Road to Mastery: A LitRPG Apocalypse

Chapter 317: The Power of a Big Bro

Chapter 317: The Power of a Big Bro

Brock faced off Alexander Petrovic. He held the Staff of Stone in one hand and the Bro Code in the other, while his entire being exuded power and wisdom. Everybody watching got an urge to look up to him. Many did. Most resisted. Only Alexander himself did not feel that urge, as his heart had frozen over by true ice, and his emotions were very weak.

Brock slapped the Bro Code shut with his fingers, then let it wink out of existence. In the name of Father and all bros, he declared in a booming voice, die!

He shot up. This time, he did not use Density to fly. The world itself gave way, as gravity was unworthy of constraining an immortal. His brown fur fluttered through the air. The tip of his staff whistled. His eyes were wide open in righteous rage, and he smashed upward with all the strength of his enhanced muscles.

Brock and his staff flew upward like missiles.

Alexander raised a hand. The air froze. A large wall of ice materialized instantly between him and Brock, and as the staff blasted into it, the wall cracked but did not break. Brock roared and punched it. The cracks spread. The wall shattered. Brock flew through, staff still extended and glowing golden, but Alexander was gone.

Ice spikes rained from the sky. Hundreds of them, each sharp and durable. Brock span his staff in the air, catching them all, but he missed the appearance of Alexander below him. A sword rose true; Brocks fur was matted with blood, barely saving his leg but taking a wild scrape on the shin. He rushed upward with Alexander in tow.

Fall! he shouted, grabbing the staff with both hands and smashing it downward. Alexander slashed up with both his swords. The three weapons met mid-air, one exuding dignity and the others coldness. Their clash was cataclysmic. The air froze and shattered. A booming shockwave flew in all directions. The cultivators on the battlefield below covered their ears as their clothes fluttered wildly.

The staff and swords pushed into each other, none giving way. They pressed harder. Brock gave it his all. Suddenly, the four ice wings of Alexander spread wide. Though his face remained expressionless, the temperature around them plummeted. Even Brock felt his fur ice over. He was forced to disengage, letting Alexander take the better of him and blast him away.

Fool, Alexander gloated, chasing Brock higher into the sky. My Dao counters yours. You practice Will elements, to which I am resistant. You fight in close quarters, in which I can delay you until you freeze. Just how will you fight me?

I will because I must! Brock retorted. Letting himself spin in mid-air, he held his staff close and accelerated until his spinning was a blur. He then controlled his flight to ram straight into Alexander. Spin Smash!

Ice wall.

A wall even greater than the previous one materialized. Brocks spinning form crashed into it, digging away at the true ice and shattering it, but he was delayed. Alexander flew away and willed a storm of ice spikes to appear, flying straight at Brock. This time, he could not block everything. Nasty gashes appeared on his forearms, none bleeding, as ice caked over the wounds. He could handle this much, but any mortal would have already frozen over.

Brock glared at Alexander from behind his crossed arms. His eyes held bloodthirst. He was furious and pained, determined. Hed had the advantage before they both broke through, but not anymore. It wasnt a matter of power. What Alexander said was true: between their two Daos, Brocks was countered.

But he refused to let that stop him. He would take revenge.

He just needed to get creative.

The new control he possessed over the ambient Big Thoughts was confusing. He wasnt yet used to it, but he could try.

Air bros, he spoke to the air, help me!

Air itself tightened around Alexander. His ice spread out, but it met more resistance this time. It moved slower, and Brock did not.

He whistled through the air. He reached Alexander and smashed him, controlling his staff in an intricate, brutal dance. His strikes were no longer made at full power, as he didnt want to get caught at an impasse again. Instead, he flew around Alexander, incorporating his own flight path into the staff movements.

The Staff of Stone flew back and over his head, crashing towards Alexander. Two ice wings blocked it, too hard to shatter, but the staff was already gone. It flew to the right, then its other end rose from below. Alexander blocked with one sword and slashed with the other. Brock ducked under it, enduring the cold, and stabbed the rear end of his staff into the opponents stomach.

Alexander flew back. Brock followed, pelting him with strikes from every direction. However, ice was left where Alexander flew, and that ice suddenly came alive to strike at Brock like hidden vipers. His shoulders and thighs were bitten. More patches of ice appeared on his brown fur. Brock roared and pushed through, pressing on with his assault, smacking Alexander again and again.

The swords and wings defended, but there was only so much they could do. Brock was a maelstrom, and Alexander was part mage. Finally, the staff broke through, smashing into the side of Alexanders ice helmet with enough strength to level hills. The man flew away. His head shook inside the helmet, but though his ice armor cracked, it protected him.

Brock could not afford to show mercy. Even as Alexander flew away from the impact, he pursued, spinning his staff in the air and bringing it down with a fearsome cry. This time, however, Alexander fought back. The ice covering his arm extended. It turned from just an ice gauntlet into a massive, nine-foot-long and three-foot-wide claw of ice, which grabbed at Brocks staff. It cracked by the impact, but it managed to immobilize the staff.

No! Brock exclaimed. Spikes of ice flew at him from the left and right, but he couldnt dodge. If he let go of his weapon, it was over. Muscle bros, give me strength! he shouted. His biceps doubled and tripled in size. He pulled with all his strength, finally succeeding in dislodging the staff, but at a cost. The ice spikes met his fur. They didnt penetrate too deep, but he was now riddled with a dozen shallow injuries, all of which frosted over.

At least, I not bleeding, Brock said, panting. By now, he was injured in many places, but Alexander looked almost the same as when theyd started.

You lack the power to break through my defenses, the man declared, looking down at Brock from a greater height. You can persist if you want, but I will just wear you down. It is futile.

Never stopping, Brock said through gritted teeth. He set his jaw and trained his gaze on his opponent. He would fight to the death.

He charged again. His staff shone with golden light, carrying even greater power than before, but it was slower in return. The ice was always there. First the wall, then the spikes, then the growing ice on Alexanders body and the armor. His defense was just too strong.

Brock cracked his staff in, denting Alexanders armor under the armpit, but it wouldnt cause more than a bruise. In return, a hand of ice stretched out of Alexanders real arm, sinking its claws into Brocks leg and pulling.

Fur, blood, and meat went flying. Tendons were ripped. The wound instantly froze over, preventing further bleeding, but Brock was forced to retreat. Half his outer thigh was missing.

He did not scream, but his gaze darkened.

Is that enough? Alexander asked.

Never enough.

Again, Brock charged. His staff became a hurricane. This time, it was swift and elusive, its trajectory blurring through the air as Brock alternated its density between high and low. The ice wall cracked under his might. The swords slashed out but missed their mark. He scored a hit on Alexanders ribs, but that was the end of his staffs elusivity. The air around them froze over. Brock flew back, but ice spikes flew in from behind him and pierced shallowly into his back.

He groaned.

By now, Brocks fur was a mix of white and brown. Ice covered several patches on his body, slowly colored red by his blood, while his eyes were equally bloodshot. His teeth were chattering from the cold. The true ice had seeped into his burning heart, freezing it over bit by bit. Already, he could sense his blood flow decelerate. He felt slow and lethargic, as if the great beyond was beckoning.

He told it to shut the fuck up.

Sun bro! he shouted. Shine brighter!

The air composition changed. The sunlight filtered through more easily, shining on Brock and Alexander, but its effect on the true ice was minimal. Explosions came from the battlefield below, but Brock didnt have time to look.

Your powers are intriguing but useless, Alexander mocked him in a matter-of-factly tone. He brandished both swords. Ice Domain.

Suddenly, the entire sky froze overor, at least, the patch of sky around Brock. He was encased in ice. Willing his bro aura to spread out, he became a golden sun, his burning resolve seeping into the ice and melting it. Ice and heat warred against each other, each struggling to emerge superior. Finally, Brock released himself, but the entire block of ice around him shattered, showering him in sharp fragments. He shielded his face, feeling the ice slash and stab into his body. In an instant, he became bloodied, losing his breath.

An attack crashed down from above. He barely raised his staff in time to block both descending swords, but their momentum was too strong. Brock flew downward like a meteor, crashing into the concert stage and cratering it. He remained there, panting and bloodied. He still had energy to fight, but not muchand his mind was dry of ideas.

Nothing he tried worked. Just how could he face this man?

Alexander hovered in the sky, an archangel of cold death with four wings, looking down on Brock. Goodbye, he said. Raising one sword, a colossal ice spike materialized in the air. It was thrice as tall as himself and six feet wide at the base.

Brock wanted to run away and dodge, but to his horror, he realized he couldnt move. The ice had seeped too deep. His blood was slow, his reactions numb, his limbs unresponsive. Twitching his fingers and blinking was the best he could do as Alexanders strongest attack formed above him, an executioners blade ready to fall.

My bros he thought to himself. Im sorry.

He wasnt afraid of his own death. It was the fate of his bros that worried him. Dog bro, girl bro, big sis, the bro army, the brorilla bros If Brock couldnt stop Alexander, everyone on the battlefield around him would die. That man was just too strong. There were stronger bros in the sky, including Big Bro, but none could help now. The ice man would slaughter everyone.

And Brock was powerless to stop him.

A manly tear escaped his eye as he imagined that this must have been exactly how Father felt. Immobile and powerless, lying on the ground as the ice man was about to slaughter his little bros. At least, it seemed that Brock wouldnt be forced to watchbut that was a cowards relief.

He had to stop the ice man, but he couldnt. He had to get revenge, but he couldnt. He had to obey the Bro Code, but he couldnt!

Brock opened his mouth and unleashed a loud monkey cry, filled with his frustration and grief. The entire battlefield echoed. He sensed the spirits of his bros rousing, but none of them could help. He even sensed Big Bro try to fly down, but he was stopped.

That was okay. Nobody should arrive to save him. This was Brocks moment, his opportunity to rise or dieand he had failed.

It is over, Alexander said, sending his gigantic spike flying straight down.

Was it wrong? Brock thought in his final moments. Was my Grand Thoughtwrong?

Because what else could it be? Brock was not weaker than the ice man. His Grand Thought was not weaker than his opponents, just countered. But how could true power be countered? The only explanation was that Brocks Grand Thoughtwas wrong.

But how? he asked himself, knowing that his Grand Thought was condensed and unchangeable. It feel too right to be wrong.

Deep inside himself, the Grand Thought of Brohood rang absolutely true. It was undeniable, and it was his. He could even feel the connection to all his bros, invisible tethers that spread out of him and into them, no matter how far away they were. How could such a thing be false? How could it be a mistake?

But if Grand Thought not wrongthen I must be wrong.

Brocks eyes widened. Was he using his Grand Thought wrongly? He thought back to the battle so far. Since hed broken through, he was constantly unveiling new possibilities. Hed discovered he could ask the air bros for assistance, and that he could exude his dignity as a golden sun that only burned warmly.

Could there be something more?

But what?

The moment he thought about it, Brock instantly knew the answer. The book in his soul shone, flipping to a certain page. On it, with clear, bold letters, it said, A bro is never alone.

Suddenly, Brock started laughing. Of course! He had this all wrong! A bro had to be powerful, yes, but never alone! That was exactly why bros existed. What a fool he was!

But no more a fool. Suddenly, the brorilla was gone, and in his place was the big bro, shining in all his glory. Brock found his body glowing again. The ice weakened. He stood up, but he did not run to escape the ice spike. Alexander frowned, but Brock only looked up and reached inside his soul. Touching every tether tying him to his bros, he spoke into all of them at once.

Little bros, he asked, eyes glowing golden, lend me your power!

The brorillas on the battlefield suddenly felt a calling inside their soul. They heard Brocks voice. Without thinking, they followed their instinct to raise their head towards the concert stage and siphon all the power they could into the soul connection they didnt even know possessed.

They believed in Brock.

It wasnt just the brorillas on the battlefield. Back in the Forest of the Strong, where Harambe was tended to by his gymonkey partner, Aya, both felt a calling. Both turned their heads in the direction of the Integration Starship and gladly contributed their power.

In a forest of Asia, a pack of small dogs stood victorious over a dozen dead tigers. They were Brocks dog bros from the Integration Tournament. Suddenly, all of them looked to the side, and longing appeared in their hearts. They contributed.

In Trial Planet, the blue crabs of Labyrinth Ring felt the calling and gave their power. So did the beasts of Garden Ring, including a nostalgic sphinx.

The remaining bro army on Outer Planet felt the same calling and instantly lent their power, shouting out, Big bro!

The bro army on the battlefield also complied, summoning any remaining vestiges of their power and pushing it inside the link. Even Nauja and Gan Salin felt the same, and both laughed as they siphoned their power to Brock.

Ever since the beginning, even without knowing it, Brock had practiced the Dao of Brohood. He had made bros across the entire galaxy, both strong and weak. Now, all of them were part of his power. He never stood alone. Bros together strong.

The only one not summoned to assist was Jack, as he was Brocks big bro, not his little bro.

Each individual bro gave Brock a tiny bit of power, but they were many. It added up. The ice spike was still falling, but Brock felt a rush of power enter his soul. It was far more than he possessed alone. He was overwhelmed. His entire body radiated intense golden light, and his every cell ached as it endured more power than it was meant to.

Brock was submerged in a burning vat of pain as his body struggled not to crumble, but it didnt matter. He laughed out loud, a clear, ringing sound. This was how it was meant to be. He was the big broand this was his power!

The ice spike crashed down. Brock balled his fist and punched it right at the tip. The world screeched to a halt. The ice spike shattered instantly from end to end. Golden light erupted, and when everybody could see again, Brock was no longer there.

Alexander did not think. He flew backward, barely dodging a staff that crashed down from the sky. How? he shouted, summoning walls of ice to his defense, but it was useless. Brock laughed. His staff smashed forward, radiating golden light like a new sun, and the true ice was helpless before it. The wall shattered instantly. The ice spikes melted. The hand of ice shattered under the impact, and Brocks staff met Alexanders chest, sending him flying away as he howled in pain.

He came to a stop an entire mile away. How? he screamed again, finally revealing a bit of emotion. The weaker he got, the weaker the hold of true ice over his heart. How can you be this strong!?

Brock laughed againa carefree, powerful sound. I told you, he replied, standing in the sky like a righteous god. You lived alone, so you die alone. But I His face broke into the widest, most relieved, most monkeyish grin possible. I have my bros!

Alexanders face warped. Absurd! he exclaimed. Your body cant take that kind of power! My defenses are absolute. You will break before I do!

He encased himself in ice. Sphere after sphere formed around him, wrapping him in ever greater cold, and even his domain superimposed itself over the ice, enhancing its durability. He was now trapped inside a new moon in the middle of the sky made entirely of ice.

Brock laughed again. Alexanders words were true. This power was far too large for his current body. His muscles were tearing, his tendons were taut, his entire body was cramping. The pain was excruciating. Yet, he did not care. He was a bro. A man. He would do what had to be done no matter the cost, and in this case, he did it with pleasure.

He pulled both hands back, letting his staff hover in mid-air. The wrists came together. The palms spread wide. This is for Father, he declared as wave after wave of golden power materialized between his palms. For Big Sis and unborn bro. For all my bros. For brohood.

The power gathered between his palms grew so intense that it felt like he was grabbing hot iron, but it did not matter. Before this victory, a little pain was nothing. The light flared ever brighter, becoming a sun between his palms. Finally, when all the power of his bros was siphoned in and he could no longer take it, Brock shot his hands forward, unleashing all that energy in a straight line.

Bro Beam!

The air thundered with his shout as it did with the beam of pure, inviolable power. It seared the air itself. It crashed into the large sphere of ice, instantly immolating its surface and digging in. So what if it was true ice? So what if Alexanders domain was enhancing it? Before the sheer momentum of brohood, this ice was nothing!

All the ice spheres shattered. Alexanders scream came from within as he burned in a cloud of pure power. Brock saw his body tumble from the sky to crash into the concert stage, catching glimpses of broken wings and shattered swords. Alexander lay in a cloud of dust that hid his body, unconscious and helpless. The bro beam dissipated, revealing a clear, sunny sky.

The breeze blew. Brock stood in the sky, sunrays falling over his half-iced fur, panting and in terrible pain. On the ground below, Alexanders blond, bloodied hair was sprawled against the white stone, and his icy blue eyes were closed.

In the battle between Brock and Alexander PetrovicBrock had won!

But it was not enough.

Brock flew down to reach Alexanders body. Its ice armor had already dissipated. He grabbed Alexander from both upper arms and raised him high. Wake, he commanded. His Dao shot into Alexanders body, assaulting his heart.

Alexander awoke with a gasp. Brocks fierce fangs and burning eyes were an inch away from his face. He instantly realized what had happened, and his face was clouded by fearthough, whether it was real or not, only he could tell.

I surrender, he cried out weakly.

Brock bared his fangs. You tortured and humiliated Father, he declared, speaking each word with gravity. You attacked unborn bro. You betrayed and harmed your planet bros. You weak, coward, shame. You dont deserve to breathe.

Alexanders eyes widened in terrorreal one, this time. What about your honor? he asked. I surrender!

You deserve no honor.

Brock bared his brorilla fangs and bit deep into Alexanders throat. He tasted the blood, the flesh. It was cold. He clenched his teeth and pulled away, taking with him the mans entire throat.

Alexanders eyes still gaped in disbelief, but his body tumbled to the ground, and his head was still in Brocks hands. He let it drop, then shattered it under his foot. Alexander Petrovic, the leader of the Ice Peak, was no more.

This is for Father, Brock whispered, gazing at the corpse. He took no joy in thisbut it was the only right thing he could do. Then, leaving the headless body on the ground, he let himself fall on his back. His entire body remained in pain and broken. He was barely alivemoving any more was impossible, but at least he had won.

He grinned as he stared at the sky, where his Big Bro was fighting. For the first time, Brock had carried his own weight around Big Bro. He had fought his own battle and won. His bloodied face broke into the widest, manliest, yet almost childlike monkey grin.

Hed never been prouder.