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

visit Gary in his cell, but I didn’t. I was too wrapped up in finding a solution, that I didn’t think enough about Gary. That was on me.

“I’m sorry, Gary.”

Gary gently patted me with a leech leg. “Come on, now. Don’t feel bad, Beno.”

Gulliver stepped away from the chamber wall. After getting back into town and regaining access to her alchemy tent, Cynthia had been able to take care of his leg properly. I was glad to see him looking so well.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said.

Gary nodded.

“You still don’t remember what happened, do you?” I said.

“I’m afraid not.”

“We could always leave it that way…” said Gulliver.

“We could?” said Gary. He shook his head. “No. I have to know what I’m capable of. You said that you could help me remember.”

“We can,” I said.

“What do you need to do? Hypnotize me? Use some sort of mind spell? I can’t say I find it appealing, good chaps, but if it lets me know the truth…”

“No hypnotism. No spells. Gulliver?”

Gulliver went to the corner of the room and grabbed something. He walked back to us holding a giant hammer with little shocks of red and blue light running over it.

Gary’s eight eyes widened. “You’re going to beat it out of me?”

“This is the Hammer of Truth,” I said. “Rather unimaginatively named, but the hero I killed to get it wasn’t the brightest. One hit with this and the truth will come spilling out.”

“I don’t think I want to…”

“It will only take a tap,” I said. “Besides, Gull couldn’t swing it hard enough to hurt. He’s a scribe, remember? He has the tiny muscles to prove it.”

“If you’re sure, Core Beno.”

“No, this is about you. Are you sure?”

“I have to know.”

Gulliver lifted the hammer, and all three of us braced for it.

The next day, the entire dungeon walked through the streets of Yondersun. Kobolds, beetles, barbarians. Gary walked in front of us all. He walked through Jahn’s Row, and we followed, giving him a march of honor. It was only right that we were all there.

Townsfolk watched from windows and shop doorways. There were no traders today. No shoppers. They were all standing there, yes, but not as merchants. Not as people looking to spend a pleasant day visiting the shops in Jahn’s Row. They were there as normal folk. As mourners, still in grief for the people who’d lost their lives.

There had been a ceremony to bury those who had become wraiths. It had lasted a full day. Friends and family gave eulogies for their loved ones. None of the townsfolk could remember what had happened the last few days, but the memories of their loved ones were untouched. They told sad stories. They made jokes. They celebrated the lives of the people who Riston and Ray had killed.

My last act on the Yondersun council had been to tell Galatee and Reginal what happened. They didn’t remember any of it, of course. Riston’s spells had made sure of that.

I had thought about spinning a tale. Altering the truth a little to be the way I wanted it. One that would make me and the other dungeon monsters look better.

But I didn’t. I told them the truth.

It was Reginal and Galatee who decided that the people would prefer a lie. That the town would be better off if they didn’t know about the ancient core and the mad mage. That instead, they wanted a story about an accident at the quarry, a vague tale about gases being released and affecting people’s minds temporarily.

Well, it was up to them what they told the townsfolk. I wasn’t a part of the town anymore.

And now, under a beautiful night sky, we followed Gary out of town. Waiting at the town gates was an old man. He was dressed in clothes that had once been fine, but now bore signs of age. He had a lute in his hands.

“Gary,” I said. “Can we have a word?”

Gary and I moved away from everyone.

“Are you sure about this?” I said.

“You heard what happened, Beno. The hammer made me say it. Every word. You know what I did.”

“It’s not strictly your fault. Those people hurt you. Badly. You thought they were your friends, that you could trust them.”

“You can’t make an excuse for slaughtering four people, Beno. Even you don’t believe there’s anything that can redeem this, do you?”

Honestly, I didn’t.

When Gulliver used the Hammer of Truth on Gary and them asked him about that night, I’d expected to hear that Gary had nothing to do with it. That he’d gotten drunk, and Riston had set him up.

The getting drunk part was true. But the rest of it was just as it appeared. Like a few people had told me, when you find a drunken monster in the place where four people were slaughtered, the simplest answer was the best.

Or worst, in this case.

Really, though, I was to blame. I had created Gary. I had made him in my dungeon for the sole purpose of killing heroes. The townsfolk weren’t heroes, sure, but that wasn’t the point. Killing was a part of Gary. It was instinctual. When ale and betrayal were thrown into the mix, the lines of who he should and shouldn’t kill were blurred.

“You don’t have to go,” I told him. “Gull and I haven’t told Galatee anything about what you remember. She thinks Riston did it. We can let her carry on.”

“No. By all rights, I should never have left that cell.”

I had nothing to say to that.

“Thank you, Beno, but no. Farzo is a master bard, and he says I can travel with him. He visits taverns all around Xynnar and plays there. And the gold he