Chapter 421: Searching the Comet

Chapter 421: Searching the Comet

Jack sat cross-legged in his room. Simple walls surrounded him, fitted with a wide window which overlooked the vastness of space. Endless stars twinkled. They gathered in rivers, stamping their presence into the cosmos as the arms of Jack’s home galaxy—the Milky Way.

Despite the beauty, however, Jack’s eyes were closed. He wasn’t looking out, but in.

Life and Death.

Space and Time.

These were the Daos on which he focused. Life was represented by the Fist, and still remained the core of his Dao. Death was the antithesis to life, a necessary component to comprehending it, and Jack’s understanding into this concept had benefited greatly thanks to Master Boatman. As for space and time, while they had begun as supplementary Daos, they had taken up more of his attention after acquiring Archon Green Dragon’s inheritance.

Most people focused on one Dao. If they were particularly ambitious, they might choose a set of interconnected concepts, such as space and time. Very few would have the courage to cultivate two sets of Daos, because reaching mastery in even one was a herculean task—why would they further split their attention? At the same time, a second set of Daos was considered unnecessary, as a single one was enough to reach very deep into the cultivation road.

For these reasons, very few people would choose to do what Jack did. Even extreme individuals like Elder Boatman or Archon Green Dragon chose one point of focus.

Jack, however, had a striking difference compared to everyone else; he was not born in the System world. He hadn’t grown up studying the possible paths of progression and what his predecessors did. In a normal B-Grade or A-Grade influence, the young cultivators were discouraged from biting off more than they could chew because it was a road extremely unlikely to work. In ten thousand extreme talents, perhaps not even one would succeed. Any faction would rather cultivate a group of decently powerful individuals than stake its entire existence on a tiny chance of overwhelming success.

Jack had never been conditioned like that. Since the start of his journey, he had carved a path of perfection with his own two hands, and staking everything on himself was the natural decision. Even if his path was difficult, he would still choose to pursue perfection, because that was who he was.

After cultivating for several years to his present power, he could sense that a single Dao was not enough to reach perfection. Life and Death were not all-encompassing. They mostly pertained to the soul, but their ability to influence the physical world was limited. Therefore, spacetime was perfectly suited for him—it provided him with much-needed utility and also rounded out his Dao. In the future, if he pushed all his Daos to perfection, he would be able to create a system of understanding that contained the entire world.

Of course, such perfection was astoundingly difficult to achieve, or others would have done it already. While Jack was brave, he was not reckless. He had chosen this difficult road because he truly had the capital.

His soul and Dao of the Fist had been tempered through the endless difficulties he’d experienced. His willpower was unyielding. He had the Life Drop for the Dao of Life, the death cube as well as Boatman’s guidance for the Dao of Death, and the inheritance of an Archon for spacetime. Any single one of those would be enough to produce at least a peak B-Grade—when combined together, and added onto Jack’s own prowess, he had the courage to reach for the sky.

These four high-level Daos, combined with his highly tempered body, were the reasons for his overwhelming strength.

Today, he sat with the death cube in his hands. He no longer needed to look at it—the lines were mostly memorized, and just brushing them with his perception was enough to bring anything to the fore.

This death cube was an item Master Boatman had given him, and on which he placed tremendous importance. Jack still had no idea what exactly it was or how it had been produced—but what he did know was that the death cube was a highly mystical existence.

Even after all this time, it remained filled with insights. The 999 lines each represented a life and a death—when one learned how to read them, each line hid a wealth of knowledge, as they were the patterns which defined the cycle. However, the greatest benefit of this cube weren’t the many insights it contained, but the ingeniousness with which these insights had been arranged.

There was always something to find out. Meditating on a line gave insights—but, if he increased his understandings and returned to the same line, he would find more insights hidden inside. Just as he mastered one insight, a new one would appear on the cube, and the progression was so linear that Jack’s understanding into death advanced at a terrific pace. Let alone him, even if someone more average took ahold of this death cube, they would still be able to advance tremendously.

No wonder Master Boatman had seemed so reluctant to part with it and had even left a wisp of his soul inside. This thing was like a step-by-step guide to the Dao of Death.

My Dao of Death has almost caught up with Life. Soon, I will need to focus back on the Fist... Jack thought. His eyes slowly opened, while his lips curled. Perfect.

He enjoyed cultivating. But it was only the Fist, the core of his being, which truly fulfilled him. Everything else was secondary.

Just as he was about to return to meditation, a voice reached his mind. “Jack,” said Nauja. “We’re approaching. Are you coming?”

“Is this supposed to be shining?” Salin suddenly asked. Everyone turned around to find him gazing at the broken teleporter. Looking closely, a tiny spark flickered in its center.

“No,” Nauja replied, her eyes widening. “That’s...certainly not supposed to happen.”

There were many kinds of teleporters. Hastily constructed ones, like the one before them, needed a large amount of energy to operate and couldn’t form a stable connection to other teleporters. That was why nobody had bothered to search it before.

Jack jumped forward, instantly arriving to the teleporter. His hopes were rekindled. Could Shol have left a message inside?

“Careful!” Nauja shouted, arriving beside him, but she was too late. Jack had already reached out to touch it. As soon as he made contact, a single spark shot out—and then the entire teleporter exploded in a mass of fiery death. The meteor disintegrated under their feet. Spatial fluctuations flooded their surroundings, while Jack barely had time to form a shield and protect them from the explosion.

A mix of feelings ran through his heart. He wasn’t injured, but the teleporter had exploded. There was no road to Earth here. He was trapped away from his family. It was only after he went through the sadness that he realized the explosion had been far too large—far too artificial. Somebody had flooded this teleporter with energy and kept it right at the edge of exploding.

They were close to Hell. Though they had avoided all guards before, such an explosion would be easily noticed.

This was a trap!

Everyone glanced at each other, arriving at the same conclusion. “Quick!” Jack said, taking out the bromobile. They entered it instantly, but teleporting away took time. Moreover, the explosion had contained spatial ripples specifically designed to disturb space around them and delay the process.

They needed time. Time they wouldn’t have. Jack could already sense light tremors in space as powerful cultivators were approaching at high speed.

“I will delay them!” he shouted, shooting out of the bromobile. “Charge up the teleportation!”

Space parted before he even finished his words. Animal people emerged. Some were leonines, some canines, some sharkens, eaglers, or elefs—all five noble families of the Animal Kingdom were present. Moreover, these weren’t young elites—they were aged, their eyes filled with dignity and their bodies exuding immense power.

As Jack swept his perception over them, his heart chilled. These people were all at the middle C-Grade and above—they were Elders of the Animal Kingdom.

This wiped away all doubts about the exploding teleporter being an accident. There was no way the Animal Kingdom had so many Elders on standby. This was a trap—a trap specifically meant for him. And, in his single moment of weakness in several years, he had walked right into it.

Jack gritted his teeth, but such was the cultivation world. It didn’t matter how fierce you were, how carefully you’d handled everything in the past, or if you were filled with grief and at your most vulnerable moment. Triumph and defeat were separated by a single line—one mistake could kill.

Amongst the many Elders surrounding Jack, a leonine with flowing red hair stepped forward. His cultivation was at the peak C-Grade, and he wasn’t weak for his level either. This was the Animal Kingdom’s Grand Elder—an existence only below the B-Grade Ancestors.

“Jack Rust...” he said, his eyes sparking hatred. “Give up. You are already dead.”

Jack snorted. At this point, holding back was pointless. An ocean of power erupted from his body, flooding the surrounding space and even washing away the auras of all the Elders present. His body grew taller and two extra arms protruded from under his armpits.

These Elders were incredibly powerful people...but Jack was not the weak D-Grade he’d once been. Now, he was strong as well—strong enough to match a B-Grade, let alone these people.

“Do you really think you can kill me?” he asked.

The Grand Elder’s smile grew wider. “No,” he admitted. “But we can delay you. It doesn’t matter how powerful you are. This is our territory, and stronger people are already on the way. If you want to escape before they arrive...” His eyes flared. “That is impossible!”