Chapter 36

“However,” Instructor Lauer monotoned, “that’s far from saying preparation and study is useless to a first-time delver. No two runs are the same, but certain frameworks can be applied to aid the neophyte in a successful dungeon run.”

Natalie hadn’t thought it possible, but Instructor Lauer was making delving sound boring. The dungeon was the most incredible phenomena on the planet, a labyrinth of infinite complexity and variance, a structure described as sentient by some scholars, and allegedly sprawled beneath the entire world. The riches pulled from its depths fueled half of society as they knew it. There were beasts hidden in the deeper floors that could destroy cities if they somehow surfaced. And Instructor Lauer?

He was making it boring.

Natalie’s head slowly declined toward her desk, eyes fluttering as her desperate efforts to stay awake faltered. The world went fuzzy, then—

Then Jordan kicked her ankle, and Natalie jerked up, blinking in disorientation. Jordan studiously wrote in her notebook, not even glancing over, her passive waking-up of Natalie so ingrained she might not have realized she’d done it. Jordan was the only reason Natalie hadn’t failed a grade, back at Tinford. Not because Natalie was stupid, but because she seriously couldn’t keep still. Classrooms were torture to her. And three hours a day? Less than high school, but still the worst thing Natalie could imagine.

“For example,” the buzzing, impossible-to-focus on noise continued, “the study of monsters. While your dungeoneering course will be concerned with the intricacies of traps, floor layouts, and common encounters, we will focus on the dungeon’s inhabitants, first and foremost. Much can be ascertained from a monster’s appearance, and a formal [Inspect], even more so.”

It wasn’t that the material was boring. Just, everyone knew this. As in, everyone everyone. They were truly starting from the ground up when it came to the dungeon—not taking any material for granted, not even stuff six year olds would know. Which Natalie supposed was fair, because as Harper had pointed out during orientation, some students joined Tenet from even stranger circumstances than Natalie. There were lots of myths to dispel, or holes to fill, just to be safe. But that didn’t make it not torture.

“But let’s start with general classifications, first. Consider—”

A bell went off in the distance, interrupting Instructor Lauer’s monologue. He cut off mid-sentence, and once the echoing noise silenced, said, “It seems we’ve run out of time for the day. Your next instructor will be in shortly. Remember, pages sixteen through twenty nine, by tomorrow.”

The enormous lecture hall came to life with chairs scraping against the ground. Natalie’s next class was in this same hall—as many of the students’ was—so she stayed seated.

She groaned and thumped her head onto the desk. “I’m not gonna make it, Jay.”

Jordan patted her back sympathetically. “There, there. Just two more classes.”

“Every day,” Natalie groaned.

“It is pretty boring,” Liz piped in. “I mean, how’s he even do it? No inflections, just one long string of blah, blah, blah.”

Liz had, it seemed, inserted herself into Natalie’s group. Natalie had no clue why. Not that she minded. Just, a literal, actual princess, making friends with the three of them? Why?

To the right of Jordan, Sofia leaned backward in her seat, bringing herself into Natalie’s view. “If you can’t focus on the lecture, I’d recommend reading the textbook. That’s what I’ve been doing. It’s much more engaging. And more importantly, informative.”