Chapter Fifteen: The Flaws of the Underground City

The sudden emergence of the Black Stone Tower quickly became the focal point of discussion among the inhabitants of Brandon Stone City. As dwellers of the northern wilds, the gray dwarves of Brandon Stone City had likely never experienced such a direct display of magical power. To construct such a towering stone edifice in a single night was astonishing; if the gray dwarves themselves had attempted the task, even working tirelessly without rest, it would have taken at least a week to finish.

Yet, for that fearsome necromancer, it was merely a blink of an eye.

Faced with such overwhelming power, Brandon Stone City finally settled into uneasy calm. The cunning gray dwarves understood full well what this meant. Though they had long known that Kadek, the governor, had invited the necromancer, not everyone privately agreed with Kadek’s decision. Now, however, any opposition had completely vanished. Perhaps, in the shadowy depths of the mine tunnels, there lingered muttered complaints, but no one was foolish enough to question the matter openly.

As for Kadek, he felt a mix of pain and pleasure. On one hand, he enjoyed the reverential gazes of those gray dwarves who believed he had forged an alliance with the necromancer. On the other, he worried that the unpredictable necromancer might punish him for becoming too pleased with himself.

But alas, having boarded the pirate ship, it was not so easy to disembark. Now, Kadek had no recourse but to use the necromancer’s intimidating presence to consolidate his own position and to do everything possible to draw closer to Jen.

Jen himself cared little for Kadek’s machinations. The gray dwarf governor was a slippery character, and unless necessary, Jen preferred not to deal with him. What mattered most to Jen was the construction of his dungeon. Unfortunately, even though the dungeon’s system upgrade and renovation were complete, another troublesome issue remained...

“I believe we should stop summoning undead creatures, Master,” said Enoya, standing calmly beside Jen, her expression as serene as ever, though her eyes betrayed deep concern.

“Yes, I’ve noticed it too...” Jen crossed his arms, scowling in annoyance at his deputy’s observation. All around, the labyrinthine corridors of the dungeon were shrouded in white mist; frost coated the ceiling and floor, spreading along the patterns etched into the stone, making the entire dungeon resemble a vast ice chamber. The cold was biting: Jen could withstand it, but Bix, on the other hand, was shivering, her face pale and her teeth chattering.

This was not due to any seasonal change underground; the reason was simple, just as Enoya had said—they had summoned far too many undead.

Since returning, Jen’s influence had grown, and now his dungeon housed more than a dozen undead creatures. While this number was sufficient for patrols, it had an unwanted side effect. Undead are necromantic beings, feared not merely because they are animated corpses, but because they embody death itself, exuding its aura wherever they go. In Jen’s homeland, such a place would be called heavy with “yin energy.”

With so many undead wandering the dungeon, it had become a genuine crypt. In such an environment saturated with death, any living creature would suffer misfortune. Excessive exposure to deathly aura could lead to serious illness, or worse, death. Even Jen, being of demonkind, could not linger here for too long, lest he consider turning himself into a lich.

“Send the banshee patrols to the outer edges of the dungeon. The remaining zombies can be scattered inside as you see fit,” Jen instructed after a moment’s thought. Fortunately, there was an upside: with only undead here, outsiders might mistake the place for a tomb, an excellent disguise for Jen’s purposes.

Indeed, while other demon lords’ offspring were eager to display their dungeon’s name like a signboard, Jen had to painstakingly conceal his own... Ah, such was the difference.

Shaking his head in resignation, Jen turned and walked toward the study. “By the way, Enoya, how is Vilna doing?”

“All is well so far. Nothing unusual,” Enoya replied. After losing her mercenary company, Vilna had been assigned to guard the Black Stone Watchtower. The half-blood dark elf had neither objected nor tried to escape; she knew that, without her mercenary band, she could cause no real trouble alone in the Underdark. At least with Jen’s necromancer backing her, she could live in relative safety. If she foolishly left the tower, Jen could not guarantee what the gray dwarves might do to a lone, unprotected dark elf.

Dark elves were notorious, but gray dwarves were hardly harmless themselves. Any race that had survived the Underdark without becoming slaves had their own tricks—some of them quite formidable.

“Do you think our trade with Brandon Stone City is feasible?” Jen asked, pushing open the study door and yawning, then glancing at Enoya. She shook her head, worry clouding her face.

“I’m sorry, Master, but I do not trust the gray dwarves. Occasional trades are fine, but for a stable long-term channel, I fear they’ll develop ulterior motives.”

“That is a problem...” Jen frowned. Currently, he lacked neither money nor minerals, but he was short on one crucial thing—food.

Until now, Enoya had provided food, mostly from hunting subterranean lizards nearby. It was a modest amount, but since Jen was the only living being, it had sufficed. Even with Bix now here, the gnome’s appetite was equivalent to a human child’s, hardly worth noting.

However, summoning other living creatures—especially rare ones—would be different. Any living being required sustenance, and the more powerful and rare, the greater their appetite. Jen’s current food stores were just enough for himself and Bix; summoning more would surely lead to famine. He would need substantial reserves.

Enoya’s concerns stemmed from this. Buying small amounts of food would not attract attention, but regularly purchasing enough to feed an army would raise suspicions, unless the gray dwarf governor was a fool—anyone could see something was amiss.

Moreover, the money needed to buy such food was another headache for Jen. Hiring monsters required payment; as a proper employer, providing food, lodging, and wages was only fair. If creatures crossed from other realms to serve him, they deserved compensation—who would work for nothing?

This was why Jen preferred summoning undead—they required no pay or food, and their combat power was respectable. Of course, undead had their drawbacks: Jen had already reached his summoning limit, and any more would render the dungeon uninhabitable from the overwhelming aura of death.

Thus, in the game, no player had ever built a dungeon solely with undead—it was the epitome of self-destruction.

“This really is troublesome...” Jen muttered, settling back at his desk and flipping open a heavy tome. What the dungeon lacked was a proper cycle. If Jen could open the dungeon to attract adventurers, he might earn some profit. But for now, his dungeon was too weak; he could handle disorganized rabble, but any strong party would require major repairs.

As Jen pondered his dilemma, a sweet, clear voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

“In that case, may I help you solve this problem?” it chimed.

At the sound, Enoya leapt protectively to Jen’s side. Simultaneously, the flickering shadows in the study seemed to ignite, expanding and twisting like flames. From within, a slender figure stepped forth, her laughter as bright as a silver bell.

She was a girl about Enoya’s size, though her attire was quite different. Instead of a noblewoman’s dress, she wore a black-and-white tailcoat usually reserved for men, with tall, glossy black boots reflecting the candlelight. Her hair, as red as fire, was tied into two ponytails draping over her shoulders, giving her an air of competence and maturity.

She emerged from the flames, then bowed with ceremony and respect to Jen.

“It has been a long time, Your Highness, Third Prince Jen. The Kulisgain Trading Company is honored to serve you; your needs are our glory. How may I assist you?”

“What brings you here, Miss Clarisse?” Jen asked, adjusting his glasses and speaking with resigned curiosity.