Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Alex Oakchest (list of ebook readers .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Alex Oakchest
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“More than a day for 375 points to regenerate.”
“Accurate,” I said, surprised.
“I stopped by to talk to my friend Tomlin in the cultivation room,” said Bolton.
That, at least, made me smile. Overseer Bolton had become friends with Tomlin ever since meeting him while evaluating my first dungeon. It was rare, for an overseer to befriend a kobold, but Tomlin had won him over somehow.
“I need to tell him to keep my dungeon matters to himself,” I said.
“I am an overseer of the academy, Beno.”
“And the academy sold me.”
Bolton shuffled his feet, making his robe rustle. Strange; was this the first time I had made him feel uneasy?
“Beno, you were always both my most promising student, and my greatest disappointment.”
“Did I ever tell you you’re like a father to me?” I said, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. Though secretly, his praise about my promise prodded at my vanity.
“The thought of you as my son makes me shudder with dread. Whether you showed promise or not it doesn’t matter now; no point beating the chef after he’s already overcooked your pie,” he said, after clearing his throat. “Let’s see if I have this right; after creating a monster like a hivemind shroom, it would take you more than a day to regenerate the spent essence. What about it? Cores don’t have to watch death’s hourglass.”
“Sure, I can’t die of old age. But come on, Bolton. Spawning one powerful creature per day? That’s no way to build an army.”
“A clever dungeon core doesn’t need an army. When the work is delicate, a hammer isn’t the best tool for the job, and can do more harm than good.”
“How many more of these sayings are you going to pull from your arse? Besides, a hammer? How insensitive of you, Bolton. I don’t have hands.”
“Yes…it is easy to forget. My apologies.”
“Ah, forget it. I’m only pulling your beard.”
“I don’t have a beard, nor hair. How insensitive of you, Beno.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Bolton smiled. “I’m only pulling on-”
“This could go on for days,” I said, interrupting. “Look, I know arenas have gone out of fashion, but that’s mainly because cores these days have much less underground space to work with, and they have to prioritize. Out here in the bare arse of nowhere, I don’t have such limitations.
So, I can afford to both have my arena, and spawn a bunch of cheap monsters like fire beetles and angry elemental jelly cubes. They cost less than 100 essence points. Much easier to create them in numbers.”
“With limitations.”
“Limitation is just a word people made up to give themselves an excuse. But you’re right; cheap monsters are poor fighters.”
“No dungeon ever became legendary by getting filled with fire beetles,” said Bolton. “Without sounding like my head has swollen, my own Necrotomitlita never had such lowly critters.”
“Everyone starts somewhere. A core has to increase in power before he can create behemoths and frost giants at the drop of a hat.”
Note to myself: product idea. A hat that spawns behemoths and frost giants when dropped.
Bolton gave the arena one more glance, before settling his stare on me. I saw a hint of a smile on his face, and not a mocking one. “Well, Beno, you seem to have direction, and that’s half the battle. I’ll leave you to it; Chief Reginal wants my help with some sort of thermal pockets hidden under the wasteland.”
The overseer left the arena, and I listened to the rustle of his robes grow quieter as he wound further through my dungeon. I watched him using my core vision, seeing him stop to have a chat with Wylie and the others for a minute, and then he opened a portal to leave my dungeon.
Now, it was time to focus on arena-related business.
In my head, I was rubbing my hands together while I looked at my new arena.
The arena was something of an equalizer. Now that I had it, I could create much cheaper creatures, create them quickly, and then account for their lack of combat ability by whipping them into shape in the arena.
“Gary, Fight, Kill? Join me in the arena,” I said, sending my voice out into the depths of my dungeon.
While I waited for them, I created a few new creatures.
Essence points used: 130 [Total: 85/615]
Creature created: Angry Elemental Jelly Cube [Lvl1]
Creature created: Fire Beetle [Lvl 1]
Creature created: Kobold [Lvl5]
The creatures formed before me with a whoosh of light, and the arena received its first soldiers; a floating blob of goo with a blue hue, a black beetle the size of a pumpkin and sporting shocks of red on its husk, and a kobold.
While the jelly and beetle were only level 1, my previous work with kobolds had earned me a kobold proficiency. Not only did this mean that new kobolds were spawned at a higher level, but there was another benefit to my proficiency.
“Welcome to your new home,” I told them. I focused on the kobold. “Your name is…let’s see…”
As kobolds went, he was much taller and wirier than usual. His fur was rust brown, with some white patches.
“Rusty. That’s your name. And your class is shaman.”
A tornado of light gathered around Rusty, spinning him around in circles, before dispersing. It left Rusty a changed kobold; now, he was adorned with a rather fetching robe, and he held a staff with a skull on top of it in his right hand. On his head was a crown of bones.
Rusty [Kobold] is now a level 5 shaman!
The angry elemental jelly floated over to Rusty, getting so close that it bumped his
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