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

can often sense when I’m staring at them with anger or some other emotion. It’s an aura I give off.

Gulliver shrugged at me. “What do you want me to say? I was young. I hadn’t earned my reputation as the greatest scribe in Xynnar. A job’s a job, Beno.”

“But working for a hero? Come off it.”

“I’d never met a core before. I thought the same as everyone else; that you are evil beings who murder indiscriminately.”

“We discriminate all too much in who we do and don’t murder,” I said. “More’s the pity.”

“Well, I needed the money, and the hero needed a ghostwriter.”

Eric looked perplexed. “You…had a ghost write the book for you? How does that work? Did the hero tell you what to write, and then you tell the ghost?”

“No, Eric. The hero told me a general idea of what to write and I…never mind.”

“Well, ghost or not, you did a fine job. I can’t believe it was you. Back when I went out on my first solo barbarian expedition, and I found myself alone in a haunted forest with hundreds of spectral hounds hunting me, I read your book by candlelight. It gave me a little comfort, you know? Reading the words…it was like I had a friend there with me. When you’re alone and surrounded by flesh-eating phantom beasts, that’s a good thing to have. Oh, to be seven years old again.”

“You were out doing barbarian stuff when you were seven?”

“I was a late bloomer. Anyway, never thought I’d meet the bugger who wrote the book. I suppose I owe you my thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Gulliver. He was trying to appear casual, but Eric’s praise had clearly affected him.

“Let’s focus,” I said. “Eric is right: we shouldn’t split up. I just have to figure out which route to take.”

Overseer Bolton approached me. He spoke in a quiet voice. “You don’t need to figure anything, Beno. Figuring it out is what a human would have to do. This is a dungeon, and you’re a core. Your instincts will tell you. You need to start listening to them.”

And I did. I stopped talking, stopped thinking, and I listened to what my core gut was telling me.

“This way,” I said.

We walked through miles of tunnels. Eric, desperate to show us how tough he was, wanted to lead the way, but supporting Gulliver meant he had to walk slowly. To his credit, he didn’t moan about it. Shadow walked alongside them, not wanting to be too far away from Eric.

I spearheaded the group. Cynthia and Maginhart walked behind, holding oddly-shaped stones that glowed bright yellow and lit the way.

Next came Bolton, Anna, and Utta. Behind them were the kobolds. Making up the rearguard were Death, Kill, and the hounds.

Soon, we came to a chamber.

“Is this it?” asked Eric.

“I’m not sure. I might be.”

Stepping inside, I was disappointed to see no sign of a core.

And then disappointment turned to horror.

There were almost fifty dead bodies on the ground. They were just piled there. Humans, orcs, gnomes. Men, women, children. Some of them wore thin, sweat-stained garb of the Yondersunians. Clothes suited for wasteland life. Others were dressed for cooler climates. Travelers, perhaps. Traders passing through who hadn’t prepared for the heat.

“So this is where they’ve been going,” said Anna. “All those missing people. Kidnapped by the insects, killed, and then piled up here. Huh. Really makes you think, seeing so much death piled up like this.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh well, let’s get moving.”

Warrane, already pale from his wound, went even paler. He backed out of the chamber. Stumbled. Retched. Luckily the paste on his neck had completely sealed his wound. It wasn’t healed, since the paste was alchemic, not magical, but the bleeding was completely stopped.

Cynthia patted him on the back. “Get it out. Get it all out, that’s it.”

The longer I stared at the corpses, the more a sense of dread crept up on me. I floated into the center of the room, above the bodies. I looked at their skin. Their faces. Their eyes.

“They’re wraiths,” I said. “Just like the girl. Only, these are fully changed. They aren’t dead bodies. They aren’t just piled up. They’re wraiths.”

Eric shook his head. “Nope. Wraiths would attack us. Trust me. I’ve got a scar that-”

“Do you,” said Warrane, wiping his mouth, “have a scar for everything?”

“Pretty much, lad. Now, you have a rest for a second. Have some water.”

“I drank it all.”

“Then have some of mine. Only, be slow with it. Watch your neck.”

Gulliver, resting against the wall, looked at Eric. “Wraiths wouldn’t necessarily attack,” he said.

Eric went to speak, then stopped. Ever since he’d learned about the book, he’d treated Gulliver with a little more respect. Instead of just dismissing him, he said, “How so?”

“Wraiths kill anything they’re commanded to, yes. And I don’t doubt that the core in this dungeon would have commanded them to attack intruders. That’s if Beno is anything to go by when it comes to cores. But wraiths famously have a weakness.”

“Ah,” said Eric. “Yes. Being underground so long, I forgot that not everything is dark.”

“What?” said Anna spinning around. “What? Someone tell me! Utta, tell me!”

Utta shrugged. “I dunno.”

Eric, who knew what Anna had done to Shadow, ignored her. I supposed we were lucky that’s all he did. Given that Shadow was his friend, he was actually showing a hell of a lot of restraint, for a barbarian.

“Tell me, you lump!” said Anna.

“It goes against my barbarian code of ethics to kill an unarmed teen,” said Eric. “But everyone is allowed to break the rules occasionally.”

“Touch her, and you’ll be dead before your next breath,” said Bolton.

“Yeah!” added Utta.

Anna sauntered over to Eric. “Don’t worry. If he doesn’t