Level: 8
Age: 29
Health: 350/350
(base: 300; APs: +50)
Stamina: 97/100
Mana: 390/390
(base:300; APs: +60; items: +30)
Exp to next Level: 18,665/21,000
Attributes
Vitality: 35 - Each point of Vitality provides +10 to maximum Health.
Wisdom: 36 - Each point of Wisdom provides +10 to maximum Mana.
Regeneration: 14 - As a Necrologist, each point of Regeneration increases Mana recovery rate by +1.11 per second; Health recovery rate by +.25 per second; and recovery from injury by +2%.
Strength: 5 - In addition to making one stronger, each point of Strength increases physical attack damage by 1% and reduces damage received from physical attacks by .25%.
Dexterity: 5 - In addition to making one more agile, each point of Dexterity improves the critical strike chance of physical attacks by +.3%; the critical strike damage of physical attacks by +3%; and improves chance to dodge by +.5%.
Unused Attribute Points: 6
Garath was excited to allocate his Attribute Points but, before he did, he had to know more about how 'damage' would actually affect his body. To his recollection, he had yet to sustain any damage at all.
‘But how to test it?’ he wondered.
Simple deduction from the information he had gained so far (specifically that the monsters of the second wave had between 20 and 25 HP, his Death Bolt now had a base damage of between 14 and 15, and the fact that he had 350 Health Points - all before he even allocated his 6 new Attribute points) led Garath to believe that he could easily survive a hit from anything near his level. Although, when Athios was impaled by the scimitar, her health bar dipped to well below twenty-five percent - it even continued to drop after he had removed the sword, presumably a 'bleeding debuff' of some kind; the Endless Potion of Healing he poured into her mouth must have closed the wound while he was fighting on ground level. She easily could have died if he hadn't removed the rusty shish-ka-bob and poured the healing potion down her throat. Maybe critical damage from being impaled was the explanation.
‘It just doesn't make sense,’ he thought. Then he remembered that a combat log was recently made available and opened his main MENU panel to adjust the settings.
"Oh hey, G. Thanks for your help with the horde of those fuckers I pulled so you could get inside," said Warrion, his voice carrying to the Necrologist over the murmuring company of children and non-combatants between them. The Assassin walked past Sharon and the healers, then entered the building panting heavily and gleaming with sweat in the morning sun.
"Oh, hey man. Sorry, I was doing some things..." Garath replied shortly before turning his attention back to his panels.
"No big, homes. Hey, does it seem to you like we're super OP? Like... These things go down in two or three well placed hits but I have two hundred HP and my regen has been enough to just keep fighting."
"You know," the Necrologist said, closing his panels and turning his thoughtful stare to Warrion, who had taken a seat next to him, "I was literally just thinking exactly that… but so many people have died."
"Right?!"
"Death of a thousand cuts?"
"What?"
"An organized army of mice could kill a cat. Speaking of..." Garath stood up and scanned the room for Sharon and Tarzan, he located the black ball of fluff quickly. She was dozing lazily in the lap of a beautiful young woman next to Mark on the ground. Satisfied that his cat was safe, he continued scanning the crowd for Sharon.
"Wait, what? Mice?"
"Forget it,” Garath sighed expansively. “Hey, will you do me a favor?"
"Whatcha need?"
"I want you to hit me with one of your Skills, but I need to figure out the combat log first. Why don't you go to the bathroom and get some water while I dick around with the options?" he asked. Warrion was still breathing heavily and looked like he could use something to drink. "It's down in the main hall, apparently indoor plumbing doesn't rely completely on electricity."
"Dude, nice."
With that, the gangly Assassin got to his feet and eagerly sought to quench his thirst. Garath returned to his MENU panels, the newest option available glowed gold in the center panel reading 'Settings'. He focused on the option and a Settings partition filled the left third of his vision. There were customization variations in a long column, about half way down he found what he was looking for.
Combat Log: Disabled
When he focused on the word 'Disabled', he found that it opened a drop down menu of sorts, listing the options.
Disabled (selected: default)
Enabled Background
Enabled Foreground
Garath chose Enabled Foreground and noticed a few other interesting options in this new Settings panel. He was reading through them when he felt a familiar brush of fur against his leg.
"Been taking it easy, huh?" he asked the black feline. Tarzan flicked her tail irritably and turned away from him. "Oh don't be like that. Have you seen Sharon?"
Tarzan yawned and started cleaning herself, ignoring his question completely.
‘Fucking cats…’ Garath thought. Even when he knew for a fact that, not only could she understand him, but she could literally converse with him - and she still just ignored him just like she often had before the apocalypse.
"I'm right here, young man," a beautiful young woman said to him. In all the excitement of the past few hours Garath had completely forgotten about her recent transformation.
"Sharon, holy shit! I forgot that you're not old as balls anymore. Thanks for keeping an eye on this A-hole for me."
The cat meowed haughtily and sauntered over to stand next to Sharon.
"Listen," Garath continued. "Me and Warrion are going to do a bit of a test when he gets back and it may... Well, it may hurt a bit and I don't know exactly how it will affect me. I wouldn't mind having a back up to my health potion around in case anything unexpected happens."
Sharon readily agreed to help and Garath felt much more confident after seeing her healing in action throughout the first two waves. He wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that she was able to pick up spell casting so easily considering how long it took him to teach her even the basics of a smartphone.
The sounds of battle echoing from the entrance of the building had grown more and more sporadic as the massive horde of Ghouls had been defeated and the party keeping them at bay had only to dispatch of a few Ghouls at a time when they respawned and attacked.
A prompt appeared in the forefront of Garath's vision in the elaborate gold font signifying it was a world-wide notification.
Monster respawns will be halted for the next 30 minutes as the next wave is prepared. Rest and hone your skills, human. The Culling continues at 06:00(GST).
The Culling Totals
Global Death Count: 2,311,764,001
Community Death Count: 51,027
‘Over fifty-thousand... Here in Everett?’ he thought, disbelief filling his heavy heart. ‘How? How did these mindless undead kill so many?’
"So, you just want me to hit you with something?" Warrion asked as he entered the crowded hallway, one eyebrow slightly raised. He lifted both hands out to his sides, they shimmered and the twin daggers appeared once again in his grip. Garath internally marvelled about the badass entrance his nerdy neighbor had just pulled off and even considered complimenting the Assassin, but didn't.
Garath considered his question, then hesitantly decided it really was the best and safest way to get the information he needed - and he welcomed any distraction from the growing death toll. "Yeah. But let's do it in the main hall. Sharon, you coming?"
"Yes,” she said, nodding slowly with one finger pressed against her chin. “Yes, I think I would like to watch this.”
The three of them moved into the main hall and Garath walked ahead of the others into the middle of the room. He turned and looked a bit nervously at Warrion.
>
"Where should I hit you?" the Assassin asked.
"I don't know, just...wherever. Don't hit my face though."
Warrion laughed as he assumed a staggered combat stance he only could only have picked up from video games. “Don't worry, bro. We both know you're too pretty for that."
"Ready when you are," said Garath. The Necrologist closed his eyes, knowing he would instinctively try to avoid being hit if he could see it coming. He heard a rush of footsteps and braced himself. Pain seared across his chest as Warrion's dagger raked his skin in a horizontal sweep. Garath staggered back and opened his eyes.
"Ouch!" he pouted. "Fuck."
He looked down, the cut was shallow but blood flowed freely from the open wound. His HP had dropped to 299/350 and was continuing to trickle down as the blood soaked his (now) ripped t-shirt. He loved that shirt, but tried not to think too much about it - considering the whole apocalypse thing, it really just didn’t matter all that much - at least that’s what he kept telling himself.
In the lower half of his vision a simple, white text literally put his pain into words.
Begin Combat Log:
[08:32:13.232] Warrion's Slash strikes You for 51 damage (Physical).
[08:32:13.232] Warrion's Slash afflicts You with Bleed. You will lose 5 HP per second until healed.
[08:32:14.232] You have lost 5 HP from Bleed.
[08:32:15.232] You have lost 5 HP from Bleed.
[08:32:16.232] You have lost 5 HP from Bleed.
End Combat Log.
"Sharon, you're up!" Garath said through gritted teeth as the bleed damage continued draining red from his Health bar.
Sharon concentrated and the Mana pooling in her outstretched hands began to glow with a calming emerald light. She raised her hands and targeted the bleeding Necrologist, then released the spell. Green light shot from her hands and into the wounded Raid leader. The searing pain in his chest lessened immediately and he watched as the gash slowly closed, the skin inching together as though pulled by unseen sutures. His health bar stopped plummeting and started to tick toward full, but the pain had not abated completely. He looked at the combat log again as additional information scrolled continually in his vision.
Begin Combat Log:
[8:32:56.012] Sharon's Life's Touch heals You for 21.1 HP.
[8:32:56.012] Sharon's Life's Touch has healed Your Bleed debuff.
[8:32:56.012] You are no longer affected by Bleed from Warrion's Slash.
[8:32:57.012] Sharon's Life's Touch heals you for 1.98 HP.
[8:32:58.012] Sharon's Life's Touch heals you for 1.98 HP.
End Combat Log.
As his breathing eased and the lingering pain transitioned into nothing more than a tightness across the newly healed skin on his chest, Garath looked at Warrion with an incredulous expression.
"What the fuck was that? Fifty-one damage?!" G asked.
"Seriously? Sick!" Warrion pumped one dagger into the air triumphantly. “I've only been hitting the skellys for around twenty.”
"Less sick on the receiving end you ass," said Garath, laughing at the Assassin's antics. "So, wait… what the fuck? Why would it do so much more damage to me?"
"Beats me. PVP bonus?"
Garath nodded, lost in thought. He left Sharon and Warrion in the main hall, begging off under the pretext of needing to use the boy's room.
Once alone in the public restroom, Garath considered his point allocation and relieved his bladder. For some reason, the Necrologist felt odd about doing something as normal as peeing during such an abnormal day - like he was playing catch at a soccer game or something.
Though he would have felt more comfortable distributing Attribute Points after combing through wikis, none were available - and with the third wave only minutes away, he knew he had to make a decision. What he had learned so far would just have to be enough. The enhanced spell power from pouring points into Wisdom was tempting, but in the end... not dying was his first priority. With that in mind, the Necrologist poured all six points into Regeneration.
The second he confirmed his choices, an indescribable feeling washed over him. He just felt generally... well, like having a Gatorade and greasy burger after a binger but even better, cleaner - maybe something like he would feel if he’d never had a hangover to begin with, and slept on a regular schedule, and ate healthy food, and exercised - not that Garath would have any idea what that would feel like. He opened his MENU panels and navigated again to his Profile panel to look over his improved stats.
Garath
Race: Human
Class: Necrologist
Level: 8
Age: 29
Health: 350/350
(base: 300; APs: +50)
Stamina: 97/100
Mana: 390/390
(base:300; APs:+60 items: +30)
Exp to next Level: 18,665/21,000
Attributes
Vitality: 35 - Each point of Vitality provides +10 to maximum Health.
Wisdom: 36 - Each point of Wisdom provides +10 to maximum Mana.
Regeneration: 20 - As a Necrologist, each point of Regeneration increases Mana recovery rate by +1.11 per second; Health recovery rate by +.25 per second; and recovery from injury by +2%.
Strength: 5 - In addition to making one stronger, each point of Strength increases physical attack damage by 1% and reduces damage received from physical attacks by .25%.
Dexterity: 5 - In addition to making one more agile, each point of Dexterity improves the critical strike chance of physical attacks by +.3%; the critical strike damage of physical attacks by +3%; and improves chance to dodge by +.5%.
Unused Attribute Points: 0
He grinned at his refilling Health pool and made his way back to the front of the large brick building. New Skills, improved Attributes, Garath was ready for more action.
Chapter 15
Rollin’
When the third wave of The Culling began, Garath wasn’t surprised to see more undead type creatures spawning from the black orbs spread across the planet. Predictably, the average Level of the monsters had increased – ranging now from Level(s) 6-8. The increased Level of this wave’s enemies didn’t pose much of a problem as The Band of the Hawk’s individual Levels had also increased. The hurdle they did face were the Skeletal Archers that started popping out of what Garath had started referring to the ‘monster balls’ in his mind along with the Fetid Ghouls from the previous wave. Instead of simply bottlenecking the enemy horde outside the doors, the Raid now had to deal with ranged attackers that effectively used the Ghouls as animate meat shields (sans most of the meat).
Throughout the third wave Garath stayed behind the clashing of steel on the basketball courts, opting to hold a position with Athios and the other ranged fighters between the joined melee and the healers just inside the doors. From there he was able to maximize his effectiveness (and earned experience), able to cast Death Bolts with impunity and infect a large number of Fetid Ghouls with Blight each time its cooldown elapsed with only a few steps forward. His Endless Potion of Mana Restoration proved invaluable as the constant casting drained his Mana all the way to empty after only a few minutes fighting. The sapphire beaker found a new home in the pocket of Garath’s worn out jeans. He pulled it out to refill his Mana almost every time the ten minute cooldown period elapsed.
The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) Page 10