While the children were busy setting one linen cape after another on fire, grandpa Thinker was deep in thought. He was drinking hot milk and eating cookies as he leafed through his personal copy of the encyclopedia Plantanica.

It was a bit dry, but very informative, if he could say so himself. Could this new author really have made something better than one of his bestsellers? All dungeon cores had a copy of the encyclopedia. Well, not all. Only the ones on the good list did.

What grandpa Thinker considered a good dungeon core was a core that answered the following criteria:

—It must keep humans from reaching the core room.

—It must give grandpa Thinker mana in exchange for resources.

—It must be ready to follow orders.

This new dungeon core, little Theanore, was none of the three. Yet, the list kept putting her name together with the good and obedient dungeon cores. Grandpa Thinker frowned as he saw the quill scratch his writings in the bad list and then write five names in the good list. What a rebellious trinket!

Honestly, if it didn’t mean that he would end up writing everything manually, he would get rid of the quill. It was not like it was the manifestation of grandpa Thinker’s dungeon core status.

No, grandpa Thinker was a common type core. A crystal. He kept the crystal on the deepest floor of his dungeon, the 9999th floor. Guarding it was Alec, the Final Boss of the dungeon of Alerion. No one has ever reached past the 555th floor. And even that had been just a single adventurer opening the door and then running back to the entrance of the dungeon.

“Grandpa Thinker, Sir. The Emperor has requested a new enchantment to be done. A level 1000 one for 60000 gold coins.” Said Iffy, his worker elf assistant.

“I won’t lift a finger for such a trinket, Iffy, you know that,” grandpa Thinker dipped the cookie back into the milk. It broke in half in the cup. He sighed and gave the cup to Iffy.

“You can have this. Bring me a fresh batch of cookies and a new cup with milk,” Iffy couldn’t believe his luck. Grandpa Thinker received the best cookies from all over the land. Iffy would be sure to share them with Anna, a worker elf he fancied.

A worker elf rushed to grandpa Thinker and gave him two leather-bound notebooks.

“This is the work of the author said to replace you, sir,” the worker elf then rushed out on a different errand. The quill began to scratch furiously, and grandpa Thinker saw his name on the bad list.

“Oh, come now. I will return them when I finish reading them,” the quill tapped the paper furiously and added a +2 next to the name of grandpa Thinker’s name.

“Fine, give me coal for Yule. Just like you do every year. The defective thing that you are.”

Grandpa Thinker made to reach for more milk and cookies but remembered that they were gone. With nothing better to do, he dipped a quill in red ink and prepared to correct this author’s ramblings as he went. He was an enemy of misinformation, after all.

Hours passed, and grandpa Thinker placed the quill down on the side table. His new milk and cookies lay forgotten. He didn’t want to accidentally dirty this treasure trove of information.

“It is good; I have to admit. It has things I knew of already but didn’t add to my encyclopedia because it was already so big,” the quill swung back and forth as if to laugh at him and grandpa Thinker narrowed his eyes at it.

“Let us see who wrote this, eh? And what the author listed as sources. If they copied from me, you better place their name on the bad list!” The quill moved to the bad list, agreeing with his creator.

This book has been written by Theanore. That is me. And Mari helped me draw all my leafy friends. Oh, oh! And I would like to thank all the plant merchants of the village for the information. Thank you for reading.

The quill went back to the good list and wrote a +2 next to both Theanore’s and Marinus’ names. Grandpa Thinker sighed.

“Well, I must be honest with myself, if not with anyone else. Little Thea has made a bestseller. But I am not yet out of the running. Book publishing requires a lot of money. She won’t be replacing me yet!”

The quill went back to the bad list and added a +1 to Grandpa Thinker’s name. He held his nose high at the stationery.

“What? She will supply those on the bad list with information. You think me petty for having a toddler for a rival?” Asked the aged dungeon core. The quill went to an empty sheet of paper and wrote furiously. Grandpa Thinker stood up and went to read his partner’s message.

I think you are petty and cruel! I think you are small when you have the potential to be big. This little girl is a giant compared to you, a hoarder of knowledge!

Grandpa Thinker had nothing to say to that. He went back to his chair and took a sip of his now cold milk. He placed a cookie inside and it too broke. Furthermore, he had half a mind to call an elf and give them the treat. Then he slumped down, defeated.

“Do you think the little girl would like her book’s publishing bill footed for Yule?” Asked grandpa Thinker, defeated. Then the quill went back to the bad list and placed a question mark over all the + years that grandpa Thinker had to spend on the bad list.

“Yes, I think so too. But she had to apologize for wanting my creatures to rebel against me first. And for denouncing me.”

The quill added another +3 to the bad list sentence, and grandpa Thinker searched for the cold comfort of his milk and cookies.