“Well…thank you, Core Beno. It is an honor.”
CHAPTER 12
Goblins and people take a long time to die, especially when you have to listen to them do it. The phrase a watched cauldron never bubbles never seemed so apt.
This might sound callous if you’re not accustomed to mass slaughter, but it isn’t quite so bad. Honestly, it isn’t.
Anyone who goes into a dungeon knows the risk they are taking, and every dungeon dweller has a right to defend their home. Especially when their own second life is at stake. If Jahn or I failed, we’d both be ground to core dust by First-Leaf Godwin, and the Wrotun people would be in trouble.
One thing you learn as a core is that life runs in cycles, and life and death are two meeting points. One cannot exist without the other. Take one away, and the circle becomes misshapen.
This was what the Wrotun were doing, in a way. They had taken the death part of the circle and used the mana spring to wrench it free, pulling it further and further away so that their circle of life and death probably looked more like an egg.
For a while, I listened to the Seekers discussing the riddle with one another. As I suspected, none of them spoke Kobold. Riddles are annoying at the best of times, but ones written in another language?
After they realized they wouldn’t open the door that way, they resorted to force. Their bard played a song on his tambourine, using his lyrics to form a spell that he blasted at the door.
Nothing. Not even the bard’s best power ballad would open it.
The bigger goblin took a breath and swung his warhammer at the door again and again, the sound ringing out through the dungeon.
Nothing.
The ranger goblin, with his squirrels climbing over him, didn’t appear to have tried anything. But then, rangers are fairly useless in a dungeon, aren’t they? I don’t even know why they brought him.
Finally, I felt a little more assured that they wouldn’t break through the door and come looking for me, so I focused on other things.
I wondered if I could free the humans who the goblins had used as trap bait. It was clear they were slaves or prisoners, since you wouldn’t force an equal to walk into a trap-strewn tunnel.
How would I do that, though? I thought about opening a riddle door and calling the humans over, but that was just as likely to get the goblin’s attention.
The other option was to speak to them all. Try and broker a deal with the goblins that they would release their prisoners if I let them leave the dungeon. That, however, went against everything I stood for, every principle that the academy had hammered into me again and again.
I had already let someone flee one of my dungeons. If I did it again, I would start to get a reputation.
Still, I couldn’t help but think that not only was freeing the humans the right thing to do, but it could be useful. They would have information on the Seekers that the Wrotun could use. It was that line of thinking that made me act.
In my core room, Warrane was sitting on a chair I had allowed him to bring in. He had a blanket draped over his knees, since this place must have been draughty if you could feel such things, and a pile of books by his feet.
“Warrane, I need you to go fetch Galatee,” I said.
“This leaf is glad to have something to do,” said the boy.
Then, I heard a voice.
“Why fetch what is already here?”
Two figures walked into my core room. First was Galatee, and with her was First-Leaf Godwin. Galatee seemed a little tense, but that was nothing to how First-Leaf Godwin looked. His gnome eyes were redder than forge coals, and his skin seemed even more shriveled around his face. He looked like he was clenching his jaw, too. If there was ever a gnome in need of a massage, it was him.
Godwin walked around my core room without a word, and then through the tunnel to my essence room, his staff rapping on the stony ground.
“Seekers arrived,” I said to Galatee. “I didn’t expect them so soon.”
“Neither did we, Core Beno. Their last attack was the greatest yet, and they lost many. I had thought you would have time to build your defenses before they tried again.”
“There were only eight of them. Four humans, four goblins.”
“Ah. Their ferrets.”
“That’s what they called them.”
“It is a tactic they employed a few moons ago. Disarming our traps with care was taking them too long, so they found another means of progressing through our tunnels.”
“Seems a little barbaric. Coming from a dungeon core, that says something.”
“They are ruthless people. I believe they buy their ferrets from the cities far to the south, where criminals are sold as slaves. I told the First-Leaf that we should send a party to those cities and recruit the criminal for our own defense, but First-Leaf insisted that we should spend our last fortune on cores. Now, who is this?”
She nodded at Shadow now, who was drawing something on a patch of dirt in the corner of the core room. I looked closer and saw it was a diagram of the tunnels, one that matched my map inch for inch.
An escape plan?
I supposed you can’t change someone’s nature. Of course, she couldn’t leave the dungeon without my permission; the essence inside her was attuned to me, as her creator. That didn’t stop her plotting.
“Shadow,” I said. “This is Second-Leaf Galatee.”
The kobold and gnome regarded each other. Shadow gave a slight bow.
“Welcome to our home,” said Galatee.
A rhythmic thudding marked Godwin’s return now. He didn’t seem like a jovial kind of gnome by nature, but he was especially displeased today.
“I had expected a dungeon core to be a much faster worker,” he said.
I was about to speak when Galatee addressed her elder. “Core Beno has already repelled a Seeker attack.”
“Well, I didn’t quite say that,” I said. “I’ve stopped them, but I haven’t repelled them yet.”
“They aren’t swarming our tunnels, so I assumed you had defeated them?”
“This is why I was going to get Warrane to bring you here. Let me show you. Shadow, could you carry me, please?”
I led them north of the core room, through a winding tunnel, until we reached the riddle door with a cockatiel’s head as the knocker. Muffled voices came from beyond it.
Godwin tapped it with the base of his staff. “A strange construction. It seems like iron, but there is something different, weird decoration aside.”
“This is a riddle door,” I said. “A complex blend of iron and essence, with an annoying personality. It is with just two doors that I held back a full party of Seekers.”
Strange; I hadn’t planned on saying that, it just came out. It seemed that I wanted to impress the First-Leaf. I guessed it was because of his mage staff and the threat it represented to my second life, that gave me that attitude. Funny what impending death can do.
I addressed both of them now. “There are eight Seekers trapped in this tunnel. Three humans, four goblins. They can’t escape by force, and they haven’t deciphered the riddle that will open the door, thanks to a display of great ingenuity from…never mind. They’re trapped, that’s the extent of it. Now, I could wait until my essence replenishes and then let a few monsters loose in there. Or, we could wait it out. Mortal beings have a pesky reliance on food and water, so they would eventually die. But, I had a better idea.”
“Ah,” said Galatee. “I think I understand. Very clever.”
I liked Galatee. Not only did she seemed much more level-headed than her elder, but she caught on to things quickly. I resolved that she would be my point of contact from now on. I’d keep First-Leaf out of it as much as I could.
The First-Leaf faced the door now. The cockatiel knocker blinked at him. I knew that the knocker could appear on both sides of the door at once, since the riddle would need to be solved no matter where you opened it from.
First-Leaf tapped it with his staf
f, and the cockatiel gave a squawk.
“Ah, a new face. No time to waste. The goblins behind, they have taken their time. Perhaps you can solve my riddle.”
“What is it?” said First-Leaf.
The cockatiel spoke now. Though I could understand the words, I knew they would be in the kobold language.
“What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?”
“Simple,” said Godwin. “A river.”
Galatee eyed him strangely. “First-Leaf, the language you were talking…”
“It is Kobold. A harsh language, blunt on the ears and very throaty.” He turned to me now. “I am a polyglot.”
“And you just made a mistake,” I said. “There’s a reason this was locked.”
With the riddle solved, the door swung open, and now we could hear the Seeker party further up the tunnel. Luckily, it seemed they were trying their luck with the bullhead riddle door.
“I better close it and set a new riddle,” I said. “We need them locked in. The reason I called you here is that I thought you could bring some people from the caves. A dozen or so, all armed. If we can take the Seekers as prisoners, or some of them at least, you can find out more about them. Their numbers, their plans.”
First-Leaf ignored me, stepping beyond the riddle door and into the tunnel. He raised his staff, and now the base glowed a pond-water green.
He suddenly smashed it down on the ground. There was a flash of light, and a green mist spread out, snaking north through the tunnel.
Galatee gagged. Shadow retreated a few steps, holding her nose. I was glad I had muted my senses.
First-Leaf left the tunnel and closed the door. “It should only take a minute for them to die.”
Galatee seemed to recover herself. “First-Leaf, Core Beno was right to bring us here. What have you done? We have never caught a Seeker alive.”
I heard a muffled scream from beyond the riddle door. Several voices all shouting out. The First-Leaf had released some kind of toxin spell, I realized. In such a cramped, locked space, it would be deadly.
Someone really needed to take that damn staff off him.
“There,” said First-Leaf. “The matter is settled. Seven less Seekers to prey upon us.”
“The information we gained would have been more valuable than seven deaths.”
“You presume to question me, Second-Leaf?”
Both gnomes locked eyes now. I could see the conflict within Galatee. She was a strong gnome, firm of purpose and full of resolve. Yet, she nodded at the First-Leaf now.
“Good. Core Beno, your progress is much slower than I anticipated. I will expect better when I return.”
The First-Leaf left us now. Warrane, who had stayed back against the wall and kept quiet, watched him leave. When the rap-tat-tap of his staff got quieter, Warrane approached me.
“The First-Leaf has lost his mind!”
Galatee shot him a stern glance. “A Fifth talks such a way about a First?”
“This leaf is sorry, Galatee.”
“He should be. He is right, but he should be. He needs to learn when to swallow his words.”
She said this with a trace of affection. I knew then that Galatee respected her elder but feared him, and that she liked Warrane. I wondered what this place would be like if the First-Leaf was gone. He was like a heavy stone keeping them submerged in a pool of water.
I had so many questions now, and it was hard to know where to begin. I started with the most obvious.
“Was Core Jahn attacked too?” I asked.
“Your friend was not attacked.”
“And has he…tell me he hasn’t absorbed all of his essence?”
“Absorbed? I won’t pretend to know how a dungeon core works,” said Galatee, “But I can tell you this. He has grown a spread of vines on his wall. The books I read before purchasing you told me that this is essence, no?”
Ah, that was good to hear. Jahn had learned from his mistake, at least.
“Is there a way for Jahn and I to get messages to each other?” I asked. “We may need to coordinate with each other if the Seekers choose to attack on both fronts.”
“Our kobold miners use a system of crystals to send messages between each tunnel. I will see if there are any spare.”
“Thank you, Galatee.”
“That is not all, Core Beno.” She said this with a hint of a smile on her usually stern face.
“Oh?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
CHAPTER 13
Galatee walked away from us, heading back to the core room. Shadow, holding me, followed her, and once we arrived she helped me onto my pedestal point. There, floating above the rest of them, I felt a little more at ease.
The Second-Leaf carried on walking, and soon I couldn’t hear her footsteps anymore.
“A surprise,” I said. “I wonder what it is.”
Warrane shrugged. Shadow resumed her drawing on the mud in the corner.
Before long I heard Galatee coming back. There was more than one set of footsteps. There were two sets. Maybe three.
And an unusual squelching noise.
“This way,” Galatee said.
I was curious now. No, not curious. Wildly intrigued. It had been a while since someone had gotten me a surprise. I held it in, though. It isn’t very core-like to show too much excitement.
“Dark Lord!” cried a voice.
And then…then I forgot any notion of stupid core decorum.
“Tomlin!” I shouted.
I couldn’t believe it. Two kobolds burst into the room, followed by a spider-troll-leech monstrosity, whose leech legs made a slurping sound as he walked.
It was Tomlin, Wylie, and Gary. As I stared at them, questions formed and then died in my mind. I was so happy to see them.
Tomlin had been my first ever kobold. He was a loyal kobold who shirked manual labor whenever he could, and who loved to study.
Wylie was my second kobold. Not as studious as Tomlin by a long shot, but he’d happily dig through five thousand miles of mud if I asked him too.
Gary, meanwhile, was no kobold. Truth be told, there was no name for Gary’s race because I had created it. Using the Melding room in my old dungeon, I had combined a spider, leech, and rock-troll to create this magnificent creature. A monstrous meld of species, with the body of a gigantic spider, skin of a rock troll, and eight slurping leeches for legs, complete with the teeth every good leech should have.
He was the kind of monster that invaded your dreams. The sort of nemesis that bards sang about in ballads of the seven hells. A darkness of the soul, corruption of everything dear in the world of Xynnar.
“Delighted to make your acquaintance again, dear core,” he said.
“Gary, the delight is all mine. Get over here! Tomlin, Wylie, you too.”
I could hardly contain happiness at seeing my old friends. “Galatee…how did you do this?”
I noticed that she was grinning too, now. See? I knew there was heart behind that stern gnome face!
“When I purchased you and Jahn, I discovered that the Academy was selling some of their creatures. An overseer, a rather polite balding chap, explained that the King has reduced the academy's budget, and they have to make up the shortfall somewhere. I believe they have begun selling some of their creatures to hero guilds. They required these three creatures to complete a task and promised to send them to us when they were finished. And here they are.”
The academy was selling monsters to hero guilds?
This should have come as a surprise. After all, the purpose of the Dungeon Core Academy was to create and train cores who could kill heroes.
So, why would they purposefully sell creatures to hero guilds? Why would the guilds buy them?
The second question was easy to answer. Heroes would buy these creatures and use them to train their recruits. It was a way to level up their fighters without risking them in a dungeo
n.
The first question…well, you have to remember that this whole dungeon business is a balancing act. There is an entire strata of Xynnar’s economy based on dungeons and heroes, and one cannot exist without the other.
See, the academy doesn’t hate heroes. Neither do cores, really. We delight in murdering them, sure. That’s our nature. But we don’t hold a deep hatred for them. After all, if there were no heroes to raid dungeons, then there would be no need to create dungeon cores, would there?
Our entire existence relied on heroes being willing to loot dungeons. That meant that the academy’s continuation relied on that too. So, they would have no qualms selling creatures to a heroes’ guild if it meant they could earn money, while ensuring there was a healthy population of heroes to make a dungeon’s existence worthwhile. The whole thing was a big circle you could get lost in if you tried to work out its details.
What it meant was that I had my clanmates back. I was beyond glad that Tomlin, Wylie, and Gary hadn’t been sold off to become training fodder for some fuzz-faced hero to practice one.
“Thank you, Galatee,” I said. “This is a better surprise than I could have hoped for.”
“I am glad, Core Beno, because the gold I used on purchasing them was set aside for buying new carts and pickaxes for the kobold miners, but I believed that a better use would be investing in your chances of success. Now that you have seen the Seekers, I hope you understand their anger. Their ruthlessness. Their utter determination.”
“And their inability to speak kobold,” I said.
Galatee smiled. “I have to go. I hope you can work quicker now; the First-Leaf is incredibly hard to please. We gave up trying to buy him suitable presents for his birthday many decades ago.”
Galatee left. As Warrane and Shadow made their introductions to our newest arrivals, a few messages appeared in front of me.
Monsters added to dungeon:
Tomlin [Kobold Lieutenant Lvl 3]
Wylie [Kobold Miner Lvl 6]
Gary [Boss monster Lvl1]
Things were really beginning to take shape. I now had three kobolds and a boss monster. Tomlin was a lieutenant, but unlike Shadow, this rank didn’t mean much.
Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) Page 23
