After that, I began to feel excitement churn inside me. There really was only one thing left to do.
CHAPTER 25
I felt tremendously excited as I checked every chamber in my dungeon. It was like I was in a house and I was preparing for the king to visit, or something.
I checked all my traps, my puzzles, my monsters. I made sure the doors all locked and unlocked as they should. I even tested the riddle doors to make sure they had memorized their riddles. They were sleeping, and I had to wake the grouchy buggers up. Yep, everything was working.
Even so, this didn’t feel right. I didn’t have enough of anything. Enough traps, enough monsters.
To quell my nerves, I spent some essence creating four more fire beetles, as well as a bogbadug and a stone dwarf troll. I assigned these creatures to be warriors. This pushed me up to my monster limit of 11, but it made me feel a little more confident.
I then rechecked everything again and again.
I was putting it off, I knew. I was approaching the moment that is every dungeon core’s destiny to face, and I had always looked forward to it. Now that it was here, I felt a little worried. I began to think of all the things that might go wrong, all the little ways a party of heroes could outwit me.
Finally, I realized that I was acting like Tomlin, and I knew that I would have told Tomlin to get a hold of himself.
So, I got a hold of myself, and I went to the most northern room in my dungeon, where not so long ago I had placed the beartraps, pitfalls, and the trick looping tunnel.
This was it. The place where my dungeon would open to the heroic public. Time to craft an entrance to the dungeon, and from there, a signpost would be created above.
Tomlin, Wylie, and the fire beetles were with me now. I guessed they could sense the tension in me, because they stayed on the far side of the room, quiet and watchful. I was glad to have them there.
“I suppose you should dig out a slope to the surface, Wylie,” I said.
“Wylie dig! Tomlin too?”
“Yes, Tomlin will dig, too. Penance for being so rude to Gary.”
My friend folded his arms. “Tomlin was surprised, is all. He has already introduced self to Gary.”
I felt like I had been a little harsh on him lately, but I was only trying to make him braver. Managing creatures really was a balancing act.
“Thank you, Tomlin. You still need to dig. This is a momentous occasion, and it only feels right that we all take part. I will even use my core arms to dig some of the slope.”
“Dark Lord dig?” said Wylie.
“Yes, Dark Lord dig,” I replied. “I dug the very first tunnel in this place, I’ll have you know.”
My kobolds walked toward the assigned wall. Just as they reached it, something occurred to me.
“Hold on!” I said. “Our dungeon needs a name, does it not?”
“Name!” shouted Wylie.
“Let’s see. I already had a few ideas, but they didn’t grab me. There was just something missing…ah. I know what we should do.”
My kobold friends looked at me now, patient in their kobold way, and I was surprised to realize how much affection I felt towards them.
“We will each choose a word for our dungeon name, my friends. Because this is our dungeon, not just mine. It feels right that we’ll all name it. Yes?”
“Agree!” said Wylie.
“Tomlin thanks you. This feels like his home.”
I smiled at that. “Good. Our two eldest and most high-leveled fire beetles can name it, too. Beetles? Get over here!”
The level-four warrior fire beetles scuttled into the room.
“Okay,” I said. “I will give the first part of the name. Then Wylie, Tomlin, and the two beetles. Ready?”
“Ready!”
“Tomlin ready.”
“Here we go then. I now name this dungeon…The Whistling….”
“Gary!” said Wylie.
“Caverns,” said Tomlin.
“Fight!” “Kill,” said the beetles.
Oh, for demon’s sake. I’d really let myself in for it, hadn’t I? But I wasn’t a core who went back on his word.
“Very well. I name this place of terror, The Whistling Gary Caverns of Fight Kill.”
CHAPTER 26
“Hmm. The dungeon rune just lit up,” the barbarian said to himself.
The hero party was on the eastern outskirts of the town now, where they had set up their tents.
Most traveling hero parties stayed in taverns, but this party was a thrifty bunch. They never wasted gold, nor the opportunity to earn it. Besides, if a hero party couldn’t bear sleeping outdoors, how could they cope with a dungeon?
The barbarian had utter faith in his rogue, mage, and bard friends, but he wasn’t sure about the two brothers. Right now, the rogue was having a practice duel with Bill, the older brother, while the mage was in deep conversation with Lisle, the younger one.
The boys were greener than a frog’s arse, and their skills were way underdeveloped.
Even so, there was a glimmer of hope. Bill certainly knew the basics of swordplay, while Lisle could cast a fire spell. Sure, the resulting fireball was barely bigger than a plum, but it was something.
After talking to them a little, the barbarian had come to both like and pity them. They had once wanted to join the king’s army and the mage college, respectively, but their tale was one of woe.
The barbarian had heard lots of tales of woe. In fact, one prerequisite of earning your hero license was that you had suffered sufficient tragedy in your past. If you didn’t have it, you at least made up a sad-sounding backstory.
The boys’ story was all too sad, all too genuine…all too bog-standard, actually.
A father killed by bandits. A sick mother. The usual stuff.
He had to admit, though, that they had the makings of heroes. Perhaps conquering this dungeon would help them unlock their potential.
The barbarian stood up and approached them all.
“Gather round,” he told them all. “This is it, my friends. The dungeon rune has lit, and we know that Bill here was telling the truth.”
“I told you!”
“Yes, well. It’s time. We all know that when a dungeon opens, it’s not long before other heroes arrive. We always, always get beaten to it. And once a dungeon is beaten for the first time, it always gets tougher.”
“Preach, forsooth” said the bard. “Whatever forsooth means.”
“This time it’s different. A new dungeon has opened, and we’re right near it. I tell you, the town tavern will get business like never before. We got lucky meeting these brothers, and we should capitalize on it. Get your swords, shields, and spells ready. It is time for our first dungeon, my friends.”
“Wait,” said Bill. “This is your first dungeon?”
“Well, yes.”
“You never said that.”
“I never said we were veterans, either. But every veteran begins with his first dungeon, and this is a new one, with a newbie core ready to be plundered and smashed into dust. Get ready!”
CHAPTER 27
It was all well and good the barbarian telling them to get ready, but Bill didn’t feel ready. Sure, he’d practiced with his sword again for the first time in months, and Lisle was using spells once more, but he still felt utterly unprepared.
Do it for mother, he told himself. Do it so your little sister doesn’t spend her time digging in dangerous tunnels.
So, feeling motivated, if a little scared, he followed the barbarian and his friends to the dungeon.
“This doesn’t look much like a dungeon,” he said when they reached the little mana-lit signpost and the hole in the ground. It led to a slope that went far underground.
The barbarian shrugged. “There’s a sign and a hole. What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. A better entrance, I suppose. Maybe demonic statues, an iron door. What does the sign say? Let’s see… ‘The Whistling Gary Caverns of Figh
t Kill?’”
“What the hell kind of name is that?” asked Lisle.
The bard shrugged. “It has a certain charm to it.”
“This is a new core. A stupid one, probably. All the better for us. Come on. Rogue, lead the way.”
“One thing,” said Bill. “Why do you call each other mage and rogue?”
“When you know a man’s name, it’s harder to watch him die.”
The rogue went ahead of them, holding a mana lamp in one hand and his dagger in the other. They followed the slope deep into the ground, and soon the world around them was dark, and the only sounds were their quiet footsteps and the bard singing softly under his breath.
Soon, they came to a door. Just a plain wooden door.
“This is it,” said the rogue.
“Good luck, friends,” said the barbarian. “Stick together. Traps, monsters, and loot await.”
The rogue pushed open the door, and they all filed into the dungeon, staying right back against the entrance door. The door slammed shut behind them.
Now this felt a little more dungeon-like. Cavernous, dark, and eerily silent. A cold breeze slithered over Bill’s skin, and he heard scampering sounds in the distance.
His stomach clenched then. Back when he was training to enlist in the army, he’d often gone into the forest to hunt wolves and things like that. He’d slain things before. Never dungeon monsters, though.
He felt Lisle jostle him. “Are you okay?” he asked his brother.
“A little scared.”
“We’re doing this for Vedetta and mother. Remember that, and you’ll be fine.”
The barbarian addressed them now. “My friends, this is where caution is most vital. The early parts of a dungeon are usually free from traps, since the cores save their surprises for when we get further in. Nevertheless, we will be like wily foxes, we will creep through and leave nothing to chance. Our rogue will detect traps for us, and as long as we follow him and do not rush ahead, we will be fine.”
“Got it,” said Bill, even though there was not the slightest chance he would rush on.
“Then, my friends, let’s do this. Be wise, be brave, and listen to our rogue.”
The rogue grinned at them all. “Don’t sweat it. I studied traps for years. This’ll be easy. Watch and learn.”
The rogue took just a single step forward when the ground suddenly broke beneath him.
He flapped his arms and screamed, but it was no use.
He tumbled down, down into the new hole, and then there was a thud. His screams stopped now. Bill felt dread squeeze his stomach.
The barbarian ran his hand through his hair. Sweat had broken out on his forehead. He took a careful step forward and peered down the hole.
“…Rogue?” he said, his voice higher than usual. “Are you…are you alright?”
There was no answer.
The bard joined the barbarian. “He’s dead! He’s gods damned dead! One bloody step and he copped it!”
The mage began mumbling to himself. “Oh no. this isn’t good. You never said we would die down here.”
The barbarian scoffed. “I never said we would die? This is a dungeon.”
“A new dungeon with a stupid core, you said!”
“I…uh…never said…”
Bill could tell the barbarian had completely lost his sense of calm. It had all been an act, he realized. His big, tough leader act was a sham.
The group had taken one step in the dungeon and they’d lost their rogue, and now their leader had misplaced his courage. Lisle pressed closer to Bill now.
But Bill felt strangely calm.
“We should press on,” he said.
“Bill?” said Lisle. “What are you saying? What would happen to Mother if we…”
“We can’t go back, Lisle. See? The door is locked behind us. We have to go on.”
“Oh gods,” said the mage. “Oh, gods.”
Bill couldn’t quite believe how utterly free from fear he was. Perhaps his earlier dread had been borne out of the threat of one of them dying. Now that it had happened and one of them had died, his fears had nothing to cling to.
Maybe he had been cut out for the army after all. Maybe he shouldn’t have let their father’s death stop him.
“Lisle,” he said. “Cast fireballs on the floor. Try and cover as much of it as possible.”
“There are no monsters.”
“We don’t have a rogue, so we can’t detect traps. This is the only way of activating them without getting hurt.”
And so, Lisle conjured up his tiny fireballs, casting one after another against different parts of the ground. Soon, they heard a metallic snapping sound, and Bill saw a bear trap not too far ahead.
After casting almost twenty fireballs, Lisle strained his face, then stopped. “I’m out of mana,” he said.
Bill nodded. “It looks like the rest of the room is clear, at any rate. See the door on the far side? Better press on.”
Bill led them onwards, while his brother, the barbarian, the mage, and the bard followed until they reached the door at the end of the room.
CHAPTER 28
I floated above the pedestal in my core room, casting my core vision out over my dungeon. I was a very, very happy core.
Barely minutes after getting my first party of heroes in my dungeon, I’d already bagged one of them! I couldn’t exactly check, but I was willing to guess that I’d broken the academy record for the quickest hero kill by a graduate.
Delicious, just delicious.
Even better than the feeling of success was the reward that it brought. See, killing bogbadugs and rats to level up was useful, but slow.
Killing a hero, though…
Just one measly hero corpse leveled me up twice. Yes, twice!
You have leveled up to 5!
- Total essence increased to 380
- Existing crafting categories expanded
- Dungeon capacity increased: 14 rooms, 18 traps, 10 puzzles, 16 monsters
Having all this new essence was such a rush that I almost crafted a few new monsters there and then, to capitalize on my progress and make things even tougher for the pathetic heroes.
I had to restrain myself.
Things change once heroes enter a dungeon. The mystical rules that govern essence alter a little. When a party of looters traipse into a core’s labyrinth, essence vines temporarily stop working.
The effect is that whatever essence I use while the heroes are here, won’t be replenished until the battle is over.
So, I had to be a cautious little core and save my essence. I had to watch the heroes and think strategically, only using essence when absolutely necessary.
I turned my gaze back to them now. Despite Bolton’s reward, these heroes didn’t look very tough. Their rogue had already fallen into a pit, leaving just a barbarian, mage, bard, and a couple of rookies.
The rookies were the least of my troubles. One of them seemed to be cocky; he was leading the way, gripping his sword and directing the others. I could tell he was young and unpracticed, and I didn’t think he or his other rookie friend would last long.
Right now, the party was walking in the circular trick tunnel that I had made. I laughed my stupid, gemmy laugh as I watched them go around in circles.
Seriously, they did this for a full hour before one of them, the guy with the lute strapped to his back, pointed out to the others that they didn’t seem to be making much progress.
I wondered if I should send a couple of fire beetles to the tunnels to throw them off a little. Hmm. It would be entertaining to watch.
No, better to wait. Let them get tired and scared. They’d be much easier to kill that way.
Finally, the party made their way back into the entrance chamber, where the fully-fledged mage cast a spell. A great golden eye floated from his fingertips. It blinked, and then it spread light over my walls, revealing the disguised door which led to the rest of my dungeon.
Damn mages an
d their stupid spells.
CHAPTER 29
Bill couldn’t believe how inept they were. He’d realized they were walking in circles ages ago, but the barbarian would hear none of it. He probably just didn’t like ceding authority to a young guy without a hero license, one who hadn’t used his sword in years.
Nevertheless, the bard eventually made him see sense, and they headed back to the entrance, where the mage cast a spell that made Lisle’s eyes widen in envy.
“Behold,” said the mage. “A door. My great spell of disillusionment has uncovered it.”
The barbarian turned the handle. “A locked door.”
“A trifling matter.”
The mage used another spell, this time casting a great, spectral key from his palm. With a click, the door opened into a tunnel, and beyond it was another room.
This time, they didn’t walk into an empty room. Instead, there were four beetles with fire on their shells, a strange-looking frog creature, and a little stone dwarf.
“Battle formations,” said the barbarian, who had recovered himself. “Mage, watch our health. Heal those in need. Bard, play your tune of courage.”
The bard swung his lute around and began playing, and the twang of his lute met with the sounds of the beetles scuttling toward them, the frog hopping, and the dwarf lumbering over.
Bill’s newfound courage left him for a second. His all-too-human instincts kicked in, and he found himself backing away.
It was only when Lisle charged forward alongside the barbarian, that he pulled himself together.
Swords struck beetles. Spells fired out. The barbarian gave a war cry, and Bill felt a strange energy fill him, and suddenly he knew he was just that little bit stronger.
The barbarian cleaved through the stone dwarf again and again, only stopping when a great stony fist broke his nose.
The frog leaped across the room, colliding with the bard and sinking its teeth – yes, it had teeth- into his neck.
Bill and Lisle fought side by side, swinging their sword and staff, two brothers watching each other’s backs and striking the beetles again and again.
Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Page 13