Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse - Chapter 62
Chapter 62: Chasing the Dao
“Dao skills are the true skills,” Dorman explained.
“What does that mean?” Jack asked. Brock stood on the floor beside them, nodding as if following the conversation.
“It means that Dao skill are the way to go.” Dorman shook his head. “Normal skills are useful, yes, but only at the start. As you rise in Grade, they lose their value. Imagine being a D-grade immortal who can fly and destroy mountains. Would the ability to strike slightly harder with a hammer be helpful?”
“No,” Jack replied easily.
“Exactly. At that level, simple skills are useless. Only the Dao matters.”
“And that’s where Dao skills come in.”
“Dao skills are skills that have been adapted to your personal Dao. You can’t just read an information crystal to learn them; you have to forge them yourself. Most people begin forming them when they choose their Dao Seed and break through to the E-Grade, and they are lucky to get one Dao skill in their entire lives. However, if you want to become a true warrior, they are essential. They do with your Dao what normal skills do with your body.”
“Use it better.”
“Exactly.” Dorman nodded. “The real use of normal skills is as the foundation on which to build your Dao skills. It saves us the trouble of learning mundane stuff so we can focus on imbuing the Dao into them.”
“I see…” Jack had read the information packages on the Dao, of course, but they didn’t give details on these skills. They mostly discussed the three first stages of the Dao—Dao Roots, Dao Seeds, and Dao Trees—and how to best advance from stage to stage. “You know a lot of stuff for a kid, Dorman.”
“I am not a kid. I’m young. After the System, those two are not the same,” he replied with a sad smile, dodging Jack’s teasing.
Jack himself chuckled. He turned his gaze to the ceiling, trying to stare at the sky through it. “It’s incredible that you managed to rise so far at such a young age,” he finally said. “When I was sixteen, all I could think about was girls and video games—and not even in that order.”
“I know what you mean. For me, it was just computer games. When the System arrived… I don’t know what set me apart, to be honest. I was just lucky to be in the perfect circumstances to rise, along with the skills to capitalize on them. A ton of luck, too. Kobold nests are a nightmare.”
Jack threw him a surprised glance.
“I guess,” he replied. “Goblin tribes are easy. Just kill a bunch, avoid getting burned alive, then poof, levels.”
Dorman chuckled, then stood. “Anyway,” he said. “I’ll go now. After this battle, I want to meditate on a few things. You should as well.”
“Not losing any time, are you?”
“If I did, I would be dead.”
Jack smiled as he waved his young friend goodbye. He watched him head for the stairs, but didn’t move to follow. As Dorman had said, they both had things to meditate on, and the sooner they did it, the better.
What a strange fellow… he mused, going to his meditation mat. Cold like ice, but opens up real quick if you’re strong enough. And being so mature as a teenager… It’s almost sad.
He reached the mat and took a seat, putting Dorman away from his mind. He took in the mystic patterns, which almost seemed to be moving. He closed his eyes, barely sensing Brock sitting beside him on the mat, which he hadn’t done before.
Then, he was lost in meditation.
The Dao Root in his soul grew to encompass his whole being. His thoughts fell into order. He took a deep breath, relaxing his body to let his mind flow uninhibited. Unconsciously, he clenched his fist.
What was the Dao?
The Dao was the truth. It was everything, from the tiniest atom to the largest star. He was merely one of its infinite manifestations. But the Dao had a mind of its own—handles from which he could grab and shape it if his understanding was deep enough. Like the Dao of the Fist.
What was the fist?
The fist was a concept. A fantasy. It was five clenched fingers on a palm, but that was merely a physical shape, not the core of its Dao. The fist represented a person’s intent to fight and win. Their willingness to strike hard and impose their will on others.
It wasn’t a kind thing, the fist. It was hard. It entailed conflict and its resolution. It only appeared in war, in battle, and it wasn’t generous. The fist was a tool of destruction. It couldn’t caress, only break.
But, in the end, the fist was a concept. It was something contained in every living being, regardless of whether they had a physical fist or not. In its deepest form, it was the desire to not step back. It was the bitter spite that appeared when someone tried to control you—or, at least, that was Jack’s Dao.
But he had been in many battles lately, and he realized that, while his Dao was that of the fist, it wasn’t the entire fist. Because the fist was not one thing. It was many.
The fist of liberation was not the same as the fist of oppression. He clenched it to live, but others clenched it to dominate, to escape, to vent, or because that was all they knew to do.
Everyone had their own fist, and the Dao of the Fist encapsulated them all.
And while Jack’s fist wasn’t one with a singular purpose, at least not yet, he knew some things that it was not. A mercenary clenched their fist because that was their job. Jack wouldn’t do that. It didn’t speak to his heart—to his Dao.
Jack clenched his fist for himself. He had clenched it to fight for his life, as well as to fight in a packed stadium and hear the crowd chant his name. He had clenched it because he enjoyed it, and he had clenched it to seek revenge for the faulting of his mother. He clenched it for justice, but also for himself.
His fist had many purposes. He didn’t have to pick a single path yet, though he would when the time came to reach the D-Grade; for now, all he had to do was pick a direction.
After meeting people who each fought for their own reasons, Jack was clear that his Dao of the Fist was too wide. He needed to narrow it down. Eventually, it would become something that belonged solely to him, but for now, a single step would be enough.
He needed something to specify his Dao. What was the common factor in all his fists?
The answer sprang easily. It was desire. He fought because he wanted things; to live, to triumph, to smile.
And as it was easy, it was also wrong.
Desire was indeed what drove him, but it wasn’t what he sought to find. His desire was a general concept, not the right one to complete his fist.
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He knew what the fist was. But what was the essence of his fist?
It wasn’t desire. It wasn’t freedom. Those were the values that drove him, and maybe they were directions he would pursue in the future, but they weren’t what he needed now. They weren’t what his clenched fist represented.
His fist represented a direction. An intent. If a desire sprang up in his heart, he pursued it with his fist. Be it enemies, problems, or oppressors, he simply punched through them. His fist was unstoppable, and it broke through anything because it carried his indomitable will.
Something clicked. His Dao Root of the Fist shuddered in glee as something new appeared beside it, something that defined it further and made it more intimate to Jack. They didn’t form a complete whole, but in his mind’s eye, Jack saw them rotating around his soul, bound together forever and absolutely unshakeable.
He opened his eyes with a calm smile. So, this is what it feels like.
Congratulations! You have developed the Dao Root of Indomitable Will.
To set a course and let nothing change it. To be the master of yourself. To have will indomitable. That is the one true path.
As Jack slowly eased out of his meditative trance, his entire body felt sore. Who knows how long he’d been sitting there? However, his mind felt at peace, like a calm lake filled with treasure. He was so much more than before.
His smile refused to budge. He turned to the side.
“What do you think, Brock? Am I—” Mid-sentence, he stopped. His smile formed into a gape. Brock was sitting right beside him on the mat, eyes closed as he was in the middle of his own ruminations.
And he exuded the faint aura of the Dao. Brock had developed a Dao Root.
Jack blinked, trying to comprehend this. He did a double take. His little bro, a child monkey, had comprehended a Dao Root faster than billions of humans.
He almost forgot his own breakthrough as he scanned Brock.
Brorilla, Level 5 (Elite)
His description hadn’t changed, and his Level hadn’t changed either—he was in his growing phase, so he’d already reached Level 5 the previous day—but he was now considered an Elite! Did monsters with Dao Roots get the tag of Elite, or was that simply the case for the F-Grade?
Maybe Elite monsters had better insight into the Dao than most monsters of their level range. For the F-Grade, that meant having a Dao Root.
Jack still needed to confirm this theory with others, but it made sense.
However, he didn’t bother Brock for now. He was still meditating, obviously, and to interrupt that would be sacrilege. Instead, Jack inspected his own status screen.
Name: Jack Rust
Species: Human, Earth-387
Faction: Bare Fist Brotherhood
Grade: F
Class: Pugilist (Elite)
Level: 35
Strength: 99
Dexterity: 99
Constitution: 99
Mental: 9
Will: 7
Skills: Fistfighting (III), Drill (II), Pugilist Body (II), Parkour (II)
Dao Skills: Meteor Punch (I)
Daos: Dao Root of the Fist, Dao Root of Indomitable Will
Titles: Planetary Frontrunner (10)
A new row had appeared just above Titles. Jack now had two Dao Roots, just like Vivi and Gan Salin. What else had changed?
He slowly stood. His eyes scanned the space, taking everything in. His thoughts felt steady and immovable, subject entirely to his conscious will. The constant noise his head was filled with, the one he had never noticed before, was now absent. His entire being was an arrow he could point wherever he wanted.
His heart was light, and suddenly, everything seemed so very easy.
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Jack grinned. He was in complete control, and he’d never felt better in his life. Moreover…
He clenched his fist, sensing waves of power course through his body. He didn’t just have complete harmony of mind; he also had great strength, which he now possessed the full ability to wield.
The Dao Root of Indomitable Will wouldn’t be directly applicable to combat, but it would be a great supportive ability, and it would help shore up Jack’s weakness; mental and soul defenses.
It was perfect. He couldn’t contain his smile.
Surprised monkey sounds from behind him drew his attention. He turned to find Brock staring at his own hands with wonder.