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

“And when they get to the loot chamber, we kill them?” asked Shadow.

“That would completely ruin the point. I have a surprise waiting for them in the loot chamber. A bunch of townsfolk. At least, that’s what the soldiers will think…”

“Ah. An ambush! They’ll reveal themselves as soldiers and attack the duke’s scouts.”

“No, we let the soldiers leave unmolested.”

“What? With all undue respect, have you lost your mind, Core Beno?”

“I know, I know. I hate the idea of it too, but sometimes you need to be patient. Imagine a banquet is awaiting us. A royal feast with the most splendorous food.”

“Like garlic-friend mushrooms?”

“Yes. Now, imagine that the scouts are plain old biscuits. Would you really fill your belly on them and ruin the banquet because you are too full to enjoy it?”

“Ah,” said Shadow.

“They’ll leave the dungeon, and they’ll tell the duke that they’ve located the townsfolk and that there are no dangers down here. And then…”

“And then he will send his men into the dungeon.”

“Like pigs to the slaughter. That’s when we open up every passageway. Let them get lost in the warren of tunnels, let them stumble into our trap-strewn chamber of horrors. Introduce them to Kainhelm, Razensen, and all our other delightful dungeon mates. Reginal and Galatee are ready to do the same in their cavern.”

Duke Smit paced incessantly. His throat was like sandpaper, but he hadn’t had a drink in hours. He didn’t dare. He’d already had to relieve himself eight times, and his men had noticed. Some of them appeared to be making bets on it, and Smit had half a mind to join them. His guess was he’d need to go another five times before he finally expelled the nerves from his body.

Finally, Argyle and his scouts emerged from under the wasteland, their black uniforms covered in dust and dirt. They formed a line in front of the Duke and saluted him.

“What did you find?” asked Smit.

“Tunnels underground, Duke. It must have been a mine of some sort. The townsfolk are hiding in the middle of it.”

“And the other door?”

“A large cavern. More townsfolk are taking shelter in there, too.”

“And you weren’t seen?”

Argyle gave a smug smile. “We are scouts, Duke. Not even the gods could see us. Besides, they had their backs to us.”

“Very good. Then I suppose there’s nothing for it. Lerner?”

The head of the cavalry saluted. “Ready for your orders, duke.”

“You, Argyle, and Yulpity from the infantry need to divide your men and send them underground to bring the Yondersunians out. Use force but do not kill any of them, for gods’ sakes. I need them to understand that their town is mine, but I need them to continue their lives. I need their smithies to make things and their merchants to sell things, neither of which they can do when they’re dead. I also don’t want to stir a rebellion of any kind. The harsher we treat these people now, the more they’ll want to rebel once my banner hangs above their town.”

“Yes, Duke. If I may say,” said Argyle, “The townsfolk are clearly cowards, hiding underground. A small force would be sufficient to drag them out.”

“No. Take no chances. I want them to see a sizeable force so that they understand this is serious. But again…no killing. Yes?”

“As you wish, Duke.”

Fifty-two of the duke’s soldiers filed into the first chamber of my dungeon. I waited a few minutes and then, satisfied no more were coming, I ordered the surface door to be closed behind them. The resulting slam caused a clamor among the armed men and women.

One of them ran up the steps to check it. “Locked!” she said. “We’re bloody trapped!”

“Can’t be. It’s just stuck, is all.”

“Then get up here and help me!”

Seven of them pushed against the door, but it wouldn’t move.

“Light your torches and move your arses!” shouted an officer. “The townsfolk are in the center of the mine. They’ll know the way out. Argyle? Lead the way.”

The procession of soldiers walked down the passageways of my dungeon. Their uniforms, unmarked before now, became dirty when the dust fell on their shoulders and when they brushed against the tunnel walls. Every fourth man held a torch up high, lighting the channels of mud and stone. The passageway forced them to walk single file, which made some of them clearly uncomfortable. I could tell that none of them envied the man they called Argyle, who lead the way at the front.

I used my core vision to watch them. I looked at their faces, and I saw the fear in their expressions. As I’d thought, they were soldiers trained for battles on the open plains. The dread of an underground tomb was new to them, and the discomfort showed on their strained faces. Soon, it would become deadly.

Thwack!

One soldier stumbled over a tripwire, falling face-first to the ground.

“Keep your bloody eyes open, fool.”

“The walls! What the hell is-”

Panels opened on the walls either side, firing a volley of arrows into their midst. Soldiers fell clutching their necks and shoulders, gurgling on their own blood, gasping for air that refused to answer their call.

“Shields up!” shouted an officer.

“How?” answered a woman. “There’s barely enough room to raise our arms!”

Their voices rose into a chaotic babble. Some crouched, others tried to draw their swords but found they were standing too close to their fellow soldiers. One man fell into another, forcing him to drop his torch. The flames lit on the trousers of yet another man and quickly spread up his leg, causing him to barge into the men in front of him even as one of his comrades tried to douse the flames.

The fear in the