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

“She didn’t accept you just for your charming company. At least, not solely for that. She sees something in you, Maginhart, and I do too. Once you earn your full apprenticeship in alchemy, artificery, and tinkering, you will be a great asset to the dungeon.”

“I hope ssso, my lord.”

“Did you bring what I needed?”

“Yesss.”

Maginhart placed a bundle of cloth on the ground and unraveled it. In the middle was a little red ball the size of a marble.

“Did Cynthia ask why I needed this?” I said.

“Yesss, Dark Lord. I told her what you sssaid. That Wylie and hisss crew have encountered a lump of ssstone they cannot dig through.”

“Thank you.”

“I mussst go, Dark Lord. Cynthia wantsss me to try and mix a poissson.”

“Sounds lovely! Have fun.”

When we were alone, Gulliver peered at the little red ball. “It isn’t really for getting through some stone, is it?”

“Are my stated intentions ever my real ones? This is to solve a problem, Gull. When Shadow is in Hogsfeate, I’ll have no way of contacting her. I’m not a high enough level for my core voice to project that far.”

“And this will help?”

“Indirectly. It would take me lots of slaughter to reach a high enough level that I could talk to my dungeon mates from across the wasteland. As much as that sounds like fun, I don’t have time. But…there is another way. Shadow can take something with her that will amplify my core senses.”

“This ball?”

“Not quite. This ball is a mix of chemicals that when set alight, will create something that alchemists call white fire, though when I read about it in the academy the name was much, much longer. Almost as if the alchemist who discovered it was trying to pad the word count of his book.”

“And what is it?”

“I will save us the time of repeating it now, Gull. All that matters is that when set alight, this little ball will burn with a white fire powerful enough to cut a tiny little piece of my core away.”

“What? Are you mad?”

“That’s what they say, but this is a rational decision.”

“This little ball could destroy you?”

“No, Gull. Not even close. I’m not deranged! For one, the white fire produced by this ball will last seconds. You would need to scale it up to the size of a house to have a chance of destroying me.”

“Why doesn’t a hero just bring great big chunks of it down here?”

“Because though white fire burns tremendously, it ignites infuriatingly slowly. It takes hours to set even the smallest ball of it alight. For a piece big enough to destroy me, it would take weeks to light. Can you imagine heroes having the time to spend weeks in a dungeon trying to set this aflame? And that’s without considering how they would carry giant chunks of it down here, whilst avoiding traps and fighting monsters. It simply isn’t practical.”

“So you will use this to burn a piece of yourself away, and Shadow can take it with her?”

“That’s the size of it. It’s the only way for me to retain any kind of control over Shadow’s assignment.”

“I don’t like the idea of you doing it, Beno.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It will be the equivalent of you plucking a single hair from your head. It will take a few little shavings, nothing more.”

“Still, it seems dangerous. Why not do what the mage was going to do? He was going to use some sort of knife.”

“Because I am not a master-level mage, nor do I know one. And the knife he was going to use was probably wrapped in dozens of spells that took Hardere months to cast, all on the off chance that a core came to visit.”

“You should rethink this. You might hurt yourself.”

“Gull, I am my favorite person in the world, and I wouldn’t hurt my favorite person. This is like clipping a nail. Besides, I won’t be doing it. See those tongues? You’ll need to use them, Gull. When we get the white fire burning, quickly hold the ball against my core.”

“Why would you ask me to do it?”

“Because I trust you. And you’re a warscribe; you’ve seen all sorts of things. Don’t tell me that this is too much for you. It will be over in less than a second, and I will feel no pain, nor will I suffer any more harm than if you accidentally pulled out a hair while brushing it. Now, let’s get to this…”

The pounding of boots and clanking of armor heralded Chief Reginal’s and his guards’ entrance into my dungeon. I received him in the meeting room, where his goblin entourage took their positions against the walls. Reginal slumped into a chair and then, as if remembering himself, fixed his posture so his back was straighter than a rod.

“I gave you enough time, Beno, and you still haven’t done the decent thing.”

“I’m very well, thank you Reginal. Thank you for asking.”

The chief lifted his fist above the table ready to smash it down but then paused, breathed deeply, and lowered it. He spoke with an icy calm.

“I have fifty fighters ready, all of them veterans from our wars with the Wrotuns. Town life has swollen their guts a little, to be sure, but a fighter’s instincts never leave him. They are out in the wasteland on a training exercise, but they can be recalled. I also have scores of fighters from the Wrotun clan to call upon if it comes to it. I only have to speak the word to Chief Galatee, and I cannot see her objecting. How long do you think it would take us to flush out your dungeon?”

“Are we comparing our swords, Chief? Shall we get them out and see whose is bigger?”

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