The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) by Craig Kobayashi (ereader android TXT) 📕

from her knees on to her back and looked into the sky. Birds continued to sing to the morning and a comforting breeze graced her face, then her vision dimmed to a blurry vignette and she blacked out.

Chapter 12

Doing Better

When Athios came to, Garath was leaning over her with a panicked expression plastered on his face. He was back in human form and held the bloodied scimitar in one hand and an Endless Potion of Healing in the other. His glowing eyes and intense features scared the shit out of the Dimensionalist and she screamed.

"Bahhh!"

"Are you okay?" the Necrologist asked her, his panicked expression softening into relief even as Athios scrambled back and away from him. She was okay.

The Fel Hound circled protectively around them, its nose probing the air for any sign of danger. The respawn time had elapsed for the undead on the roof while Athios was out and seven Fetid Ghouls replaced the seven they had just killed.

"I got this," Garath told her, shifting again into House Cat form. He focused his will into the instant cast of Blight. A dark purple energy shot out from his diminutive body in every direction, landing a poison debuff on five of the seven Ghouls without sparing a thought for the Tainted Soul cost. All five turned on him with their weapons raised the second the purple energy entered their bodies.

In his nimble form, the Necrologist pounced at the feet of the closest Ghoul and started weaving between its bony legs, easily dodging the clumsy swings of scimitar after scimitar. The DoT (damage over time) of his Blight and the friendly fire of scimitars aimed at the evasive feline chipped away at the Health of every Ghoul on the roof. The two Ghouls unaffected by Blight jumped to action shortly after the fight began, joining their comrades in a deadly game of slap 'n’ tickle - the armored undead simply lacked the Dexterity to land a hit on the quick little creature. The Fel Hound performed its role with enthusiasm, biting down hard on whatever limbs or chainmail it could fit in its mouth. Athios watched in bemusement as her Health bar refilled with a drink from her own Endless Potion of Healing.

When the thirty-second cooldown for Blight came to an end, Garath cast it again - infecting all seven of the Ghouls desperately trying to kill him. After that it was a simple game of rinse and repeat until the final hit points of the undead on the roof ticked away. Garath jumped to the highest part of the building and bathed in the experience points flowing into his tiny form. It was amazing; the energy and power of their lives surged into him, making him stronger. Had it felt like this when he made kills in human form? Was it a part of fighting in cat form? They were nature's little murderers after all. Or could it be a part of Tainted Soul? Whatever the reason, he couldn’t care less. All Garath wanted was more.

From his perch atop the chimney, Garath heard raised voices and turned his gaze to the street below. Every Fetid Ghoul within 50 meters of the school had crowded the building entrance, where they had basically formed a queue to be slaughtered by the group of fighters that had been growing stronger all morning. Outside of the apparent aggro proximity, thousands of undead wandered the streets aimlessly searching for a beating heart to snuff out. It didn’t take Garath very long to locate the source of the raised voices.

A large man was leading a single-file line of frightened children down Hoyt Ave toward the school. He was moving at a trot, slamming a broad kite-shield into Ghoul after Ghoul - each blow inflicting minimal damage, but the concussive force knocked the rickety undead off their feet and stopped them in their tracks with some kind of stun debuff. The undead soldiers that had been knocked to the ground would get back on their feet after just a few seconds, and then join the growing horde hot on the heels of the shield wearer and the children in his wake. Garath looked intently at Athios.

*Can you transport them up here?* he asked the Dimensionalist urgently in the mental communication he was starting to adjust to in House Cat form.

*No. My transportation spell for allies is limited to Party or Raid group members,* she projected back.

*Then you could transport me down there?* he asked.

*Well, yeah, but...* she started.

*Do it,* he commanded.

A white disk sucked Garath in his feline form through a tear in space, relocating him two-meters off the ground and directly above the group of scared children scurrying behind the large man. As he fell, the children moved forward beneath him and the Necrologist landed between them and the Ghouls charging close behind. The Fel Hound tore this way and that across the roof, whining and looking for a way down to assist its master.

Garath focused his will and released the instant cast of Blight as the mass of Ghouls got within range.A deep purple energy exploded again from his slight form, infecting every Ghoul in the spell’s three-meter radius. The ravenous undead soldiers continued right passed Garath, ignoring him completely in their pursuit of the small Party - until the first tick of Blight’s damage-over-time ripped Health away from them. As one, the horde looked down at the puny creature that dared to poison them, and lurched to attack. Again their swings struck nothing but air and gravel and the bones of their allies as Garath darted between several pairs of rotting legs.

Several prompts appeared and minimized his vision, but Garath didn't even notice in the chaos of the fight. He continued to bring up the rear of the escort casting Death Bolt(s) when able and Blightas his Mana regeneration and the Skill’s cooldown allowed. He found that he wasn't able to access the Items panel, or the contents of