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

is a very strange thing. High-pitched and tinny. It robs us of our mystique, which is why we don’t often tell jokes.

“Grand names for such a low being,” said the core. “This is your dragon, is it? Only, it seems that our nets have ensnared it. The corpses you see are of our warriors taken in battle. The blood you see spilled belongs to my underlings. And you have the gall to say this is your dragon?”

“I haven’t sewn a name badge onto it or anything. Yet it is my dragon all the same. I’ll just be taking it, and...”

The core laughed again. “It seems a jester has been sent to amuse me. Regrettably, I don’t have time to humor you. It is strange to see another core in this vast spread of nothingness, yet I have no wish to converse with such a lowly example. You will leave if you know what’s good for you.”

He had me there. I doubted I’d gain much by staying here out of stubbornness. I hadn’t expected to encounter anyone at the sand dragon’s lair, which is why I hadn’t brought my monsters with me. I hadn’t imagined anyone would be stupid enough to journey to the sand dragon’s lair, not even the most greedy mercenary.

This all could have gone so well. I had planned to have a chat with the sand dragon, given that I could speak dragon-tongue. I was going to make it an offer and recruit it to my dungeon.

That wasn’t going to happen now, so it was best not to dwell.  Besides, I had other questions. If there was a dungeon core in the wasteland, I had to know why.

“What are you doing here? Where are you from?” I said.

“I don’t converse with ants.”

“Well, you should. They often have interesting things to say.”

“Have you heard of the Black Web Academy?” asked the core.

Of course I had. The core academy that forged me wasn’t the only one in the world. There were many. If I remembered rightly, the Black Web Academy had facilities in the north. They were a much-esteemed institution that placed a heavy emphasis on respect.

The way to deal with people who demanded respect was to show them none at all. It threw them off.

“Should I have heard of you?” I asked.

The men and women holding the dragon exchanged wary glances. They weren’t used to anyone talking back to the core.

The air grew tense. I sensed essence building in the obsidian core, which indicated it may have been preparing to use it. That, in turn, meant that this core was able to conjure things on the surface, which I could not.

I got ready to float away in as dignified a manner as I could muster.

Instead, the core laughed again. “Despite your obvious low quality, there is something amusing about you. You should come to the tournament. We could use entertainment before fights. Jesters of such utter ridiculousness are hard to find.”

“Tournament?”

“The Battle of the Five Stars.”

Now things clicked into place. I had read about the Battle of the Five Stars in a book in the academy.

Once every decade, a tournament was held where dungeon cores would gather and pit their wits against each other. It was said to be a brutal affair, full of legendary battles between powerful cores. It was a place where myths were made, where reputations were forged in iron and blood.

Not only that, but it was said that the winner of the tournament would gain rewards that would make their power immeasurable.

An idea began to spread in my mind.

Back in my dungeon, I found the others in the middle of a meeting. One which I didn’t know about. Overseer Bolton was standing in front of a giant map, puffing on a pipe.

“That stuff will kill you,” I said as I entered. “You’re old enough to know better.”

“Beno, I am currently on my third life, approaching the sunset of my days. I don’t think I need to worry about things like that. Now, float over there and pay attention. I don’t know where you’ve been, but we have things to discuss. There have been a few sightings of ancient cores, and it is imperative that-”

“Never mind about that,” I said. “I have something important to tell you all.”

“Where have you been, Beno? I sent one of your kobolds to tell you to join our meeting.”

“I was out hunting dragons.”

“Dragons?”

“Giant lizards, Bolton. They often breathe fire.”

“I know what a bloody dragon is. My question is-”

“You can ask all the questions in the world. First, listen to this.”

I told them about the sand dragon and the obsidian core. My mention of the core got their attention, and I won’t deny that it felt good to have everyone listening to me for a change. Lately, everyone had been invested in the matter of finding the Ancient cores awakening all around Xynnar.

I think that’s all everyone needs, sometimes. To have others listen to them. Even a hero-slaying dungeon core needs to have a sympathetic ear once in a while.

Gulliver, wearing mustard yellow pantaloons and a frilly shirt with ridiculously oversized cuffs, tapped a feather quill against the notebook that he always carried with him.

Actually, it was wrong to say that it was the same notebook. As a scribe, he was constantly recording things so that he could put them in a book and make a profit on my adventures. He got through half a dozen notebooks every week. He’d even been forced to hire a storage unit in Hogsfeate just to keep them archived.

“So, you battled the sand dragon into submission, earned its never-ending loyalty, and then a dungeon core showed up and stole it from you?” he said.

So, I embellish things from time to time. Is that a crime?

Well,