The Tree of Ascension: A LitRPG Apocalypse (Peril's Prodigy Book 2)

by Craig Kobayashi

  Garath was stunned. He’d be god-damned if he didn’t see a hint of worry on the demon’s face. It’s not like he’d ever let the ugly little monster die before, or even take any damage at all really. Bill on the other hand, he had let die before. Despite that, the bonded Fel Hound was looking down at Garath’s tiny form with eager eyes and a long bead of drool hanging from his open mouth, ready to do his summoner’s bidding without question.

  *Because Bill isn't as clever as you are,* he told Handsome. Although the statement was probably true, Garath was just buttering the Flayer up a bit. If middle-management had taught him anything, it was that a little ego stroking came second only to a pay raise in terms of motivating underlings. *I won't let anything happen to you, but we've got a job to do. This field trip is not optional, got it?*

  *Yes,* Handsome confirmed with a dubious expression. Maybe dubious wasn’t quite right, but Garath was getting the distinct impression that his Flayer was not looking forward to his current mission.

  The rest of the Party retreated just beyond the bend at the far-north tip of the island. Garath sent Bill and the Golem to wait with the rest of the Party, then gave Handsome a rundown of his plan to entice the group of gnolls between the towers to give up their fortified position.

  Garath enjoyed giving his demons complex orders and watching the ever-improving competence in which they each showed in pulling them off. His connection to the demons had grown from the magical, System-issued bond of servitude into something more like having his own, fucked up little family.

  Just off the left side of the dirt path, but not quite to the tree line, the waist-high fog helped to obscure the tiny white Necrologist as he approached the enemy camp with Handsome in tow. There were three main factors that Garath considered while coming up with his little scheme.

  The first was that most of his ranged Skills had a 30-meter range. Second, he could summon and dismiss the Flayer from anywhere within 10 meters of his person. The last factor was that, in Garath's experience, dungeon monsters tended to have very game-like perception and, barring any particularly loud noises or dramatic spell casting, they wouldn't notice enemies until they were inside of fifty feet, right around 17 meters. Garath may be an American, but he'd watched enough BBC-produced nature documentaries to understand the metric system just enough to eyeball a rough estimate. When Garath came within spell-casting range of the towers, he stopped and flashed what he hoped was an encouraging look to Handsome as the little demon awkwardly walked past him.

  Garath laughed to himself as he watched the Flayer struggle with every step, doing his damnedest to avoid tipping over. His oversized head and bulbous belly made the demon somewhat top heavy. His gnarled, knobby legs didn't look like they should be able to support his weight. Garath didn't think he'd ever actually seen Handsome walk, now that he thought about it. Why would he? The demon could fly. After struggling through a few teetering steps toward the gnolls, Handsome disappeared into the fog.

  Garath waited longer than he probably needed to for the demon to get into position, but after watching Handsome's pitiful attempt at ground travel, he figured it was better to err on the side of caution.

  *Handsome, are you in position?*

  *Yes.*

  Garath's heart rate increased with excitement and his lust for power swelled. Even after the apocalypse, and all the combat he'd sought out since, the butterflies in his stomach never failed to get him going just before a fight. He was about to issue the command for Handsome, then a factor he'd failed to consider became clear.

  The enemies inside the towers watched from an elevated position, so they had an increased line of sight. The exclusion of such a key factor in his planning became immediately, painfully, obvious.

  Not painfully for Garath, thank the gods. The bolt aimed in his direction came up just short of its mark. It was a good thing too, because Garath hadn't seen or heard it coming until he was looking at its shaft sticking out of the ground. Handsome was not as lucky. The little demon didn't have any gods to curse when a crossbow bolt struck him in the chest. He did have Garath though, and curse him the demon did.

  *Why?* Handsome scratched the question into Garath's mind, almost as if he'd known this would happen.

  The fuzzy white Necrologist doubted that Handsome’s choice of the same one-word-sentence was a coincidence. He spared a moment to send the demon an apologetic thought. Handsome’s Healthbar had dropped to under half from the single hit and was continuing to slowly tick away from the bleeding debuff the arrow had blessed him with. Handsome may pack a decent punch, but his defenses left a lot to be desired. With a thought, he dismissed Handsome to wait within the relative safety of his mind. He wasn’t sure if or how Handsome would recover his missing Health, or if the recently skewered Flayer was even conscious of the pain while inactive. A quick mental probe later, Garath was relieved to find that Handsome was safe inside his mind and in the same condition in which he’d entered. He made a mental note to gift the demon with an apologetic gnoll heart later.

  His plan had been to lure the ground-level pack of gnolls by having Handsome pop out of the fog and fire off a Death Bolt. Garath would then dismiss the demon, while still concealed by the fog himself, forcing the gnolls to investigate. From there he was going to run out of the fog, cast a Death Bolt himself, and then book it back to where his Party was waiting to ambush the simple creatures. Unfortunately, Garath ended up being the simple creature in this scenario, and his plan had fallen to shit. That was the bad news.

  The good news was that his attempt to get the attention of the gnolls standing guard at the camp’s entrance was a success.

  Knowing the gnolls would be at least as fast as he was, Garath didn’t spare a single second before tearing down the dirt path. A few more arrows thunked into the ground behind him, effectively laying out perfect markers to gauge the range of the towers’ combatants.

  The cackling club of canids raised their weapons as they charged after the fleeing feline. The Necrologist glanced over his shoulder. Instead of joining the gnolls chasing him, four of the five gnolls that had been standing around the campfire moved up to stand guard between the towers in their place. Garath only caught a glimpse of the fifth as it sprinted toward the larger building on the far side of the camp. It may not have gone completely to plan, Garath mused, but he was currently in the process of bringing a single group to the slaughter, easily outside the range of the crossbows. It was still a win in his book.

  *I’m bringing five gnolls your way,* Garath called. The yips and growls of the pursuing gnolls were growing closer and his heart was beating on overdrive.

  Garath didn’t dare to glance behind him again. He could almost feel the heavy breathing of five gnolls hot on his tail when backup rounded the corner. Backup with a massive, horned, hairy, head of steam.

  Garath banked to his left just before being trampled to death by the raging Unibear. He ran to reunite with the rest of the Party then turned back to the fight, channeling Mana into a Felfire Bolt.

  The initial contact of a charging Unibear into a pack of gnolls in tight formation was something like a bowling alley strike, Garath thought as he took in the scene in front of him. Two of the creatures were just getting to their feet to Auto’s left. Two were already lifting their maces to retaliate. The last gnoll was stuck to Auto’s head, the horn embedded in its chest not quite long enough to impale it. To the gnoll’s credit, it was still gnashing and biting the Chimerist even as it writhed in pain.

  *I can’t see shit,* Auto complained.

  After trying and failing to shake the gnoll off of his face, Auto took a different approach. His body glimmered and blurred as he changed forms. When the his form solidified in Garath’s view, Auto was just a normal grizzly bear. The gnoll that had been on his face dropped to the ground, bleeding, as Auto shimmered again, swelling back into the horned hybrid of bear and rhinoceros.

  During those scant seconds, the Party did quite a lot. Sharon easily restored the small amoun
t of Health the Auto had lost. Garath sent in the troops with orders for the Fel Hound and Golem both to watch Auto’s back and target anything that tried to attack the tank from behind. Atlas joined Garath's summons, slashing with his ostentatious dual swords, while Daisy landed a burning status on each gnoll in turn with a well-placed Blast!

  In less than a minute, five dead gnolls lay bleeding, charred, dismembered, impaled, or all of the above in the case of one particularly unfortunate specimen. Five teal orbs levitated out of their lifeless forms that were promptly distributed.

  You have received 1.2 Mana Crystals.

  Mana Crystals will be stored in your Items panel until spent, traded, or until your death.

  There were four more identical prompts that Garath dismissed. He insisted on looting the weapons of the dead gnolls on the basis that they had access to a convenient, unlimited storage space. He wasn't sure if the gnoll weapons would ever make it back out of his Items panel, but if he ever needed a spiked mace, at least he'd have several of them.

  The process of looting everything he could get his hands on would have required a form shift, so he enlisted Auto’s help. As impressive as their athleticism is, cats can't pick up a mace to save their lives. He hated the idea of shifting back into his human body. That weak, flaccid excuse for a form. Unwilling to do what was necessary to grow in power. Unwilling to even eat the heart of Illunitus like he should have, and just because it would probably taste bad. No, Garath did not want to go back to that spineless form ever again. There was nothing wrong with his cat form anyway, he figured, feeling particularly pretty just then.

  In recompense for allowing the Cambionic Flayer to be skewered, Garath pulled Handsome back into the world to feed him a gnoll heart. The ugly demon hovered in front of Garath with a raised eyebrow, folded arms, and a crossbow bolt sticking out of his chest. Garath shrugged apologetically, then beckoned the winged demon over to him. Handsome obliged, then made an awful screech in pain as Garath wordlessly yanked the crossbow bolt out with feline teeth.

  Handsome glared at his summoner with undisguised anger until Garath told him it was time to eat and told him to pick a gnoll. His bulging eyes hopeful, Handsome surveyed the corpses for only a moment before deciding on his meal. A confused, but willing Atlas assisted the demon in opening the creature’s chest on Garath’s request, and Handsome got his meal.

  Though he’d seen it a handful of times by now, the process of watching the ugly little demon use both hands to stuff a steaming heart into his mouth and down his throat was still disgusting. Handsome’s missing Health was restored in short order and the bleeding debuff disappeared shortly after that.

  After pillaging the carcasses of their kills, the Party took a few seconds to recover Health and Mana after the five-on-five showdown. While they did, Auto asked Garath about the situation with the towers. Garath told them about the four gnolls that had been near the campfire moving to stand between the towers and the fifth running deeper into the camp.

  “How many of those things are in the towers?” Sharon asked.

  *Couldn’t say for sure, Garath explained. *It's dark and foggy.*

  *What do we do?* Auto asked through the Party channel, back in his bulky hybrid form. He turned his horned, lumpy head to look at Garath.

  *Storm the towers. What else?*

  He laid out the game plan for his Party as they set off back toward the gnoll camp. It wasn’t complicated. When the line of misfired crossbow bolts sticking out of the ground came into view, Garath called a halt.

  “Four bolts,” Atlas observed. “There must be at least two in each tower, then. You said they used crossbows, right? They couldn’t have loaded another bolt and missed again before you were out of range.”

  *Yeah. Good call,* Garath agreed. *But two more were shot before these four, so it’s a good bet each tower has three. Doesn’t really change the plan though, does it?*

  “I hate your plan,” Daisy pouted.

  *Suck it up, kiddo. If you came up with the plan then maybe you’d be the one to ride into battle on an epic mount,* Garath said smugly. *You clear on your job?*

  “Yes," Daisy confirmed, arms crossed over her chest.

  Garath leaped onto the Unibear’s back. It was an easy enough jump, and with all the time Garath had been spending in his House Cat form, he rarely overshot his mark anymore.

  With a little Necrologist nervously sinking needle-like claws into his back, Auto trotted down the path ahead of the Party. The sight of a tiny white cat riding on a ridiculously large, hair-patched Unibear didn't stop the gnolls in the tower from unloading a volley of spring-loaded pointy sticks at them the second the fantasy B-movie outcasts entered firing range.

  The first bolt to arrive was well-aimed. It hit Auto right in the horn but ricocheted off harmlessly. A second zipped past Auto’s head and thunked into the ground, and another grazed Garath's right ear. A fourth sunk into one of Auto’s beefy shoulders. The Unibear stumbled briefly from the pain but gathered his footing much easier than the cat struggling to keep balance on his back. Auto continued forward with only a sliver of Health missing.

  *Now!* Garath signaled the rest of the Party.

  The gnolls between the towers moved to intercept Auto, who veered toward the left tower on four churning legs. Bill and the Golem covered Auto's backside as the gnolls gave chase. Bill growled enthusiastically and barreled into the nearest gnoll, then bit, ripped, and chewed on its legs for all he was worth. The Dreadreaver followed suit, smashing his clublike arm into the face of another. The other two got a closeup view of Atlas' flashy swords as he engaged them both with wide, sweeping strikes.

  When the Garath and Auto reached the tower, the Unibear reared back on hind legs and put his two front claws up on the stone tower as Garath sprinted up his spine. The fluffy cat sprang to Auto’s head, then jumped as high as he could toward the opening at the top of the tower.

  Even with a Unibear boost and the incredible athleticism of a cat, he came up a few feet short. His front claws found purchase between stacked stones then his back legs worked like a springboard to cover the gap. Garath reached the top of the tower, ready to dispatch the gnolls frantically reloading their deadly ranged weapons.

  The second he slipped into the crowded tower, Garath summoned Handsome into existence and, together, they released a pair of Blights. Two dark purple rings spread out, infecting all three gnolls. They’d been in the process of reloading their weapons when the little white cat slipped in, but as one, dropped their crossbows, pulled daggers from their belts, and lunged. Handsome didn't stick around. Instead, he flew to hover just outside the tower and sent a volley of Death Bolts into it.

  As he scampered between sloppy attacks and furry legs, Garath was reminded of his first few hours of combat in House Cat form. Not unlike what had happened with the Fetid Ghouls and Reanimated Bones during the first two waves of The Culling, the gnolls in the tower did much more damage to each other than they did to the quick, shifty white cat.

  While avoiding stabs, slashes, and kicks, Garath kept his eyes open for an escape route— should the situation become dire, he wanted a way out. Unfortunately, the only accessible way out was the way he’d come in. He did see a wooden hatch that presumably led below, but it was shut. There was no way his House Cat form could yank it open. If it came down to a choice between going back to his pathetic human form or dying it was a no-brainer, but Garath didn’t think it would.

  By the time the 15-second cooldown elapsed and Blight was available once again, all three gnolls were bleeding from multiple open wounds and their Healthbars were already below half. Garath released another Blight just before taking a dagger to his hind quarters. Pain seared, blood sprayed, and Garath fled.

  He leaped to the ledge then scrambled out of the tower and onto the peak of the domed roof, narrowly avoiding a desperate dagger strike that burst through the leather. He was only able to breath easily again when three lines in his combat log showed the Experience gained from slayi
ng three Gnoll Rangers.

  From atop the tower, Garath witnessed something truly unsettling taking place deeper inside the gnoll camp.

  The gnoll that had split off from the campfire was walking out of the large tent within the camp, followed out by a taller, more muscular canid. The latter was adorned with feathers and wore dark leather armor. It held a staff in one hand, marking it in Garath’s mind instantly as a magic user.

  The smaller gnoll, along with the two standing guard on either side of the structure’s entryway, knelt in front of the leather-clad magic user with their heads bowed. The big gnoll held his hands out and started chanting, using growls and barks in an arrhythmic cadence. Black fire enveloped his hands and weapon. The chant grew louder and more urgent as the gnoll worked itself into a canid crescendo. The three gnoll's howled together when the chant came to an end—and that’s when things got weird.

  All three kneeling gnoll’s howls ended abruptly, and they each fell to the ground with their bodies suddenly blackened as if scorched by unseen fire. The bigger gnoll dropped to one knee and raised both hands, one still gripping its staff. It inhaled deeply and tendrils of the smoke rising from the dead gnolls twisted and writhed as they were pulled into the caster’s body.

  The large gnoll exhaled a dense cloud containing the twisted life essence of its willing sacrifices. A gnoll-shaped figurine appeared atop the gnoll's staff as the dark cloud coalesced into a vaguely humanoid shape, growing darker and denser with each passing second until it solidified into a hulking, pure-black gnoll. A second set of arms sprouted beneath the first, and a Lochaber axe appeared in each black paw. It was the stuff of nightmares, standing about ten feet tall with rippling muscles and fur darker than the night around it.

  *Guys,* Garath projected worriedly.

  *I see it,* Auto replied. *Get down from there, Homie. We’re going to need everyone for that thing.*