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

than done. I searched my memory to think of anything we had learned in the academy related to wraiths. I knew how they were made. I knew their strengths and weaknesses. Nothing about reversing the wraith process.

Jahn and I discussed it. Eric told us stories about any wraith-like things he’d encountered on his travels. Gulliver opened his artificed satchel and pulled out a bunch of notebooks. These were full of entries he’d written in shorthand while on his various travels over the years. He flicked through them. He had a code for how he organized and labeled entries, and it didn’t take him long.

“Nothing,” he said.

“We aren’t going to be able to change them back, are we?” said Eric.

It was a tragedy. So many townsfolk. Families. Travelers. Some had just wanted to live a peaceful life in Yondersun. Others had been wandering through the wasteland to trade, to make a living. They’d ended up turned into undead monsters, their corpses piled up like trash in a dungeon chamber.

I wanted to tell everyone that we could fix this, but I wouldn’t lie to them.

“The process of becoming a wraith involves death,” I said. “I don’t think we can reverse it.”

“But even in undeath, there is a sort of life, isn’t there?” said Gulliver. “Their brains work, in a fashion. There must be something.”

“What about the girl?” said Eric. “What if she can…uh…clear the bad wraith stuff from their heads?”

“They’d still be wraiths.”

“Physically. But if they could think and talk like people…”

“That doesn’t seem likely,” I said.

Bolton caught up to Anna. He put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched and turned away so his hand fell off her.

“You could have backed me up,” she said. “Everyone starin’ at me. A nice word wouldn’t have been hard. Would it, huh?”

“This isn’t about going against you. This is about a whole town under a mage’s spell. This Riston fella wants to fight Beno.”

“He’s got the right idea.”

“Beno will fight back. It’s in his nature as a core. And Riston will use the townspeople in that fight. Some of them will die.”

“So? If you fight, you might die. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that.”

“These folks are under a spell. They aren’t choosing to do anything. Whereas you, Anna, do have a choice. Just like you did at the Chosen One school. You chose to leave.”

“They threw me out!”

“No, you broke their most sacred rule. If we’re talking about choices, then understand this: you gave the school no choice. You chose to help your friend, use your magic on a teacher, and everything that happened afterward is a result of your choice.”

“Choice? Ha. I’m a Chosen One, remember? The name implies that someone else already did a whole bunch of choosing for me.”

Bolton was struck with understanding. It was so simple that he couldn’t believe he’d missed it in all the time he’d been traveling with the girl. It was so straight forward that he laughed.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You were unhappy that your destiny was mapped out even when you were a baby. That before you could talk, someone had made a plan for you, and you were designated as a Chosen One. So that’s why you got yourself kicked out of the school.”

“Who gave you brains all of a sudden?”

“I’m told you acquire them with age. Wisdom, they call it. You’d think that after three lives, I’d have more of it by now. I’ve made poor choices too, Anna.”

“I’ll say. I didn’t want to mention it, but your new boots…”

“When I was a dungeon core and I earned the right to be resurrected as a man again, I had so many options. I could have lived a normal life. Found my soul mate. Had children. Enjoyed a happy, peaceful existence. But I was vain. I had learned so much as a dungeon core, that I wanted to show off my immense knowledge to everyone. That was why I started teaching at the academy. To show young cores like Beno how great I was. In doing so, I made a choice. I decided to forfeit having a family. Throw away the chance of making real, last connections. You see the result of that before you; just a lonely old man.”

Anna said nothing for a while.

Bolton stayed silent, too. He’d said all there was to say. Said things he’d been thinking for a while, but hadn’t imagined ever uttering out loud. He’d probably never have said it to anyone else, but this girl was so obstinate about speaking her thoughts, that it had rubbed off on him.

Finally, she spoke. “You’re not just a lonely old man.”

“Trust me, Anna. I am.”

“No, you’re not just a lonely old man. You’re a lonely old man with terrible, terrible boots.”

He sighed, turning away from her. “Why do I even bother?”

He began to walk away.

She caught up to him. Grabbed his hand.

“Thank you for all the stuff you showed me, Bolton. All the skills you taught me. I mean it.”

He was floored. That was the first time he’d heard her express gratitude for anything.

“I’ll try and help the stupid townspeople,” she said. “But if it works, I want a reward. A statue, maybe. If it doesn’t work, I’m not sticking around. I hate this stupid wasteland place.”

“Me too, Anna. Me too.”

By the time we heard footsteps coming from the tunnel outside the chambers, I was exasperated. We’d discussed everything we knew about wraiths, and none of us had ever heard of a way of reversing the wraith process.

Anna and Bolton appeared in the chamber archway.

“I’ll help with the town morons,” she said. “But don’t make a thing of it. Don’t go saying I’m the best person ever, or a hero, or something.”

“A hero? I wouldn’t even give