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

“Tomlin will find himself tied to a pole and used as hero bait in the next raid if he isn’t careful.”

He sighed. “Yes, Dark Magnificence?”

“Overseer Bolton is heading your way-”

“Oh? Great!”

“I need you to stall him. Keep him talking, and for Demons’ sake, don’t make it seem suspicious.”

“Tomlin would point out that Overseer Bolton talks to Tomlin every time he visits and talks always last a while. If you hadn’t told him to make sure it isn’t suspicious, he would have acted natural. But now you have told him to not be suspicious, he feels nervous that his demeanor will come across suspiciously.”

“Good point,” I said. “My mistake. Okay, Tomlin. Pretend I haven’t said a word to you.”

While Tomlin and Bolton had a chinwag, I would have a little time to come up with a way to divert the overseer away from the narkleer-hole part of the dungeon. But I had to be quick.

Checking my map, I saw that Wylie and his mining crew were in the loot room, standing ten feet away from the open loot chest in the center and throwing pebbles into it.

I pedestal hopped into the loot room. Wylie yelled at my sudden appearance, while Tarius and Karson bolted to their feet and looked up at the ceiling.

“Yes,” said Karson. “Structurally unsound here, Tomlin. We will need to reinforce it.”

I sighed. “I don’t have time for even the slightest rebuke for skiving on the job right now,” I said, “But rest assured it is coming to you. Now, I need you to do something for me.”

Wylie sauntered over to the loot chest and all-too-casually closed it. “What need?” he said.

“How fast can you mine a new room? Nothing big; about the size of a posh lady’s shoe cupboard.”

Karson whispered to Wylie.

Wylie paced around, stroking his chin. “Hmm. Not big job, but sometimes small jobs are hardest. Might take while, Dark Lord. Can be sped up but cost more.”

I was incredulous. “What are you now, a contractor looking for a way to wheedle money out of me? I need it done in the next twenty minutes. Wylie, if Karson and Tarius drag their feet or whisper more useless advice to you, use the tongue-lashing ability you earned when you leveled up as supervisor. And if the room isn’t built before Bolton and Tomlin stop gabbing, I’ll give you a lashing of my own. And not with my tongue.”

“Somebody’s in a bad mood.”

“I’m sorry if I come across as tetchy,” I said. “I don’t mean it. I’m just under quite a lot of strain. Now if you three could just get this done, I would appreciate it greatly.”

The miners set out to the north-east part of the dungeon, where they would mine the new room for me. I pulled up my map to check on Bolton.

Phew. He was still talking to Tomlin.

Now, I just needed the most important part of my plan.

*

Overseer Bolton left Tomlin after discussing the finer points of seasonal essence growth, and whether essence vines were in fact affected by the seasons, and whether the word seasons really meant anything in a wasteland where the sun beat down on it as relentlessly as the king's guards beat the poor saps in their jail cells.

Talking with Tomlin, the only kobold he had come to regard as a friend, left him in a pleasant mood, but he shook it off and donned a mask of suspicion. Not a literal mask, but more a mindset of eyeing every inch of the dungeon and looking for the slightest hint of secrecy. Cores were as crafty as they came, so it was no surprise that the clans had sought an academy overseer to make sure theirs didn’t pull any tricks.

Heading north, Bolton detected the whiff of illusion. That should have been expected, in a dungeon, but his gut told him to follow this particular stench.

He continued northwards through the lair, using his overseer map skill to navigate the mess of passageways and tunnels in the center of the dungeon. Threading his way safely through them, stopping to take note of the new poison chamber Beno had installed, Bolton took a tunnel that spiraled north-east.

The smell is getting stronger.

It was heavy in his nostrils and strong on his tongue. The hint of secrecy wafted in the air.

Yep, there was something around here that Beno was hiding. Something he wanted to keep secret not just from heroes but from everyone else.

“I’ll unravel your secrets, Beno, you trickster scamp.”

Bolton used his overseer senses, and like turning a bath tap, he allowed more mana to flow. Now, as well as tasting and smelling the secret, he could see it. A trace of it, at least. It hung in the tunnels like a fog, colored the color of secrecy, a color that hung around most people most days, but they lacked the intuition to see it.

He walked and followed and tried to decide how much he’d tell Galatee and Reginal. It depended on the severity of the secret, he supposed.

If Beno was tricking his owners, finding a loophole in the contract, he should be punished.

But as an ex-academy student, Bolton didn’t want to see one of his old cores disciplined too harshly. He’d have to find a balance. This all depended on what he was hiding.

Finally, the smell and taste and secrecy-colored fog were strongest by one part of a tunnel wall in the north-eastern reaches of the dungeon. It was nondescript; a wall just like the rest, made of dull brown mud and greyish stone.

Channeling mana into his fingertip, Bolton rubbed the stone until he found the edges of something. Straight lines that he followed using his finger, the mana gradually unmasking an illusion.

Soon, he had uncovered a door hidden on the tunnel wall. It