Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Alex Oakchest (list of ebook readers .TXT) 📖
- Author: Alex Oakchest
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The floor was now lined with straw, making it look a little like a barn. Only, the straw was there to soak up blood, sweat, and all the other fluids that tend to leak from people’s bodies when they pummel each other.
“Beautiful,” I said.
400 essence points used! [Total: 215/615]
Dungeon room created: Arena
An arena is a place for your dungeon creatures to hone their skills without having to face heroes.
While training in an arena, combat creatures will level up. To speed up leveling, appoint a drillmaster or specialist combat instructors.
“An arena, Core Beno?”
The voice came from behind me, where a man was standing beneath a tunnel arch. He was short, with a head so bald it reflected light like the winter moon, and wearing a robe that rustled when he made the slightest movement. His eyes showed cunning, knowledge, and a hint of a secret. A secret about what, I didn’t know, but that was the impression his eyes always gave me.
“Overseer Bolton,” I said. “I hate it when you do that.”
The old instructor plastered a look of innocence on his face. “Do what, my dear core?”
“Academy instructors can creep through dungeons undetected. Even my core vision doesn’t pick you up. It’s supposed to be used to make your surprise evaluations more surprising…not to spy on me.”
Bolton strode into the arena, his robe flapping around him. Quite a feat given there was no wind down here. It must have been a spell. Talk about vanity…
He completed a lap of the facility, running his fingers along the carvings on the walls, shaking his head at the targets and dummies.
“Can you guess the question I keep getting asked lately?” Bolton said.
“Is it ‘Bolton, why haven’t you pissed off back to the academy yet?’”
Overseer Bolton was employed by the Dungeon Core Academy, though he had been posted to the wasteland indefinitely, removing him from his job of evaluating dungeon cores for graduation. This wasn’t a punishment, though it might have felt like it. No, it seemed that the academy had taken a great interest in this project, what with two cores building dungeons underground and transforming the surface above.
Bolton touched his chest in mock hurt. “Are you saying I’m not wanted around here? Beno, your words are crueler than your dungeon.”
“Fine. I’m guessing the question you keep getting asked is by Galatee and Reginal. They want to know when I’ll be able to start building on the surface,” I said.
“Correct.”
“Ever tried teaching a fish how to ride a horse?”
“Beno, dungeon core is a label, nothing more. Think of it as a costume. Take off the dungeon part, and what do you have? A core. A gemstone with the ability to manipulate essence. Whether that essence is used above ground or below, is simply a matter of training.”
“Samson thinks I’m still a little while away.”
“Well, I trust the esteemed instructor, despite him never teaching at our academy. Be patient, Beno. It will come. Your friend has just taken his first great step.”
“Jahn built something on the surface?”
“A stone well. Nothing more than that. But it is progress, being able to manipulate essence while the sun shines on him. What are you smiling about?”
“If Jahn is learning how to do it, Galatee and Reginal won’t need us both soon. One dungeon core is enough; two is overkill.”
“Ah, you think Jahn’s progress may earn you freedom. Beno, Jahn is the rose, and you are the thorn.”
“If I didn’t know you were talking in metaphors, I’d be hurt. You think they’ll divide our duties?”
Bolton completed his lap of the arena, standing near my pedestal with his arms folded and his hands hidden by his robe sleeves.
“It isn’t lost on the people here that Jahn builds his dungeon like a child constructing a tower out of his father’s old oil barrels. Harmless in thought, but one wrong spark, one barrel jostled too much…”
“They’re thinking of having Jahn in charge of the surface, and keeping me down here.”
“Some flowers bloom in the light, others in darkness.”
Damn it. For a second, a light shone in the tunnel of freedom. Bolton had just snuffed it out, but that wasn’t all. Now, I found myself envious of Core Jahn, jealous that he’d adapted to surface building quicker than me. Some flowers bloom in darkness, my arse.
Here I was, jealous over being bested at something I had never wanted to do in the first place.
“An arena is an interesting choice,” said Bolton, but the way he said interesting suggested he had a worse word in mind.
He waited for me to explain my reasoning to him. It was like he thought we were still in the academy, and I had to justify all my dungeon decisions to earn his approval.
“Glad you’re entertained,” I said.
“I’m waiting…”
“For what? The puppet show starts at sundown. Go wait on the surface. Get some sun on your dome.”
Bolton self-consciously rubbed his bald scalp. “Arenas take up valuable underground space,” he said. “Most cores forego them in favor of melding rooms and breeding lairs.”
He was pushing me to justify myself by criticizing my decision…
…and damn it, I couldn’t stop my big old mouth chomping down on the bait.
“This is how I’m going to take this place to the next level,” I said. “For one, I’m not lacking for space down here.”
“True. Most cores must work with barely a quarter of the underground space you enjoy. Limitations focus the mind, Beno. The man with mountains of gold forgets to watch the small coins even as they roll away, and soon finds himself poor. But the man who watches all his coppers…”
“This isn’t me using space for the sake of it. Think about this, Overseer; more powerful
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