Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series)
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“I choose the dragon, obviously.”
Some of the crowd cheered. Way behind me, towards our portdoor, I heard Wylie jabbering excitedly. The Eastern Spire lackeys, who were busy trying to escort the dragon from the arena, threw their hands up in frustration and stomped away.
I eyed my new dragon. Right now, it was injured from the beating Razensen and Kainhelm had given it. Not to worry, I could fix it up. When I did, I would use it much cleverly than the Academy of the Eastern Spire.
Yes, this went some way towards balancing things out between me and the other academies. I might not have had the resources or the prestige that they enjoyed… but I had a dragon!
Creature added to dungeon:
Durik
Race: Dragon
Level: 12
The announcer prattled on about various tournament bureaucracy and housekeeping. I tuned him out until he reached the end of his speech, and then I made sure to pay attention.
What happened next would be important.
After the last fight, the announcer told me that rules were created and changed after rounds to make the later rounds seem more exciting. I wondered what would happen this time.
“Henceforth in the Battle of the Five Stars,” he said. “cores will be able to use traps.”
Interesting. Very interesting. Traps were one of my strengths, and this would change the way I fought. I would need to give this a lot of consideration.
“As well as that, a core’s monsters can no longer heal between rounds.”
What??
The audience whispered to each other. To them, changes like this only added to the entertainment. They raised the stakes, made the core’s jobs harder. To me, it brought difficulties. It meant I would have to be very careful who I sent into battle. Or more specifically, when I sent them into battle.
Creatures like Razensen and Kainhelm were the strongest in my dungeon. But if I used them in the next fight, and they got injured badly, it would more than likely mean I couldn’t use them again in the competition.
But the harshest thing about it was the timing. I had just added a dragon to my dungeon, for demons’ sake. And now, I had learned that I wouldn’t be able to heal him for the rest of the tournament.
In effect, that meant I had a dragon that I couldn’t use in the Battle of the Five Stars. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Anyone who earns possession of a dragon is very fortunate indeed. But I had wanted to play with my new toy straight away.
Was there a way around it, at all? It was something to think about, but right now I had other things to do. After all, I had won round three. It was time to get my rewards.
First, I checked my core for the usual list of level-ups. I had leveled up to 31, which was a level I hadn’t even dreamed of reaching back in the academy. Many cores were defeated by heroes and smashed into core dust before they even reached level 10. That in itself was something to be proud of.
As with each fight, I was given a choice of Revered Trinkets. The magical items were becoming more valuable each round, and this time I was presented with three exceptional choices.
But unlike before, I knew what I needed the instant I saw it.
Core Belt of Core Quality
A metal belt that can be clasped around a dungeon core. Will slowly convert essence into core quality. However, essence will take longer to replenish when the belt is worn.
I looked around for Overseer Gill to ask him about this, but he was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t surprised. He had a habit of disappearing after fights, often appearing in one of the many taverns dotted all around God’s Fist. So instead, I floated over to Overseer Bolton, who looked extremely regal in his overseer robes. I even saw a hint of a smile playing on his face as he looked around the arena and saw all the spectators supporting our academy.
“Well done, Beno,” he said.
“The glory belongs to Razensen and Kainhelm. The dragon was no match for them.”
“But it is you who had the notion to ask them to come here. Nobody else had the idea, and nor would Razensen have responded to anyone else’s summons. It is rare that a core bonds with a bogan, such as they are. It was your decision to get them to fight, and it proved to be the right one. There was a reason I took such an interest in you in the academy, Beno. It doesn’t matter what any new test says. A core’s quality is only one measure of his skills. Insight and wit also count.”
I was strangely taken aback by that. “Thank you, Bolton. I wanted to ask you something about the test, actually. Is it possible for a core’s core quality to change, or is it fixed?”
“Is it etched in stone, you mean?”
“I suppose so,” I said.
“Beno, little in this world is permanent. What is etched in stone can be worn away with time. With the current of a river brushing against it. With thousands of years’ worth of storms raging upon its surface. Even the very mountains themselves aren’t here for time immeasurable. Do you think God’s Fist always looked like this? If such things are vulnerable to change, then why should a thing as small as a person’s core be any different?”
“Then even if my core is the lowest it can be right now, that doesn’t stop me from improving it.”
“The thing that a person wants to improve is never what stops them from actually doing it. It is only their own determination that prevents them from reaching new heights. The boy who trains his muscles for nine weeks and sees little improvement and gives up. Even though week 10 or 11 might be his breakthrough. The girl who practices with the sword and doesn’t reach competency, and so stops when competency is just a fingertip away.”
After speaking with Bolton, I made my choice and received a third trinket.
Revered Trinket received:
Core Belt of Core Quality
By now, the rest of my friends were in the dungeon, and the Academy of the Eastern Spire was long gone. The sky was darkening above God’s Fist. There was one more fight in this arena today, and some of the crowd were staying for it, while others were heading to different arenas to watch different academies in battle.
Just as I was leaving, I heard a voice calling my name. When I looked around, I saw a man sitting in an oak chair in the audience. He was wearing overseer robes and had a smug look on his face.
“Tarnbuckle? What do you want?” I said.
“You’ve got further than I expected, with this joke of an academy of yours. I suppose even a sheep might look like a wolf from a distance if you drape a pelt over it.”
“I’m touched that you came to see me fight,” I said. “I didn’t know you’re a fan.”
“You might think I use my words as a lens, like a child directing sunlight at a beetle to watch it burn. There is no malice in my words. I am simply realistic, Core Beno. Gone are the days where forgers and overseers employed guesswork in our craft. Gone are the days were cores with cores like yours were forged. You are a relic, unfortunately. It isn’t your fault. Simply the way of the empire. Progress. When you stand in its way, you are like a stone clogging a well and preventing the rest of us from drinking.”
“I never asked to be forged, Overseer. If a mistake was made, your hand was involved in it. And when you watch me advance in the tournament, you will have to reflect on that.”
Tarnbuckle stood up. “Something tells me that our academies may meet before long. Who knows? Perhaps even in the Saucer of the Gods itself. Miracles can - and do - happen. Why not do me a favor, Beno, and try and drag your belly over the line? We would relish facing you in the final.”
“The meal might not taste so sweet once it’s actually served to you.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I imagine it will be just as good as I expect. Here’s to the quarter-final, then. I may even attend and watch you and your monsters get pounded into the dust. I could use a diversion.”
Chapter 23
I was in the alchemy chamber with Maginhart when I found out who we would fight in the quarter-finals of the tournament. The room was a s
mall grotto with shelves lining every wall, crammed with bottles and jars containing liquids, spices, and assorted dried animal parts. Dominating the center of the room was a scorched workbench, upon which rested Maginhart’s dozens of books and his burner and experiments.
A voice echoed through my dungeon.
“Tournament announcement: the combatants for the quarter-finals of the Battle of the Five Stars have been drawn. The fixtures are as follows…”
The announcer listed the other six academies, by which point I had guessed who that meant we would face.
“The Dungeon Core Academy,” I said. “Well, well. Looks like Tarnbuckle and I will meet sooner than we thought.”
“The Dark Lord will dessstroy him,” said Maginhart, his lizard tongue rasping against his lips.
Maginhart was a wolf–lizard creature like the rest of my kobolds. But while the others had all inherited a wolfish appearance, Maginhart’s face looked more like his lizard side, with his shining scales and a forked tongue that stuck out of his lips.
I hadn’t expected much when I created Maginhart. He was supposed to be a kobold miner, overseen by Wylie. He’d surprised me with his intelligence and keenness to learn. Combined with a love of alchemy he’d gained while studying under Cynthia, it meant he was an impressive monster.
“From this round onwards, we won’t be able to heal between battles,” I said. “I need you to find an alchemic way around this.”
“Yesss, Dark Lord,” he said. “But what did you have in mind?”
“Something that does a similar job to healing, without beginning the healing process. Perhaps a potion that could be applied to a wound and form a protective barrier around it? Something that would shield it from further damage, and perhaps limit the effects of any wounds to the small area of the body, leaving the rest of the body untouched?”
Maginhart drummed his lizard fingers on the workbench. “Leave it with me, Dark Lord, I will endeavor to find sssomething.”
Overseer Gill walked into the alchemy chamber, wearing a robe opened in the middle. “Beno? Join me. I'd like to show you something.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll find out sooner if you stop asking questions.”
Following Gill, I headed to the Garuvia arena, which I hadn’t visited or fought in yet. Although there were no fights scheduled today, one academy had taken up residence in the middle of the arena. I studied the emblem painted on the overseers’ robes. It was an obelisk with strange runes painted on it.
“The Academy of the Infernal Obelisk,” I said.
“You’re lucky you were not drawn against them, Beno.”
“I have to fight the Dungeon Core Academy. I don’t fancy my chances any more with them than with the Infernal Obelisk.”
“Then you clearly haven’t been paying attention. Didn’t the Infernal Obelisk’s last fight teach you how feared they should be? And what about their first-round battle? They made absolute fools of the Academy of the Howling Wolf.”
“I haven’t seen them fight yet.”
Gill sighed. “Bolton told me how studious you are. Is he a liar? They let us watch other cores while they train. They allow any core a special seat to spectate other core's matches. All these opportunities to learn, and you haven’t studied your potential opponents?”
Now, I felt a little embarrassed. I thought I had prepared as well as I could, but evidently, I was wrong. “I was concentrating on my own plans. My own strategy. The longer I spent watching other cores, the less time I had to prepare my dungeon.”
Gill’s belly face formed a glare. “Beno, what do you think watching other cores is about, if it is not preparation? How do you expect to grow stronger if you do not watch your enemies? I have not brought you here to show you how much stronger this core is than you. How easily it would tear you to pieces if you were to fight it. I have brought you here to show you what you can learn. The skills you could have if you are ready to apply yourself.”
This got my attention. If this core had skills I could learn, then I was more than eager. I watched the arena, where the Infernal Obelisk core was moving into position.
The main core of the Academy of the Infernal Obelisk was named Mokrus. He was much taller than most cores, with a long, rectangular body that was rounded at the top. Etched into his gemstone was a series of lines and symbols, perhaps a dozen in total.
Across from him was a core at the same shape, but was much smaller and had fewer symbols. On the command of an overseer, this core used essence and conjured a kobold shaman into the arena. The shaman looked around, before raising his bone staff high and squeaking in his kobold voice.
On the other side of the arena, Mokrus used some essence of his own, soon conjuring an obelisk that stood six feet tall. It looked like it was made from stone in parts, and flesh in others. It had no face, no limbs. And yet, it seemed to pulsate as if it were breathing.
“This is the important part,” said Gill. “Pay attention.”
The shaman planted a totem into the sand and chanted shamanic words in its direction. The little bone stick glowed red.
“A simple fire spell. Watch how Mokrus responds,” said Gill.
One of the symbols lit up on Mokrus’ body. It was a blue raindrop. Essence traveled from him and to the obelisk he had created. A corresponding symbol lit up on the fleshy shape.
The kobold yelled and waved his bone staff. A fireball blasted from the totem, roaring through the air and leaving a black scorch mark on the arena ground.
From the obelisk came strange blue energy, starting a few feet above it and falling to the ground like raindrops, forming a curtain around the obelisk.
The fireball smashed into it and fizzled out. Barely a few sparks reached the obelisk itself.
“Did you see what Mokrus did then?” asked Gill.
I thought about it, finding myself strangely eager to give Gill the right answer. “He commanded the obelisk to use a water attack to nullify the fire totem.”
Gill nodded. “We are staring out of the same window, yet you insist on describing what I can see just as well as you. Let’s go deeper. When did he decide to use a water attack?”
“When he saw the shaman, he must have realized that fire is the most common shaman attack. So he summoned a water obelisk.”
“Almost correct…yet completely wrong. Keep watching.”
While the shaman’s totem recharged, I saw the air shimmer around Mokrus, indicating he was about to use essence again. The blue raindrop on his core dimmed, and a purple symbol lit up instead.
Three projectile arrows. What did that mean? A mana based attack, perhaps?
A corresponding symbol appeared on the obelisk. Giving the shaman no time to react, three purple mana arrows shot from it.
They homed in on the kobold across the arena, quickly tearing through him like water through tissue. He lay dead on the arena floor, smoke rising from his body.
It took me a moment to process what I’d just seen.
“What element did Mokrus just use?” asked Gill.
“Something mana based.”
“Precision, Beno, please. If you were shooting an apple from a child’s head, would you aim roughly where you think the apple is, or would you be crystal clear in what you target?”
“I wouldn’t waste my time shooting apples off children’s heads in the first place. No idea why archers insist on doing that. Rather like how knife throwers always have to tie their assistants to a spinning wheel. Why?”
“If you aren’t going to take this seriously, then I won’t waste my time. I can just as well pretend to be an overseer and spend my day drinking beer. You will have to pay me all the same.”
“You’re right. I am sorry, Overseer Gill.”
“Then focus.”
I thought about what I had seen. The purple arrows could only have come from one discipline of mana.
“Mokrus used the arcane element.”
“Correct. And before that?”
&n
bsp; “He used a water element to deal with the shaman’s fire.”
“Two elements from his obelisk. Can you create a monster who uses two elements, Beno?”
I wracked my brains for a monster that combined two elements. There weren’t many, and there was a good reason for that. Some elements cancel each other out. Try and give an ice yeti the fire element, and he’d melt himself into a puddle. Other elements simply became weaker when you tried to combine them.
But I didn’t want to tell Gill that I simply couldn’t make a monster with two elements. It would be like admitting defeat.
“A shaman can use two elements,” I said. “Rusty, my kobold shaman, has a fire totem and a healing totem.”
“Ah, but he can only use one at once, can he not?”
“Three, actually. A perk of leveling up.”
“A clever workaround, I suppose. But limited. A shaman is weak to physical attacks and is also constricted by the cooldown time of their totems. Besides which, you are edging on the boundaries of my question. A shaman in himself is not an elemental creature. Rather, the bones he uses for totems are mana-attuned and derived from an elemental creature. In short, Beno, don’t try and be so clever.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.”
“Before the obelisk had used its water shield, none of the runes on its surface were lit. They only did so…”
“After Mokrus’ core etching slit up,” I said, eager to blurt out an answer.
“More precisely,” said Gill, “After Mokrus channeled essence to the obelisk.”
“There’s always something extra, with you. Always some last part of the answer that I miss. I’m sure you do it on purpose.”
“You’re right. I do. Because if you are going to scale the mountain of greatness, you cannot afford to miss a single foothold. Think of me as a fire surging up the mountain, always driving you to climb higher and higher to escape me and reach the peak. Now, think about what it means for Mokrus to send his essence into the obelisk to deal with whatever threat he faces.”