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

of curiosity, Garath took an unexpected turn without any kind of warning to his minions. He ducked under a rusted Mercedes and into a side-alley, then waited beneath a fire escape hanging from the brick wall of a half-demolished apartment building. He wasn’t disappointed in his pets’ reactions.

Garath could feel Bill's growing anxiety through their mental connection immediately. A second later, the demon came barreling eagerly into the alley with his teeth bared, eyes searching wildly. When Bill located the little white cat hiding under the derelict staircase, he gave a little tail wag and approached. With a mental command telling Bill to ‘hide’, the Fel Hound joined him beneath the staircase.

From there,Garath noticed for the first time how large Bill was in comparison to his under-sized House Cat form. The hulking Fel Hound hunched over his front paws, somewhere between sitting and lying down. Greenish drool oozed out of his mouth in long strands. The muscular demon Hound and the fluffy white Necrologist waited patiently for Handsome to find them. After about a minute, Garath started to worry that the Cambionic Flayer had gotten lost.

*Handsome?* Garath projected the thought to his Flayer. *Are you okay?*

The high-pitched, scratching sound that was Handsome’s voice responded in his mind like nails on a chalkboard. *Up.*

Garath craned his neck and looked to the sky, which he found was a fair bit more difficult with four legs on the ground. Sure enough, Handsome hovered some thirty-feet above them near the tops of  the broken buildings. But Handsome wasn’t looking down at them. He was staring intently off to his right.

Without being prompted, Handsome scratched another word into Garath’s mind with a raised finger pointing to whatever held his gaze. *Friend.*

It dawned on the Necrologist that Gary hadn’t followed him and, as usual, he hadn’t communicated his plans. Garath’s eyes followed Handsome’s twisted bony finger out of the alley and into the street beyond. Gary had shifted back into his natural form and was hunched over something. He had no trouble seeing the forms approaching the bearded man from behind.

Three shopping-cart-sized, black-and-grey quadrupeds.

Because of the relatively poor long-distance eyesight of the feline form, he wasn’t able to make out any more details about the creatures but, as they fanned out in a semi-circle behind Gary, he recognized them as a pack of predators. During his gaming days before the apocalypse, Garath always had a nature documentary of some variety playing for background noise while he was dungeon diving or fighting in an arena. Even without paying complete attention to the wonderful commentary of David Attenborough, Garath had picked up a thing or two.

These creatures were stalking their prey.

*Behind you!* Garath called in the mental form of communication he had become accustomed to while in beast forms that lacked vocal cords.

Gary didn’t react to his warning.

*Gary!* he called again. No response. Garath couldn’t understand why the bearded man wasn’t moving and tried again with a, *Move your ass!*, to no avail.

A fourth creature came into view, approaching Gary from the front as Garath, Bill, and Handsome exited the alley. Gary finally looked up. The bearded man looked first at the creature approaching him, then around him. His eyes widened as he equipped what was left of his shield and crouched into a wary fighting stance. The great white Dragon, Aldrasyl, had destroyed most of the shield Gary was granted for choosing the Armoron Class with a single attack. All that was left of the item that had kept Gary alive throughout The Culling was a thick leather arm holster connected to a cracked metal plate. Well, half a cracked metal plate.

Garath issued orders to his demons as he stood with Gary against the snarling monsters surrounding them.

*Bill, that one.* Garath projected a mental image of the creature approaching from the front. *Keep its attention ‘til we can down the other three. Handsome, approach from above. Get behind the group and wait for my signal.*

Garath, still in House Cat form, looked up at Gary. The bearded man’s eyes narrowed as they shifted from one monster to the next, and he backed up against an abandoned GMC. Bill sprinted ahead toward his target while Handsome gained altitude with a few flaps of his bony wings, then circled around to Garath’s left to get into position and wait for the signal.

*What the hell, man?* Garath crept closer to the cornered Gary. *You couldn’t hear me?*

Gary didn’t even turn to acknowledge him. When Garath finally figured out why Gary was ignoring him, he wanted to facepalm. Of course, he couldn’t. He was a cat.

Gary hadn’t been ignoring him at all. The mental form of communication while in a beast form wasn’t provided by the BeastScape Ability, it was the Party and Raid Group communication channel, and they weren’t in a Party. Garath had dissolved the Raid Group the day before. During The Culling, and over the week that had passed since, he had gotten so used to using the Raid communication channel while in a BeastScape form that he didn’t even think about it. He quickly fired out a Party invitation, then finally took a good look at the approaching predators.

Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me.

They were goddamned racoons. Not like any racoon that Garath had ever seen. Apart from having swollen to be the size of a bears, these racoons had apparently developed a taste for blood, if the red stains on their teeth and fur were any indication. Whether they were specifically hunting humans, or if Gary had just looked like easy prey to this pack of scavengers, Garath didn’t know. He triggered Inspect to get a better idea of what they were up against.

Racer

Beast

Health: 340/340

Level: 7

Station: Wild Animal

Mana: 0/0

Description: Though originally nocturnal scavengers, these Racers have fed on the (plentiful) remains of Mana-infused humans, causing their evolution from Raccoon to Racer.

Oh shit. Garath hadn’t even thought about the human remains blanketing the planet like fresh snow after The Culling, let alone the effect the corpses would