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Chapter 218: Challenging the Final Guardian
🕑 Added 2023-06-12 17:36:01 +0000 UTCI finished the book! My sprint worked!
I'm in editing mode now, but I will post the entire book before I go on break, and not just that -- I will also post the final few chapters all at once, so you can read them uninterrupted and enjoy them as they're meant to be enjoyed.
So. Normal daily chapters until Thursday, and on Friday I will post 5 chapters at once to close the book. After that, I'll return sometime in the first week of July, depending on how the Book 3 planning goes.
Enjoy the chapter!
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Jack entered the throne room. As he stepped through the door, he felt a breeze pass over his skin, like he’d been caressed by a curtain of wind.
He took a deep breath. The air was fresh here—strong, somehow, almost verdant. Even breathing this air heightened his senses and brought out his body’s full potential. Torches lined the walls, gold-trimmed stone columns were arranged uniformly across the rectangular hall, and a red carpet stretched from the entrance to the throne, where an old knight sat with his eyes closed.
Soon after Jack entered the room, the knight’s eyes opened.
“Another challenger,” he said with a sigh. “Let’s see; will it be an unimpressive hatchling, or a slightly less unimpressive weakling?”
“How about a proper opponent?” Jack replied from across the room. He infused his voice with his Dao, making it echo against the walls like a struck gong.
The knight laid eyes on Jack. He took his time. A moment later, his lips rose slightly, “Finally, someone with real skill. Four roots, right? Not bad, not bad at all. You are still too weak to face me, unfortunately, but at least you’re not a waste of resources like most of your compatriots.”
Unlike his previous words, the guardian suddenly seemed amenable. He even smiled at Jack. Seeing this, Jack also took a mental step back and became respectful.
“Not compatriots, senior,” he answered. “I come from a planet that was only recently Integrated. Actually, most of the people who made it to this ring wanted to kill me.”
“And I see they failed.”
The guardian rose from his throne. He was like a normal human in size, except clad in iron armor like a medieval knight. A simple mace was strapped to his belt, and his helmet was open, revealing a slightly wrinkled, white-bearded face. His brown eyes, however, remained hard and radiating Dao. Meeting them took all of Jack’s willpower.
“I outsmarted and defeated them,” he replied. “A twist of fate later, I developed my fourth Dao Root to escape a trap, and I emerged as the victor of this Garden Assault.”
“Garden Assault, eh?” said the old man, his lips quirking. “I remember a time when young cultivators made it here regularly, not once a year, as you do now. The labyrinth guardian isn’t that strong… I no longer see Kings, either, only Lords. Has the world degraded that far?”
“Degraded? How long have you been in here, senior?”
The old man waved his hands. “It doesn’t matter. However… An Integration, you say…” His face revealed sadness, a hint of regret. “I suppose it does work. Throw a billion mortals into the meat grinder to create a handful of powerhouses. Such a waste of life.”
“Isn’t Trial Planet the same, senior?” Jack asked. “A meat grinder to make the strongest rise?”
“Hardly comparable. The people who enter Trial Planet choose to do so, fully aware of the risks involved. An Integration is forced onto ignorant weaklings.”
Jack remained silent for a moment, considering the old man’s words. He then said, “I am Jack Rust of Earth-387, cultivator of the Dao of the Fist. Can I have your name, senior?”
“I care not for your name or Dao. You are an interesting break in my monotony, young mortal, but I only have ears for those capable of defeating me. As for my name… Well, defeat me, and you’ll find out.”
Jack laughed. “That’s more like it.” He smashed his fists together. “Then, shall we begin?”
The old man frowned. “You don’t have the strength to fight me. Four roots and a perfect seed are not enough. Leave now, before I humiliate you and kick you out.”
“If you don’t try me, how will you know?”
The old man stared into Jack’s eyes for a moment, the pressure enough to give him a slight headache. Then, he grabbed his mace and took a step forward. “So be it. A beating is a good way to learn.”
He suddenly charged.
The two of them were separated by several hundred feet of empty space. Yet, the moment the knight dashed, that distance closed almost instantly. Jack barely had time to cross his arms and defend.
However, this wasn’t the casual strike that the knight had once used to strike Bocor. This was a real one.
Jack was flung away. His bones cracked. The attack was strong enough to be unstoppable, and he flew all the way until he crashed into the wall above the entrance—the still-open door from where Brock, Salin, and Nauja watched him.
The wall cracked only slightly under his back. Jack took the brunt of the impact, and he landed before the entrance, barely keeping his balance.
“Is that enough?” asked the knight.
“Heh,” Jack replied. “I’m just getting started.”
He reached inside himself and tapped into the power of the Life Drop. Suddenly, energy flooded his body. His veins were overrun with molten iron, his bones turned to steel. Jack groaned as he grew a foot in height and two arms under his normal ones.
He hadn’t forgotten to use this form before. He just wanted to feel the power of an immortal head-on. To take a strike with his normal strength, and see just how far apart the two of them were.
A lot, it turned out. But the Life Drop brought a considerable increase in fighting power. Even if Jack couldn’t win, he could at least fight.
Now four-armed and pulsing with barely contained energy, Jack set his gaze on the knight. He looked at him dead straight. His body radiated intent to battle, and his muscles bulged in anticipation of the destruction they would wreak.
“Come,” he growled in a slightly deeper voice. “Let’s fight!”
The knight, meanwhile, was gaping. His old eyes had gone wide as saucers. “That’s— You have been chosen!” he cried out. “You carry His legacy! This is— Unbelievable! It’s still alive! The torch still burns!” He suddenly broke into laughter, loud and clear. “Thank you, young man, thank you! Even if you cannot defeat me, the hope you have given me today is the best gift I’ve gotten in a million years.”
“I want to ask you many things,” Jack said, “but I want to beat you first.”
“Don’t think I will go easy on you. If anything, I absolutely won’t let you cheat.”
“I never dreamt of that. Come, old man. I’ll kick your ass.”
“Old man?” the knight’s lips rose again, this time wildly. “I’ll make you eat those words, boy.”
“Hah. Try me!”
Jack laughed and charged. He fell deep into battle. This was it. The culmination of his journey so far. The greatest opponent he ever challenged. The greatest stage he ever stood on.
Victory would open the doors to greatness. Defeat would forever consign him to weakness. There had been people in the past who could beat this old man, that much was clear. If Jack couldn’t match them now, he would never surpass them, and the top of the world would be forever closed off to him.
He had to win. For his people, his planet, his Dao…and, most importantly, for himself.
To grab his fate with his own two hands, he needed power. This was the defining moment. He had to succeed.
Jack balled all four fists. A purple aura trailed him like he was a meteor himself—a manifestation of his overflowing Dao. As he charged, he resembled more a thrown fist than a man.
“Come!” the knight shouted. His eyes narrowed; finally, he took Jack seriously. He fell into a stance, with his mace to the side and his body diagonal. Jack didn’t recognize the stance, but it didn’t matter.
An immortal had taken him seriously. This was…extraordinary!
Jack reached the immortal. His fists flared like beacons. Color and sound were torn apart as they were sucked in four different directions at once, and the Iron Fist Style filled Jack’s body, guiding him to unleash the most of his potential.
Seeing the four Meteor Punches headed his way, the old man smashed out. His mace swung through the air in a perfect arc, seeking to break all four fists at the same time. Its head smashed into one fist, breaking its bones. For the second, it fractured them. The third stopped the mace in exchange for an injury. The fourth fist remained untouched. It flew through the air and exploded on the old man’s face like a meteor, breaking Jack’s hand as he sent the knight flying.
Jack didn’t even register the pain of his four injured hands. He had just blown away an immortal. He could do this. He could win. All it took was a perfect Dao Seed, extraordinary titles, four fused Dao Roots, and a gift of the Gods.
The final shred of doubt inside Jack was extinguished. He had so much power—for the first time, he realized that maybe he could win. His Dao roared like a revving engine, and all four of his roots operated at full power. He was a boiling furnace about to explode. He was overflowing with energy.
Life Dao flowed into his hands, healing them. The Life Drop’s energy in Jack’s body decreased by around a third—though its actual reserves were near limitless, the energy Jack could draw into himself was not. The more he drew, the harder it became. He had to utilize it effectively.
No more head-on clashes, he thought, still drunk in satisfaction. Let’s fight smart.
The knight stopped himself mid-air. Using the power of flight, which all immortals possessed, he hovered there, looking at Jack from above. Besides a bloody nose that was already healing, his face seemed unhurt from the strike.
“Tremendous power!” he acknowledged. “But will it be enough?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“Hah. Of course!”
The knight dove down. His speed remained tremendous, but Jack could glimpse it now, mere shadows and afterimages that indicated where the next strike would come from. He leaned back, letting the mace sail before his face. The wind pulled his now-longer hair back, threatening to overturn him. Jack steadied himself. The Iron Fist Style guided him, and his experience from fighting Copy Jack helped, too.
The knight swung again. The mace came diagonally from below. Jack twisted around it, adapting to the wind that he knew would come, turning to deflect while he threw a punch at the old man’s face. The knight, however, was not weak. He followed the momentum of his mace to reposition, turning and smashing a kick into Jack’s abdomen, nailing him into a distant column.
Jack lost all air in his lungs. The knight was on him instantly. Jack barely managed to duck before the mace crushed his head into paste, denting and cracking the entire column.
He was livid. This old man wasn’t playing around. If that attack had landed, Jack would be absolutely dead!
“Getting cold feet?” the knight said, jumping back to avoid Jack’s punch. “The world is violent, boy, and this is a battle. If you cannot handle it, go home.”
“Handle it? I am violence, old man. So what if I die? At least I will have followed my path!”
The old man grinned. As he stared him down, Jack realized that he was loving this. He loved that the old man was really trying to kill him. That he wasn’t holding back. That either of them could die at any moment.
The fear, the adrenaline, the tension… They reminded him of the time in the Forest of the Strong. The dungeon that had defined him. The experience that forged him into his present self. That helped him become who he was always meant to be.
This was Jack’s place in the world. Facing down an enemy with his life on the line. It was perfect.
His eyes must have conveyed all these thoughts, because the old man laughed. “I respect your resolve!” he said. “I will try my hardest to kill you. Come!”
Jack charged. The world became a battle. His vision closed in on his opponent. Time slowed down. His entire body was pumping Dao and power. He was an unstoppable machine of fistfighting.
He was the Fiend of the Iron Fist, and he would destroy this arrogant old man.
Brutalizing Aura oozed from every pore of his body. Jack felt the world warp around him as it struggled to accommodate his Dao. He felt his resolve and killing intent take on a physical form and smash into the old man, whose only reaction was to narrow his eyes. But Jack saw the momentary conflict in there. He saw the hint of his aura taking root.
At this moment, he had started a second war with the old man, this one on the level of their willpower. What was more absolute? Jack’s intent to kill his opponent, or the old man’s confidence?
After being upgraded, Brutalizing Aura could work on opponents of similar strength to Jack, just to limited extent. That was fine. A few tiny gaps was all he needed—gaps he could plug with his fists.
The old man slowed down by a hair. Faced with Jack’s fiendish assault, he actually adopted a defensive stance. Fists rained down. Every strike was enough to level hills and dent steel. Jack became a force of nature as he tore into the old man, who defended with all his power, using the body of his mace to intercept the punches. Clearly, his strength was superb. So was his skill. But so was Jack’s. He hadn’t spent tens of hours fighting Copy Jack for nothing.
Jack dug deeper. His four fists flowed out like the waves of the sea, carrying the ferocity of a falling mountain and the sharpness of a gale. The fists rotated in their attacks. When one retreated, another was always there to attack. To his surprise, Jack discovered that the Iron Fist Style—his fistfighting Dao Skill—had already adapted to the four fists he was currently wielding. His attacks formed a constant stream that gave the old man no room to breathe, let alone fight back.
Jack could fight an immortal head-on.
“Enough!” the knight shouted, letting a punch through. Jack more sensed than saw the incoming attack. He abandoned his own strike and ducked right as the mace swung where his head used to be, its strength and speed taken to a whole new level. “If you want to fight above your weight,” said the old man, his eyes spouting flames, “then so be it!”
Suddenly, a storm was born. The air whipped Jack’s face. His hair was pulled in all directions. A tremendous pressure fell on his soul, trying to suppress him, and all four Dao Roots had to work in tandem with his perfect Dao Seed to resist.
This was no longer just a mace-wielding old man. A silver aura erupted from his body, filling the hall like the domain of a god. It was intangible, yet made of steel. The world was dyed silver. Jack almost lost control of his Dao before wrestling it back, but it remained contained in the very edges of his body.
His body was his domain. Everything else was the old man’s. The entire hall was under his control.
“This is the power of an immortal, boy,” said the old man, his silver hair floating in an invisible wind and the head of his mace radiating a steely light. “You are worthy of facing it. Adapt or die!”
Comments
Stuart Dye
Thanks for the reply. So he could technically get another root then :).
Valerios
4 roots are the apex. I have implied the possibility of 5 roots in the past, but that was just a miscalculation on my part. I will remove it in editing. It's 4 roots + 1 seed = the perfect 5.
Stuart Dye
Was it 4 or 5 roots that make a someone a King? because Jack needs to be a King before he breaks through.
Jumping Flounder
dao of the underdog,
Baconwargod
I am so fucking ready right now
IndyBart
That would be awesome, that or breakthrough via combat that allows for the comeback victory lol.
Stuart Dye
5th root incoming?
Max Kendall
This cliffhanger is killing me! As always thanks for the chapter.
Tyler Babcock
There isn't by chance be a Patreon for the Patreon for even more advanced chapters? That or just a time machine to get the currently written chapters out right now?
Valerios
Wait until they see this next part
Jumping Flounder
salin, brock and nauja must be losing their minds right now.
wholock202
I’m literally sitting on the edge of my chair right now!!! NOW this is a great start of the week great job
