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

the dungeon enforcer, which made him responsible for making sure everyone was working when they should be, Wylie had learned a proficiency with his whip. That meant he might be useful in a fight.

But more intriguing to me was the different rates of Redjack’s, Jopvitz’s, and Klok’s mining progress.

“Redjack,” I said.

Redjack, whose wolfish snout was shocked with ginger whiskers and whose eyes glowed crimson, saluted me. “Yes, Lord Dark?”

“Dark Lord. Redjack, you joined the dungeon at the same time as Klok and Jopvitz, yes?”

“Correct.”

Interesting. They had joined the dungeon at the same time, and they always worked together in mining duties, yet Redjack was a full 9 mining levels above Klok. That suggested a natural talent for the work, and I was always excited to discover flair in my people.

Wylie had always been my best miner, which was why he’d progressed from a miner, to a supervisor, and then to dungeon enforcer. But the suddenness of Redjack’s rise in skill dwarfed even him. Handled correctly, Redjack could be invaluable in our mining efforts.

“Redjack, you will be the mining supervisor when Wylie is off enforcing discipline elsewhere in the dungeon. Consider it a supervisor apprenticeship. Wylie, I’d like you to take Redjack under your fur and show him how to kick a few arses.”

Redjack’s snout twitched, his red eyes gleamed, and he saluted me. “Yes, Dark Lord!”

Redjack has been promoted to [Miner supervisor-in-training]!

Tarius’s face twisted a little, clearly unhappy.

“Something wrong, Tarius?” I asked.

“I have been in the dungeon longer than Redjack, Dark Lord. I have worked dutifully and without question.”

“Without question?” I said. If I had eyebrows, I would have been arching them while nodding at his Hed of Dungeon Yunion shirt.

“Without many questions.”

“Tarius, I made you the head of the dungeon union. It is a prestigious post that you campaigned for tirelessly. Do you really want to give it up to become a supervisor?”

“I suppose not.”

“Good. Go on, scamps,” I said. “Off with you. Leave me alone with our friend.”

The kobolds left the chamber, and I took a moment to enjoy the sound of their jokes and chatter as they headed down the tunnel. When their banter was replaced by silence, I turned my attention to the center of the room.

There, resting on a stone pedestal, was a dungeon core. Red and shaped like a tooth, but with half of her core body broken away and missing. This destruction was a reminder of what could happen if a core’s mind was corrupted. She had gone insane in Hogsfeate, wreaked havoc upon the town, and had only been stopped by Sir Dullbright and his core-killing sword.

Dungeon core insanity was a rare phenomenon, mostly because dungeon cores were forged and trained to kill people, and thus in doing so could not be described as insane under the regular definition of the word. I had all the normal, healthy hero-slaying urges that most cores had, but I didn’t feel the need to kill the inhabitants of Yondersun.

No, perhaps that was the difference here. A dungeon core should only kill heroes, and the Dungeon Core Academy defines a hero as ‘One who is not a core or monster and finds their way into the core’s dungeon by their own means, for their own motives.’ Namantep clearly had heard of a different definition when she decided to murder a bunch of merchants, drinkers, and peasants in Hogsfeate.

Then again, how different was I, really? Dullbright had never entered my dungeon but I had, via Shadow, killed him. I supposed that the man had tried to murder me first, so perhaps that made it okay.

 Oh, this was all too complicated. Better to focus on more practical matters.

“Ah, Namantep,” I said. “If only you weren’t completely dormant. I would love to know why Overseer Bolton is so interested in you.”

“Perhaps you should ask him.”

“Ha, perhaps I should. I’m sure he would give me a straight answer.”

I felt peculiar then. As if someone was staring at me.

“Wait. Did you just speak to me?”

Silence.

I was losing my bloody mind!

With Namantep secured in a chamber that would hopefully stay hidden from Bolton, should he decide to visit, it was time to…

“Benooooooo,” said a ghostly voice. “Benoooooo...I am the spirit of fallen heroes, and I am here to avenge…”

The voice descended into a laugh. A laugh that, despite all contrary possibilities, came from the dead core resting on the pedestal in front of me.

Namantep clearly wasn’t as dead as she had led everyone to believe. The thing was, I didn’t want to betray my surprise and start asking questions. Showing surprise would imply she had caught me off guard, and that, in turn, implied weakness. I wouldn’t begin our first meeting in a position of weakness.

What had happened here? If Dullbright had stopped Namantep’s rampage by killing her with his sword, then how was she still alive? There weren’t many possibilities.

“Put yourself into a core slumber, did you?” I said. “That’s the only way to survive a blow by a scaleedge sword. I suppose if you did it just before the mayor struck you, then…”

“Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.”

“I don’t have the patience for games.”

“Lie dormant for as long as I have, young core, and you would learn a thing or two about patience. Try spending decades living on a cushion in a damn mage’s tower, getting cooed over by an old man who wears nothing under his robes, and getting prodded and poked by a goblin with ridiculous studs in his ears. Suffer a few years of that, young core, and you will learn about patience.”

“First of all, enough with the young core,” I said.

“Why not? I would judge you to be barely out of the academy.”

“It’s patronizing,” I said. “I won’t be patronized in my own dungeon.”

“Fair enough. Fair enough. I don’t enjoy being