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

Garath thought to himself, pouting in a way unbecoming of a nearly thirty-year-old man. He snuck an upward glance right as the Dragon was passing over the old school building - he had been wrong, it was definitely bigger than a school bus.

For seconds that seemed to stretch into hours, the tempest of white and cobalt ice-shards battered the roof of the brick building as the mammoth reptile passed overhead. Garath cringed with each crash and boom and breaking of glass, wondering if the building could stand up to the onslaught and knowing that they had taken a risk by hiding inside their stronghold. He had seen the buildings already laid to waste in the wake of the great white Dragon and prayed to whatever god would listen that The Church of Immaculate Conception would hold, but there was nothing for it - all he could do at that point was wait, and hope.

The sound of breaking glass and the hammering of ice against as it pelted the roof finally subsided and all was strangely quiet. The temperature plummeted at an unnatural rate and, in the muggy heat of summer, the moisture in the air flash froze - leaving sparkling fractals of white-blue flakes hanging suspended, floating and motionless. Not a breath was taken as The Band stood motionless in fear.

The surreal moment of relief was short lived, and ended abruptly when the white Dragon landed down with a deafening boom only twenty-meters in front of the cracked and frosted glass doors. Garath had fantasized about seeing an actual Dragon in person regularly ever since he read Dragonriders of Pern in the fifth grade, but even he wasn't prepared for what they saw. The mythic reptile was absolutely terrifying.

Every inch of its muscled body was covered with thick, overlapping white scales. Its long, sharp claws tore rents in the asphalt like it was butter. Its harshly angled azure eyes were staring intensely right back at them, unblinking. It opened its fanged mouth and bellowed a challenging roar to the worried warband hiding behind the brick walls. Garath hesitantly triggered Inspect, almost not wanting to see what they were up against. He immediately wished he hadn't.

Aldrasyl

Health: 49,500/49,500

Race: Beast - Ice Drake

Level: ???

Mana: 14,750/15,500

Specification: Mythic Reptile

Description: Mysterious and powerful, Dragons were the masters and apex predators on the dead planet of Thysandra for millenia.

Traits: unknown

Garath's jaw dropped and his mouth hung open stupidly. Not only did they have to fight a freaking DRAGON, said Dragon's Level was apparently beyond Garath's ability to Inspect and the damn thing had almost fifty-thousand HP!

The Necrologist was almost positive that this foe was beyond the capacity of his make-shift Raid Group - made up of random, exhausted people - to handle. He was even more sure that the damn thing could easily bring down the building they were hiding in and kill them all where they stood. And if the chances of hiding from it were low, the chances of outrunning the winged reptile were even lower than the odds of Garath ever coming up with a decent joke about the Church of Immaculate Conception. The last thing, this one he was sure of, was that this 'Aldrasyl' wouldn't just stand there while Garath weighed his options. If they were going to survive, there was only one option left. They would have to fight it.

Garath shifted seamlessly into his small, white House Cat form. Less than a foot tall and fuzzy once again, the Necrologist addressed the Raid as he slipped through a hole in the glass doors and stepped out into the frigid night.

*It's not going to let us hide,* he told them, sinking his needle-like claws into the ice with each step for sure footing as he sprinted toward the Ice Dragon. *Tanks, we're going to do a taunt rotation. When I call your name, use your taunt and strongest defensive abilities. Melee fighters, attack but stay on its flanks - away from its tail and face. Casters stay close to Athios and give it hell. Athios, save your Mana and only use your dimension shit to get people out of danger. AyAyRon, play whatever song is going to increase our damage output the most. Everyone, just… just do the best you can and don't die.*

Camouflaged and unseen with his white fur, Garath maneuvered across the preternatural winter landscape. He didn't have much of a plan but he knew a good place to start. He could get behind the Dragon and attack to get its attention, hopefully turning it away from the doors long enough for the fighters to get out of the building and for the tanks to get into position.

The Ice Drake flexed its wings and hissed menacingly at the doorway as Garath dashed between the Dragon's front legs to its underside. The Necrologist had planned to continue below the creature and then attack it from behind, but was forced to reconsider when he was nearly knocked off his feet by a swinging white penis so massive it may as well be a wrecking ball to the kitten sized Necrologist. Garath stopped on a dime to avoid being the victim of a full body mushroom stamp. That was one of the things a game designer would typically just leave out. Nobody wanted to see a dragon dong, Garath was no exception, but it did give him an idea. He had been so enthralled with the new game-like aspects that he had nearly forgotten he was still on Earth, that he was not constrained by the limits of game design. Cats can't smile, but if they could, Garath's small white House Cat form would have been grinning devilishly. Aldrasyl's intense, angled and azure eyes never left the front doors - the poor Dragon never saw it coming.

Garath briefly considered not taking the cheap shot but he knew he would have to take any advantage he could if they were going