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

want with a bunch of rotting corpses? They might make nice dungeon decorations, but I wasn’t planning on sprucing the place up.”

“The girl is dead,” said Galatee.

I felt something squeeze my inner core. Just for a second, as though something had reached inside and gripped me.

My mind flashed to the girl crawling out of the shadows. Screaming, but making no sound. Her black eyes. Pale flesh. The corruption working its way through her.

“Cynthia couldn’t help her?”

“May I answer that?” said Riston.

Galatee nodded.

“The healers couldn’t do anything for the girl,” said Riston.

“Right. That’s why you don’t go to a healer. They can’t do anything about wraith corruption.”

“So I had the idea to ask Cynthia, the town alchemist…”

“You had the idea?”

Galatee nodded. “Riston came to me with it.”

I held in my irritation.

Galatee was having her mind toyed with. She was so far under Riston’s influence that she’d arranged this trap. Right now, guards were surrounding the house, waiting for a signal from Galatee or Riston. I was in trouble, but I couldn’t afford to show it. As soon I showed them I was aware of the guards, they’d have no choice but to make their move.

“Fine. What happened when Cynthia tried to help her?”

“The girl responded well at first. She didn’t wake up, but she recovered her voice. She began talking in her sleep. Using a form of hypnosis, we were able to direct her unconscious ramblings.”

“Have you heard of the 50 Knights?” asked Galatee.

“Are they a bard group?”

“The girl kept saying the 50 Knights were coming. Over and over she said it. That they were going to be summoned.”

“The 50 Knights? You’ve lost me.”

“We lost the girl, too. Whatever foul magic you used on her, not even the alchemist’s best brew could cleanse her soul. But before the poor girl died, she told us something,” said Riston.

He was silent. He was waiting for me to ask.

He knew his psyche-magic would never work on a core, so he was trying to manipulate me the old-fashioned way. Using mind games. Power plays.

Underneath it all, this mage was a child. And the worst thing was, I was just as childish.

I refused to answer.

Galatee was the one who spoke. “The last thing she said was that the core did this to her.”

If only I was able to use my essence on the surface.

Right then, I would have spent every last essence point on creating a trap so cruel, so devastating, that people in the far reaches of Xynnar would hear Riston’s screams.

He was using the poor girl to move on his plot against me.

That said it all. The fact that I, a core who was supposed to have few emotions and even fewer scruples, was more concerned about the girl than he was.

In that second, Riston had laid himself bare to me. I saw him for what he was.

Heroes weren’t the best of people. They were selfish. Greedy. Desperate for loot. When things got bad in my dungeon, I’d seen heroes turn on each other. They weren’t nice people.

There were evil people everywhere else, too. In towns. Cities. Even Yondersun.

But Riston had just showed me that his soul was blacker than the lot.

“I think it’s time,” said Riston.

Galatee cleared her throat. She spoke to someone behind the door.

“Warrane?” she said.

The door opened.

Warrane stood there. His three eyes blinked. He was wearing full combat leathers. Reginal, who had first formed the town guards, had made it a rule that guards were dressed for battle at all times. But in this heat, that was a tough ask. So usually, on a day where little trouble was expected, each guard wore a single leather bracer on their wrist in a nod of respect to the rule, without having to sweat every last drop out of their body.

Today, Warrane was wearing full leathers. Chestpiece, braces, and all.

It looked like Riston was trying to work his spells on all my town friends. Reginal. Warrane. Even Galatee, who never been a friend, but at least we’d had mutual respect. Everyone was turning against me, my dungeon, and all the monsters who lived in it.

“Warrane,” said Galatee. “As discussed, I want you to take Core Beno to a cell and keep him there. You all have your core-whips. You know what to do if he gives you any trouble, though I know he cannot use his powers above ground.”

Riston stood up. “Tell the rest of the guards to strip his dungeon of every trap. Seize every creature. Kill the ones who resist. Take the compliant ones to the cells. When you’re done, I want the dungeon gassed, and every entrance blocked up.”

There was a second where nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

Galatee glared at Warrane, as if putting her full weight of authority behind the look.

Riston just smiled. He didn’t need authority to get someone to do something.

Warrane pulled a whip from a holder on his belt. The strands coming from the handle glowed white-hot. They made me shudder a little. I’d been lashed by a core whip before. I wasn’t in a hurry to repeat it.

“This one asks that you do not cause trouble, Beno,” Warrane said.

I’d given the peaceful option a try. I’d attempted to reason with Galatee before I did anything drastic. I’d given her and the whole town the benefit of the doubt, knowing that Riston was influencing them.

From now on out, anything goes.

First, though, I needed to get back to my dungeon before the guards had a chance to do anything.

“This way,” said Warrane.

Holding the whip tensed and ready to use, he nodded at the doorway. I floated through it, going past held a dozen guards standing in the cramped hallway. As I went by the living