The Tree of Ascension: A LitRPG Apocalypse (Peril's Prodigy Book 2) by Craig Kobayashi (ebook reader 7 inch TXT) 📕

Garath ducked and covered his face with his arms, but the contact Garath was expecting never came. He opened his eyes in confusion, looking to see where the creature had gone, then felt something land on the top of his head. The Necrologist shook it off, arms flailing in every direction, looking for all the world like someone with bats in their hair. A second later, Garath got himself together and the flying mutant landed on the moss-covered log beside him.

The abomination of nature looking up at him was only about the size of a toaster oven. The pudgy creature had wings, but if Garath hadn't just seen it flying, he wouldn't have believed it could. Its head was covered in thick brown fur and a small, triangular yellow beak poked out between two black eyes. Its body was covered in the same fur, but black and brown feathers erupted out of the hair at seemingly random locations. The fat, furry bird-creature cocked its head at him questioningly. Shortly after, Garath received and accepted a Party invitation, and everything made a whole heap more sense.

You have joined Auto’s Party.

*The fuck are you looking at?* asked a very familiar voice inside Garath’s mind.

Garath erupted into laughter. "Well that depends," he said between chortles, "on whether you're just being a dick, or if you legitimately need help identifying this perversion of nature that you've created."

The little creature puffed up its chest and spread its silly, fur covered wings expansively. *I'm calling this one the 'sbearow',* Auto told his friend proudly.

"Sparrow-bear?" asked Garath.

*So you are more than just a pretty face. Speaking of, your face always been so pretty?* Auto asked, likely in reference to the glowing eyes and oversized incisors.

Garath smiled toothily and gestured to his whole body. "This kind of pretty doesn't just happen without divine intervention, homie."

He thought about what he’d said for a second and realized that his slightly demonic features had kind of 'just happened'. Could the apocalypse be classified as divine intervention?

Garath looked up into the cloudless sky, but there was no sign of the other three members of Auto's group.

"Where your boys at?" Garath asked the sbearow. "And, for fuck’s sake, will you please get out of that form? It's ridiculous and I don’t want to look at it anymore.”

*This form,* said Auto, puffing up his fluffy chest again, *is why I made it here before them. I get the plus fifty percent aerial movement speed of a sparrow AND the plus fifty percent stam, endurance, and strength of a bear. They had to stop and rest.*

"I'm not talking to you until you take a less ridiculous form," Garath said with one eyebrow raised and his arms folded across his chest.

The sbearow shimmered and elongated. When Garath saw his old friend in the flesh for the first time, he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

Auto looked almost exactly like the mental picture Garath had constructed for him over the past decade of hearing his voice while they gamed together. He was short, barely 5'5" with the slight build common in Asian gamers. His dark, almond-shaped eyes looked judgmental, but the smile on his face was genuine. The Chimerist didn't have his weapons equipped but, by the look of the armor he was wearing, Auto had been busy since The Culling. He wore a full set of matching plate armor that harshly reflected the pale morning light. The slight man looked indestructible in his full garb. Chest, legs, boots, bracers, gauntlets—all plate. Garath hid his jealousy poorly as he gave Auto a once-over.

"You look exactly like I've always imagined you," Garath told him with a smile. “Now that I’ve seen you though, do you mind changing back to the sbearow? It’s actually less offensive to look at.”

"That's nice man. You look like James Franco fucked Andariel from Diablo Two and they had some kind of mutant demon baby that thinks it’s a comedian," said Auto. He cracked a smile too and, manly insults aside, Garath and Auto bro-hugged with hands clasped between their chests. "Nice to finally meet you in person."

The two old friends talked and laughed and said more mean things to each other on the edge of the cliff while they waited for the rest of Auto’s group to arrive. The Necrologist sent a message to everyone who’d been in his Raid group to let them know the campfire dinner would take place that evening right there on his cliff top. Garath invited the Chimerist into his Dungeon specialization Guild and the two of them explored a few of the Guild functions until the conversation devolved to things of a more personal matter.

"... and it was super hard to reach. But like, it was oozing, and I couldn't just leave it like that," Auto was saying, when Athios came around the bend and into view.

She held eye contact with each of them for a few awkward moments, then silently turned to leave.

"Hey wait!" Garath called as he chased after her.

"I just came to see what you had planned for the day," she said. “But I do not think this is a conversation I want to be a part of.”

“Come meet Auto!” Garath said. He scrambled to cover for his friend’s oozing sore. “He was talking about some sushi that he left in the fridge for too long. I promise he's a good guy. And I don't think he oozes anywhere."

Athios reluctantly followed Garath back to where Auto waited, looking sheepish.

"Auto, Athios. Athios, Auto. He's a Chimerist," Garath told Athios excitedly. "And historically is an okay guy.”

"Great introduction, G. Thanks. Between that and the fact that she already knows about my sore, I'm sure I made a great first impression," said Auto. He reached out a hand, and Athios apprehensively accepted it. "I’m Auto. It's nice to meet you."

Garath internally facepalmed.

"Sore? I thought you said it was sushi he left in the fridge,” Athios said,