“A Dungeon Store? Oh, so that’s what it called?”

  Xu Han could feel his non-existing eyebrows twitching at the flippant comment. “You have no idea? Aren’t you supposed to explain this stuff to me? Didn’t you learn anything at that fancy dungeon fairy school you went to?”

  Jemma just shrugged, totally unbothered by her dungeon core’s tone. “Yes I did, but the store is not really something I’m supposed to explain to you right now. According to the other dungeon cores, the dungeon store is an advanced subject. Floor 25 and up. That’s in a higher curriculum I haven’t taken yet.”

  Xu Han’s voice got really sharp, “Higher what? Wait, Jemma, are you telling me you didn’t even finish your education?” The irony stung. As someone who had spent centuries as a cultivator, chasing wisdom and knowledge for ten thousand years, his now so-called advisor was a dropout! Maybe this was his long-awaited punishment from the Heavens. They gave him a half-baked guide that was the direct opposite of—.

  “You’re imagining weird stuff again,” Jemma shot back, deadpan as ever. “And to answer your question, not only did I graduate, I was almost the valedictorian.”

  “What’s a valedic—” Xu Han cut himself off, not even wanting to know. He felt like massaging his spectral temples. “If you graduated, how come you don’t know about the Dungeon Store?”

  Jemma rolled her eyes. “It’s not part of the beginner syllabus. They don’t cover it because it’s useless for new dungeons. When you hit Floor 20 or so, the academy will request me to go back for more training. That’s when they’ll probably toss the Dungeon Store into the mix.”

  She said it like it was no big deal, but this was the first Xu Han had heard of it. “Floor 20? You’re leaving me at Floor 20?” His voice cracked, a little panicked and Xu Han suddenly realized how much he had come to depend on the fairy. “Is that permanent? Am I just supposed to run the dungeon on my own? Are they sending another fairy to replace you?”

  “Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Jemma rolled her eyes so hard she probably saw her own brain. “I’m not leaving forever, just heading back to the academy for more classes. It’ll take a year or two, maybe three at the most if I fail some classes.” The fairy murmured the last part quietly but Xu Han heard her. “Anyway, you’ll survive. You might even enjoy a little peace and quiet for once. If you’re that desperate, you can request for a replacement fairy, but, honestly, hardly any dungeon cores bother.”

  “Why not?” A surprised Xu Han asked, knowing that having an advisor was useful.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “The cores believe they can survive a few years without a fairy whispering in their ears all the time. Some dungeon cores even look forward to it.” Jemma tossed a half-hearted shrug. “It’s up to the dungeon core.”

  Xu Han had to admit, a year or two without Jemma’s constant nagging sounded nice, but a little noise was preferable to years of silence.

  “Still seem very inefficient. Why don’t they just teach you everything upfront?” Xu Han grumbled.

  Jemma snorted. “Why would the academy waste time stuffing us with advanced tricks when most cores can’t even use them? Most don’t even think about making a Dungeon Store until much later. Face it core, you are the odd one here,” The dungeon fairy huffed, folding her arms like she’d won the argument.

  In a way, she did.

  Xu Han had no comeback for that. Not that it was his fault. None of the other dungeon cores in the chat had memories of a past life, much less knowledge gained from ten thousand years of cultivation. Xu Han just sighed.

  “So, what do they actually teach you at the academy? We never talk about it.”

  “For dungeon fairies of new cores, the academy focuses on practical skills. Monster design, building basic traps, maintenance and improvement of the dungeon. Our main job is to keep new cores from dying stupid deaths. To know how to keep the dungeon running without blowing themselves up or starving because they do not know how to lure in adventurers. The fancy stuff, like trading with other dungeons or sweet-talking gods into handing out divine treasures, comes later. Much later for some subjects. Those are for the advanced classes. And before you ask, yes, there’s a reason why they don’t teach it all at once.” Jemma tapped her cheek, grinning. “History tells us too much information just makes cores do stupid things. If they know they could do something, dungeon cores will want to try them out. Not because they’re supposed to, but because they could.”

  Once again, Xu Han had no comeback. He could easily picture that happening. Some of the cores like Challenger and Mountain River were impulsive to say the least. If they know something, they will jump in headfirst with no hesitation. The actions of the fairy academy remind Xu Han of those old cultivation masters who would refuse to teach their disciples any advance cultivation technique till they believe the disciple had the discipline for it. The disciple may have the talent to learn the techniques, but if they do not possess the maturity to handle the added responsibility, new power often does more harm than good. Jemma just kept going.

  “And, well, I guess the professors are all for a little chaos. They probably think a little trial and error doesn’t hurt. It builds character, and every now and then, some clueless core stumbles their way into a new discovery.”

  Xu Han would have shaken his head if he could. He couldn’t believe he was actually siding with the teachers at this weird fairy academy of Jemma’s. It wasn’t the worst logic. Back in the Crimson Lands, there had been countless stories and legends of cultivators who, because nobody told them how it’s done, managed to invent some wild new techniques. Most of the time it was just dumb luck, but it did happen. So, Xu Han guessed this world wasn’t so different.

  “Well, as long I'm not stuck with a dungeon fairy dropout.” Xu Han joked.

  “Excuse me? I am an honors graduate, thank you very much!” An affronted Jemma rebutted.

  Xu Han chuckled but figured he shouldn’t push it. “Alright, alright. So, what’s our first order of business then, Oh Glorious Graduate?”