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

to the dungeon. He passed the exam. Hang on, Eric is telling me to say something…he says he expects to be compensated for the mana-carriage we put Tomlin in.”

“Demon’s arses, I’m keeping the mana-carriage business afloat here. Carriage drivers will be naming their kids after me, soon.”

Hours later, after distracting Helmut with a tile puzzle by subtly doubting his ability to solve it, I escorted him through the dungeon chambers and to the wasteland exit. Tomlin and Gill had arrived after a lengthy delay, and the meetings hadn’t gone too badly at all.

“I must say, Beno, I have had a very pleasant day. Yes, yes. I will remember this dungeon for years to come.”

“And do I have the right to call this an academy, as well as a dungeon?”

“Your overseer is an interesting fellow, yes, yes. But I believe he is a little… how do you say…”

“Incompetent?” I offered.

Helmut laughed. “Oh, you cores. Very funny! Yes, yes. I was going to say that he seemed rather tired, but that is not a crime to be locked up for, is it? And I have met your cultivator. I must say, I have never met a kobold cultivator before, much less one who is an F class. Although, his cultivation gloves appeared to be covered in blood.”

“No… That was just red essence.”

“Very good, very good, yes, yes. Well, Core Beno. Thank you.”

Helmut produced a sheet of yellow paper with a name printed on the top that read, ‘Beno & Jahn’s Dungeon Core Academy.’

Below that was a paragraph of nearly incomprehensible legalese. Helmut pressed his stamp against it and then handed it to me.

Lacking hands, I obviously couldn’t grab hold of it, and the paper flitted to the ground. Helmut laughed embarrassingly, picked it up, and rather awkwardly placed the sheet of paper on top of my core. I was so pleased to get the stamp, however, that I didn’t mind.

“Congratulations, Core Beno. I wish much fortune to your dungeon core academy.”

Chapter 12

We wasted no time taking a mana carriage to Heaven’s Peak. It meant that I had to sell much of the remaining hero loot from my dungeon, but I couldn’t afford to miss this chance.

Soon, the great mountain, God’s Fist, loomed ahead of us, reaching towards the sky like a slanted sword. Its bowl-shaped arena perched atop, and I couldn’t help but stare with awe.

That was the arena I would soon be competing in. Was I ready? Would my core quality even let me compete with the other cores?

Questions for later. As an overseer once told me, only open your window to doubt when the skies are clear.

“Shouldn’t we have hired two or three mana carriages and brought the rest of the gang here?” said Gulliver. “After we register, we don’t plan on going back to the dungeon, do we?”

Bolton, who was wearing a straw hat - no doubt for the first time in his ridiculous life - opened his eyes. It was the first time he’d done so for the whole journey.

“No need. With each cores permission, a portdoor will be opened in God’s Fist that leads back to the dungeon. One door for each core. It means that Beno will be able to go back into his dungeon between tournament rounds using the portdoor. He can replenish his essence and create monsters for the rounds ahead without needing to travel all the way home.”

We headed back into the wooden lodge with the black stars on the roof and were greeted by the same owl lady as before. She seemed surprised to see me again.

“Did I not already explain that you need academy sponsorship to compete?”

“You did,” I said.

“All the academies enrolled in the tournament have already declared who they are sponsoring.”

“Not all of them.”

She swiveled her head 180 degrees to glance at her desk, then swiveled back to me. “I’m quite sure that…”

“I doubt you know who the Beno and Jahn Dungeon Core Academy are sponsoring. Mainly because we haven’t told you yet.”

I won’t lie, I was enjoying this. I don’t like to be smug, but…

… who was I kidding? I loved being smug! All the more when somebody had already treated me with condescension, as the old owl had weeks earlier.

“You…went away and created your own academy?” The surprise in her voice was incredibly rewarding.

“I did. And I’d like to register our academy to compete in the tournament. The core we will be sponsoring, is a rather dashing, knowledgeable, talented core named Beno.”

It was the old owl’s turn to smile. She crossed her wings and glared at me, beak tilted down. “I’m afraid that all the places for dungeon core academies to register in the tournament have been taken.”

“What? I only checked a few days ago, and there were five places left. All the main academies have already registered. You’re not telling me that five new academies sprouted up in the last five days?”

“Actually,” she said, “They have.”

Bolton took his straw hat off his head and scratched his sun-weathered scalp. “Who are they?”

The owl lady floated over to her desk, clutched a sheet of paper in her talons, and flew back. She handed it to Bolton. The overseer read it, and then scrunched it up and threw it across the room.

“Bloody Tarnbuckle!”

“What is it?” I said.

“The Dungeon Core Academy.”

“But they already registered,” I said.

“The main academy did, yes. But it seems Tarnbuckle has created five sister academies and filled the registration slots with them.”

The owl floated back into her office and landed on the perch behind her desk. She tossed a mouse head into her beak, crunched it, and swallowed it, bones, fur and all. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have business to attend to. We have a tournament coming up, you