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

by Alex Oakchest

  Bolton squeezed Anna’s shoulder. “Not now, Anna.”

  “They’re standing there, bad-mouthing me, and-”

  He squeezed harder. “Not now.”

  Shadow gave Anna a stare that made me feel cold. “Riston tried to control me,” said Shadow. “Just like the witch. They were fighting with weapons I had no defense against. I realize that now. The actions my physical body performed while they controlled my mind, are not the same as if I had done them. I can’t hide from violence, Beno. It will still find me. But at least I can choose when to use it, and I can choose to use it to help my friends in the dungeon.”

  “Good. We’ll use the orb, get by the guards. I’ll keep Riston talking. These bad guys types, they like to waffle on when they see their enemies. Trust me; I do it too. I really ought to cut it out. It’s a bad habit. Anyway, while me and Riston are yapping, you two will sneak up on him and kill him. Stab him, slit his throat, cut his head off. I don’t care. Just do it quickly, and make sure he’s dead. If you have a few spare seconds to dance over his corpse, great.”

  “And then everyone will go back to normal?” said Jahn.

  “Nope. Riston’s spells won’t stop just because he’s dead. It just means he won’t be pumping mana into them. When he cops it, we’ll have to get out of town for a while. Let the spells wear off naturally, and then it’ll be done.”

  The orb worked just as it should. On Maginhart’s instructions, Eric threw it at the wall nearest the guards. It smashed, releasing waves of white light. Within seconds, the spell glaze had left the guard’s eyes. They looked around, confused.

  “Core?” one of them said. “Wha-”

  “No time to chat,” I said.

  I floated beyond them and into Yondersun. Eric and Shadow followed, but they split off in different directions. Their job was to sneak through the alleyways behind Jahn’s Row. When we found Riston, they’d attack.

  Heading along Jahn’s Row, I couldn’t help but think how different the town felt, even after less than a week of being away. Nobody was shopping. No traders were bellowing from their doorsteps, boasting about how their prices couldn’t be beaten. Riston’s spell wasn’t doing the Yondersun economy any favors.

  In one part of the street, someone had painted a circle of runes on the ground. There were bloodstains. Not many, but enough to see that something really damned strange had been going on in my absence.

  I wondered where Reginal was. Galatee, too. They were both under Riston’s sway, but had he done something else with them? After all, he wanted control of the town. It would help him if the chief and her husband were gone.

  Gods, I wanted to tear his spleen out.

  When I reached the center of the street, a figure stepped out from the doors of the Scorched Scorpion. Tall, with swept-back hair and a beard that, surprisingly, had lost some of its perfection. Riston had let his stubble grow out, and he had bags around his eyes.

  I wondered if keeping up his spell for so long was tiring. Or if he was wondering where the wraiths were. Or maybe he’d decided that such a well-groomed beard was too much upkeep.

  Nah, it was probably the spell thing. Riston had been busy lately, and things couldn’t have been going to plan. After all, the 50 nights were here. I didn’t know how he’d made it happen, but he’d have been expecting his wraiths to come. When they didn’t, he must have started to worry.

  “Nice to see you again,” I said. “You look different from when we last met. Much less bug-like. It’s not much of an improvement.”

  “Enjoy your jokes while you can. This night might be your last. This, or the others that follow.”

  “Right. Because of the wraiths. We passed them on the way here.”

  I knew I’d played into a fear that had been growing inside Riston’s head. He didn’t know why the wraiths weren’t here yet. I just needed to keep him distracted. Not for much longer now. Just enough time for Eric and Shadow to make their way around Jahn’s Row.

  “Ray sends his regards, by the way,” I said.

  “Ray?”

  “Wait. He said only his friends call him Ray. Does that mean you aren’t a friend? You go to all the trouble of being his Awakener, of messing around in town for him, trying to get things ready for when he was strong enough to come out. And he doesn’t even consider you as a friend. You didn’t think any of us would leave the dungeon alive, did you? Even after we dealt with your insects. You thought Ray would finish us off.”

  “You met Wreithintzo?”

  “Met him, said hello, killed him.”

  “Impossible! He’s an ancient one! You’re just a lump of rock.”

  “Ray doesn’t look much better than me these days. If you go to his dungeon with a broom, maybe you can sweep him up into a nice big pile.”

  I looked around now. What was taking Eric and Shadow so long?

  Riston took a step forward.

  “You are nothing,” he said. “A pale imitation of a core. Just a man who was weak enough to get killed, and got forged into a core. Your immortality doesn’t suit you, Beno. The fit isn’t right. Dress a cow in a suit of armor, but it’s still a cow.”

  “I don’t think people do that to cows, Riston. Are you feeling yourself?”

  A guard approached now. I recognized him. Bluenose. He liked to drink in the Scorched Scorpion and had a grudge against Gulliver for always beating him at cards.

  “We found a kobold and a barbarian sneaking through town,” said Bluenose.

  This wasn’t good.

  “Interesting. Where are they?”

  “Tied ‘em up. Put ‘em in Chopson’s butcher shop.”

  “Good. I’ll visit them later, after I’ve finished with my current engagement.”

  “Aye, I saw the core, Riston, sir. Remembered what you’d told me if he ever came to town. Brought this for you. Just like you always told us to, if the core came back.”

  Bluenose handed Riston a sword.

  Oh, hells.

  It couldn’t have just been a normal sword, could it? I don’t mind those! They can’t hurt me!

  Riston was holding a sword with a corespite blade. Bolton’s dagger had been enough to kill an already weakened core, but such a dagger would have been too small to kill a fairly healthy core like me.

  But this horrible weapon?

  If I was a man, I guessed my bladder would be feeling a little weak right now.

  Eric and Shadow were captured. We’d left everyone else outside of town so we could do this quietly. After all, we hadn’t wanted to start a mass fight and risk townsfolk getting murdered.

  I was alone, and Riston had a bloody big corespite sword.

  He ran at me now. He was quicker than he looked. I floated to the side, but not fast enough.

  His sword cleaved through me.

  10% core purity lost!

  New core purity: 61%

  The blow sent me reeling

  Demons arses, the pain! Damn Riston to the hottest fires of the underworlds!

  The agony was searing. White light covered my vision as if I’d been struck by lightning. I felt myself crash into something, but I barely registered what it was.

  I heard people talking. The townsfolk, maybe. Maybe someone else. I didn’t know. The voices seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. All I could think about was the pain.

  A corespite sword. One of the few things that could destroy a core.

  My purity was down to 61. The lower it got, the weaker I’d be. When it reached the 10s, I’d look like Ray. Parts of me missing. The other parts cracked.

  Close to my second death.

  I’d come to Yondersun with my friends. My monsters.

  I’d entered the gates with Shadow and Eric.

  But now I was alone.

  I didn’t have any essence left. And if I did, I couldn’t use it on the surface.

  The plan had been stupid. Sure, the orb part had worked. It got us by the guards and into town. But then Riston had been ready for everything else.


  He’d outthought me. A man had outmaneuvered a core.

  My vision began to return to me.

  Just in time to see Riston feet away. Getting closer.

  He swung the sword.

  I rolled to the side. The blade smashed into the decking of a lodge behind me. Wood splintered into the air.

  “You can join the ancient ones, Beno. You aren’t a pure core, but they would accept you as a servant. They’ll accept you more than the humans ever would.”

  He waited for me to answer.

  I looked around, desperately searching for something that would help. Anything.

  There was nothing.

  “Well?”

  Join the ancient ones. Assuming he was telling the truth, it would save me, sure. Maybe he was right. I was a man once, but I wasn’t anymore. I would never find true acceptance as a core.

  But the ancient cores wouldn’t accept me, either. Ray’s snooty attitude had told me that. He saw me as lesser.

  That was the truth of it, I finally realized. I wasn’t one thing or the other. Not human, and not a real core, either. That made me weaker than both sides.

  Or did it?

  Maybe it could make me stronger. I could think like a core and a human. Use my core essence powers but keep my humanity. Keep my emotions.

  Maybe it wasn’t about whether the humans or the ancient cores would accept me. It was about asking myself who I accepted. Which side did I want to be on?

  “Shove your sword up your arse,” I said.

  “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

  He swung the blade. It missed me by inches. Wedged into the support beam of the lodge’s outer pavilion.

  I still didn’t have anything to use against him.

  Riston was above me now. He held the sword high.

  And then a gust of wind knocked him off his feet and sent him sprawling onto the ground.

  “Evening!” said Anna. “Or is it morning? You’ve made it hard to tell, mage-guy. I don’t know if I should be sleeping or waking up!”

  She ran into the middle of Jahn’s row. Utta trailed after her, his face red. He must have used his powers. Sucked the faint breeze from the air and concentrated it into a single force, using it on Riston.

  Riston looked at the town guards lining the street. None of them moved.

  He held up his hands, palms out. “Well? Do I really have to make it so obvious? Kill them both!”

  Town guards drew their swords.

  Anna closed her eyes. Her temple vein throbbed.

  She was using her mind-sheets or whatever she called them. Battling inside the guards’ minds, trying to force Riston’s control out.

  The guards dropped their swords.

  Twenty more guards advanced. They held up wooden bows. Nocked arrows and pulled the strings tight. Anna, looking more tired by the minute, closed her eyes again.

  Her cheeks reddened. She clenched her fists.

  “I can’t do it…he’s stronger than me!” she said. “I can’t do it, Utta!”

  She suddenly stumbled back. Her eyes shot open.

  The guards released their arrows.

  There were screams of pain.

  And then Riston, laughing.

  Utta and Anna had been standing together. Now, only Anna was on her feet. Utta was lying on his back. He had arrows in his gut, his thighs, his shoulder. Blood poured from half a dozen wounds.

  But Anna was fine. Twenty arrows had been fired at them both at close range, and she was fine.

  “Well? What are you waiting for, a sign from the gods?” said Riston. “Did I tell you to take a break?”

  I stared at him. At this mage. At this awakener. At this man.

  Yes, just a man. A mortal made of flesh and soft organs.

  Maybe I had been a man once, but I was a core now. I had to think like a core. A core made from hard, sharp, gemstone.

  I soared across Jahn’s Row as fast as I could. Riston backed away. He tried to step to the side, but he was too slow.

  I aimed my sharp edges at him, the parts of my core that were damaged after his sword broke some of me away. The edges stabbed straight through Riston’s neck, cut through his throat, and pierced through the other side.

  He screamed as he wildly pounded his fists on me like I was a tiger with my jaws closed upon him. His blood coated me with every hit.

  He fell on the ground, gasping, blood pouring from him. I rose directly above him.

  “You have a choi-” he wheezed.

  I ignored him.

  I flew down at him, stabbing him through the heart.

  It was then that everyone else rushed into town. Maginhart, Cynthia, Bolton, Tomlin, Wylie. They tried to keep the guards back. The townsfolk were still under Riston’s spell and would be for a while. They were still dangerous.

  “Cynthia!” I said. “Help the boy.”

  Anna was next to Utta, holding his hand tight. Kissing it again and again. Sobbing. Her face was smeared with blood, but not hers.

  “Don’t die, you selfish ass!”

  Utta ground. “Look at me, Anna. I’m already…already gone.”

  “Go and wake the old core up! It might not be dead! Tell it to turn Utta into a wraith. Just keep him alive, and then we’ll find a cure for wraiths!”

  “The core is dead,” said Bolton, softly.

  “And I…I don’t want to be…a wraith,” said Utta, coughing.

  “Then take him to the academy, Bolton! They resurrect people there. You told me that.”

  Bolton kneeled beside her. He put his hand on her shoulder. “They resurrect souls, Anna. It is very different, and the academy is far away. Souls do not stay in our world for long when it is time to depart.”

  “So? Turn him into a core! He’d still be Utta, even if he didn’t look like it! He’d still be…he’d still be…”

  She collapsed now. She completely lost herself to tears.

  Utta gripped her hand tighter. “Don’t cry, Anna.”

  “Don’t die. Don’t leave me alone.”

  “You…wouldn’t be…alone.”

  “I would! You’re all I have. I’m nothing without you. Just a stupid…I don’t even have as good a singing voice as I always say I do.”

  Utta managed a grin through blood-stained lips. “You’re a Chosen One, Anna.”

  “So are you!”

  Utta groaned in pain. He did his best to hold it back. “I’m…not. They fired…arrows…straight at both…of us. Look at me! None of them hit you. Not a single arrow. Only a Chosen…One defies the odds like…that.”

  “We both left the school at the same time. Neither of us are chosen.”

  “School? Who cares about…about…that? Don’t waste your life, Anna. You owe it to yourself.”

  “I don’t owe myself anything. I owe you.”

  “You always hung around with me at the…school. You knew that not all Chosen Ones actually become what they were chosen…to be. You knew I was one of them. That maybe…I had a chance of a destiny, once, but I’d never be one of those rare few who seize it. Being my friend made you feel…safe. Like you couldn’t fail at being a Chosen One, because as long as you hung around with me, you didn’t have to try.”

  “I love you, Utta.”

  “I love you too.”

  Anna said nothing. Just sobbed as Utta slipped away.

  I looked at the mess around me.

  Riston was dead, his blood stained all over my broken core. Utta was gone. The townsfolk and town guards were still under Riston’s spell, looking furious about what I’d done to him.

  “We need to find Shadow and Eric and then go somewhere to wait this out until Riston’s spell wears off,” I said. “Has anyone seen them?”

  “They’re over there, by the alleyway,” said Bolton.

  “Then we better lie low.”

  “I won’t leave him!” said Anna.

  Bolton hugged her. “Love, he’s dead. Come on.”

  “He can’t be. He was chose
n.”

  “Not everyone stays chosen,” said Bolton.

  “Then why did I? I don’t deserve it! I’m horrible. Utta, he was…he was…”

  “You’ll just have to make sure you do deserve it. Do it for him,” said Bolton.

  CHAPTER 25

  I was in my dungeon’s core chamber when Wylie knocked on the door. It was hard to hear him at first, with all the racket going on throughout the dungeon. Monsters were packing up weapons. Hauling trinkets and ornaments out of the lair. Dissembling any traps untouched by Riston, and taking them outside, ready for transport.

  The loot room was filled with boxes stuffed to the brim with dungeon fixtures. Kobolds were stripping out tripwires, covering spike pits, prying up puzzles tiles. Some of them looked excited, some of them sad. I was felt somewhere in the middle. Mostly wedging on sad. This had been a home to me. Not for long, maybe a year, but a home. My second dungeon, technically, but the first that I’d made my own.

  I would have helped with the physical labor, of course, but I didn’t have hands. My abilities were best suited in a more supervisory manner. Gulliver said I was being lazy, but this was something different.

  Wylie knocked again.

  “Come in!”

  “Visitors in dungeon, Dark Lord!”

  “Heroes?”

  “Big, fat men with purses. Jangle when they walk.”

  “Traders, then. What the hell do they want?” I asked.

  Wylie looked at me as if it was the strangest thing in the world to ask a visitor what they wanted. “Don’t know.”

  “Let them in.”

  I met the traders in the loot chamber. Things were different since the last time they’d been here. The dining table was gone. I’d taken down most of the nice mana lamps. There was no music. No food. I also didn’t give a damn whether I was impressing the traders or not.

  The main difference was the traders themselves. Gone was their finery. Their expensive clothes, their jewels. They were wearing simple, practical clothes suited for a dungeon. They didn’t seem so snooty, either. One of them even smiled at me.

  Baby was the one to speak for them. “I hope you’re not going somewhere, Mr. Core?”

  “Not far, but I’ll be leaving Yondersun.”