The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) Craig Kobayashi (sad books to read .txt) 📖

His mace lay on the ground and three skeletons stood over him as he dropped to his knees. The nameplate above his head indicated thatFergus only had 10% of his maximum Health remaining and Garath almost looked away, torn for a split second between wanting to save the man and not wanting to watch the butchery that was about to take place.

Suddenly, a green glow enveloped the muscular man and his health-bar jumped to just under 50%. A flash of white followed it, and another. Seconds after he was almost certainly going to be a human shish kabob, color and life came back to him and Fergus was almost at full Health. His bleeding continued and small amounts of HP drained away each second, but he would live. Garath searched for the source and was surprised to see Sharon standing in the doorway with green light surrounding both outstretched hands. Several other designated healers stood there with her, each scanning the melee ahead for someone to heal. And Garath grinned, beyond thrilled that his plan to add healers to the group panned out - and even more than that, that Sharon was leading the way. Maybe if he wasn’t fighting a life and death battle with a seemingly unending horde of undead soldiers he would take the time to pat himself on the back. But as it was, Garath had work to do.

Decision made, Garath targeted the skeletons around Fergus and let Death Bolts fly as fast as he could. The 9 Mana cost was starting to add up with repeated casting and his Mana was already running low, but the work the Healers did to save Fergus’ life would all be for not if the skeletons standing over him weren't immediately dispatched.

Garath let loose a black orb that connected with his target while Athios sent a silver disk from her hands and Warrion took off in Fergus’ direction. Athios’ target reappeared in the sky as Garath's second Death Bolt flew toward his target and Warrion raised both daggers with an underhand grip. All at once, the three enemies shattered and flashed neon before dispersing into nothing.

The group of fighters secured the double-doors of the brick building and everything was going to plan. The majority of the skeletons that had spawned within the fenced area surrounding the brick building had been dispatched. The healers stayed in the entrance and Garath formed up with the other fighters, their backs to the doors.

His heart sank as he took in the view. Reanimated Bones were jumping down from the chain link in every direction with more climbing the fence behind them. Beyond that, dozens (if not hundreds) more were moving quickly in their direction with rusty weapons raised - stopping only to slaughter anything in their path as they made their way to the old brick building, apparently attracted to groupings of humans. As he completed his scan of the surrounding area, the Raid leader and Necrologist noticed a sign on the wall of that building for the first time that read, ‘The Church of Immaculate Conception’.

‘I'm going to have to remember to make a joke about that later,’ Garath thought to himself.

Chapter 8

Breather

Just over an hour into The Culling, Garath stood breathing heavily between the clashing melee outside the building and the group of healers flashing multicolored beams of magic from the doorway as the sun’s golden light poured over the mountains to the east. The Necrologist channeled every available point of Mana into Death Bolt after Death Bolt at the thinning, but still oncoming horde of aggressive undead. As his blue Mana bar neared empty, Garath's mind began to fog and he knew he needed to let his Mana replenish or risk losing his life to a slower reaction time. The group seemed to have the swarm of skellys under control, bottlenecked at the entrance to the building, so he felt comfortable enough to step away while his Mana regenerated.

He stepped past Sharon and the other healers flashing green and white as they sent recovery spells to aid the fighters outside. Once through the second set of doors, Garath took a good look at the Raid members inside the building. Most of the scared, cowering people he expected to see there - the pregnant woman and her four young children, the blind man and his wife - he also noticed the young girl that had blasted open the doors holding onto an old woman's arm, and Mark was sitting with his arms around his knees, shaking. It occurred to Garath then that the people behind the healers were utterly helpless. If even a few of the murderous undead found a way inside, they could legitimately kill all of these people. Mark aside, Garath didn’t want that blood on his hands.

Garath was sure the fighting force could hold off the level one skeletons bottlenecked outside the doors but the building did have another entrance on the opposite side. It took a little mental flexing, but Garath found that he was able to alter his next words to only reach the eleven fighters - his Raid interface confirmed the change with a small 'ear' icon next to those his voice would reach.

"I don't know if these skellys are smart enough to break in the other side but we should station at least one of us behind the group at all times as a precaution. We can do it in shifts since this shit-show is supposed to last a whole day."

"We get it G, you're tired. Go take a resty-rest while we kill shit," Warrion replied on the same channel, his breath heavy between words. The Assassin, a few feet outside the doors, had just discovered that the pommels of his small blades did more damage to the undead than the stabby ends and the gangly little guy was just running around, clocking the skeletons in the back of the head like some morbid, fucked up game