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 12:00(GST).
The Culling Totals
Global Death Count: 4,978,025,135
Community Death Count: 88,032
The Skeletal Magi, in addition to their Ghoul and Archer comrades, had managed to put down another 1,362,035,233 humans across the planet. As he shifted back into his natural form and made his way back into the building, Garath couldn’t help wondering how many of the undead pig-fuckers he and The Band had put down during that wave. He also thought that the death count prompt would be much more encouraging if it showed that number instead - or at least in addition to - but he guessed that encouragement probably wasn’t its intended function. He dismissed the prompt and moved on to the good stuff.
Congratulations, Garath! For reaching level(s) 12, 13, and 14 you are awarded +9 Attribute Points (3 per level) and +3 Skill Points (1 per level) to distribute at your discretion. As a Necrologist, you receive +3 Wisdom, +3 Vitality, and +1 Regeneration per level. You have one week to distribute the points before they are assigned for you based on your chosen class.
Unused Attribute Points: 9
Unused Skill Points: 4
Garath slumped a bit. He was SO close to Level 15! Between that and the fact that he didn’t receive the notification stating that new Skills were now available, the Necrologist mentally kicked himself for not eeking out just a few more kills over the last few hours. On the brighter side, at least this time he knew exactly where to put his Attribute Points. His Vitality and Regeneration stats seemed to be more than sufficient to keep him alive at that point, especially considering how easy it had been for him to dodge incoming attacks in the Form Size: Tiny body of a House Cat, and decided that he wanted to add a little more firepower to his spells. He dumped all 9 unused AP into Wisdom, confirmed his changes, and reveled in the rejuvenating rush from the increased Attributes.
More groups came to join The Band during the break between the fourth and fifth waves. Most notably, to Garath at least, was a group of five self-proclaimed ‘bad-asses’ that swaggered up to the building - all middle-school aged gamer boys that had probably spent the last five years playing D&D in Mike’s basement. Not that any of them were named Mike, of course. Their names (Stabby, SHONEN, Teerex, TheDM, and AyAyRon) were all quite obviously gamertags and, despite their age, Garath was thrilled to have a group of little gamers in the Raid. Apart from the young boys that Garath had decided to refer to as ‘the hawkies’ in his head, several more families and even a few lone wolves made their way to The Band’s stronghold. Garath spent the majority of the half-hour window between waves meeting with each new person and group, introducing himself and directing them to their respective positions in preparation for the next wave.
With a fresh-ish batch of reinforcements and a defensive strategy that had kept everyone alive through twelve hours of attacks, Garath felt confident going into the fifth wave. Still, with the group size now just over 100, he decided to stay in his human form and remain behind the melee with the other ranged damage dealers for the upcoming wave. From there, he would be in a better position to mark targets and organize the group as a whole.
At 12:58GST (3:58PM PST) the floating monster-balls once again started to swell and shake wildly. Garath’s heart jumped in his chest when he saw that, unlike each of the previous waves, roughly one in twenty-five of the vibrating black orbs were glowing an ominous blood-red.
The closest red orb to The Band of the Hawk’s defensive position was just on the other side of the closest asphalt basketball court, about 20 meters south of the doors. Another of the red orbs hovered a few feet off the ground about 20 meters to either side of the first. The spacing between them and the placement of the new orbs made it pretty clear to Garath that a fourth red orb was almost positively hovering atop the roof of the building.
Chapter 17
If Wishes Were Horses We’d All be Eatin’ Steak
Undead Legionnaire
Undead
Health: 155/155
Level: 14
Station: Commander
Mana: 65/65
Description: Commanders of the Skeletal Legions.
Average Respawn Time: 30 minutes
Level Range: 14-15
*Note: Undead Legionnaires command and bolster the Lich’s Legion.
“Well that’s just fucking great,” Garath said to noone in particular as he read the informational table.
The Legionnaire stood over seven feet tall and, though it had no muscles to speak of, its bulky plate armor and thick bones gave it a bulky appearance to add to its towering presence. It held an impressive lochaber axe with both boney hands. The roar that gurgled out of its silver plate helmet made the hairs on Garath's neck stand on end, and the undead army jolted into action as one.
The skeletal army surrounding the Legionnaire swelled as its shout blessed them each with some kind of buff. Garath was tempted to will more information from the icon below each of their Health bars denoted by a flexed arm, but had more pressing concerns. Each of the affected minions grew a few inches in height as they surged forward with raised weapons.
“Do we still target the mages?” asked the urgent voice of a young boy over the Raid communication channel. Because Garath was within earshot of the person speaking, he knew it was SHONEN - one of the hawkies that had just joined The Band.
Garath hesitated, losing precious seconds as he weighed his options. Each second of deliberation was costly and the two-and-a-half hour battle had already begun. He could only make out three of the Undead Legionnaires in their direct vicinity - with dozens of Ghouls, Archers, and Magi at their command. If they continued their priority targeting on the ranged enemies, that would mean leaving the Legionnaires to buff their troops and organize their attacks. Of course, if they didn't continue targeting the Archers and Magi, they would have to deal with the deadly rain of arrows and magic attacks that followed.
As much as Garath wanted to remain in his human form and call strategy from behind their defensive line, it just wasn't in the cards. The Band needed to continue their priority targeting of the ranged enemies and take out the Legionnaires as quickly as possible. Garath made his decision, shimmering and shrinking into his House Cat form as he projected his thoughts to reach the entire Raid.
*Yes. Target the Magi, then Archers just like the last wave. Mark your targets and call it if you need help,* he said. The transformation complete, Garath couldn't help recognizing a not-so-subtle change in his thinking, his lust for Experience Points slightly clouding his judgement. Recognizing the shift in mentality didn't change a damn thing for him though and he took off at a sprint toward the nearest enemy commander. *I'm on the Legionnaires.*
"What, all of them?" asked Fergus incredulously as he single handedly pushed the line of undead back with a few wide sweeps of his mace.
Garath didn't answer. He was already behind enemy lines, dodging and weaving unnoticed between bony legs as they shambled toward the stronghold. From his height of about eight inches, Garath felt like Eren Yeager surrounded by an army of titans, their stomping march shaking the ground below him like a vibrator plugged into a car battery. The towering forms all around him and the constant need to scamper away from skeletal feet pounding down from every direction made him lose his intended direction for a moment and he began to panic, lost behind enemy lines only seconds after he told his group he would take care of the biggest threat they currently faced. He kept moving, dodging and scurrying toward where he hoped the enemy commander was. Before he knew it, the fluffy white Necrologist nearly ran head first into the plated boot of the Undead Legionnaire.
If the enemy commander looked large from 20 meters away and in his own natural form, the behemoth standing before Garath now could only be described as titanic. Garath had to crane his neck to look up at his target from eight inches off the ground. He was confused to find the Legionnai
re still stationary. As far as he could tell, the thing hadn’t taken a step from where it spawned moments before. Instead, the towering Legionnaire seemed to be directing the lesser, mindless undead with hand motions and unnerving clicking sounds. The Necrologist wondered if he had made a mistake in choosing to attack the Legionnaires directly, it wasn’t even attacking the stronghold. He briefly considered high tailing it back to the relative safety behind the melee fighters, but that was before the Legionnaire activated its most devastating Ability.
With a roar that seemed to erupt directly out of the enemy commander’s helmet, every undead minion in the area - even those outside the apparent aggro range - turned and marched directly to where Garath was standing at the Legionnaire’s feet.
‘Yep,’ Garath thought, nodding in agreement with himself. ‘This bitch needs to die.’
Dark purple energy shot out in every direction, infecting the Legionnaire and over a dozen other undead with the damage over time debuff of Blight. After purchasing Mastery: Pestilent, Garath knew that the base damage of Blight had gone up by 20% - between that and his recently increased Wisdom, Blight would theoretically inflict 76 damage on each affected creature over the next 15 seconds. The red Health bar above the Legionnaire’s head showed 155/155 when Garath’s DoT took hold, and even if the enemy commander took the full 76 points of damage over 15 seconds, a single Blight wouldn’t bring it down. If Garath could manage to stay alive, and in the area for 30 seconds when the cooldown for his AoE DoT elapsed, he could cast another Blight and the fight was his. But then, he did just engage over a dozen undead - they all turned on him, and then attacked.
A notched scimitar came slashing down from the swing of a Level 13 Fetid Ghoul and Garath avoided it, stepping quickly out of the way and bounding between the legs of his attacker. An arrow ricocheted off the asphalt only an inch from his paw and he took another sharp turn back in the direction of the Legionnaire. Sword strike after sword strike and arrow after arrow rained down on the tiny Necrologist and his Stamina bar was draining faster than a bottle of Jack after an AA meeting as he attempted to avoid becoming a G-kabob.
He scampered around the back side of the Legionnaire and launched himself up and into the air with every ounce of Strength in his tiny body. As he passed by his intended landing pad - the Legionnaire’s neck and shoulder area - Garath was reminded of his first attempted jump in feline form in the bedroom of his apartment earlier that same day. Once again, he had underestimated the leaping power of Felis Domesticus.
The little white cat cleared his target entirely and, as he reached the peak of his wild leap, time seemed to slow. Garath saw the gaze of the Legionnaire follow him as he passed over its head. Skeletal Archers in every direction lifted their bows with the strings taut. Skeletal Magi released orbs of various magical attacks that sped in his direction. Below, the Legionnaire and several Fetid Ghouls took aim with their lochaber axe and scimitars respectively - waiting for him to land like a morbid and violent nest of baby birds eagerly awaiting their next meal. Beyond his own perilous skirmish, Garath caught a glimpse of the rest of the Raid and their fight outside the building. He was relieved to see that the line was holding.
A well-aimed arrow whistled by his face and the adrenalyn-induced time slowing effect ended abruptly. An orb of flame connected with his side. The searing pain and loss of 131 HP turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Though it hurt, and his white fur caught flame, the impact of the fireball pushed Garath a few inches off his original trajectory. A trajectory that would have ended with Garath looking like a feline voodoo doll, had he continued along it. Several more arrows zipped by as he fell to the ground.
Cats always land on their feet, except when struck mid-air by a fiery magic orb. Instead of landing on all fours, the Necrologist hit the ground hard and rolled. The fur that had caught fire was put out on the asphalt, leaving a fire-blackened circle on his left side. He scrambled to his feet and began funneling Health and Mana into the two-second cast time of Sanguine Ward. The feeling of the Blood Magic spell siphoning his Health was inherently different from spells that only called on his Mana - it was like nothing he had ever felt before, and the only word that even came close to describing the sucking sensation pulling his blood from his beneath his skin was pain. When he finished casting the spell, a new buff icon appeared below his Health and Mana bars - had he not been surrounded by an undead army all posed to end his life, he may have taken the time to will more information from the icon. As it was, he figured his memory of the Skill description would have to suffice. He remembered that it would absorb all physical damage received for a few seconds.
It was a good thing he cast his spell shield when he did because, just as the sanguine barrier popped into place around him, the Legionnaire's lochaber axe came down hard. The heavy axe slammed into the spell shield and bounced off harmlessly, followed by an arrow from Garath's right, and then another from behind him. An orb of white magic didn't have nearly as hard of a time finding purchase against his tiny body and connected with his face. The pain threatened to overtake his judgement as Garath lost another 231 HP from the critical hit - bringing him down to nearly half of his maximum Health.
Garath did make good use of the time he was invulnerable to physical attacks, though. Just after the lochaber bounced off of his spell shield, Garath returned the sentiment with a Death Bolt to the Legionnaire's chest, landing a clean hit and parting the undead commander from 21 of its remaining HP. After that, the fluffy Necrologist closed the distance between himself and the Legionnaire and released his second Blight just before the white orb connected.
The second Garath saw the dark purple energy take hold on the Undead Legionnaire, he knew the fight was won and that it was time to make his escape. He turned and bolted back toward his Raid, weaving again through the towering undead horde until he laid eyes on the welcome sight of Warrion's morbid game of whack-a-mole. A quick look at his combat log made him smile inside.
Begin combat log:
[You have been awarded 2,365 Experience for slaying Level 14 Undead Legionnaire]
End combat log.
Once back in position next to Athios between the melee line and healers at the doors, Garath did a quick survey of the battle. As far as he could tell the fight was continuing to go their way. Though the Legionnaires had called more undead to action than they had fought in any of the previous waves, the melee line held strong with Gary, Fergus, Warrion, and the others pushing them back with heaps of support from the ranged fighters behind them.
SHONEN and the hawkies had apparently taken the initiative and moved as a group to combat one of the Legionnaires. Frankly, they made quick work of the undead commander before moving on to the next one. A subtle(ish) reminder to Garath that he did not have to do everything himself. Still in his tainted, slightly power hungry, but fully adorable House Cat form - he couldn't let the hawkies hog the massive Experience gains from the Legionnaires.
With a little help from Athios in the form of a well placed relocation each time he was able to finish off one of the Legionnaires, Garath continued hunting the undead commanders. The group of five pimple-covered young boys kept up with the Necrologist in terms of dispatching the Legionnaires. And, due to the longer respawn time of the new additions to the undead army, they only had to take down a new crop of Legionnaires five times over nearly three hours.
As he sat breathing heavily once again atop the not-quite-immaculate bathroom counter inside the stronghold with the late afternoon sun fighting its way through the frosted ‘privacy-windows’ above, Garath took a moment to read through the prompts he had received during the fifth wave. He dismissed the mounting death count prompt without even looking at the numbers and moved straight on to the pudding.
Congratulations, Garath! For reaching level(s) 15, 16, 17, and 18 you are awarded +12 Attribute Points (3 per level) and +4 Skill Points (1 per level) to distribute at your discretion. As a Necrologist, you receive +3 Wisdom, +3 Vitality, and +1 Regeneration per
level. You have one week to distribute the points before they are assigned for you based on your chosen class.
Unused Attribute Points: 12
Unused Skill Points: 8
New Skills are now available.
Garath didn’t waste time deliberating his choices. Instead, he allocated them immediately in an even three-way split between Vitality, Wisdom, and Regeneration. Even though he just allocated more APs than he had at any other singular time, the rejuvenating wave that washed over him when he confirmed his choices felt underwhelming this time - likely due to the growing fatigue from a very long and difficult day. Without further ado, Garath closed his Profile partition and opened his Skill Tree.
The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) Page 12