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

turns down there. I have a good nose for direction underground…metaphorically of course…but even so, it might take me days to find the nest.”

“It leaves us without a plan,” said Gulliver.

“Fail to plan, plan to fail,” said Eric. “My grandpa told me that. Course, he spent all his life’s worth of barbarian earnings on ale and amulets and had nothing to retire on. So not the best person for advice.”

“We do have a plan,” I said. “Listen to this. The insects obviously know how to get back to their nest. And we can assume that when they kidnap people, they’re taking them there. I’m guessing the nest is where Riston is turning people into wraiths.”

“This again. You lot are fixated! How do you know it’s Riston? Is it the facial hair? Can’t a man take pride in himself without being accused of spellcraft and kidnap?” said Eric.

“I’m bordering on guesswork, but it’s the only thing I have to go on.”

“Ugh. I hate guesses.”

“As do I,” said Cynthia. “A guess is as good as a lie.”

“So the insects take the people to their nest. What can we do about it?” said Eric.

“We set a trap. We know the insects hunt for people traveling in small groups across the wasteland. Then they attack. Let’s use someone as bait. Wait for the insects to attack…and then capture one of them. After that, we make it lead us back to its nest.”

Gulliver peeled away some apple skin and chewed it. “Two problems there,” he said, between chomps. “When the insects attack, you can’t fight back. You’ll just create more of them.”

“I have a plan for that…I hope.”

“Fine. Secondly, who is stupid enough to act as bait?”

“As it happens, I know some very, very stupid people.”

Gulliver eyed me. “I’m not sure whether to get offended or not.”

“I don’t mean you, you stupid git.”

CHAPTER 13

Gulliver was right about the problems. That was why he was so useful to have around. Give him the most perfect plan, and he’d needle and prod until he could tell you what was so idiotic about it.

If we were going to capture an insect, we needed a way to separate one of them from the rest, without trying to attack them and making more of them. I thought I had a way.

It was the middle of the night now, and some of the group needed to sleep. Gulliver was out the second he closed his eyes. Wylie slept like a puppy. He had such an innocent nature that it came easily to him.

Others didn’t find it so effortless. Tomlin, now that his anger about the vines had faded, seemed consumed with fears. I couldn’t blame him; he was away from the dungeon, away from his vines, and we were being hunted. Kobolds are nothing if not creatures of habit. Take them away from what they know, and they start to worry.

Shadow was also reluctant to sleep. I didn’t know if it was because she didn’t want to have another nightmare, or whether it was the idea of having one in front of us all.

Either way, those who could sleep, slept. Those who couldn’t sleep were gathered around Eric, as he told them all some of his best barbarian stories. Most of them involved Eric defeating a beast, getting a sack full of gold, and being given the pick of the village women. Never mind that when I met him, he was a penniless barbarian who spent all his gold on coconut conditioner for his hair.

While the others slept or listened to stories, I talked with Cynthia.

“This will be quick,” I told her. “And then I’ll let you sleep.”

Cynthia sniffed. “Don’t worry. Ash Whiskers and I just took some essence of headroot. We won’t be sleeping for a good while.”

Essence of headroot? I’d heard of that back in the academy. It was mentioned in our Hero Psychology class. The module was Heroic Motivations.

A major heroic motivation for raiding a dungeon was to get loot. Sitting under that motivation were branches of sub-motivations, a big one being addiction. That was where headroot came in.

Headroot was an herb that heroes took to stay awake in dungeon raids that lasted longer than a night. They understandably didn’t want to sleep in the dungeons they were crawling through. The problem was headroot could lead to addiction, which led to them raiding purely to get gold to buy more root. Headroot started as a tool but then became their master.

Essence of headroot explained something I had been wondering about.

Cynthia’s smell. The one I’d picked up on earlier. Too subtle for anyone else to notice, but it was there, and now I knew the reason for it.

“Maybe lay off the root when it comes to Maginhart,” I said. “He doesn’t need it.”

“A young apprentice keeps long hours, Beno. Practical work all day. Theory in the evening. And that’s studying just one discipline. I am teaching tinkering, alchemy, and artificery. There aren’t enough hours in the day for Ash Whiskers to learn what he needs to.”

“I’m not happy with him using the root.”

“What are you, his father?”

Ugh. Father.

The thought that I could be responsible for another life like that. I doubted I had children when I was a human, and I sure as hell wouldn’t have any when I was a core.

“Headroot isn’t safe,” I said.

“You, a core, are telling me, an alchemist, what is and isn’t safe?”

“I don’t need to set myself on fire to tell you that flames are dangerous.”

“I took Ash Whiskers on as an apprentice as a favor to you, Beno. I told you at the time that I would brook no questions. No interference. There’s a reason I have had so few apprentices over the years. It’s because they’re a pain in the