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

“Then play your part, and I will commit some of my men to-”

“I know my part, damn it!” bellowed Nazenfyord.

He lashed out with his right fist, smashing into a horse that was pulling a wagon to his right. In one blow he killed the horse and tipped the wagon onto its side. The driver fell off and was crushed underneath.

Duke Smit closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “We discussed your temper, Nazenfyord. You are no good to me if your mere presence results in net losses. Your little outburst just cost me 100 gold for the horse, 400 for the wagon, and 700 I shall have to pay to the man’s family for the fatality on the job. Not to mention that almost two hundred men and thirty beasts witnessed it. The material cost of what that would do to their morale is difficult to calculate, but a rough estimate would be 3000 gold.”

“You will learn to suffer it or take the town on your own.”

“I have enough soldiers to make this place mine, but I’d rather not have to use them. Combat means deaths. It means broken weapons. It means wounds that must be healed. These things cost gold, Nazenfyord, which you would do well to learn that if you are insistent on becoming the ruler of your own land. I will take Yondersun with the minimum of losses because every loss brings down the town’s value as an investment. I’m hoping your presence will be intimidating enough to make them become one of my vassals without loss of gold.”

“If my presence is so important, you ice-brained oaf, then shut up about my temper.”

“See?” said the duke. “You are learning. Bad-tempered words are fine because they cost nothing for you to say, and the material cost of their effect on me is zero.”

“Duke!” shouted a voice. “The sky!”

Above them, the meanest clouds that any of them had ever seen in their lives had gathered in the sky. Clouds so black they looked like little concentrations of the darkest night blotting an otherwise clear day.

“Rain? Out here? The wasteland sees rain barely once every year, and it chooses the day we cross it?”

The clouds rumbled. For a split second, the duke was convinced that one of the gods was roaring at them, screaming something down in a deital language he was too mortal to understand.

Light flashed in the sky.

A great bolt smashed into a cart and set it aflame, instantly cooking the driver, his beasts, and the people inside the wagon.

Another great roar came from the heavens.

Three bolts came down from the sky, this time smashing into the bulk of his foot soldiers and cavalry, flinging soldiers off their horses.

“Turn back!” shouted the duke. “Back to Fort Smiten!”

“Back?” growled Nazenfyord. “You would scurry home?”

“Think about it, bogan, for gods’ sakes. After the battles with the Red Jackal and her band of oafs, I only have a few hundred men in my whole host. I brought them here to intimidate the Yondersun chiefs; I can’t actually afford to use them to fight. Every time that damn lightning flashes I lose gold! Too much to mention! No, we’ll have to do this another day. Back, everyone! Back!”

CHAPTER 7

I left my meeting with Reginal and Galatee and floated out into Yondersun and was immediately flooded with messages in my core.

Razensen has slain 6 heroes!

- Razensen’s Unit:

Kobolds [x4] have leveled up to 10! [Heroes jointly slain:4]

Bone guys [x3] have leveled up to 9! [Heroes jointly slain:4]

Shrub Bandits [x4] have leveled up to 14! [Heroes jointly slain:4]

Leveled up to 19!

- Total essence increased to 2001

- New dungeon chambers available for construction

- New monsters available for creation

- New trap and puzzle options

Ah, what a relief! The heroes were dead, and I had one less thing to worry about. What a strange turn of events, that killing heroes was now a relief and not a pleasure. This was a sure sign that maybe I needed to rethink my priorities in my second life. Even so, it was good to know that he’d dealt with it.

Emerging into the middle of Jahn’s Row, I saw that all the merchants and shoppers and passers-by had stopped and were staring into the distance, some pointing, some whispering to each other, others so awed they could hardly close their mouths let alone form words.

“A storm,” said a gnome. “By the gods, never thought I’d see it.”

“Doesn’t look like it's coming over ‘ere, though.”

“Woah! Did you see that flash? Holy hells!”

As much as things like magic didn’t amaze me – I could use essence to conjure creatures out of nothing, after all – I had to admit that I was impressed with the weathermage’s work. The storm looked meaner than an underworld demon, and the lightning striking down looked just as powerful as one. Was that a sign of gold well spent? Well, if it forced the duke back then it had to be.

I supposed we wouldn’t know for certain until I was able to send my ravens to scout the wasteland, but there was no chance I’d send them out until the storm had cleared.

In the meantime, I needed to check on the situation with the heroes, and I was also waiting for either Gulliver or Morphant to contact me and tell me how it had gone with Overseer Bolton.

The strangest thing was that even though the heroes wanted to kill my dungeon creatures and steal my loot, even though the duke wanted to bully his way into controlling Yondersun, it was the prospect of dealing with Overseer Bolton that made me the most nervous.

He always had, I supposed. When I was resurrected from death and forged as a dungeon core,