Dungeon Core Academy: Books 1-7 (A LitRPG Series) by Alex Oakchest (book suggestions txt) 📕

this place. Bloodshed is a lot easier to plan than crops, and maybe Reginal would have to admit that he was the right goblin to win this place back, but the crown of peacetime didn’t fit his misshapen, scarred head.

But then what else would he have?

“Give me a moment, Beall. I will think on this and come and find you.”

Beall walked away, leaving Reginal and his son alone.

“You know the quadrants, Pa. We practiced memorizing them.”

“When you reach my age, Devry, you’ll start to realize that the world never stops to let you catch up. It doesn’t take you getting older into account. It doesn’t care if you’re sick, sad, tired. The world is as unsympathetic as a tavern owner who just let you drain his barrels dry only to find out your purse is full of moths.”

Devry reached to a bag strapped around his chair. He rustled through dozens of rolled up papers, before settling on the right one. He spread this out on his lap, showing a map of the wasteland he had drawn, with the land divided into sections.

“It’s a simple system, Pa,” he said. “I designed it so anyone could use the map and know where stuff needs to go. 5X is here, see, and…”

His son talked on and on. Reginal should have listened to his words, but all he could think about was how proud he was of him, and how for all the gold in Xynnar he couldn’t explain where Devry’s brains had come from. His glorious noggin came with the price of a weak body that needed an alchemically treated orb to suck the sickness out of him, but nothing came for free.

“Chief Reginal! Chief Reginal!” cried Beall, sprinting back toward them.

Panic was written across his face, stretching out his skin and making his eyes look wide and wet.

“You’ve delivered me enough problems today, Beall. What’s wrong? It can’t be that bad. Come on now, your face looks like a slapped arse.”

“Visitors,” said Beall. “Four men and a woman. Tough looking buggers. They’re messing around near the entrance to one of the dungeons, stooping around like pigs sniffing truffles.”

“Which dungeon? Jahn’s or Beno’s?”

“The grumpy one.”

“Beno, then. Okay, we’ll need to get some of our people into armor, get them swords, and…”

“Not advisable,” said a voice.

Overseer Bolton had joined them, sneaking up on them in that way of his. The sunlight beamed off his bald dome, and Reginal stared at the overseer’s heavy robes and felt himself sweat. How did he walk around like that under the desert sun?

“Heroes and dungeons are part of the balance,” said Bolton, peering into the distance with his hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight.

A half-mile away, the dim figures of the intruders could be made out. Sure enough, they were scouring the area above Core Beno’s dungeon.

“Balance doesn’t mean much in a place with so much sun and so little water,” said Reginal. “It’s Lady Nature’s way of telling us things aren’t also equal. If there’s such thing as balance, then nature gave us a tightrope slicked with grease.”

“Nevertheless,” said Bolton, “You have a dungeon within your territory. Two, if we count Core Jahn, though he hasn’t satisfied the requirements for a dungeon.”

“His talents seem to lay on the surface. He’s starting to make progress, unlike Beno.”

“A curious case is our Jahn. Dimmer than a fading mana lamp, yet…”

“He’s a dud core, isn’t he?”

“If you tried to use a butter knife to chop down a tree, you would realize that though all knives are sharp and pointy, they each have their uses.”

“Fine. Jahn is good with surface things, Beno’s good at creating dungeons. Potatoes are good in a stew but taste foul if you eat them like you would an apple. Who cares? These dungeon-seekers…we didn’t invite them to our lands. Why should I let them sniff around?”

“Core Beno is making progress on his dungeon, and as such, the heroes’ guild knows of it. Once a dungeon satisfies the requirements to be labeled as such, it is impossible to prevent the guild from becoming aware. Dungeons attract heroes, and that is just the way of things. They aren’t here to bother you or your people, Reginal.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“You do not understand. Core Beno will be useful in defending your town from true invaders, yes. His dungeon creatures can also be used on the surface. But there is something else. Think about when your people and Jahn finally manage to turn this place into a true settlement. A place with taverns, armor shops, weaponsmiths, apothecaries. As beautiful as you make it, you’ll still be far away from the nearest town, which will hamper your ability to trade. Wouldn’t it be useful, then, to have a steady stream of heroes seeking you out?”

“Sounds like trouble. A bunch of warriors drinking and pissing everywhere and turning the air bluer than a goblin tavern at happy hour. And trust me, I know this because I have done all of those things.”

“Overseer Bolton means that heroes spend gold, Pa,” said Devry. Bolton smiled at the young goblin, who carried on. “Heroes drink ale and buy swords and seek out elixirs. Selling things to them would make up for not being able to trade with other towns as much.”

Bolton nodded. “When enough heroes flock to the same place, merchants are sure to follow like fleas around a donkey’s arse. Blacksmiths will seek out your land and request to trade here so that they can supply weapons to the sword-swingers. Brewers will ask if they can set up potion stalls, and soon you won’t be able to move without bumping into a trader trying to line his big, fat purse. You, as owners of the land, can insist they pay you levies and taxes.”

“A whole ecosystem based around dungeoneering…”