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Chapter 155: And Pushing Past
Chapter 155: And Pushing Past
Chapter 155: And Pushing Past
As the last of Jacks flame whisked away with a final spark of infinite sadness, gentle warmth filled his entire being, suffocating him, completing him, burying him under power the likes of which he couldnt even begin to imagine.
His world turned green, a plain of infinite vitality, a pond of life from which he was allowed to drink. His ruined body sucked in the life like a cracked desert absorbs the rain, drinking greedily, desperately. His numbness became infinite pain, filling his every corner. His stump of a shoulder sprouted new flesh, coiling around itself and tightening into an arm. His wounds closed, the skin regrowing and knitting itself shut.
And Jack Rust was made anew.
Suddenly, he snapped back into total lucidity. As the healing powers faded away, he was left flabbergasted.
His body, broken and mangled beyond recognition, had been completely restored. New, rosy skin had appeared over his wounds. His veins and arteries were filled with blood again. His heart was beating, strong as an ox, and his lungs were blissfully empty of liquids.
Even his cut-off arm had regrown. He flexed its fingers; they felt good as new, like they had always been there. Like the battle had been a dream. However, the sight of his previous arm in a puddle of blood served as a grim reminder of just how close to death he had come.
But he had pushed through.
He had survived. Succeeded.
Combat trial, passed, the voice said again, and this time, Jack imagined he heard a hint of approval in its tone. Withheld rewards presented.
Suddenly, a slew of notifications clustered Jacks vision.
Level up! You have reached Level 70.
Level up! You have reached Level 71.
Level up! You have reached Level 72.
Level up! You have reached Level 73.
Level up! You have reached Level 74.
Level up! You have reached Level 75.
Level up! You have reached Level 76.
Level up! You have reached Level 77.
Level up! You have reached Level 78.
Level up! You have reached Level 79.
Level up! You have reached Level 80.
He lost his breath. Hed never seen so many level-ups at the same time.
No wonder! he thought. No wonder I didnt get any level-ups during the battle The trial was holding them back, somehow. I didnt even know that was possible.
Despite his surprise and near-death experience, Jack didnt lose any time. He remembered that the voice had mentioned five trials; hed only been through four so far.
In the few seconds of peace, he quickly checked his status screen.
Name: Jack Rust
Species: Human, Earth-387
Faction: Bare Fist Brotherhood (E)
Grade: E
Class: Fiend of the Iron Fist (Elite)
Level: 80
Strength: 260 (+)
Dexterity: 260 (+)
Constitution: 290 (+)
Mental: 30 (+)
Will: 60 (+)
Free points: 55
Skills: Ghost Step (I)
Dao Skills: Meteor Punch (II), Indomitable Body (II), Iron Fist Style (I)
Daos: Perfect Dao Seed of the Fist (early), Dao Root of Indomitable Will (fused), Dao Root of Power
Titles: Planetary Frontrunner (10), Planetary Torchbearer (1), Second Ring Conqueror
This time, allocating them wasnt as simple as usual.
First, he decided to pour twenty points into Mental. This trial had emphasized that having no weaknesses was important, as had his previous run-ins with Mental and Will cultivators. He would have liked to raise it to 60, like Will, but this was about survival. Twenty points was already plenty.
Following Master Shols 8-1-1 distribution, he wouldnt need to reinvest in Mental until he reached four hundred points in the Physical attributes.
The remaining thirty-five points would go into Physical. However, would he allocate them uniformly, or would he emphasize Strength and Dexterity to balance Constitution?
He decided to balance.
These three were the Physical sub-stats, which meant that each attribute point counted as three sub-points when split between them. The math was slightly complex, but it was nothing to the current Jack.
He invested twenty of his remaining points into Physical. They became sixty sub-points, enough to raise Strength and Dexterity to 290, just like Constitution. Then, with a satisfied grin, he split the remaining fifteen points evenly.
Strength: 305
Dexterity: 305
Constitution: 305
Mental: 50
Will: 60
Over three hundred Physical. The average pre-System human had five. Jack felt strong like an elephant, dexterous like a snake, and durable like a steel wallbut without the intelligence of one.
The familiar surge of power coursed through his limbs, making the near-death experience fall away, replacing the dread with anticipation. He couldnt wait to test his new power against someonepreferably that minotaur whod dared slap Brock.
The voice chose this moment to ring again, drawing Jack back to the present.
You have proven the absence of weakness. You have proven strength. You have proven tenacity, intelligence, and a strong heart. You are worthy.
Suddenly, space fissured. Verdant green now floated before him, shaped as a droplet, but its small size was completely unable to hide its majesty. Jack was looking at an ocean of life, a well of inexhaustible energy, a Dao at a level far beyond anything hed ever seen. Even the Dao of the C-Grade planetary overseer, as hed experienced it when she suppressed him in the arena, was tiny compared to this drop.
At the start of the trial, the voice had mentioned a divine gift. Jack didnt know what this was, but if someone told him it was the power of gods, he would believe them.
Before he could think further, the drop flew inside him with tremendous speed. It crossed his skin like it was non-existent, diving into his body, his spirit. For the first time, he felt something approach his soul.
However, the voice boomed out again, grim in its tone, all those are nothing without an undying ambition, a will eternal, unbroken, unsatisfiable. You have succeeded in four of the trials, but the divine gift itself is the final crucible. If you cannot endure it, the powers of this place will heal your soul. You may exit and keep the benefits you have already received, but know that they are nothing compared to the true reward. Best of luck.
It was the first time the impassive voice gave him encouragement. Somehow, this scared Jack more than cold impassiveness.
The moment the voice finished ringing, he was plunged into hell.
The drop, whatever it was, finished seeping into his body. It spread across him from head to toes. It even invaded his mind. And then, it started pushing.
His entire body was covered in riveting pain. The drop was pushing into him from every direction, not compressing him, but sinking into his body like an iron anvil might sink into particularly thick quicksand. It made him feel elastic, impossibly bent. His every cell refused this invasion, but the drop persisted, slowly but surely demolishing his resistance.
Of course, the process was extremely painful. Jack felt like his body was disintegrating, slowly, from the outside inward.
His first reaction was to fight back. He gathered his focus and pushed against the drop, finding with surprise that he could easily resist it. He could even expel it. The pain abated as he pushed out, and Jack wanted nothing more than to keep pushing.
But with the absence of pain came lucidity. He remembered the voices words. If he accepted this gift, he would gain extreme power.
But was that worth the pain?
Jack closed his mouth, only now realizing he was screaming. Everything outside his body had long fallen away. He gnashed his teeth, wrestling against himself. The Dao Root of Indomitable Will came to his assistance, reinforcing his efforts, helping him control his impulses.
He stopped resisting. The drop started sinking again, as slowly as ever, its sweep though his body absolute. Not a single cell escaped. The hellish pain returned, consuming him, rupturing him.
His mouth flew open as he screamed, alone in a sealed stone cavern deep beneath the earth.
Jack felt despair. The pain was so great that he had to escape it, to do something right now. And the worst part is, he could. He could push the drop away. Escape the pain.
But if he did, he would fail. He would not have the power. He needed that.
It felt like he had split into two people. One was screaming and thrashing, enduring hellish torture. The other was holding the first Jack captive, pinning him to the ground and forcing him to endure the pain, keeping his entire body glued to an ovens burning iron no matter how the first Jack screamed.
Jack was his own torturer. His sense of self ruptured. Inflicting such misery on oneself made no sense. Why not release it? Why not escape?
And yet, he persisted. Blind stubbornness, indomitable will, a burning, unquenchable thirst for the power this pain would bring.
Why do you persist? he asked himself, screaming. Why do you do this to me?
The answer was not clear. It was inside him, however, and Jack pushed.
You are insane! We do not deserve this! Let me go!
NO!
Why!?
Jack screamed again, the sound not even registering. Every nerve in his body was firing off like firecrackers. Every synapse in his brain was flaring.
The drop was sinking through his body slowly. It was like a bubble closing around him, with his heart as the center. But even after all this time, it was nowhere near done.
Why!? One Jack demanded to know, while the other held his hands in a deathgrip around the neck of the first.
His thoughts were loose. His body was jelly. His sense of self was torn, and he struggled to make even the slightest of thoughts. All he knew was that he had to push through, he had to endure, and this was a desire that stemmed from somewhere deep inside him, from the very core of what made him Jack Rust. It came without thought, without consideration.
Why!? Jack screamed again, the voice echoing inside his own mind. Why!?
He did not know. He could not see that far inside him. Why did he fight? Why did he progress? Why did he force himself forward when all that lay between him and triumph was pain?
Why had he fought in the dungeon instead of lying down to die? Why had he joined the Tournament? Why had he stood up for what was right, refusing to be enslaved? Why had he cornered himself, running out to a hostile galaxy to fight against insurmountable odds?
Why could he not just yield and be happy?
Thats not happiness! the torturer Jack screamed back. Thats fake! Lies! Weakness! It is not my path!
That was the core, wasnt it? The path hed chosen, what hed forged himself into, the filter through which he saw the world. His desires were set. His soul was settled. He wanted to be this Jack Rust, not any other. The Jack who fought.
Why!? the tortured Jack insisted, desperate to know why he had to endure such pain.
Jack felt like it had been a century already, but the drop was only halfway through his body. His nerves were frayed, existing in an eternal state of pain. Could he persist all the way? He did not know. But he would try. His outer self was shed away, revealing his deepest core underneath.
He had almost run out of power. He wanted to resist, but he simply couldnt any longer. The drop was approaching completion, but could he last that much? He needed something to fuel him, to support him. Why did he fight? He dug deep inside himself, striving to find the core-most reason and grab on to it like a drowning man on a floating log.
Why!? his thoughts screamed again, his fear, his despair, his weakness.
At the end of his rope, he found the reason.
Because compared to the pain of being weak, this is nothing.
When all else was shed away, this was all that remained. This was Jack Rust. A man who would never yield, never give up, never stop striving for greatness. A man who had seen through the lies he told himself. And he knew.
Without strength, without freedom, life was meaningless.
He remembered the times before the Integration. He was leading a dull life, simply floating along without power, without initiative, without control over his life. He always smiled and nodded, playing by the rules, seeking societys approval, burying himself deeper into the hurtful facade. The Integration had hurt, but it had shown him a way outa way that always existed, even before the Integration, but he was too weak of heart to pursue it.
Now that he saw the truth, he could never go back. He did not want to return to those days. He was afraid of them, and of the person he used to be.
He wanted power. Freedom. Without those, he might as well die.
And the world had listened to his wishes. It had provided him the opportunity. If he gave up now, if he betrayed himself at this critical juncture, he would never recover. His will would be shattered. He would forever remain weak.
He anchored himself to this truth, holding on with tooth and nail, using his despair as fuel to grab on harder.
The pain did not abate, but the tortured Jack stopped resisting, accepting his fate and why it had to be so. Torturer and tortured became the same. He was one again, a unity of will and pain centered around one axis: Strength. Freedom. True life.
The pain came in crashing waves. Jack felt it all, but he no longer suffered as much. He knew he would not relent. He would persist until he died. That resolve took a weight off his chest, turning him into a rock at sea, always battered by waves but never budging, never relenting. His screams became a natural part of the world as his mind receded in a shell of acceptance, watching his own pain as if from afar.
It could have been a second or a year. Jack had no way to tell.
Until everything came to an end.
The pain disappeared. Jack was no longer in a stone cavern. In fact, he no longer had a body. He was in a vision similar to those he got from his Classes, but the scenery was on a whole other level.
He wasnt on a planet anymore. He was in space, surrounded by broken stars and swirling vortexes.
And, right in front of him, the entire world was dark, like someone had stuck a black sticker in the center of his vision.