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

his method of letting his poisons do the work while he flittered out of harm's way above their heads, but otherwise was in good health. They were as ready as they could be for the four versus nine death-match ahead.

As Warrion jumped back to avoid a trident, Garath decided to even the odds a bit. He willed his Flayer and Fel Hound out of his mind and into existence before him. Before he even gave orders to his summoned creatures, his hidden Skill, Death’s Medium, bolstered the Party’s numbers even further as two undead Naga Pikemen slithered out of the blue water and onto the central platform. They approached him with uncomprehending expressions to await orders. With Garath’s new additions, what had been a four versus nine death-match had just become a much more even, eight versus nine death-match.

*Kill. Caster,* he told the Flayer, projecting the image of the last Naga Hypnotist to the little creature. The Flayer glared in response, then turned away from the Necrologist and flew off with its unnatural, boney wings to join the fight. As it flapped its way forward, Garath decided that if his Flayer survived the fight, he was going to give it a name.

His next command was directed at the undead incarnations of Naga Pikemen standing before him. *Go kill Naga.*

The two expressionless undead Pikemen turned without acknowledging and sped into the melee to join Warrion.

Garath didn't need to give the Fel Hound a command, the eager demon-dog jumped into action immediately upon being summoned - the threat to his Summoner was obvious and he would protect Garath to the bitter end.

‘Fel Hound is totally getting a name too,’ he thought fondly to himself as the sickly green creature barreled into S'thys Zor at chest level.

The Hound was no match for the named dungeon mob. S'thys Zor threw the Fel Hound to the ground and stabbed it through the chest with one huge trident. The Hound yipped pitifully as S'thys picked it up, still impaled on his massive trident, and flung it into one of the gazebo's pillars. A trail of sticky, hot blood painted the pillar green as the Hound fell to the floor. The green demon-dog tried and failed to get to its feet, its red Health bar dangerously low. Garath didn't know if it would help, but he dismissed the Hound - returning its broken, demonic body to the confines of his mind.

Garath himself did not just stand there, content to let his pets do the dirty work. He charged the cluster of Naga, following the path his Fel Hound had taken, trying to get close enough to infect all nine remaining Naga with Blight. He had never done something like that in human form and felt the gamer inside of him screaming that ‘casters should fight from behind the melee!’ The rest of him was ready to end this fucking fight though, so he ignored the years of seeing newb ass mages get one shot for doing something stupid like running head on into a melee skirmish with little to no armor.

The Necrologist was only ten feet from the group, running at a full sprint, when green light erupted from below S'thys Zor and binding Roots lashed out, entangling his arms and tail. Sharon was back in the fight, cackling madly from atop the gazebo.

"I'm back, you anus!" she shouted at the enraged creature.

Garath and Warrion didn't wait for someone to tell them an opportunity had just presented itself. The Assassin ducked under a massive trident as S'thys Zor flailed to free himself from the Roots. Warrion slid a dagger into the struggling Naga's hand and sliced down, splitting Zor's arm from wrist to elbow. The named creature howled in pain and the trident it had been holding clanged to the ground. Garath got as close as he could before entering melee range and unleashed Blight - sending deep purple energy one-meter in every direction, infecting most of the nine Naga with the powerful debuff. He started backing away while channeling Mana into the first cast of Creeping Death on the Boss, then something unexpected happened. A bolt of black energy struck him square in the chest, ripping a sliver of Health from his red HP bar.

Garath looked for the source, and rolled his eyes when he located it. His fucking Flayer had fired the shot at him, and was already releasing a second and third Death Bolt at the Necrologist. Another look around and it was obvious what was going on. The last Hypnotist had her eyes closed and hands outstretched, channeling a spell.

Garath's solution to this problem was much more simple than when the previous Hypnotist had Charmed Warrion. He simply banished the Flayer from this plain of existence, dismissing it into his mind. The Necrologist then resummoned the hateful little creature who glared at him, looking a bit bewildered.

*Kill. Caster,* he told it again, once again projecting the image of the Hypnotist - who was reeling in pain with her hands on her head from Spell backlash. *Don’t look into its eyes.*

The Flayer paused briefly, hovering over the platform in front of the Necrologist. It shook its malformed little head, straining its simple mind to decide which team it was fighting for.

*Now!* Garath commanded. The Flayer scowled at him, but turned back to the dwindling group of Naga and set off toward the Hypnotist.

Garath turned back to the dungeon boss struggling to free itself with multiple open wounds oozing blue puss. The Necrologist cast Creeping Death again, then again and again, stacking the damage over time debuff, Quickening Entropy, five times in as many seconds - ripping a migraine inducing 517 Mana from the Necrologist.

Warrion smartly dashed away as S'thys Zor broke free of the Roots and swung his massive trident in a wide arc in front of him. A pair of Athios’ silver disks relocated the dungeon boss to the other side of the central platform, giving Warrion, Garath, and the Flayer some much