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

to see a flicker of something. Agreement, disgust, just something that would tell me more about this gnome. Galatee’s eyes were cold, hard, impenetrable.

“I’m joking, of course,” I said.

“Of course,” she agreed. “Chief Reginal’s goblins would cause a riot if anything were to happen to him. It would tear us apart, take us right back to the old days of Wrotuns and Eternals murdering each other, with no clan better off for it.”

I hadn’t meant it as a serious suggestion. With my dungeon in a precarious state, I didn’t need more chaos above me. No, I wanted to see Galatee’s reaction and get the measure of the gnome. Unfortunately, she was wily enough to control not just her words, but her facial expressions.

Her preamble was drawing to a close. I could feel it. Soon, she’d ask that I support her side of the argument, and help to convince Reginal that Yondersun should let the Silkers in.

With both chiefs needing something from me, I wondered if I could turn things around and make something of the situation, starting with Galatee. If I got something out of her, then I could go back to Reginal with more bargaining power.

“Quite a conundrum, then,” I said. “Maybe you could use some support in your argument. I’m told that they have found iron deposits on the far side of Yondersun. Perhaps if some of that found its way to a certain dungeon, your Silker argument might be strengthened.”

She leaned forward on her elbows. “Hmm? What would a dungeon need iron for?”

“Lots of things. Monsters can wear armor and use weapons, too. Many things can be constructed below ground just as well as on the surface.”

“Interesting. This anonymous dungeon does not have a supply of iron of its own?”

“Not one that’s plentiful enough for its needs.”

“Well, Beno, you have given me food for thought, and let me tell you, I was hungry. Now that I have digested it, I have a few queries I have to pick from between my teeth, if you’ll indulge me.”

“Pick away,” I said.

“It would be no good having weapons and armor in your dungeon, if you had no creatures to arm, would it? And as far as I understand it, a dungeon core needs essence to create monsters.”

“Your knowledge is unparalleled. What’s your point?”

“I learned a lot from Overseer Bolton before he headed back to the Dungeon Core Academy. Yes, I learned that essence vines have the unfortunate trait of being both extremely rare, and extremely flammable.”

There it was again. A faint flash of anger in my core.

You devious, self-important…

I recovered myself and made sure to keep my tone as calm as possible. “You shouldn’t believe everything you are told,” I bluffed. “Especially not from an academy overseer. They’re famously untrustworthy.”

She stood up from the table. “Well, it’s neither here nor there, I suppose. If I find my Silker argument receiving some much needed support, then this is all moot, and it doesn’t matter how easily a dungeon core’s essence vines could be wiped out by a few sneaky individuals with quiet footsteps and flaming torches. Take care, Beno. I’ll speak to you in a day or so.”

CHAPTER 5

Gulliver paced around the table, his winkle pickers making squeaking sounds as he completed circuit after circuit.

“They both want your support,” he said, “And they both had threats handy for if you refused. Reginal threatens to overwhelm you by sheer numbers, while Galatee will burn down the very plants that allow you to create things in your dungeon. Not a good position, Beno.”

“Thanks for clearing that up.”

“I’d love to just…grr!” said Gulliver, clenching his fists. “I tell you, in my time as a scribe I’ve served all sorts of fat-arsed, pompous gits. Ones born with silver spoons so far up their backsides that I saw the metal glint every time they flapped their gums. I never thought I’d have to deal with that sort of thing all the way out here. Their games, their manipulations, power plays. Is it inherent in people’s natures, Beno? That as soon as someone gets the tiniest bit of power, their brain shrinks to the size of a pebble?”

“I think it’s a prerequisite of getting power in the first place, the ability to shrink your mind at will. The power to close your eyes and ears to inconvenient truths also helps.”

“You should just move your dungeon, Beno. Get far away from here and go somewhere without lords and dukes and chiefs and the rest of the power-hungry sods.”

“If you ever hear of such a utopia, let me know. There’s barely an inch of real estate, above or below ground, left unclaimed in Xynnar. That’s why the Silkers are so interested in Yondersun. Nobody ever thought a settlement could be made in the wasteland, much less one that shows signs that it could grow larger. If Yondersun keeps expanding, it becomes a vital trading outpost, given that it’s out here in the wasteland.”

“I suppose it means more people could cross the wasteland. They’d use Yondersun as a midpoint.”

“Exactly. Think of the trading routes that would open up. As for me, I would never find as much underground space in other parts of Xynnar as I have here. The sheer amount of unclaimed subterranean space I have is too much of an opportunity to abandon.”

Gulliver completed one circuit around the table. Then another.

It wasn’t really a very big table.

“Then you’ll have to pick a side. Decide either which of them you think is right, or which threat would do you the least damage.”

“Or,” I said, “I find a way to nullify both threats.”

The scribe stopped walking. “How?”

“That’s the question. What time of day is it?”

“After midnight, Beno.”

“It’s considered rude to go knocking on doors after sundown, isn’t it?”

“That’s the general understanding.”