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

Since we had Overseer Bolton with us, who had spent two dignified careers at the academy - as one of the greatest dungeon cores who ever lived, and then as an overseer - we gained an audience with Head Overseer Tarnbuckle.

Tarnbuckle’s office was in a cavern in the underground complex that made up the academy. The whole cave system had once been used by smugglers, and the warren of tunnels and passageways spread far and wide for miles. The cavern that Tarnbuckle took as head overseer was one of the biggest of the lot. Richly decorated with a plush couch, a huge desk designed to make his visitors feel small, and many objects and trinkets from far across Xynnar.

“You’ve done well for yourself, Reg,” said Bolton.

Tarnbuckle adjusted the head overseer necklace that hung around his neck. “It’s Head Overseer Tarnbuckle, actually. Nobody calls me Reg anymore.”

“You’ll always be Reg to me. Even with the new trinket around your neck. You’ll always be the overseer who used to be scared of his own cores.”

I sensed antipathy between Tarnbuckle and Bolton. I wondered if it was because Bolton had never gained the rank of head overseer. Then again, he was always talking about how happy he was to not be an overseer anymore. That he would finally get a chance to live his life. Was that all a facade? Did he secretly miss his old job?

“We have things to prepare for,” said Tarnbuckle, “so I regret I cannot give you too much of my time. Would you like to explain what two failed cores are doing here?”

It was the first time since arriving that Tarnbuckle had even acknowledged Jahn and me. Before getting here, we’d agreed that Bolton would do the talking. Even so, I was taking the disrespect harshly.

“It’s like this, Reg,” I said. “I am entering the Battle of the Five Stars and I want the Dungeon Core Academy to sponsor me.”

Tarnbuckle tried, and failed, to suppress a laugh. “You? You want the academy to sponsor a failed graduate in the most prestigious tournament in the land? A tournament that promises great rewards, and only happens once a decade? Out of the question. You are no longer part of the academy, and thus cannot be sponsored by us.”

 “I thought you might say that,” I said. “When I was a student here, I spent a lot of time in the library. I read every single book, committed them all to memory using the memory palace technique I was taught at this very place. It’s a pain, isn’t it, when your own teachings bite you on the arse?”

Tarnbuckle adjusted his head overseer necklace again. “Where are you going with this?”

“One of the books in the library lists the academy’s regulations. All 10,052 of them. One section - Section 78, Subsection J – concerns the Battle of the Five Stars.”

Tarnbuckle’s expression wavered for just a second. “What about it?”

“As an ex-academy core, even one who did not graduate, your regulations state you are duty-bound to evaluate me for potential sponsorship.”

Tarnbuckle stared at me for a moment. Sitting beside me, Bolton’s face was almost neutral, except for the slight hint of a smile.

Overseer Tarnbuckle picked up a red crystal from his desk. When he held his hands around it, the crystal glowed, and a voice spoke from it.

“Yes, Head Overseer?”

“Fetch me the regulation book,” Tarnbuckle said.

We sat there patiently while Tarnbuckle read the book that a kobold underling had brought him. Our patience was tested when he read the regulations a second, third, and fourth time.

“The words won’t change the more you read them,” I said.

Tarnbuckle slammed the book shut. He shook his head while tutting to himself. “Believe it or not, I was trying to be nice about this. You could have just accepted the excuse I gave, Core Beno. That you are not part of the academy any longer. But no, I suppose I’ll have to be blunt about it. The reason we will not sponsor you is that you were never all that promising as a core. We have much better cores to put forward.”

I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt to hear this from an overseer. Especially one like Tarnbuckle, who had taught me in Advanced Traps for Maximum Carnage class, and who I used to rather like. It seemed that becoming head of the academy had changed him.

“I was the quickest learner in my class. I put more effort into studying than any of the other cores. I earned the highest marks on my assignments, I answered every question asked of me, I completed every task I was given.”

“And yet you didn’t graduate. Being a core isn’t just about who spends most time reading books. What matters is the quality of your core. Of the soul we took from your mortal body, combined with the gemstone we forged it into. Yours was of lower stock than many others, Beno.”

“That’s not true.”

Tarnbuckle touched the red crystal again. “Jones? Fetch me the scale.”

Tarnbuckle’s underling brought a giant golden scale into the room. It was set on a marble base, on which ten symbols were carved. A strong wisp of mana and essence emanated from it. I had never seen the instrument before, and neither Bolton, given how he was leaning forward and peering at it.

Tarnbuckle stood beside it. “A new test developed by our artificers. It is used to measure a person’s potential core quality before we forge them into cores. Saves us from making expensive mistakes. It can also be used to test existing cores.”

“It measures core purity?” asked Bolton.

Tarnbuckle shook his head. “Not purity. Quality. A core’s quality is like a signpost that shows us their potential. If you doubt my word so much, why not let me show you?”

Suddenly, this golden scale