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

She followed the tunnel until finally, it took her to a place she recognized well – the loot chamber. The largest, widest chamber in the whole dungeon. Usually the scene of activity. Situated in the middle of the dungeon, it acted as a crossroads for all her dungeon mates as they went about their daily tasks. No matter the time of day it would be alive with chatter, with the sounds of Wylie rebuking his miners, with the Dark Lord making a withering threat toward someone, with Gary and his band practicing their songs.

When heroes came it would be alive with a different noise. The delightful sounds of heroes dying, of Beno cackling as he claimed victory, and sometimes even the sound of heroes rummaging through the loot chest, having defeated Beno and claimed his treasure as their own.

Today, it was dark. Silent. Empty.

The dungeon as she knew it was gone.

She stepped into the loot chamber, already deciding that she had better go to the town above and see if…

“Surprise!” shouted dozens of voices.

Mana lamps sparked to life along the walls, lighting up one by one like eyelids opening to reveal bright eyes.

Four beasts came tearing toward her, their eyes black and furious, their tongues hanging over giant teeth. They leaped at her, and Shadow fell under their weight.

Within an instant they were upon her, covering her in drool. Shadow felt her heart swell.

Her hounds. Her faithful hounds! Why did she feel like she had been away from them for so long?

Somewhere beyond the sea of fur, a lute string twanged, and rhythmic beats were being pounded out on a tambourine.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Gary. “Brecht, Fight, Death, Kill, and I have composed a new ditty for the occasion of Miss Shadow’s return to us. We call it…”

“Fight!”

“Death!”

“Kill!” said the beetles.

“Alas, most of our compositions are named alike.”

The music played, and Shadow found herself being helped to her feet by Wylie.

“Feeling okay, Shadow? Wylie missed you!”

Her dungeon mates crowded her, each of them asking for a hug one after the other. Before now, Shadow would have rather kissed a cow’s arse, but she found herself smiling at each squeeze. Last was Tomlin, who approached her warily.

She could see he was unsure how to act. She held back the sarcastic words on her tongue and spared him the indecision. “It’s good to see you, Tomlin,” she said.

“Tomlin is happy to see you too.”

“Why do I feel like it has been ages?”

And then, Shadow saw Core Beno floating toward her. “Because you’ve been through a lot, Shadow. Enjoy yourself for a while, and then I’ll explain.”

“Hello, Dork Lord. It’s good to see you.”

Core Beno laughed. “You too. Come and have a chat with me.”

Shadow and I talked for an hour, and she had only just left me when I heard a voice in my core.

“Dark Lord?” it said, the words spoken from all the way across the wasteland.

It was Morphant, finally answering me hours after I had announced through my core shavings and that we needed a meeting. It was not unusual for there to be a delay. After all, Morphant was pretending to be Sir Dullbright, and that meant there were duties he needed to complete to carry on the charade.

Recently, though, I had earned the Core Vision Intensification ability, which meant that I could use my core vision to see any location occupied by a monster of my own creation.

This meant that I had requested a meeting with Morphant, and then watched as he, in Sir Dullbright’s form, ignored me and reclined on Dullbright’s bed and stuffed his face with cheese and olives. Then he had read a few chapters from a book, enjoyed a glass of wine, and had a little nap.

Now, while Shadow’s party raged on in the loot chamber, he had finally decided to answer me.

“Dark Lord,” he said. “I am sorry. Your meeting summons came when I was in Dullbright’s form, in an important meeting with the head of the…iron…merchants guild. At your request, I am taxing all the merchants more and keeping the surplus safe in the town coffers.”

“That must have been a very long meeting, Morphant,” I said.

“These things can last hours.”

“Yes. I’m sure. How did your meeting go? I’m a devil for details. Tell me everything, word by word.”

“I…feel tired, Dark Lord. From my duties.”

“Right. Of course.”

This was concerning. The idea that one of my creatures could lie to me wasn’t a new one; though I was their master, my dungeon monsters retained some free will and were annoyingly able to have thoughts of their own. When I issued a command in a certain way, however, their natural bond to me made then unable to refuse it.

Morphant’s lies might merely have been just an aspect of his personality. Or, they might indicate a deeper set rebellion that could cause problems for me, especially with him being so far away. With Eric gone, I’d need to send someone else to keep a closer eye on him.

“You said that Gulliver has gone missing.”

“He has left, Dark Lord. I requested that he come to Dullbright’s house to help me with some things. Hours later, he had not even responded. The next day, I sent a guard to his home, where we found his apartment empty.”

“Did he leave a note?”

“No, Dark Lord. He has taken all of his things and left town. A rug merchant reported seeing Gulliver paying for passage on a trader wagon headed somewhere in the south.”

“And he didn’t say why, or give any kind of indication that he might be leaving?”

“Nothing,” said Morphant.

“It’s completely unlike Gull to just run away like that.”

“If I might say,” said Morphant, “The scribe