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

by Craig Kobayashi

  Daisy looked a little hesitant. “Can Sharon maybe give you a hand?” she asked, her tone delicate.

  Garath flushed.

  “I don’t mind,” Sharon said. “What’re we making, chef Garath?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Sharon. I've got this,” Garath told her.

  Bill came hauling ass around the corner with a mouth full of sticks, and dropped the drool-covered kindling at Garath’s feet unceremoniously. Garath patted Bill’s head appreciatively before the demon-dog turned and ran off to gather more. “But I do need to borrow that huge pot you have.”

  Garath willed open his Items panel to go over his food inventory just as Handsome dropped a single, tiny stick onto the pile that Bill had started near Garath’s feet. The Cambionic Flayer lazily flapped away, presumably to go find the smallest stick he could and bring it back. Sharon, seeing that the Necrologist had adopted the vacant expression of navigating the MENU panels, placed her cooking pot and its lid next to the little pile of firewood then left him to it.

  Garath’s foodstuffs were limited, but he still had a solid selection from the pilfering of the mall’s canned and packaged goods. He pieced together what he could, a hand-sized black disk appearing each time he needed to retrieve an item. He pulled can after can from his inventory, stacking them next to the cooking pot. He’d never had to cook for so many people before, so he decided to err on the side of caution to make sure everyone would have enough to eat. In other words, Garath tremendously over-planned.

  When he was pretty sure he’d pulled out everything he would need, Garath’s eyes wandered across the grid space of his Items panel to eventually fall on Warrion’s daggers. He wondered what the Assassin would say if he knew that Garath had not only looted his corpse, but was now planning to use his precious weapons as a can opener. The thought made him smile. He retrieved one of the daggers and closed his Items panel.

  Ingredients ready, Garath stabbed open a few cans of pre-cooked and shredded chicken - only noticing then that Bill must have returned with several mouthfuls of firewood in the time it had taken him to decide what to make. He stacked the wood to get a fire going but was stopped by Jebawon before giving Daisy the go-ahead to Blast! it.

  "That's a good way to stack wood for a campfire," Jebawon told him gently, "but not the best way to make a cooking fire. Can I show you?"

  Garath was surprised, but nodded encouragingly. "Yes please," he said. "I didn't know you could cook?"

  "I wouldn't say that," Jebawon said seriously. He bent and started tossing some of the kindling Garath had arranged into a separate pile. "But I am an eagle scout. We go over these things."

  After tossing out the sticks he deemed to be 'not dry enough', Jebawon started looking for a good spot to set up the cooking fire. "There," he said, pointing to a large egg-shaped rock sticking out of the ground a few feet away. "That would make a perfect chimney rock. Let's see if we can find some round rocks, about the size of a dinner-plate, to make up the formation."

  And so they did. Together, Jebawon and Garath wandered around to gather the rocks. When the Tamer was satisfied, they returned to the 'chimney rock' and placed the smaller rocks nearby to create an upside-down U shape with the chimney rock at the top. After that, Jebawon lined the earth between the rocks with the smallest and driest sticks he could find in Bill's ever-growing pile of firewood, borrowing Warrion's dagger briefly to shred the branches into proper tinder.

  At Jebawon's insistence, Daisy did not Blast! the carefully prepared cooking fire. Instead, she used the fire spell on a dry branch that Jebawon placed in the sand about twenty feet away. He then used the make-shift torch to light the tinder and began adding similarly sized chunks of hardwood to the fire in an even line across the U-shaped cooking area. Within a few minutes the fire was blazing in earnest.

  "The idea is for all the wood to burn itself into charcoal around the same time. That'll make the heat as even as possible anywhere on your cooking grate," Jebawon told Garath.

  "My what?" Garath asked, blinking rapidly.

  Jebawon's shoulders slumped. "You don't have a cooking grate, do you?"

  "I do not," Garath confirmed, chagrined. "Wait! I may have something that would do the trick." He then switched from verbal communication to projecting his thoughts over the Raid com. *Auto, where you at? We need to go on a little field trip.*

  “The fire should be ready for cooking soon,” Jebawon told Garath. “So don’t take too long or we’ll have to shovel it out and start over.”

  Garath nodded his acknowledgement before leaving with Auto toward the shore. He received a prompt informing him that Bill and Handsome had been automatically returned to their confines within his mind due to the distance between them as he crossed the threshold. Garath didn’t mind. He was sure that Bill had already collected plenty of firewood and Handsome hadn’t been adding much to the pile anyway.

  Nearly half an hour later, the Necrologist and the Chimerist returned from the calm dark waters of the ocean within The Tower. Jebawon raised an eyebrow in amused confusion when he saw Garath, sopping wet and approaching the Party, holding what looked almost like a cooking grate in one hand. Having been among the Party members that had let Garath and Auto dive to the bottom of the islands to activate them for the fish weir, Jebawon probably had no idea how the Necrologist managed to bring exactly what he needed from some strange ocean inside of a Dungeon, but he laughed and shrugged as he continued poking at the coals. The timing was perfect. The fire was finally ready to cook.

  There was much more ‘winging it’ in Garath’s preparation of the meal than any person with his lack of experience in cooking had any business attempting. As luck would have it though, the strange combination of canned ingredients and plain white rice he’d thrown into the pot smelled amazing and drew the attention of several Raid Group members as it neared readiness. Thanks to a handful of Sharon’s subtle and well-timed comments about the order in which Garath was adding ingredients, everything turned out better than anyone was hoping for.

  The group of adventurers sat around a second fire on large rocks and logs arranged to accommodate them, delightedly ingesting what Garath dubbed the ‘Thishrak stir fry’.

  “Hey Atlas,” Garath said. “Since you make your own gear, what have you been getting from the chests?”

  Atlas looked up from his plate at hearing his name. “Oh,” he said, swallowing. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve been getting gear enhancements. It’s kind of like an enchantment on top of the stats my stuff already has. I didn’t know this was even a possibility until today. At the easy dungeons we did, I kept getting weird Reagents that I don’t even know what to do with.”

  Garath nodded. He’d like to learn more about the enhancements Atlas had been getting, but his tired mind couldn’t come up with anything specific to ask. The Mage Smith himself didn’t wait for more questions either, and immediately shoveled more stir fry into his mouth.

  “Alice,” Auto said between mouthfuls of his fried rice, “the other group you came here with…” he stopped, chewing his food and swallowing a too-large bite. “How many different areas or chests did they do before everyone died?”

  Alice looked up from her meal and turned to Auto. “The first group started in Natsilane’s Realm, where we are now. They never made it to a second zone. That bear spirit, Si-am’, proved to be too much for them. The second group was in The Tower for nearly a week, but it was different then.”

  “Different how?” Obawon asked.

  “There were chests, like the ones we experienced today. And Spirit Guardians, like the ones we experienced today,” Alice said. She set down her fork. “But The Tower did not give them these requests before facing the Guardians. At least one member of their group died in each conflict with a Spirit Guardian. Eventually there was only one of them left, but her full Raiment of Dungeon rewards made her very powerful. Alone, she fought on through another area, a desert, until she faced a Spirit Guardian on her own, and died.”

 
; After dinner, the Party continued discussing the Dungeon around the campfire for a while, but they were exhausted. With the sky awash in the colors of twilight, they scheduled a watch rotation and readied their bedding for the night. It was decided that, apart from Daisy, each member of the Raid Group was assigned a one-hour slot to keep watch, giving the Party a full eight hours to rest up before getting back at it in the morning. Conveniently enough, Alice was able to provide a timer that would alert them when it was time for their watch duty and relieve them when their shift was up. Garath took the first watch, walking a little ways away from the group settling in for the night.

  He pulled Bill into existence beside him. Even with Garath’s inhuman sense of smell, Bill’s was still much stronger, and his other senses left Garath’s looking paltry at best. Additionally, Garath’s mind was prone to wander. Bill’s was not. The Cambionic Fel Hound had shown that he had the ability for simple reasoning, and his willingness and competence in following Garath’s directions were impressive. But left without direction or the need for problem solving, Bill existed on pure consciousness. No deeper thought. No internal musings or ponderings, just reaction. He would be a great help in keeping watch and Garath intended to keep him on watch to assist throughout the night. He wasn’t sure if the summoned demon needed to sleep at all, but if keeping him up all night had a negative effect on Bill, Garath would let him rest the next day.

  The first watch was quiet. Waves rolled gently up the white sandy beach. Sparse fluffy clouds drifted slowly, almost imperceptibly, across the dimming night sky. A light breeze rustled the leafless branches of the trees on the dead mountain to the northwest. Bill sat on his haunches nearby, tongue hanging out to one side and a steady stream of drool trickling out of the other. The Fel Hound was alert, but did not seem to sense anything that may be a cause for worry. Garath resisted the urge to access the forums and poke around—some lingering obsession with keeping his mind busy by scrolling through the words of others left behind from his cell phone addiction. He was only going to be on watch for an hour. He could do his friends the simple service of being completely present for his entire watch. After a few minutes, Garath’s thoughts drifted to the conversation that was had over dinner, though his senses remained alert.

  Garath found it interesting that The Tower hadn’t issued quests to the other groups that Alice had accompanied before allowing them to face the Spirit Guardians. Why would it change its M.O. for them? Perhaps he was thinking about it the wrong way. Perhaps the fact that his group was issued quests to complete before facing the Guardians wasn’t the important difference. The Tower seemed to be asking his Raid Group for help with its own problems and maybe that was what he should be focusing on. Tired as he was though, Garath had a hard time focusing on anything at all and, before he knew it, the timer that Alice had set up on his interface appeared in the forefront of his vision to let him know his shift was up.

  Athios had the second shift and she walked up to the little hill where Garath and Bill sat watch with tired eyes. Garath smiled widely as she approached, but his warm greeting was returned with an icy glare before Athios looked away from him, folding her arms.

  “Everything alright?” he asked dumbly.

  “Fine,” she replied.

  Garath’s mind went into red alert. ‘Fine’ was not a good sign, even an idiot like Garath knew that. He didn’t know what to do, but he did know he had to do something. He and Athios may not be in a serious relationship yet, but his feelings for this dark, quiet girl were too strong to do the one thing he wanted to do at that moment, take her ‘fine’ at face value and get some shut-eye. He knew things would only get worse between them if he did that.

  “In my, admittedly limited, experience,” Garath said, looking up to catch her eye, “the answer ‘fine’ almost always means ‘not fine’.”

  “Oh yeah?” Athios asked, making eye-contact only briefly before looking back toward the ocean, her arms still folded.

  “Yeah,” Garath said, getting to his feet. “Athios, I don’t want to do this every time I do something stupid.”

  “Excuse me?” she demanded, placing one hand on her hip.

  Garath heard Worf in his mind yelling that a warning shot had just been fired off the port bow. He ignored it.

  “I’m not some storybook hero that always does the right thing. If you haven’t noticed that about me yet, I don’t think you ever will.” Garath met her eyes. “I really, really like you. I want to explore our relationship and find out where it leads, but I can’t if you’re just going to fold your arms and tell me everything is fine when you’re obviously upset.”

  Athios looked a little ashamed. “It really is nothing,” Athios said. “I’ve just been stressing out a lot today. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m going to take that at face value then,” Garath told her. “If you’re stressed, why don’t you come sit down? I’ll rub your back while we take your shift together.”

  Athios blushed behind her raven hair, but happily agreed. Together, the Necrologist and the Dimensionalist watched the sky darken into night. Waves crashed against the white sand as Garath rubbed her shoulders and neck, the tension of the day melting away from Athios as he did. When the watch-shift was over, they returned to the campfire to ready their beds for the night. Garath gave Bill a mental command to remain on watch and keep whoever was there with him awake if they started to slip.

  Chapter Thirty-Two – Extra Credit Is for Overachievers

  Garath woke early the next morning, a pre-dawn blush lighting the world within the Dungeon around him. He got up, wondering if he could figure out some way to get the fire going without having to wake Daisy, but he was confused to see that what they had been using as a firepit the night before had been replaced with something else while they’d been sleeping.

  Another cursed chest.

  Garath rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking again at the chest. How long has it been here? He needed to find somebody to ask that exact question.

  Auto had taken the final watch. The Chimerist sat in the form of what Garath assumed to be a dog and bear hybrid with the Fel Hound, Bill, at his side per Garath’s instructions. With a mental show of praise and appreciation, Garath dismissed the diligent demon-pup back to the confines of his mind. The Fel Hound’s sudden disappearance startled Auto. In his strange hybrid form, the Chimerist jumped, looking around hurriedly. When he saw Garath slowly, sleepily approaching, Auto shifted back into his natural form.

  “How’s the morning been?” Garath asked.

  “Really quiet,” Auto told him. “I’m surprised that nothing happened all night.”

  Garath nodded. “I’ll take it you didn’t see the new chest sitting where our fire used to be, then?”

  Auto looked confused, mind still muddled in the early hours of the day. He seemed to understand what Garath had said, but it took a few seconds before the Chimerist turned to look for himself. The confusion on his face intensified when he saw the chest. Garath was hoping Auto had seen exactly how or when the chest had appeared, but he guessed it didn’t really matter. In fact, not having to look around, wondering what they were supposed to do next was a blessing.

  “How long has that been there?” Auto asked.

  “Wish I could tell you,” Garath said with a shrug.

  Over the following hour, the rest of the group rolled out of their makeshift beds. Garath and Auto made a new fire pit and were preparing Crystillium-Infused Coffee. Obawon provided each Raid Group member with an energy bar for breakfast.

  There was little conversation around the morning fire as the group of adventurers drank their coffee and ate their breakfast. Once the sweet brown liquid started doing its job, the group began to discuss next steps.

  "It won't do us any good waiting around," Obawon was saying. "We may as well activate it and see what happens next. Right?"

  "I tend to agree," Alice said.

  Garath noticed that everyone had turned to look at him. "Let's rock and roll then,"
he said.

  The group took a moment to prepare and get into formation before Auto, now in his tanking Rhino-Bear form, approached the chest. He reached out to place one clawed grey hand on its top, but retracted it just short of making contact.

  *You guys,* Auto said over the Raid communication channel, *there's something scratched into the chest.*

  "What's it say?" Daisy asked, poking her head out from behind Athios.

  *It's another poem,* Auto said.

  "Well read it to us then," Athios said.

  Auto cleared his throat.

  Within the tree intentions gaged

  Your fate met only mirrored rage

  Worth appraised, but no journey's end

  Unless my purpose you comprehend

  Until you do, path won't be clear

  Forever you will fight in here

  "Okay," Atlas said, folding his arms and looking pensive. "This one makes even less sense than the last one."

  Garath wasn't so sure. He thought back to the conversation around the campfire the night before. Alice had said that the previous group she accompanied on their ultimately fatal Dungeon attempt had gone on for several days, dwindling their numbers until only one remained. She'd been the most powerful of them all by the time the Dungeon finally defeated her. Garath wondered what the poem had meant by the words 'my purpose'.

  "Alice," Garath said, "when you were here before, were there more poems like this?"

  "Negative," she replied.

  Garath looked disappointed. "Any idea what The Tower's purpose might be?"

  "I have been considering it," she said. "I cannot be certain, but I have a working theory."

  "Mind sharing with the class?" Athios asked.

  "I do not," Alice told her, expression unreadable. "Life. I believe its purpose is to create and preserve life."

  Garath found merit in her theory. They'd spent the vast majority of the day before directing salmon toward the dead mountain, after all. There really wasn't even much fighting involved. That bear was a bit of a dick, though. But then, they did charge the thing, weapons raised. Could Garath really blame the creature for defending itself? Would it have attacked them at all, had they not charged in, ready for battle?