Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Alex Oakchest (list of ebook readers .TXT) 📖
- Author: Alex Oakchest
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“I’m scared, Beno,” said Jahn. “You know that I can’t use this power. I can’t create wraiths. I can’t kill. I’m not a dungeon core.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re so much better than that. But I’ll always be with you.”
“Ray’s gone,” I said. “That means his wraiths are, too.”
“Those poor people. They didn’t deserve this,” said Jahn.
“They didn’t. But just think what kind of ancient cores are out there. Think of the nasty crap they’ll do.”
“What about the rest of the townsfolk?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “I’m a core. That means I’ve been considering how to end his mind control a whole bunch of ways. Magic, counter-spells, getting that brat to use her powers…everything.”
“Less of the brat. You ought to give Anna a chance,” said Bolton.
“After what she did to Shadow?”
“You’ll need her, Beno. Now that Jahn knows what he is, some of his ancient instincts will come back. He’ll be able to find the awakeners and the other cores. But even that will be hard. Actually killing them will be tougher. You’ll need everyone, Beno. You and Jahn and your monsters can’t do it alone.”
He was right. I hated it, but I knew he was.
“What do we do about the town?” said Jahn. Bless him, after everything he’d been told, that was all he cared about. The beloved town that he helped build, and all the people in it.
Ray might have been a bastard. Maybe most of the ancient cores were. But Jahn was an exception.
“The way I see it, the answer’s simple,” I said.
“What?”
“We kill Riston. End him, and his spell will end, too. With the insects dead and the wraiths gone, we can get to him now. I might not be some ancient core from a long, glorious line, but I am a core, and it’s time I acted like it. I know how to kill things. Now let’s get out of here. I want Riston dead, and I want my own dungeon back. This place is a pit.”
CHAPTER 24
It took us a full day to get close to Yondersun. It should have taken a quarter of that, but Gulliver and Warrane were still weak. We had to stop and let them rest every so often. While we did, people asked Jahn to tell them what happened in the core chamber. No matter how many times they heard the story, they never got bored of hearing it, and Jahn never stopped loving telling it. I just stayed quiet.
All that time the sky remained pitch-black. It was a nighttime sky, but an unnatural kind; this was the 50 nights, and there were no stars. No moon. It was a night sky that had been forced upon the wasteland. I wondered if killing Riston would end it, or if we’d just have to wait it out.
Along the way, we found the wraiths. They had left Ray’s dungeon at night time but hadn’t gotten too far before we killed Ray. It was a gut-wrenching sight even for a core like me, who lacked guts to wrench. A bunch of townsfolk lying dead on the wasteland. A reminder of what ancient cores were capable of. What we’d have to stop.
All that seemed lifetimes away. For now, all we could focus on was killing Riston, and me getting my dungeon back.
But there was a problem.
I had to get close enough to Riston to murder him, but Jahn had long ago built walls around Yondersun, on Galatee and Reginal’s orders. We were an isolated town, and we needed protection. That meant there were only two gates to get into town, and both of those were guarded.
“Barely a dozen guards,” said Eric. “I could hack my way through without breaking a sweat. Or at least, not sweating much.”
“They aren’t the enemy, Eric. They’re Yondersun townsfolk. We can’t kill them to get to Riston. If we do, we’re no better than Ray.”
“We could try the dungeon?” said Gulliver. “Your dungeon leads into town.”
“Nope. There’s not a chance that Riston hasn’t thought of that. My dungeon will be packed to the gills with guards.”
“Maybe we ask them nicely if we can go and have a chat with Riston. See if they’ll forget their mind-control, just for a minute,” said Eric.
He wasn’t being serious, but he’d given me an idea.
“Maginhart,” I said. “The orb you were making for your apprenticeship. Do you have it?”
“Dark Lord!” said Maginhart, alarmed. He subtly jerked his head toward Cynthia.
The tinker smiled. “What Ash Whiskers is trying to tell you, Beno, is that an apprentice does not show his master his project until it is finished.”
“Right. Sorry. But do you have it with you?”
“I gave you one of my early prototypesss, Dark Lord,” he said, with a trace of hurt in his voice. “Did you not keep it?”
“Of course I did, buddy. Do you not think I’d hold onto something like that? But you told me that it didn’t work. Do you have another?”
“I have another of my failed attemptsss.”
“We need a working one.”
“It worksss in a way, Dark Lord. Jussst not asss well asss I hoped.”
“Whiskers is a perfectionist,” said Cynthia. “Working with chemicals that could blow your face off tends to do that to you.”
Maginhart tapped his alchemy pack slung around his shoulder. It was covered in stains, burns, and the strap was half-worn off. He really should have gotten another one. I’d bought him the pack as a
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