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

“So we’re clear, then” I said. “Tomorrow morning, Shadow, the mimic, and Eric will go to Hogsfeate. Don’t take a wagon; we don’t want any witnesses to your journey. You’ll get there in a few days if you travel fast, and then you should wait until nightfall before doing anything.”

“Looking forward to it,” said Eric.

“You remember what to do, Shadow?” I said.

“I think 'kill the governor' is a rather simple instruction.”

“Not just that. Do you remember what comes after? That’s the key here.”

“I remember.”

CHAPTER 12

“Ah, you must be Core Beno! You and I seem to be enjoying the same amount of popularity in Yondersun, na? At least they only whisper about me, rather than holding up signs and chanting for my removal.”

The Silkers’ merchant guild representative wasn’t what I expected. I suppose I anticipated her to be like most merchants, desperate to show off her wealth by weighing down her fingers with gold sparkling trinkets.

Instead, Bessa Gassar was an unassuming orc of slender but athletic build. She wore a thin sleeveless shirt and shorts, making her look like a member of the team of geologists who Reginal had permitted to conduct research on the Yondersun outskirts in exchange for gold.

 Gulliver could have learned a lesson from her, since she managed to carry herself well enough without having to wear silk shirts and winkle pickers. She had shaven her head bald, and her green skin was burned in places. This meant that although she’d prepared for the wasteland sun, she wasn’t completely used to it yet.

“Nice to meet you, Bessa. I hope you don’t mind me coming unannounced.”

“Who would be here to announce you? This is a room in the Scorched Scorpion, not a Silker guild house, na? Between me and you, it’s just the way I like it. All that pomp and vanity really tugs on my tits.”

“You’re enjoying your time in Yondersun, then?”

“I’d enjoy it a lot more if I knew I was going to get what my masters want.”

“I heard that it is never a matter of if the Silkers get what they want, but when.”

She laughed. “You believe all that fisherman’s gossip? That we drown nobles in gold to get what we want? That we shove our hands up leader’s rumps and play them like puppets? That we big, bad Silkers have infiltrated the very heart of society?”

“I’ve yet to hear a different explanation for your guild’s influence. Nobody gets to the top without climbing over a pile of fools and corpses.”

“You have pierced my disguise, Core Beno. I admit it. I am here in Yondersun to suck the town dry and then eat all the children. Satisfied? Now that the air is clear and we can speak with the utmost honesty, what brings you here?”

It was funny, but lately, I was beginning to see no reason to lie about anything. I had tried playing games of subterfuge and hiding my meanings beneath rhetoric, but it bored me.

“I need you to procure something for me,” I said.

“Interesting. You cores can make things out of essence, can you not?”

“You’re well versed in cores.”

“I did my research before I was sent here.”

“Then yes, we can. But we can’t create absolutely everything.”

“I suppose all powers have their limits,” said Bessa. “What do you need?”

“Something called oscil. As much of it as you can get.”

She scratched her chin and furrowed her brow as if I had just laid the most complex problem in the world on her lap. “I would have to get a message to our guildie who handles the procurement and trading of chemicals and alchemical ingredients. Of course, getting a message out of this boundless expanse of rock can take days. Weeks, even. And then waiting for a response, placing an order…a time-consuming business.”

“I think the Silkers’ communication is a little more advanced than climbing to the roof and farting out smoke signals. You have a way of contacting the rest of your guild. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

“It seems you have done your research too, Core Beno.”

“No, it’s just common sense. Enough games, Bessa. Tell me if you can get me some oscil, and how much it would cost.”

“Yes, we can get it. We can get anything. If you desire the heart scales from a golden dragon it is but a matter of making the right offer.”

“What do you need in return?”

She straightened up. “Now that, Core Beno, is the most interesting question I have been asked in all of my time here.”

A kobold shuffled into the core room. Wearing a stained shirt sporting all kinds of burns and blemishes, he looked like he’d just fled from a house fire. There was a nasty red rash on his right cheek.

“Maginhart,” I said. “Good to see you! Has someone been trying to grate your face?”

“An accident, Dark Lord. Sssuch thingsss happen in alchemy.”

Was I imagining it, or did Maginhart look a little taller, a little brighter in his eyes, perhaps? It seemed that his new assignment was agreeing with him, despite the injuries.

“How’s the study, Mag, pal?” asked Gulliver. “Can you turn copper into gold yet? Because we might need to have a little chat.”

“Sssuch thingsss are a childisssh notion and an insssult to the pursssuit of real alchemy!”

“Alright, calm down. I was only joking.”

“Cynthia told me to take alchemy ssserioously, isss all, Gulliver. Ssshe told me horrible ssstories of thossse who didn’t. I wisssh to keep both my eyesss and all my limbsss intact.”

“She tells me that your tinkering studies are progressing tremendously, but you’re falling behind in alchemy and artificery,” I said.

“Tinkering isss my favorite, Dark Lord, I will not lie. But I try with alchemy and artificery, I ssswear on the dungeon. Sssometimesss the mathematicsss and formulasss make me feel like Cynthia isss sssqueezing