Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Alex Oakchest (list of ebook readers .TXT) 📖

years stretch out to infinity, and I have walked these halls for so long that escape, through death or otherwise, has been my dream. Here, within these walls, I was oathed so that I couldn’t harm myself. I was left here. Alone, doomed to walk these halls for eternity. Your mirrors are not a trap for me, Core. They are my escape. For they are a trap not of my own devising, and to look at them isn’t to harm myself; it will be you who has killed me.”

The narkleer reached for the sack on his head.

Thoughts rushed through my mind then. Questions, theories.

The only one I could latch on to was that I had to stop this.

“Wait,” I said.

He paused.

“You said you’ve walked these halls alone for a long time. That you’re doomed to walk them for eternity. That means you haven’t got the slightest idea what another life would be like. Wouldn’t you like to try? What if I could offer you a way to leave these halls?”

“Impossible.”

“You said you were oathed to patrol here. I presume that is a mana oath?”

“Correct.”

“Those can sometimes be broken. And as the subject of the oath, it is the law that you must have been told its terms. But…those terms also bind the maker of the oath, too.”

The narkleer scratched its bony chin. “It has been so long that I cannot remember. Let’s see…terms, hmm…oh, curse your lineage! I cannot remember.”

“Every mana oath must have terms of relinquishment. A way for both parties to end it. Yours will have something to do with this place.”

“Ah. Yes, I see…I see…I remember now. If my master was to die or leave the dungeon, my oath would be broken.”

Now we were getting somewhere. I, unfortunately, knew much more about mana oaths than I had ever wanted to, thanks to my current predicament where a mana oath forced me into servitude. The relinquishment term of my own oath was a simple and common one; my owner had to null the contract. In other words, Galatee had to call it quits.

But for the narkleer, it was slightly different. His master had to die. That meant two things.

One, his master was still alive.

Two…

“I’ll kill your master,” I said.

“You would?”

“On one condition; I become your new master in his place.”

“One deal for another, is it? I see…I see…Why would I swap one master for another?”

“Because your current master has you pacing the same dungeon tunnels over and over again. Whereas I am constantly expanding my dungeon. I even allow my clanmates to go on the surface, and I try to match a creature to its skillset rather than falling back on stereotypes. In short, I offer excellent working conditions, training on the job, with great promotion prospects. And not only that; serve me for just a decade, and I will release you.”

The narkleer was silent for a while.

“My name is Kainhelm, core. Yours?”

“Beno.”

“A pleasure, Core Beno. A blessing on your lineage. Kill my master, then, and I will accept you in his place.”

“Lovely. Who is your master?”

“My mana oath forbids me to tell you.”

“Where is he?”

“My oath forbids…”

“Curse your lineage, narkleer.”

He stared at me now, with his hollow eye sockets that held a weight of shadows behind them. Though he had no face with which to convey an expression, I felt his emotion; anger.

“Not nice, is it?” I said. “Cursing people’s lineage all the time? Curses have power, as well you know, Kainhelm. After all, one does not become a narkleer through a life of good deeds, do they? Alright, I’ll have to explore your dungeon. I’m sure your master will be around here somewhere. I’ll kill him, and that’ll be that. Job done.”

“I will be duty bound to attack anything that steps in these halls. You will need to be careful, core.”

“I know. We’ll wait until you’re off on your patrols. I’ll go now. Jelly, float over to the mirrors and knock them over. I’ll see you soon, Kainhelm.”

CHAPTER 8

All I needed to do was kill the narkleer’s master, get the beast on my side, and then find a suitable place in my dungeon for it. It sounded simple when I thought about it like that.

Oh, and I also had to think of a way to break my mana-sealed oath of ownership with Galatee, but do it in such a way that I didn’t provoke a war and set both the clans against me.

Not that I feared them attacking me. If it came to it, if I was freed from my oath not to hurt them and if they sent their best people into my dungeon, I’d leave a pile of bodies so high they’d have to use their dead loved ones as ladders just to scurry back to the surface.

But I didn’t want to do that, as much as the idea appealed to me.

See, that was the thing. Although I didn’t like being a tool for these people, I also didn’t want to leave my dungeon. I had planned every inch of it, and my clanmates had made tunnels and carved out rooms to my specifications. I had created every trap, spawned every monster. And not only that; the wilderness was so vast, that I had miles and miles of territory to expand into. For a core, this was an excellent location.

The drawback was that the nearest towns were miles away, which meant few heroes would come here by chance. That didn’t matter. As my dungeon grew in prestige and difficulty rating, sword-swingers would seek it out.

That reminds me of that old saying; ‘If a dungeon opens in a forest and a hero doesn’t come scurrying along, was it ever a dungeon at all?’

I didn’t want to leave this place, nor