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

to weighing the dangers of any enterprise and trying to spot potential traps,” said Reginal who, since his wedding to Galatee, had been in a better mood than ever. “But sometimes there is no trickery.”

“This would be a boon for Yondersun,” said Galatee.

“Here’s what I think,” I said.

“Oh yes. Enlighten us.”

“Duke Smit owns the closest fort town to Yondersun, and he has written to us declaring that he wants to visit. One way of viewing this would be as you said, Galatee - for us to think that it’s a good thing.”

“It is a sign that Yondersun is a settlement worth recognizing.”

“The duke isn’t going to stroll across Jahn’s Row, pop into a few shops, and then compliment us on what a nice place we have. No nobleman worth his gold shifts their noble rump from their noble thrones without good reason. Think about this; right now, Yondersun comes under no vassal and swears fealty to no duke, no lord, or any other kind of silver-spooned nitwit.”

“You think the duke will want us to ally ourselves with him?”

“He’ll make an offer that sounds generous. Then, he’ll arrive with a hundred or so troops and offer to leave them here for our protection...if we merely swear that Yondersun now comes under the Smit banner. But whether we swear or not, the troops will not leave. The only difference our agreement makes is what the troops do while they are here.”

“You seem to know a lot about the inner workings of nobility, Beno.”

“I enjoy reading court intrigue novels.”

“Ah, so we are to consult the realms of fantasy when we make decisions. And no doubt half your information comes from your bloody scribe friend?”

“Gulliver is in Hogsfeate. I haven’t seen him since Sir Dullbright appointed him head of public communications.”

“Assuming you are right, Beno, what do you suggest we do? The way the duke has worded his intention to visit doesn’t make it sound like a request, but a statement. Using polite language, of course,” said Reginal.

“And by the time he arrives with his troops, we will already be in trouble,” added Galatee.

“It’s a problem.”

Reginal raised his fist and pounded the table. “I say we send our people out and forcibly turn the pompous prat away!” he said. “And before you rebuke me about hitting the table, Beno, just remember that this is my table, not yours, and I will hit it as much as I want!”

Galatee placed her hand on Reginal’s and stroked his fingers. “Calm down, darling. Your healer said you mustn’t get worked up. Your heart, remember?”

I sighed. “We have discussed this. You might be married, but I don’t want to see evidence of it in our meetings.”

“Might I remind you that we are the chiefs, and this is our meeting room?”

“Might I remind you that although there is no evidence of it happening, there’s also no conclusive proof that cores are unable to vomit?”

Galatee withdrew her hand. “Fine. Now, darli…Chief Reginal, you know I admire your desire for combat and your strong-armed approach to solving problems, but we do not have anything close to the force needed to defeat a duke who owns a fort and an army. Unless Beno and his dungeon creatures help, of course?”

“I don’t recommend that,” I said. “Even if we managed to scrape the bottom of the barrel and come up with an army as big as Duke Smit’s, it wouldn’t help. Dukes often have friends. Some dukes have lesser nobles who are sworn to serve them, other dukes have masters who own even bigger armies. Those masters might view us thrashing their duke’s arse as a slight on their pride. We’d be signing our own death warrants.”

“Then what do we do? The duke is setting off tomorrow!”

“Let’s approach this logically. Now, we know that…”

A voice spoke in my core, distracting me mid-thought.

“Core Beno?”

“Just a second,” I told the chiefs.

“Beno, you wanted a seat in our meetings. The least you can do is to-”

Amidst the protests that our meeting wasn’t done yet, I floated out of the meeting alcove and into an empty room in the lodge.

CHAPTER 3

“Core Beno?”

The voice came from my mimic, who was currently across the wasteland in a town called Hogsfeate. For the last two months he had intermittently been mimicking the appearance of Sir Dullbright, the man who used to be the town’s mayor. The Hogsfeate townsfolk and influentials had no idea, of course, that I had sent my kobold rogue, Shadow, to assassinate the mayor and ordered my mimic to take his place, giving me effective control of the whole settlement.

I brought my mimic’s core information to mind.

Morphant

Race: Mimic

Level: 14

Mimic Proficiencies:

Sir Dullbright - Moderate

Good. Morphant had made excellent progress over the last couple of months, and he’d only get better the longer he spent pretending to be Sir Dullbright. The better he was, the longer he could stay in his mimicked form at one time, and the weaker his ‘tell’ would be. That was the thing about mimics; each of them had a tell, a giveaway that they were a copy of something and not the real thing. Morphant’s tell was quite common.

“Everything alright?” I said. I used my core voice which, coupled with the mimic possessing a few shavings from my core, allowed me to speak to him from all the way across the wasteland.

“There’s a visitor at Sir Dullbright’s house, Dark Lord.”

“So? Use some talcum powder to cover up your stench and have a chat with them.”

“This isn’t an ordinary visitor. It’s…well…”

“Out with it, Morphant.”

“It is Overseer Bolton, from the Dungeon Core Academy.”

I felt my whole core lurch. If I was to make a list of people who it would be inadvisable to try to fool by using a mimic,