Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series)

by Alex Oakchest

  We met in the largest space in the dungeon, the room Wylie had excavated to become the loot chest room. There was Tomlin, Shadow, Maginhart, and all the other lovely kobolds I had birthed.

  Ugh. Even saying birthed in my head sounded weird. I’ll stick with saying created.

  I couldn’t help but notice that Tomlin and Shadow were holding hands, and they were trying to be subtle about it. Damn kobolds and their foolish ideas of romance.

  Nearby were a few more kobold miners. Then there was my anti-seeker squad; the eight kobolds led by the level 15 bard Brecht. The squad was made from a mixture of the ranger, warrior, bard, and barbarian classes, and they were one of my toughest offensive squads.

  Finally, there was the hivemind boss monster, represented now by a single dead-eyed bone guy, since the main hive lived on the melding room ceiling.

  Looking at them all, I was proud of what I’d done. It wasn’t too long ago that I had made my very first kobold, Tomlin, and that had been a strain on my essence.

  At the same time, I was struck with the idea of absence. That Gary and Wylie should be here.

  “Tomlin wonders if Dark Lord will talk,” said Tomlin. “He feels that the silence is awkward. Dark Lord is not known for keeping his words to himself.”

  A few kobold miners laughed now. Brecht idly drummed his tambourine, which actually added to the tension. I mean come on; when you’re already tense, the last thing you need is a drumbeat.

  “I suppose you all know what happened yesterday with the idiot goatief boy. Well, there has been a development,” I said.

  I explained what I had heard in the meeting. Starting with how they blamed us for the boy’s death, and what Godwin had persuaded them to do about it.

  “Then surely, the best option is for us to leave?” asked Shadow.

  “If it were as simple as that, I would. But Galatee holds Jahn and my deeds. We can’t stray from her.”

  “Then she can destroy you.”

  “Not quite. I’m still a free-thinking being, and she can’t force me to do anything here. She certainly can’t force me to destroy myself. The only thing she can do is prevent me from fleeing.”

  “And I take it the same restrictions apply to us, but placed there by yourself?” asked Shadow.

  I might have known. Always thinking of herself, of escape.

  Other dungeon cores would have answered that question by smiting her down. Making an example of her. The theory of tyranny wasn’t just a way of a core being mean, it was a legitimate dungeon ruling technique.

  Maybe I had to change that part of me. I had always treated the creatures in my dungeon as their own people, but what did that bring me?

  Insubordination. Guilt. A feeling of sadness when they died, because I had made the fatal mistake of seeing them as something other than tools.

  Some overseers would be scowling if they could see me now, and perhaps it was time to make an example of Shadow. Now, more than ever, because I would soon have an invasion on my doorstep.

  I was about to speak when a voice beat me to it.

  “Tomlin will fight for Dark Lord,” he said. “And he will fight for his clan. Shadow will fight for hers. Maginhart, Brecht, and strange mushroom beast will fight. We all fight for the clan.”

  “Right,” I said. “Besides, I can destroy you if you don’t.”

  That seemed to do the trick.

  “Let’s talk defenses and traps,” I said. “But first, I need two things. I need someone to get a message to Core Jahn.”

  “If only someone had given you a cryssstal that accomplissshed that,” said Maginhart.

  “Hey! Without deconstructing it, I’d never have known that our owners were planning to kill us. Now, someone needs to leave the dungeon and sneak through the cavern and then get to the other side, where Jahn is guarding the surface door. And I say guarding in the loosest sense of the word.”

  “This leaf will do that,” said Warrane.

  All gazes turned toward the three-eyed, green-skinned teen who had just entered the loot room. One kobold snarled at him. If you’ve ever heard a kobold snarl, you’ll know just what a pathetic gesture that was.

  I understood the sentiment, though. I had come to see Warrane as a friend, what with his unbending desire to restore honor and his utter willingness to serve me, as well as the Soul Bard book club we had started. But things had changed. The Wrotuns were my enemy.

  “Brecht, don’t let him take another step.”

  Brecht the kobold bard faced Warrane now. He held out his giant tambourine. He fixed Warrane with a menacing snare, and then began to tease out a drumbeat. He did this slowly, as if he was trying to make it seem sinister.

  “Lesson learned,” I said. “Never use a bard to make a threat. Warrane, I’m sure you appreciate that you’re wildly outnumbered here, so you can spare me a show of force by agreeing I could kill you if I wished.”

  Warrane, to his credit, didn’t back down from meeting the gazes of the dungeon creatures. “This leaf understands.”

  “And furthermore, you can probably understand my reluctance to let you stay, given you have just come from a meeting of your people where it was agreed to kill me.”

  He looked surprised now. “Core Beno knows? How?”

  “I have my ways.”

  “Deconsssstructed crysssstal dusssst,” said Maginhart.

  “Shut up, kobold. You’re meant to leave things vague and unspoken. That’s how a dark lord fosters an air of mystery.”

  “Sssorry,” said Maginhart, then spoke to Warrane. “Hisss Dark Magnificence hassss his wayssss.”

  “This leaf had come to warn him of Godwin’s plan. To help him escape the cavern,” said Warrane.

  “Really?”

  Warrane nodded. “He has always served Core Beno properly in the time he has known him, has he not?”

  “That’s true, but these are your people. As much as we enjoy having you around, that simple fact precludes trust.”

  “This leaf’s people have called him a rotten leaf from a blackened branch for most of his life. He has worked to restore honor. Taken the tasks no other leaves would consider. Yet, honor does not come. Only Core Beno has ever treated him as an equal.”

  “I’m an ass, Warrane. I’m a murderous lord of a dungeon. I kill heroes. Even lads your age, sometimes. Maybe I didn’t insult you just because your parents left this stinking pit, but I’m no angel of light, let me tell you.”

  “This leaf believes that if Core Beno leaves by the surface door right now, his kobolds could carry him away before Godwin and the other leaves get here.”

  “We’ve already walked down that road warren. As good as your intentions are, it won’t work. Nevertheless, you bring up a good point. I can’t leave this place without Galatee’s permission. But all of you, my kobolds and my weird fungi creatures, you can leave, if you wish. As your creator, I can grant that.”

  There was a murmuring now. Following Godwin’s lesson, I waited for it to die down.

  “This will be a bloody battle,” I said. “I know I should be ruling you by utter tyranny, but a core cannot change who he is. Or some crap like that. All I’ll say is this; I have come to regard you as friends, and I don’t want to see you give your lives unwillingly. Anyone who wishes to live can leave now with my blessing.”

  Every kobold in the room shook their heads, which was what I’d banked on. They were loyal to me since I treated them right. By giving them a chance to leave before the battle, I had doubled their loyalty now that they had willingly chosen to fight.

  All except one.

  “Thanks, Dark Core, Magnificent Gem, whatever you like to be called,” said Shadow, running to the room exit. “Thanks for the roll in the hay, Tomlin. A good way to pass the time. See you around, chums.”

  And then Shadow was gone, headed north through the dungeon and toward the exit door. Tomlin watched her leave, looking like a sad puppy.

  “Right,” I said. “Back to matters of life and death. Fir
st, getting a message to Jahn. Who’s going to sneak through enemy lines?”

  “This leaf will.”

  “I have a better idea for using you, Warrane,” I said. “Sorry, not using you. I’m thinking of you as a dungeon creature now. Anyway, you can be of better service doing something else. Do you think you can free Gary and Wylie from their cells?”

  “The cells are the food larder,” said Warrane. “We have little crime, so no need of real cells. Chef Buirlion keeps the keys. This leaf can get them.”

  “Good. It strikes me that an easy way to stop this would be to have my miners fill in the tunnels that lead here, and then the Wrotun can’t reach me.”

  “How would Core Beno get a message to Core Jahn if the entryway is sealed? How would Gary and Wylie return to him? Besides, our own miners would eventually get through.”

  “Damn it. Who will go inform Jahn?”

  “I will,” said a voice.

  It was Shadow. She walked back into the loot room, head held high, shoulders straight. “I have decided that it would gain me more honor to help you, after all. Not through affection, but a sense of duty. I am a kobold of my word. A kobold of honor.”

  “You’re a serial escape artist,” I said.

  She nodded. “Yes, and, um, Seekers are approaching the surface door, so I couldn’t escape that way, anyhow.”

  “Seekers?” I said. My blood pressure went through the roof then. Or it would if had had blood, veins, or a heart.

  Luckily, cores are made to withstand pressure. Lots and lots of it.

  “Shadow, go warn Jahn about the Wrotun. Warrane, if you can get Gary and Wylie out of their cells, you’ll forever be known as First-Leaf Warrane in my dungeon.”

  Shadow gave a theatrical bow. I could feel the sarcasm emanating from it. Then she smiled at Tomlin, who scowled.

  “Something the matter?”

  “Tomlin is loyal. He hates disloyalty to the clan. He would like to announce that he is no longer romantically involved with kobold Shadow.”

  Without a word, Shadow left by the west tunnel. Warrane gave me a last look. “This leaf will deliver Gary to you.”

  This left me and my kobolds alone, and my mind was whirring in all different directions.

  “I need tunnels and traps,” I said. “Miners, I’ll need you to change the tunnels that lead here from the cavern. Carve out as many new openings, dead ends, false turns as you can in an hour. First sign of the Wrotun, get back here to the loot room. This is where we’ll hold out.”

  Maginhart, who was the de-facto miner supervisor without Warrane and Wylie here, stood at the head of the mining team. “An hour is barely enough time to dig a single tunnel opening, Dark Lord. We feel you are unrealistic in your expectations.”

  “I didn’t expect to be attacked on two fronts at once, with one of the attackers being the people who brought me here to defend them. If I’m a little too demanding, it's just a stress response. Just do what you can, Maginhart. Though I don’t think it’ll be enough.”

  “Tomlin can help.”

  “You’d help them dig?” I said. I was pleasantly surprised. Tomlin had always hated digging. He hated physical labor and had been all too happy to shirk it when I created a dedicated mining team.

  Was he doing this for the dungeon? For his clanmates? Pushing back his personal disliked of graft for the good of his…dare I say it...family?

  “No, Tomlin will not dig.”

  “Oh.”

  “But he has cultivated some red essence. Not much, Dark Lord must realize. But Tomlin knows what it does.”

  “That’s great! So tell me, Tomlin. This will be your chance to educate the dark lord for once.”

  “Red essence makes a creature stronger. If Tomlin ate it, he would become a better cultivator. If bard ate it, he may learn how to hold a tune.”

  Brecht glared at Tomlin now, while the rest of the anti-seeker kobold squad smirked.

  “I understand,” I said. “The red essence increases a creature’s class level. Fine, now I need to decide who gets it. How much is there?”

  “Tomlin thinks only four servings.”

  “And then it’d be used up, and I wouldn’t be able to cultivate more. The red essence will be gone for good. But if we don’t use it, we’re all dead. Decisions, decisions.”

  It was an easy decision, really. Logically, it was better to boost my chances of staying alive now, rather than saving the red essence for a future I may not get the chance to enjoy.

  The problem was, I’d be doing the exact thing that everyone looked down on Core Jahn for. I’d be eating all the red essence, instead of cultivating it. For a core, it was the ultimate show of ill-discipline.

  Still, what could I do?

  “If I might say so,” said Brecht. “My guys should get the essence. We’re your primary strike force. A sharpened sword slips easier into the gut.”

  “But if Tomlin eats red essence he becomes better cultivator, and can make more purple essence to regenerate Dark Lord’s powers.”

  At this point, I’d have been stroking my chin if I had one. “Then again, maybe neither of you should get it. Maginhart, you and the miners will eat the essence.”

  “What?” shouted Brecht. “You cannot be serious. You-”

  “Enough!” I boomed. I decided that this was a time when the tyrannical side of me was best shown. Maybe that was the trick; finding a balance. “The next kobold to question me will find himself nailed to the dungeon ceiling near the surface door as a little welcoming gift to the seekers. Maginhart, miners, eat the red essence. It will improve your mining abilities. Dig as many false turns as you can; make it difficult to find the core room.”

  “Yesss, hisss dark magnificence.”

  “Brecht, I want the anti-seeker squad stationed near the surface doors. There’s a puzzle floor loaded with pressure plates, and stepping on them fires vampiric darts from the walls. They won’t hurt you, but if any Seekers take damage, it will heal you. Give them the bloodiest welcome they’ve ever had in this dungeon.”

  “Yes, Dark Lord.”

  “Fungi-thing, send one of your ooze forms to the surface door, another to west to where the Wrotun will emerge. Get your intel, feed it to your hivemind, and then create as many elemental undead ooze as you can. Even if you eventually get so small you’re creating fly-sized ones. I want this loot room heaving with jelly.”

  This left just Tomlin. Dear, cowardly Tomlin. He was avoiding eye contact with me now. I knew he was dreading getting an order to fight. At the same time, he wouldn’t want to be shown up in front of the rest of them, and I didn’t want to humiliate him.

  “Tomlin,” I said. “Take a sword from the inventory room. Then, stay in the core room. Guard the spring. If any Seekers make it there, I want you to show them the sword and convince them that it is artificed, and that it holds the power to destroy the spring entirely. That might make them pause. Hopefully, they won’t make it that far.”

  “Tomlin will do so.”

  “Then let’s get busy, my friends.”

  CHAPTER 25

  It was five minutes when that messages appeared in the air in front of me.

  Maginhart is now a level 20 [Miner]

  Unnamed Kobold 1 is now a level 16 [Miner]

  Unnamed Kobold 2 is now a level 19 [Miner]

  Unnamed Kobold 3 is now a level 15 [Miner]

  Ah, they must have eaten the red essence. As welcome and impressive as it was to see their mining levels increase so much, it bothered me that there were still kobolds in my dungeon who didn’t have names.

  It didn’t seem right. Some of them might die today. No, some would certainly die. I wouldn’t let them meet their end without a name.

  Let’s see. The Soul Bard’s other names. Ah, yes.

  Unnamed Kobold 1 is now named Dylan

  Unnamed Kobold 2 is now named Karson

  Unnamed Kobold 3 is now named Tarius

  Now that was done, there was only one more thing a dungeon co
re could do at a time like this; create monsters, puzzles, and traps.

  With Shadow having used her scout skills to sense the Seekers approaching the northern surface door, and with the Wrotun sure to attack soon, I didn’t have much time. And time is an ally to a dungeon core.

  The absence of it meant that once I used all my essence, I wouldn’t have the luxury of waiting for it to regenerate. I had to be economical about this.

  So, I had 450 essence points to spend. What would give me the maximum carnage for the lowest cost?

  After thinking about it, my first action was to visit the room near the surface door. I hopped to the pedestal point there, and I faced the riddle door. The kobold-language riddle was still in effect, and I was confident the Seekers wouldn’t guess it, since none of the last party had made it out of here alive.

  Here was the thing. The riddle door presented an obstacle, and once a seeker solved it, they would feel a sense of relief.

  Therefore, the best place to put a hidden pitfall was right behind it.

  At a cost of 100 essence points, I created a thirty-feet deep pitfall directly behind the door.

  Next, I had a couple of Brecht’s kobolds fetch a little surprise that I had been saving. Well, surprises, I guess. There was more than one.

  See, when I had deconstructed the goblin party, I hadn’t used all their bodies. No, I had ordered Brecht to sever their heads. And now, I had him place these heads all around the room, so that the seekers would see them when they entered the dungeon. It might not affect their more seasoned warriors, but it would scare the crap out of their rookies.

  Finally, I employed a little trap that was known around the academy as The Heroes’ Temptation. For this, I needed to be in my loot room, the largest room in the whole dungeon.

  Here, I had already crafted a loot chest, but there was nothing in it. I now crafted a Trick Lever puzzle right next to it. This was just three long levers set into the ground.

  Normally, pulling the right lever would open a door or something like that, and using the wrong lever would summon a demon or some bloodthirsty dungeon creature.