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

be able to talk to Gulliver whenever I wanted to, without him needing to have my core shavings with him.

Not only that but with my strengthened core vision, I could watch Morphant’s meetings when people wanted to talk to Sir Dullbright.

It occurred to me that it might be nice to have a chat with Gulliver, after everything that had happened recently. He always knew how to cheer me up after a battle didn’t completely go my way.

But no. I still had too much to do. It was true what they said at the academy – a dungeon core’s work was never done.

My miner kobolds were dripping with sweat. It coated their wolfish snouts and it trickled down the lizard scales that showed in rare patches where their fur didn’t grow. Tarius was slumped on the ground and rubbing his temples while Wylie, Jopvitz, and Klok were gathering their breath.

“I’m sorry to ask you to work so hard so soon after…what happened to Redjack,” I said.

“Some time might have been nice, Dark Lord,” said Tarius.

I noticed that Tarius wasn’t as stern in his request as usual. He wasn’t even wearing his Hed of Dungeon Yunion shirt. I supposed that the death of a fellow miner cut closer to the bone for him since he had lost his best friend, Karson, a while ago.

“You deserve a break, Tarius. All of you need a rest, and you need time for your thoughts. Unfortunately, we had to excavate tunnels and prison chambers for the girl and the boy. They are too dangerous to keep around in the main chambers, and Cynthia only had the ingredients for a small amount of sedative to stop them using their powers. We couldn’t afford to wait.”

“Prison chambers finished now,” said Wylie.

“Wylie helped,” said Tarius. “He put down his whip and took Redjack’s share of the work.”

“Thank you, Wylye. I know you are all a strong team and that you look out for each other. We will have a remembrance for Redjack and the others who fell today, and I believe Razensen is allowing anyone who desires so to join his meditation this evening. Take the rest of the day and all of tomorrow off.”

“Will do, Dark Lord,” said Wylie.

They all filed away and left via the tunnel and headed to the main chambers. Only Klok stayed behind.

“Need something, Klok?”

The little kobold scratched his ear. “Dark…uh…Prince of…Malignant,” he began.

“You mixed up two of my names there, Klok, and you’ve butchered another. Just Dark Lord will do.”

“Dark Lord,” he said, scratching his ear so much that it bled.

“I understand you will be upset about Redjack, Klok. I’d like to say this won’t happen again, but this a dungeon, and such things aren’t as rare as we’d hope. Even being a miner here is dangerous. I suggest you spend the next few days with Wylie. He is good to be around after things like this.”

“It isn’t that, Prince Magnificent.”

“Again…”

“When Redjack was killed…I was asleep.”

“What? You were on mining duty that day, weren’t you?”

“Yes…but mining tires me more than the others. I am not as good at it, I cannot mine for as long. Redjack said that I could rest while he worked, and he would not say anything. I was asleep when…”

I remembered seeing Klok lying on the ground near Redjack.

“When Shadow killed him,” I said.

Klok stared at the ground so intently I thought his neck would snap and his head would roll off it.

So, the little kobold had slept through his friend’s murder. Demons below, what was I supposed to do with him?

Any dungeon core who had even the slightest respect for discipline would have melted him in the alchemy chamber for something like this. If Klok had been awake, I doubted Shadow could sneak up on the two of them.

But what was I to do? Redjack was already gone. Killing Klok to reinforce dungeon discipline would mean I lost another kobold. And yes, I could always create a new one, but what sort of message would it send to everyone else? What kind of master would I be?

“Perhaps we’ll have to find something else for you, Klok.”

“You are sending me away?”

“No. I mean another role within the dungeon.”

“You are not going to hurt me?”

“No, Klok. You are not the one who held the knife. You are not responsible for another’s actions. Leave me now. Spend time with the others or spend it alone, it’s up to you. Though, I would suggest you try and find comfort in your dungeon mates. When I have time, I will think of another role for you.”

“Thank you, Dark Prince.”

I sighed. “Go on, Klok. Get lost.”

Eric, Gary, Tomlin, and I were in the meeting chamber. Tomlin was sitting on a chair, while Gary, whose swollen spider abdomen and leech legs made sitting on a normal chair difficult, settled against a wall.

Eric the barbarian stayed standing by the tunnel archway. His right leg was wrapped in a spider web cast, under which was a mixture of expensive ointments provided by Cynthia. With any luck, the barbarian would regain full use of his leg once the alchemic mixture began to work. If Mistress Luck wasn’t feeling generous, he would have a limp even when the webbing was removed. Either way, the barbarian was lucky that an alchemist as talented as Cynthia lived nearby.

“We have a lot to discuss, Eric. You may as well sit,” I said.

He shook his head, swishing his fabulous hair side to side as he did so.

“No, Beno. I’ve got nowt to discuss. I’m leaving.”

I sighed. “I know that your leg means you cannot fight, but you still have plenty of uses for us.”

“You patronizing sod! This ain’t about what I can and can’t do, lad. I’ve been a barbarian all my