”

Jack’s lip trembled. He, a hardened cultivator of the Fist, the overlord of a galaxy, almost lost control of his emotions. The phantom of Eric disappeared, and Jack felt pressed against a mental wall which caused him extreme pain. All his instincts screamed to back away and forget about this.

He could sense this was a trial. With a deep breath, he dared to look into himself in earnest, to step through the wall. It was the hardest step he’d taken in his entire life.

And the wall shattered. And there were no more ghosts. Only Jack, the world, and the future. His pain existed only because he refused to let it go. Because he feared that, if he stopped feeling grief and fighting for revenge, it would mean abandoning Eric again.

But that was not the case. Eric wouldn’t want it. He never liked conflict. All he wanted, all he ever desired, was peace.

Jack let go.

Eric appeared again, a ghost that was smiling this time. “Goodbye, Dad,” he said. “Live a happy life for me, okay? Protect Mom and Ebele.”

Jack teared up. “I will. I promise you, Eric… I will.”

Eric smiled and vanished forever. Jack felt empty. Warm fur pressed against his skin as a brorilla embraced him, hiding his tears from the world, supporting him through thick and thin, being there like only a true bro could.

“I’m sorry…” Jack managed to say.

“It’s okay, bro,” Brock said softly. “Nobody is perfect. We all make mistakes. As long as we have our bros… Everything is okay.”

Jack couldn’t reply. More people fell around them—Gan Salin, Nauja… They embraced Jack and smothered him with brotherly love, filling his empty insides with warmth. Jack was so exhausted, but also reborn. He’d seen through the mysteries of life and death today—not as a cultivator, but as a person.

“Thank you…” he whispered. “Without you, I’m nothing.”

“We all are,” Brock replied with a smile. “Alone, we are nothing. Only together are we real.”