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

grant him permission to take more than one wife, despite both his current and potential wife being against such an agreement. When I had bargained for a seat in the Yondersun chief meetings, I hadn’t expected this level of tedium. At least the weathermage was somewhat interesting.

Chief Reginal, Chief Galatee, and I gave time to each petitioner in a meeting room in one of the lodges in Yondersun. Until recently the room had been windowless thanks to the chiefs’ obsession with eavesdroppers, but things were much more stable in the town now, and they had installed a window and had allowed townsfolk to come here to make requests.

With its new window, the room looked out onto the Clasped Hands, a stone statue memorial commissioned to mark the end of the Wrotun and Eternal clans’ war and the founding of Yondersun town. Nearby, a construction core named Jahn was directing his workforce in his latest – and most anticipated among the townsfolk – project: a tavern with four separate levels.

The streets outside thrummed with activity, and there seemed to be more and more merchants, travelers, and craftsmen passing through the town gates every day. The main strip of shops – named Jahn’s Row – had become so packed that a second thoroughfare called Galatee Avenue had been created. It was surely only a matter of time before Beno Crescent was constructed.

“Well?” said the weathermage. “I am open to your inquiries.”

“No, not a chance, not interested,” said Chief Reginal, and then crossed his arms.

“I have a few questions,” said Chief Galatee, tapping a piece of paper covered in her handwriting.

Reginal leaned close. “Galatee, my love, we discussed overruling me in public.”

“Yes, darling,” she whispered back, “But I cannot just let you have your own way. Married or not, we are both chiefs.”

“You are my wife, woman!” Reginal hissed. “You will do-”

Galatee fixed him a stare that would have cracked a diamond. Reginal furrowed his brow and swept his hand dismissively. “Ask your bloody questions.”

“Now, mage,” said Galatee. “If I understood you correctly, you are offering to alter the weather for us.”

The mage, who wore robes covered in colored suns, clouds, and lightning bolts, clasped his hands together. “I cannot alter it permanently, you understand. I am offering to manipulate it on a use-by-use basis.”

“And it is 6000 gold each time? If we want you to summon a rain cloud, that would be 6000?”

“Correct.”

“Rather pricey.”

“Madam chief…”

“Just chief, thank you.”

“Chief, you must be all too aware of the difficulties of growing crops in the wasteland. Staring at the sky, praying for rain that might be years in coming. Seeing crops fail because the sky is being selfish.”

“We buy a special alchemical fertilizer. We don’t need rain.”

The weathermage didn’t miss a beat. “Ah, but need and want are two different things, no? I don’t need to buy a new set of robes every time I pass a mage tailor shop…yet I want to. You say you don’t need rain. Fine. But do you want it? Forgive my presumption, but I say yes! A few spots of rain could boost your harvests four, perhaps five times. A worthy investment.”

“And how is this done?” I asked. “Even magic needs fuel.”

“I should have known the core would have such insight! What a delightfully intelligent being you are. To use my spells, I simply make a humble prayer to the gods of the sky and ask that they bestow their blessings upon us.”

“Absolute crap. You’re a mage. You deal with certainties, not prayers. What’s your method?”

The weathermage clicked his fingers, and three boxes appeared on the table. He tapped one. “I left this box in the Vainvine rainforest for a month. It absorbed a storm that would drench this entire wasteland and turn it into a bog.”

He tapped another box. “This one I left in the flashing valleys, where it absorbed lightning strikes that would make the god of thunder tremble.”

He tapped the final box. “And this is-”

“We get your point,” said Reginal. “But after my wife…my co-chief’s…all-so-pertinent questions, mage, I think the answer is still the same. We cannot afford to spend so much gold on playing with the bloody weather.”

The mage looked at Galatee, who nodded. “I am afraid that I agree.”

“Afraid? Is agreeing with me such a bad thing that it should scare you?” asked Reginal.

“Now now, chiefs,” I said. “We spoke about you bringing your bickering into the meeting room.”

“Ah, core. Ever the voice of reason,” declared the mage. “What say you?”

I saw no reason to lie. “Something smells wrong here. You tell me that you source your spells by having these boxes absorb the weather. I presume you have to use mana, as well, but it’s beside the point. There’s another cost that you aren’t telling us. There’s something wrong with this. I am with the chiefs on the matter.”

The weathermage stared at his final box for a few moments. His eyes narrowed and the creases around them looked more pronounced, like cracks in the wasteland soil.

He smiled. “Very well. I wish you good fortune and clear skies. I pray that no elemental accidents befall you.”

After the mage collected his boxes and left, Reginal sighed. “Is that the last presentation for today? Good. I’m sick to my arse of hearing people waffle. Now, let’s discuss the rest of our business and leave this stuffy tomb of a room.”

“Okay, Beno,” said Galatee, consulting her list. “The first thing to discuss is…”

On and on the meeting went, until the chiefs finally broached a topic that didn’t make me want to doze off.

“This is a good thing, Beno! A visit from a duke? Can’t you see the benefits? Why are you so persistently negative?” said Galatee.

“Realistic is a better name for it,” I said.

“I understand that, being a dungeon core, you are predisposed