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

it. Deep down, I knew it would have been ridiculous to try without understanding what black essence did.

The essence wasn’t everything, though. There was something about this place.

An empty loot chest.

Battle murals on the walls.

“This is a core’s dungeon,” I said.

Eric paced around. “Really? Just seems like any old tomb to me. I’ve been in tons of them.”

“This is a loot chamber. The place where a core stages his last, epic battle with heroes. I’d know a loot chamber anywhere, trust me.”

“I don’t know…”

“Eric, if this was a giant leather loincloth, then I’d bow down to your barbarian expertise in the matter. But this is a loot chamber. Right, Jahn?”

“Seems that way, Beno.”

“Then drain some essence!” said Gulliver. “What are you waiting for?”

I tried to think about why essence vines might turn black.

One answer was that the core who once owned this dungeon was long gone. Without being tended, the essence vines had died.

Then again, essence vines didn’t turn black. They’d wilt, die, and there’d be no trace of them left. Whereas these vines looked healthy, except with a color I’d never seen in essence.

“Come on, Jahn,” I said. “We must have covered this in the academy. Black essence vines. What does it mean?”

“It means they are not for you, young core.”

The voice came from above us. A deep, booming voice.

But one that I recognized. It seemed the others had, too.

“Riston?” said Gulliver.

A great buzzing sound filled the chamber. From way above us, insects flew out from behind craggy rocks. They emerged from holes in the stone. There were must have been fifty of the man-sized creatures, all hovering forty feet overhead.

“I don’t suppose we bought a return portal?” said Gulliver.

Eric grabbed his axe. Warrane, once again adorned in his combat leathers, drew his sword. Two hounds stood by Shadow’s side, their tails straight, teeth bared. The other two stayed with Death and Kill, to protect them.

Tomlin looked around, eyes widening. As the buzzing grew louder, he covered his ears. Wylie put his arm around him. Jopvitz joined Tomlin on his other side. It didn’t seem to make Tomlin feel much better, but I was glad to see them protecting each other.

The insects started to move now, but they didn’t fly at us. Instead, they flew into different positions, using their bodies to form the shape of a giant face in the air.

“You shouldn’t have come, Core,” the giant insect face said.

It was Riston’s voice, no doubt about it. The most disconcerting thing was the mouth formed by the insects. They even hovered slightly when he spoke, giving the impression that the giant lips were moving.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a big mouth?” I said.

“You had your chance to escape. You should have left the wasteland and never come back.”

“Before we got a chance to know each other?”

I couldn’t hide the bitterness from my voice.

I was doing everything I could to keep calm. But when I heard Riston’s voice, all I thought about was my dungeon. My essence vines. And poor Fight.

I needed to get my head straight. Anger didn’t belong to a core. Cores had to think logically, and logic was incompatible with anger.

“I am glad you are here,” said Riston, his voice booming. “The ancient one is glad too. You have brought us fresh bodies to become wraiths, I see. And you, Beno, will become-”

“Ancient one? Who the bloody hell is that?” said Gull.

“Never mind, scribe.”

“You brought him up. Who’s this ancient one?”

Riston gave a great sigh that sounded like a gust of wind. “Don’t focus on…Listen, forget about the ancient one! Focus instead…on your imminent deaths!”

The insects dispersed. I couldn’t say I was sad to see the last of those giant, weird lips, but our situation hadn’t exactly improved.

Fifty insects hovered in the air now, all in a line. Ready to attack.

There were barely a dozen of us. Jahn and I had no essence, and Eric and the others couldn’t use their weapons without making things worse.

It didn’t look good at all.

But… I hadn’t paid for a portal to take us to a potential insect nest and then failed to plan for the presence of insects. That’d be moronic.

“Cynthia?” I said.

The tinker tugged the strap of her goggles, tightening them. “Alright, everyone! Remember what I said: aim at the walls. We all know what happens when we hurt these things, so let’s not have any accidents.”

Everyone with hands, which excluded Jahn and me, produced little gooey balls from their pockets and satchels. They looked like snot-covered oysters and didn’t smell much better.

Cynthia took out a flint stick and a strikestone. One after another, the guys approached her, held out their balls – their goo balls, that is – and let Cynthia strike a spark. Their balls caught on fire.

Again, their goo balls.

Eric was the first to throw his. It was a good one. The ball sailed thirty feet into the air and then splatted on the wall. Four insects turned to face it, curious.

The ball popped, and a yellow gas seeped out.

“Woo hoo!” I shouted.

It wasn’t like me to show such enthusiasm. Very uncore-like, actually.

But I loved it when something worked out. It was undeniably thrilling to see a plan go as I intended.

Before we had left the tunnel, Cynthia had used powders and ingredients from her satchel supply to make more of the brew that put the insects to sleep. This time, she had also combined it with the potion she had made weeks ago. The one I had commissioned to stop anyone from being able to control my creature’s minds.

I watched Shadow throw her goo ball. Then Tomlin, though his throw was pathetic. Then Wylie, who had strong biceps from all