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

not think you can blame Dark Lord and escape from failure. All must play part! Do jobs. Pull together for good of dungeon.”

They were silent then, awkward under Wylie’s stare. Without a word, Tarius grabbed his pickaxe again and got back to work, with Jopvitz, Redjack, and Klok following. Wylie stared on, smiling, as the chamber chimed with the clanging of pickaxes.

Across the dungeon, rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack sounds came from the arena as Shadow practiced with a bow. She fired three arrows, approached the target, and grunted at her lack of success. By the looks of it, she was leaning too much to the left when she fired. She retrieved her arrows and headed back to the mark.

Thwack-thwack-thwack.

Her next three arrows peppered the outside of the target, her aim worse than before.

“Damn it,” she said.

Not even caring to check her aim this time, she snapped her fingers at one of her pups. “Get!”

The dog scampered across the arena, tail wagging, and got on its back legs and gently bit each arrow and pulled them from the target, before taking them back to Shadow.

I wasn’t much of a dog person, but this was impressive to watch. This was one of the reasons that Shadow was so valuable to me. Aside from her stealth skills and her desire to learn more – evidenced by her archery – she also had the complete loyalty of the hounds. I hadn’t created the canines, so they did not answer to me. To lose Shadow would be to lose the beasts.

One dog growled now at the tunnel leading out of the arena, and the others quickly picked up the sound. They charged toward the archway.

“Argh!” shouted a voice.

Shadow clicked her fingers. “Leave it!” she said. “It’s only Tomlin. He might behave like a chicken, but he doesn’t taste like it.”

Tomlin entered the arena carrying a dagger. He tossed it to Shadow’s feet.

“Tomlin is returning this,” he said.

“I gave that to you,” said Shadow.

“Tomlin doesn’t want it.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It’s a dagger, for demons’ sake. I gave it to you so you can protect your miserable behind. Don’t give it back just because we aren’t together.”

Tomlin produced another, bigger, dagger from a leather holder on his belt. “Tomlin bought this from Yondersun with money from cultivation job. A better dagger.”

Shadows sighed. “Well, be careful you don’t trip and stab yourself in the eye. That would be a shame.”

“Tomlin will not, do not worry.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Tomlin eyed the arrows on the ground. “Tomlin can help with archery,” he said.

“You? What do you know about it?”

“Dark Lord asked Tomlin to practice a new skill when cultivation work finished for day. Tomlin has level 10 in archery proficiency.”

A look of disbelief crossed Shadow’s face, and she looked like she was seeing Tomlin in a new light. To me, it seemed as if she wanted to accept his offer.

“You? What are you going to shoot, Tomlin? There’s no sign of you when heroes are around. I’ll be fine on my own,” she said.

“Alright.”

Tomlin began to walk away. The hounds followed him, tails wagging, as if they were escorting him out of the arena.

As I watched, I saw Shadow open her mouth to say something, but she stopped herself and instead picked up the dagger and threw it across the arena with all her strength. It spiraled in the air before lodging in the wooden target just shy of the bullseye.

Tomlin reached the arena tunnel, paused for a second. He stood still. Then, with a sigh, he left.

Alone except for her pups, Shadow collected her bow, knocked an arrow, squinted, and fired.

Thwack!

This time, the arrow found a home much nearer to the center.

Shadow has gained proficiency: Archery [Level 1]

“Get!” she said, and one of the hounds bounded toward the target. I left Shadow to her archery and focused my gaze elsewhere, far away from the arena.

On the opposite side of the dungeon was the eastern set of chambers. This was a complex of tunnels and chambers that I hadn’t built but instead had inherited when I discovered an old core living adjacent to me. Overseer Bolton had taken the core back to the Dungeon Core Academy, leaving me in possession of its dungeon and adding it to my own.

There was a definite clash of styles between this dungeon and mine. Where my dungeon was functional, the eastern labyrinth was decorated like a king’s tomb. Full of stone carvings, grotesque statues, morbid quotes chipped into the rock walls. All sufficiently monstrous, yes, but still a little too fancy for my liking.

Occupying the biggest chamber in the eastern dungeon was Kainhelm, my narkleer. He paced around the vast space, his bony feet making pattering sounds that echoed in the silence. He cut a lonesome figure, striding around and muttering to himself.

“A pox on it,” he muttered. “A plague on his ancestors! Breaks his promises. Tells lies. Never trust a blighting, scourging core.”

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew who and what Kainhelm was mumbling about. He was talking about me, and my promise to him.

“Who’s breaking promises?” asked a voice.

Razensen stomped into the room, his giant legs making the place shudder.

Kainhelm froze in place. At eight feet tall, made of bone, and with a flap of skin hanging from his back like a cape, Kainhelm was never a welcoming sight. But when he glared like he was now at Razensen, he became positively unpleasant.

“Got snow for brains, eh, bogan? You must have, coming here, getting so close to old Kainhelm.” said Kainhelm. “Know what I am?”

“A walking fossil?”

“Fossil. Amusing.”

“You’re a narkleer, no?”

“That’s right, plague you. Getting too close hurts you. Didn’t that damned core explain?”

“Yetz, the stone said that narkleers give off deadly energy,