Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series)

by Alex Oakchest

  Now, though, I had no such limitation. I could talk to my dungeon mates no matter where they were. And that wasn’t all. I wasn’t limited to just using my core voice with my own dungeon mates anymore. I could use it to speak with anyone. Chief Reginal, Gulliver, even Overseer Bolton.

  Maybe I could even talk to the bloody king of Xynnar if I wanted to!

  Wait…that might be fun. Now, what did the king look like? He’d be sitting on a throne, no doubt. Wearing fancy clothes. He was somewhere north of the wasteland, in one of his royal palaces.

  “Hello?” I said.

  Nothing.

  Huh.

  Now, I pictured Tesca, a gnome who owned a candle and wax shop on Jahn’s row.

  “Hello, Tesca. How are you today?”

  “Wha…who said that?” answered a voice.

  “A ghost,” I said. “Your shop is haunted. Bye!”

  This was glorious! Yes, it seemed that I could only project my core voice to people I had already met. And yes, that took a little of its use away, but it was important, nonetheless. It meant that I would be able to talk to Gulliver whenever I wanted to, without him needing to have my core shavings with him.

  Not only that but with my strengthened core vision, I could watch Morphant’s meetings when people wanted to talk to Sir Dullbright.

  It occurred to me that it might be nice to have a chat with Gulliver, after everything that had happened recently. He always knew how to cheer me up after a battle didn’t completely go my way.

  But no. I still had too much to do. It was true what they said at the academy – a dungeon core’s work was never done.

  My miner kobolds were dripping with sweat. It coated their wolfish snouts and it trickled down the lizard scales that showed in rare patches where their fur didn’t grow. Tarius was slumped on the ground and rubbing his temples while Wylie, Jopvitz, and Klok were gathering their breath.

  “I’m sorry to ask you to work so hard so soon after…what happened to Redjack,” I said.

  “Some time might have been nice, Dark Lord,” said Tarius.

  I noticed that Tarius wasn’t as stern in his request as usual. He wasn’t even wearing his Hed of Dungeon Yunion shirt. I supposed that the death of a fellow miner cut closer to the bone for him since he had lost his best friend, Karson, a while ago.

  “You deserve a break, Tarius. All of you need a rest, and you need time for your thoughts. Unfortunately, we had to excavate tunnels and prison chambers for the girl and the boy. They are too dangerous to keep around in the main chambers, and Cynthia only had the ingredients for a small amount of sedative to stop them using their powers. We couldn’t afford to wait.”

  “Prison chambers finished now,” said Wylie.

  “Wylie helped,” said Tarius. “He put down his whip and took Redjack’s share of the work.”

  “Thank you, Wylye. I know you are all a strong team and that you look out for each other. We will have a remembrance for Redjack and the others who fell today, and I believe Razensen is allowing anyone who desires so to join his meditation this evening. Take the rest of the day and all of tomorrow off.”

  “Will do, Dark Lord,” said Wylie.

  They all filed away and left via the tunnel and headed to the main chambers. Only Klok stayed behind.

  “Need something, Klok?”

  The little kobold scratched his ear. “Dark…uh…Prince of…Malignant,” he began.

  “You mixed up two of my names there, Klok, and you’ve butchered another. Just Dark Lord will do.”

  “Dark Lord,” he said, scratching his ear so much that it bled.

  “I understand you will be upset about Redjack, Klok. I’d like to say this won’t happen again, but this a dungeon, and such things aren’t as rare as we’d hope. Even being a miner here is dangerous. I suggest you spend the next few days with Wylie. He is good to be around after things like this.”

  “It isn’t that, Prince Magnificent.”

  “Again…”

  “When Redjack was killed…I was asleep.”

  “What? You were on mining duty that day, weren’t you?”

  “Yes…but mining tires me more than the others. I am not as good at it, I cannot mine for as long. Redjack said that I could rest while he worked, and he would not say anything. I was asleep when…”

  I remembered seeing Klok lying on the ground near Redjack.

  “When Shadow killed him,” I said.

  Klok stared at the ground so intently I thought his neck would snap and his head would roll off it.

  So, the little kobold had slept through his friend’s murder. Demons below, what was I supposed to do with him?

  Any dungeon core who had even the slightest respect for discipline would have melted him in the alchemy chamber for something like this. If Klok had been awake, I doubted Shadow could sneak up on the two of them.

  But what was I to do? Redjack was already gone. Killing Klok to reinforce dungeon discipline would mean I lost another kobold. And yes, I could always create a new one, but what sort of message would it send to everyone else? What kind of master would I be?

  “Perhaps we’ll have to find something else for you, Klok.”

  “You are sending me away?”

  “No. I mean another role within the dungeon.”

  “You are not going to hurt me?”

  “No, Klok. You are not the one who held the knife. You are not responsible for another’s actions. Leave me now. Spend time with the others or spend it alone, it’s up to you. Though, I would suggest you try and find comfort in your dungeon mates. When I have time, I will think of another role for you.”

  “Thank you, Dark Prince.”

  I sighed. “Go on, Klok. Get lost.”

  Eric, Gary, Tomlin, and I were in the meeting chamber. Tomlin was sitting on a chair, while Gary, whose swollen spider abdomen and leech legs made sitting on a normal chair difficult, settled against a wall.

  Eric the barbarian stayed standing by the tunnel archway. His right leg was wrapped in a spider web cast, under which was a mixture of expensive ointments provided by Cynthia. With any luck, the barbarian would regain full use of his leg once the alchemic mixture began to work. If Mistress Luck wasn’t feeling generous, he would have a limp even when the webbing was removed. Either way, the barbarian was lucky that an alchemist as talented as Cynthia lived nearby.

  “We have a lot to discuss, Eric. You may as well sit,” I said.

  He shook his head, swishing his fabulous hair side to side as he did so.

  “No, Beno. I’ve got nowt to discuss. I’m leaving.”

  I sighed. “I know that your leg means you cannot fight, but you still have plenty of uses for us.”

  “You patronizing sod! This ain’t about what I can and can’t do, lad. I’ve been a barbarian all my life. I’ve broken bones that most people don’t even know exist. This will heal, one way or the other. Don’t go thinking I’m doubting myself.”

  “Is it a matter of coin? I know my rates aren’t the best, but once a few things are settled in Hogsfeate my fortunes will be different.”

  “Isn’t a matter of gold either. It’s more than that. This is about that big hulking monster, Razensen. I won’t work with him, Beno. The bloody creature went insane when we were fighting the pirates. His eyes went red like demon blood, and he wouldn’t respond to me. Started squeezing pirates to death, crushing their bones like they were made of wheat.”

  “His berserker abilities are why he is so useful to me.”

  “Abilities? An ability is something you can control. Something you can improve, even. What that beast has is an affliction. And you wonder why they were posting on the Hogsfeate men-at-arms board for someone to kill him. He’s a bloody menace! I might be a barbarian, Beno, but I will not suffer a hostile work environment.”

  “I wasn’t aware Razensen did this to you. I thought it was one of the pirates. Razensen didn’t mention it.”

  “He won’t bloody remember it, will he? Look, I know he
didn’t mean it. That it wasn’t fully…him. Even so, if you had an axe that had a one in fifty chance of becoming sentient and chopping your own head off, would you use it?”

  “I wouldn’t get rid of such an axe, if that’s what you mean. I’d find another way to utilize its power.”

  “Well, feel free to keep looking. I’m off. Sorry, Beno. I’m going to visit the little wolf and see if it’s true that she’s lost her senses, and then I’m leaving.”

  Using his crutch, Eric hobbled out, talking a step with his good leg and then swinging his casted leg around. It was a while before his footsteps disappeared completely.

  “I can’t say I blame him, Beno, dear chap,” said Gary. “Losing a limb in the line of service has a certain…effect on one’s perceptions of their work.” He held up his stump of a leech leg, which he had lost in battle a while ago.

  Perhaps they had a point. Eric’s leg had been crushed. Gary had lost a limb. Redjack had been murdered. And what happened to me? Not much. Only Dullbright had ever brandished a weapon worthy of killing me, and he was dead.

  I felt a weight upon me.

  Not mentally, but physically.

  I suddenly realized that a leech leg lined with teeth was drooped over my core.

  “Cheer up,” said Gary. “The barbarian will recover. I have barely noticed my lost limb. Truly. I mean, it hasn’t stopped me playing the lute. The best thing you can do, dear chap, is to lead us all.”

  “You’re right. Thank you, Gary. So let’s discuss how, exactly, I need to do that. First of all-”

  “Shadow,” said Tomlin. “First of all we help Shadow. Shadow is our dungeon mate and should be helped first.”

  “Oh, Tomlin. She isn’t the person you once knew. She killed lovely old Redjack,” scoffed Gary.

  “She did,” I said, “but she wasn’t in her right mind. The little witch had used a spell on her, just as she had with Razensen’s old unit.”

  “Is this wishful thinking, Beno?”

  “No!” said Tomlin. “Dark Lord is right!”

  “You saw how demented they were. Whatever power the witch used, she didn’t take Shadow’s intelligence, but she certainly stole her loyalty.”

  “You are such an innocent soul, Beno. You want to believe that Shadow’s mind wasn’t her own, but the clues are there for us to see, my friend. The rogue has never truly been happy here. How many times has she rallied against your leadership? Interrupted meetings to criticize you?”

  “I seem to remember you agreeing with her last time, Gary. Does that make you capable of murdering your dungeon mates?”

  “Ah, well…”

  “Tomlin agrees with Dark Lord. Shadow is sick. Dark Lord must find out how to heal her. Tomlin will help however he can.”

  “It means talking to the witch, which I will have to do anyway, once she’s in her chamber and the sedatives wear off.”

  “Is it safe for you to talk to her?” asked Gary. “Altering Shadow’s mind would be one thing, if that is what happened, but if she were to manipulate you, dear chap, we would all be in trouble.”

  “We’re putting her and the boy in separate prison chambers far away from anyone else. I’ll keep guards posted at the end of the tunnel, keeping a safe enough distance from the actual chambers that she can’t beguile them. We still have a little more sedative on hand, even though it took enough to fell a stone troll just to get the girl to drop. On top of that, only I will go to see her. She can’t do anything to my mind.”

  “Well, you know best, Beno.”

  “I don’t, but I try. Gary, you’re one of my most senior dungeon mates, so I need you to take care of a few things for me.”

  “Anything you desire is but a whisper away.”

  “Right…anyway, I need you to oversee the destruction of the dead pirates’ bodies. Take them to the alchemy chamber and dissolve them into their essence. Put whatever essence class dust is left to one side. Strip whatever armor, weapons, and gold they have and put them in the stores.”

  “Got it.”

  “Now, before I go and talk to the girl, I need to decide something. From what I’ve pieced together from Eric and Razensen’s recollections, all the pirates died except one. It seems that their leader escaped. The guy has seen a lot more of the dungeon than I am comfortable with. If he was clever enough, he could approach a hero guild and sell the information to them. It would mean I have to then spend time and essence rejigging things around here, which is a pain.”

  “If we were going to pursue him, Beno, would it not have been better to do it straight away?”

  “I only got the full story yesterday. It took Razensen the best part of two days to leave his fury fugue completely, and Eric’s been sedated while Cynthia webbed his leg.”

  “Then their captain will be far away, Beno. Hardly seems worth the effort.”

  “I suppose that’s it, then. Thank you for your time, gentlemen.”

  “Tomlin has a request,” said the kobold.

  “Oh?”

  “Horrible little girl set fire to Tomlin’s plants. Tomlin knows that you bought powder from Cynthia to extinguish fires in cultivation room, but this was situation where Tomlin couldn’t get to powder, because equally horrible freckle boy was threatening to use powers.”

  I resisted the temptation to rebuke Tomlin for referring to the essence vines as his plants. This was my dungeon, and every tunnel and every chamber belonged to me.

  Then again, Tomlin was the one who spent hour upon hour, day after day carefully tending those plants. He put the hard work in, not me. And though they replenished my essence and were important to me, to Tomlin those plants were something else entirely. They were his duty, his life’s work.

  How could I ask my dungeon mates to sweat for my dungeon, to lose limbs and even their lives for it, yet still insist that everything within it was mine, and mine alone?

  So, I didn’t let my ego or my pedantry influence what I said. It still left me with a problem.

  “That’s a good point, Tomlin. We need better security for the cultivation room so that nobody but you or I can access it. We also need a system of protecting the plants from attack. Hmm. I’ll take care of the security today, by placing a door only we can open. As for everything else, leave it with me.”

  “Thank you, Dark Lord.”

  “Tomlin?”

  “Yes?”

  “Good work with your plants. You are doing a great job.”

  Tomlin grinned. “Thank you, Dark Lord. And let Tomlin know about Shadow.”

  “I will.”

  Tomlin left. As Gary followed, he patted me with a leechy leg. “And thank you for your work too, Beno, dear chap. It is not lost on us all how hard you work for us.”

  She was restrained with ropes around her wrists, ankles, waist, and neck, which were secured around metal hooks fixed deep into the wall. I didn’t like seeing her this way, but there wasn’t much else I could do.

  We’d had our problems, Shadow and me. Our disagreements, fallings out, even full-blown arguments in front of everyone else. But I never, ever thought we’d have to treat her this way.

  To think, I was so sure that we’d turned a corner. That by sending her to assassinate the mayor of Hogsfeate, I had given her the trust she craved, and she’d repaid it plenty. And then the little witch came along and ruined it.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Where’s Anna?” said Shadow. “Anna, a pure soul. A kind master with really nice hair and a lovely singing voice.”

  “Yes, Wylie and the others told me you say that a lot. She’s really burrowed into your mind, hasn’t she?”

  “Burrowed? Enough rubbish, core. Where’s Anna?”

  “Shadow, let me ask you something.”

  She spat at me. “Where is Anna?”

  “Answer a question, and I will take you to her.”

  “Ask, then.”

  “Who are your friends in the dungeon, Shadow?”

  “Anna.”

/>   “She’s not from…well I suppose she is in the dungeon right now. So technically, you’re right. Is there anyone else who you remember having a friendship with?”

  “Utta. But not as much as Anna. A pure soul. A kind master with really nice hair and a lovely-”

  “Singing voice. Yes. We haven’t heard her sing yet, Shadow. She might start singing when I send good old Kainhelm into her cell.”

  Shadow began struggling against her ropes. “No! You foul lump of rock! You wouldn’t!”

  “Alright, calm down. I’m only trying to gauge what parts of the old Shadow are still there. Mainly the bad parts, as far as I can see. Do you remember what you did to Redjack?”

  “The kobold? I stabbed him.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “What are you, a mind healer? Take me to Anna, you disgusting rock.”

  “Well, I’ve been called worse. How do you feel about Tomlin?”

  “Just another kobold.”

  “No attachments to him, then?” I said.

  “My only attachment is to-”

  “The great and wonderful Anna, yes. I suppose there’s no getting around this brain blockage of yours, is there?”

  Shadow said nothing.

  I began floating out of the room, but then stopped. “Ah. Perhaps there’s one thing. Wylie?”

  The door opened and four dogs came tearing in. When they saw Shadow their tails started wagging side to side like buoys in a sea storm. They crowded her, some leaping up to lick her face, others licking her feet and legs.

  “Get them away from me!” she shouted.

  One dog backed away. The others looked at her, heads tilted, tails halfway up.

  “Get them away!”

  I sighed. “Damn it, I was sure that would work. You love your hounds more than anything. Oh, well. No sense subjecting the poor things to your new state of mind. Wylie, take them away. If you could ask Brecht and Rusty to play fetch with them for a while, I would appreciate it. Poor hounds have been starved for attention lately.”

  Wylie herded the hounds out of the chamber, leaving Shadow and me alone. I stared at her, remembering what I had been forced to do with the other monsters Anna had beguiled, and wondering if there was any way back for this loyal dungeon servant.