Chapter Four: The Mysterious Visitor

As one of the underground gathering places of the North, Brandon Stone City was the pride of the gray dwarves. Rather than a city, it was more akin to a colossal cavern. Countless gray dwarves had carved out this vast space with their blood and lives, erecting within it a prosperous and bustling metropolis. Naturally, such a place drew a myriad of intelligent races, who gathered here from all corners of the world—for brief respite, for trade, or even to settle.

To the gray dwarves of Brandon Stone City, travelers were the least remarkable of all things encountered in their lengthy lifespans.

Thus, when the guards stationed at the city gates saw a thin figure clad in black robes approaching, they did not find anything particularly unusual.

“Halt! Traveler! This is Brandon Stone City—what brings you here?!”

With heavy steps, a gray dwarf guard strode forward, furrowing his brow as he scrutinized the group before him.

At the front stood a mage—clearly a spellcaster. The gray dwarves had little affection for such folk, though they feared them less than others did. Their bloodline barred them from the arcane arts, but granted them resistance to magic far beyond the norm. Ordinary mages held no terror for these dwarves.

Following the black-robed mage was a young girl dressed in a vivid red gown, her lustrous golden hair making her conspicuous. She stood with arms folded, eyes narrowed, gazing at the guards with an air of haughty disdain.

There were no burly bodyguards, nothing remarkable about them. A single glance would leave one wondering how this party had survived the endless darkness of the Underdark to reach Brandon Stone City.

“Answer my question, traveler! Produce your baggage and weapons for inspection!”

Perhaps hoping to extract a bribe, one gray dwarf shouted as he raised his spear, pointing it at the black-robed mage.

He soon regretted it.

“Begone.”

A cold, deep voice issued from the black-robed mage. As it did, a translucent specter suddenly materialized between them—a banshee, her form clad in tattered robes, long emerald hair streaming outward as if submerged in water.

In a flash, the banshee reached out, seizing the spear. Before the gray dwarf could react, a bone-chilling cold—enough to freeze the soul—flowed along the spear and surged into his body without resistance.

Though gray dwarves possessed formidable magic resistance, no living creature could withstand the touch of death. With a scream, the unfortunate guard was flung backward, crashing hard against the thick stone wall. His face turned ashen, his beard rimed with frost, and his stout body shuddered uncontrollably from the relentless cold.

Witnessing this, the two other guards who had intended to intervene instinctively halted, their faces pale as they stared at the black-robed mage. They did not know exactly who he was, but the sudden appearance of the banshee and the aura of death made his identity plain.

A necromancer!

“Hmph…”

With a sweeping glance at the halted dwarves, Janen gave a cold snort and strode toward the city. This time, none dared bar his way. Even the other would-be entrants held their breath, gazes filled with terror and awe as they watched the trio pass.

Not until they vanished did the air, which had seemed frozen, begin to move again. One of the gray dwarf guards quickly bolted into the city, disappearing in an instant.

“It seems the gray dwarves have started to act, Master.”

With narrowed eyes and a graceful smile, Enoya withdrew her gaze from the depths of the alley and turned to Janen.

“What is your plan?”

Janen reflexively pushed up his glasses before replying.

“Gray dwarves are a cautious and greedy race. I can guarantee that the arrival of a necromancer will leave the city’s rulers sleepless with anxiety. If he does not want his city turned into a feast hall for ghouls, I suspect he will seek me out. When that happens, they’ll likely try to entice me with generous rewards to work for them or resolve some peril they dare not face themselves. All we must do is wait quietly for that moment.”

Janen paused, a strange smile flickering beneath his hood.

“I believe they won’t keep us waiting long.”

In any era, rumors travel fastest and farthest. No sooner had Janen entered his inn—before he could even close his chamber door—than word of a necromancer’s arrival in Brandon Stone City had swept through the entire metropolis.

And with it, hidden currents began to stir.

Yet Janen was unconcerned with such trivialities. Indeed, while the city bustled with alarm over his presence, Janen himself sat comfortably in his room, smiling as he examined the information displayed before him.

[Banshee Guard (Silver Elite)]
[Number: Ten]
[Level: 1]
[Attack: ★☆]
[Defense: ★☆ (Etherealization)]
[Special Ability: Soul Penetration (No physical barrier can hinder them; nothing can refuse a touch from the depths of the soul—Penetration +15, Damage x3)]
[Special Ability: Soul Devour (Despair is a fine wine, pain a delicious steak, fear a choice dessert, and death the final course—upon defeating an enemy, they devour the soul to restore health and mana)]
[Special Ability: Undead Conversion (Death is not an end but a beginning. Only by relinquishing the yearning for life can one descend into this eternal, icy world—may convert enemies into undead with a certain chance)]

Three special abilities!

Janen had expected as much, yet he could not help but smile with satisfaction. Special abilities were exclusive to rare elites, the number determined by chance. A fully realized, highest-grade rare unit would possess up to five; his summoned banshee guard, with three, was already excellent.

Moreover, with ten points of defense, their ethereal nature’s resistance to physical attacks, and the power to convert the dead, the banshee guard was the best early-game summon he could wish for.

Most importantly, as undead, they required no food—only the souls of defeated foes to sustain themselves. Even in the absence of such souls, they could survive on the mana provided by Janen’s dungeon, needing none of his own rations.

Janen was not a necromancer at all. As previously mentioned, though he had studied much in the demon library, his own limitations prevented him from casting such spells. The only spells he could actually use, as dungeon lord, were the system-given “Thunderstroke” and “Serpent of Flame,” both basic.

His masquerade as a necromancer was entirely thanks to his banshee guard. With these ghostly attendants, no one would believe him if he denied being a necromancer.

In truth, Janen’s assumption of this identity was not merely for intimidation. A dungeon’s development required a wealth of resources—resources Janen himself lacked. While he could send goblins to mine ore and crystal, building materials and food could only be obtained through purchase or trade.

Especially wood: in the subterranean dark, timber was more precious than gold. Many of his dungeon’s later structures required wood for construction—he could hardly plant trees himself. Even if it were possible to grow trees without sunlight, obtaining saplings would be an ordeal.

Had he been one of his siblings, he could have marched an army to the city’s gates and forced their submission. Unfortunately, Janen did not possess such power, and so, for his dungeon’s steady and lasting growth, he had to take to the field himself.

Thus, Janen chose to appear in Brandon Stone City as a necromancer—a figure both revered and feared. He was certain the gray dwarves would not ignore such a ticking time bomb. Once they came seeking him, he could make demands in return, acquiring the resources he needed without arousing suspicion.

And indeed, Janen’s plan proved sound.

On the morning of their second day in the city, five gray dwarves dressed in splendid clothes knocked on Janen’s door.

“Greetings, esteemed mage.”

The leader, clad in a finely engraved half-plate, greeted Janen with an overly enthusiastic smile, his eyes shining with eager hospitality.

“To be honest, we have not seen a mage in Brandon Stone City for a very long time. Mages are the most powerful and magnificent beings in this world. You must understand our excitement at the honor of your arrival. As governor, I represent the entire city in extending our warmest welcome.”

The governor, Kardak, rubbed his hands together in excitement. He looked less like a city ruler and more like a hotelier welcoming a guest.

“I am Janen.”

His face still hidden in his cloak, Janen sat in his chair and nodded at the gray dwarf governor.

“You needn’t be so nervous. In fact, I came to Brandon Stone City merely in search of a quiet place to conduct my experiments, free from the interference of foolish subterranean beasts. If you leave me alone, nothing will happen.”

“This…”

At this, the fat folds of Kardak’s cheeks twitched. By the Stone, a necromancer conducting experiments in his city?

Kardak could almost envision plagues, ghouls, and undead rampaging through the city in some nightmarish Halloween revel.

But as one of the most cunning and devious races beneath the earth, Kardak was not as foolish as his distant surface-dwelling cousins. After a brief flash of panic, he quickly resumed his excessive smile.

“That is wonderful news! We never imagined a mage of your power would grace our city. I assure you, honorable mage, Brandon Stone City welcomes you with open arms. Might I propose this: we will provide you a building for your experiments, free of charge, and guarantee your privacy. However…”

At this, Kardak rubbed his hands and, with a fleeting glance at Janen, lowered his gaze once more.

“…If I may be so bold, I would like to ask for your help with a small problem…”

At this, Janen and Enoya exchanged glances, each seeing the amusement twinkling in the other’s eyes.

Sure enough, the true show was about to begin.