Karl's final plans sprawled across the desk. It was a layered cross-section of his dungeon, etched in sharp lines and precise measurements. To anyone else, it might look like a chaotic maze of stairwells, chambers, and notes. To Karl, it was a machine—each floor a cog, each structure a gear, all turning toward a single, terrifying purpose. He saw not just a series of rooms, but a self-sustaining system, an ecosystem of industry and war.
The Rogina Merchant Company had arrived just in time. Their shipments of raw stone blocks, timber, and ores weren't nearly enough to cover the entire expansion, but they would delay the inevitable drain of Necro Points from his reserves. That mattered. NP spent on common lumber and ore was NP wasted. Those points were better invested into machinery, weapons, or specialists that the living world couldn't provide—the things that gave his undead army an insurmountable technological advantage.
