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

You’d think that Overseer Bolton would have experienced more of the world than Gulliver. After all, he was on his third resurrection and had already lived two full lives.

The problem was that his second life was as a dungeon core, and this meant he couldn’t remember his first. As a dungeon core, he had spent much of the second life underground, spawning monsters and battling heroes. He hadn’t had have time to see much of Xynnar.

He had lately decided to live his third life as best he could, while still serving Jahn’s mission. This didn’t just mean taking up the habit of smoking a pipe. It meant that he joined Anna on the end of the carriage, marveling at the beautiful scenery that passed by.

“I see it!” said Anna.

Ahead of us was a city built on a great sloping hill, leading up to a mountain. The mountain rose to the heavens, culminating in a strange, bowl-shaped peak. That couldn’t have been natural. Someone must have shaped the mountain itself to make an arena. It was astounding what people could do when they bothered.

“You can’t see it from down here,” said Bolton, “but a big pit has been excavated at the top of the mountain. That is where the main arena is. This is why the city of Heaven’s Peak is the home of the Battle of the Five Stars. The city’s entire commerce is built around the tournament.”

“Even though it only happens every ten years?” said Anna.

“The tournament will draw spectators from all over the world. There will be merchants, weaponsmiths, beer vendors, alchemists, potion makers. Many of them will have spent the last decade building up a stock surplus just so they can travel to Heaven’s Peak and make a fortune.”

“Why do they care so much about a battle between a bunch of stupid dungeon cores?” said Anna. Then, she looked at Jahn and me, and said, “Offense intended.”

“Anna...” said Bolton.

Anna shrugged. “Gladiator tournaments happen all over the world. If you visit Damerel, you can pay five coppers to go in the arena and watch mercenaries get disemboweled by enraged rhinos. I don’t see why a bunch of stupid stones conjuring stupid monsters is so special that people should prepare ten years for it.”

“The tournament goes back a long way,” said Bolton. “To when the Empire first officially recognized and licensed the forging of dungeon cores. Forging a dungeon core used to be forbidden, you know. Not a surprise, given how dangerous they can be.”

“Dangerous? Pah,” she said.

I tried to hold my metaphorical tongue, but something about this girl wound me tight. “I seem to remember capturing you, Anna, and imprisoning you in one of my cells. If it wasn’t for Bolton coming to rescue you, you’d still be there.”

“It was all part of my plan. I was just biding my time.”

“Stop bickering,” said Bolton. “Anna, you said you would try to behave like a Chosen One.”

“I’ve been studying and training!”

“A Chosen One doesn’t just have to develop their powers. They also have to act with decorum. Listen to an old man, will you?”

“Sorry, Overseer Bolton,” said Anna. The words sounded like glass in her throat.

Bolton nodded. “The empire had brought almost all of Xynnar under its flag. That left the Shielded Republic, the last territory in Xynnar holding out against unification.”

“The empire was getting its arse kicked, wasn’t it?” said Gulliver.

“It depends on what you read. Some of the more pro-empire scholars would say otherwise. I agree with you, Gulliver. By then, the empire had been warring for twenty years. Their troops were tired, their numbers stretched. The Shielded Republic had bided their time, building their armies and erecting defenses. The empire was getting its big, flabby arse well and truly kicked.”

Gulliver closed his book, his eyes sparkling with interest. “If I was a good little boy in school and remember my lessons, the Shielded Republic was one battle away from bringing the empire to its knees.”

“A house is at its most vulnerable when its foundations are still wet.”

“Who’d build a house on wet foundations?” said Gulliver.

“Can I not say something that sounds vaguely wise without it being picked apart? I swear, you people…”

“Sorry, Bolton. Go on.”

“Given how desperate they were, the empire decided to forgo its moral stance toward dungeon cores, in favor of how useful a core could be. When properly instructed and controlled, of course. After all, a dungeon core can convert essence into the very fabric of life, conjuring monsters from the ether. Name an army who wouldn’t want that? Cores were brought into the empire’s forces, and they helped turn the tide against the Shielded Republic. That was that.”

“Ah but people weren’t so happy to have these magical blocks of stone floating around, were they?” said Gulliver.

I bristled at the insult and was about to correct Gulliver on his terminology, when he winked at me.

Bolton nodded. “Quite so. Despite their victory, the people were still suspicious, of course. Hence the Battle of the Five Stars. It originally began as an exhibition. A draw for the crowds, where the cores would fight each other to provide entertainment. It was a way for the Empire to get the public used to cores. To see them as an interesting diversion, instead of masters of death. In other words, to stop people from being so suspicious of them. But the tournament proved to be a fertile breeding ground for core talent, vital in developing the powers of the best cores. As such, the event has carried on long after cores have become an everyday part of our existence.”

I found it strange to hear cores beings talked about this way. As dangerous freaks that people should be suspicious of. That people should be tricked into getting used to us. I didn’t like it.

“Perhaps we should arrange