Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Alex Oakchest (list of ebook readers .TXT) 📖
- Author: Alex Oakchest
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“It’s a shame you won’t have the chance to finish that. Gary? Fight, Death, Kill? Everyone, in fact. Finish this!”
“Your pathetic creatures couldn’t finish their dinner.”
“Rip out his guts and flay his skin. Tear out his bones and crush his skull. Wrench his-”
In one archway, Gary stretched two leech legs forward. His eight eyes blinked, and he bared a set of monstrous fangs. “We get it, Beno dear chap,” he said. “Kill the hero. Make him suffer. The usual business.”
My monsters advanced on Cael. Gary stomped forward. Fire beetles scuttled. Kobolds scampered. The air was thick with tension and blood lust.
Cael took out his phoenix feather and drew a hammer-shaped rune on his sword.
“Now,” I said. “Before he uses his stupid wartificer spells.”
“Too late,” came a sneering voice.
Cael’s weapon flashed with an orange light three times. When he struck the boulder, it shattered into a thousand pieces, revealing the passageway behind.
“Remember, Beno,” he said. “You could have let us leave with the loot and you’d never have seen us again. But now I’m going to come back, and it won’t be for loot. I’ll destroy you even if I have to kill every creature in this hovel.”
I laughed. “You think this is over?”
“Well, it appears my way out is no longer blocked. So, genius core, what do you think?”
“I’ve seen you use the boulder smashing trick before, Cael. I know that you need a rest after using each of your runes before you can use them again. Did you think I wouldn’t have considered that? Wylie, pull the lever.”
There was a mechanical crunch, and a second boulder fell from the hatch and made the tunnels shake. It began rolling down the passageway, where it would eventually block the archway and trap Cael again.
“You bloody cores,” he hissed. “You know nothing of honor.”
“Honor?” I said. “Never heard of it.”
“Perhaps I’ll have to teach you…next time.”
He reached into his pocket and drew out of a small, octagonal stone. When he threw this on the floor, a beam of light washed out, flooding the loot room with blinding yellow rays. It formed a twenty-feet-tall portal, which Cael leaped through.
“Gary,” I said, “Get after…”
“Dark Lord?”
“Forget it. It’s too late.”
The portal had closed behind Cael, leaving no trace of the hero.
CHAPTER 3
“Remove the guts and bones and everything else,” I said. “But keep the bloodstains. They add to the aesthetic of our dungeon.”
Three kobolds blinked at me from a tunnel covered in smashed stones and flattened heroes. Wylie, Tarius, and Maginhart were technically my mining team, but I had no mining work scheduled for them today, so I had roped them into after-battle cleanup.
“Why not keep bodies there, Dark Lord?” asked Wylie. He was shorter than the kobolds he supervised, but he made up for it with a disciplinarian streak that had surprised everyone. Wylie loved work and hated slackers. This made him a great supervisor for the other kobolds, a species who famously love to shirk from work.
“Leave the bodies to rot, you mean?” I said.
“Rot smell is bad. Will make heroes scared if dungeon smells of death.”
“It would, that’s true. But with rot comes disease, and you lot may not be completely invulnerable to pathogens that come from dead heroes. I can’t have my dungeon creatures getting sick.”
“Dried blood not make us sick too?” asked Wylie.
“Good point,” agreed Tarius, one of my cleverer kobolds. He wore a white shirt upon which he had written the words ‘Hed of Dungeon Yunion’ in what looked like blood. “If rotting hero corpses could make us sick, why can’t blood? That comes from heroes too.”
“We’ll scorch the bloodstains with mana fire. That will get rid of the potential of disease while leaving the stains there for future heroes to see. Satisfied? Are you oxygen thieves done questioning my orders, or do I need to scorch you with mana fire to rid myself of the disease of your stupidity?”
“Dark Lord!” said Wylie. “Remember what we talk about?”
“What?” I said.
“Dungeon is no place for…”
“Ah. Yes. A dungeon is no place to lose your temper. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I’m under quite a lot of stress. Within ten seconds, I went from having Cael trapped and almost killing him, to having him flee my dungeon with a vow to return and destroy me at an unspecified later date. This turned from a regular hero-versus-core fight, to a personal vendetta.”
“Is Dark Lord in danger?” asked Wylie.
“Perhaps. The next time Cael returns, he won’t be seeking loot. He’ll want to battle his way to my core room and destroy me.”
“Then what we do?”
“I’ll be in my core room pondering that very question. Just remember what I said. Get rid of the corpses, but keep the bloodstains.”
Since I was made of gemstone and didn’t have legs, I used one of my magic pedestals to transport myself from my loot room and to my core room.
When I materialized there, I was finally alone. A mana stream bubbled in the corner of the room, while lamps cast purple and orange glows all around, lending a cozy feel to my chamber. One wall was dominated by an oak bookcase that I had bought from a merchant in Yondersun. As of now, I only had five books on it, but I planned to fix that. I had settled on a treat system for myself, where killing a hero meant I could spend gold on a new book. After killing Cael’s brothers, I could buy myself a couple of new novels. Lovely.
Settled in my core room, I checked the
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