WorldCrafter - Building My Underground Kingdom-Chapter 179 - Reading the Report

179: Reading the Report

179: Reading the Report

Elvira chuckled, already making plans in her head as they continued walking deeper into Krahal-Zir.

Arriving at the city hall, Elvira quickly split off to start working on the mansion, while Ben headed straight for the city lord’s room.

A pile of documents and crystal tablets were already stacked on the table.

Zarnak stood there waiting for him.

“Zarnak, gather all the military forces we have, then survey the surroundings.

I want to make sure there’s no hidden danger lurking around.”

“Yes, my lord.”

After Zarnak left, Ben quickly reviewed the documents.

Normally, it would have taken him a long time, but with his current abilities, it didn’t.

Dozens of arms sprouted from his back, grabbing the papers, eyes blinking open across them.

An influx of information poured into Ben’s mind as he filtered through it.

“Those bastards… They took almost ninety percent of the city’s wealth.

Recovering from this won’t be easy,” he muttered, then his lips curled into a grin.

“Well, maybe if it were someone else.”

Ben had already amassed a mountain of wealth, or to be more precise, Durnokh’s wealth.

After they brought Slark under their banner, all of it naturally became his.

Not that he wasn’t rich to begin with.

Over the years, he had hoarded more materials than most kingdoms, and if he wanted to, he could sell them and become even wealthier.

But Ben had no such desire.

Every material, tool, and weapon he sold would only end up strengthening the Nephirid.

It was a different story if he took from inside the kingdom.

‘The more I think about it, the more I realize I can use those corrupted nobles to weaken the Nephirid.’

Ben let out a heavy sigh.

But there was still one problem, it just didn’t sit right with him to let them off so easily.

After all, this city was his now.

And those nobles?

They had stolen what was rightfully his.

His pride as a sovereign wouldn’t let him turn a blind eye.

‘Well… at least let’s punish the Reagan first.

Then we’ll see.’

Ben’s eyes moved quickly across the reports, each line of text and number feeding into his mind like pieces of a puzzle.

His many arms shuffled through the crystal tablets and parchment automatically, stacking the completed ones into neat piles without him needing to think about it.

First came the general census.

Population after the civil war: roughly 28,000.A sharp drop from the original 70,000.

Almost two-thirds lost either to death, desertion, or slavery.

The city’s population was composed of several distinct groups.

The Nephirid numbered around 1,200, primarily made up of soldiers and seasoned veterans like Zarnak.

The Shavralk formed a substantial portion with 4,500 members, a race of stone-scaled humanoids naturally suited for earthwork, tunneling, and construction.

The Draknir, a beastkin species adapted to harsh heat and magma environments, counted about 3,800.

Finally Dwarrow, and a mixture of other minor species made up the largest group, totaling around 18,500 individuals, consisting mostly of merchants, craftsmen, and farmers who supported the city’s daily life and economy.

‘So the city wasn’t Nephirid-dominated to begin with,’ Ben thought.

‘Makes sense.

No true warrior wants to rot in trade city politics.’

Next, the wealth report.

Remaining liquid funds in the city treasury: pathetic.

Barely enough to fund a standing guard force for a month.

Material stockpiles: worse.

Most valuable metals and crafting materials had been stripped.

Food stores were depleted, with only a few weeks’ worth of stable supplies left.

The lava river trade routes were intact but quiet.

Most merchants were either gone or too frightened to move goods through the region until the political mess was settled.

‘We need a big move to stabilize this fast,’ Ben noted mentally.

Finally, Ben came across the track record of the reagent.

The man’s name was etched neatly into the report: Reagent Malvek of House Yhrax.

Malvek hailed from an old noble bloodline that had once held mid-tier influence within the capital, though their glory had long since faded.

After a series of bloody political disputes and betrayals within the higher courts, House Yhrax was banished from capital to the city of Krahal-Zir, a punishment disguised as an opportunity to “rebuild their honor.”

Rather than learning from past failures, Malvek quickly entrenched himself in local politics, using every tool at his disposal.

He secured power by bribing council members, arranging strategic marriages to bind influential families to his cause, and orchestrating the quiet removal of rivals through well-paid assassins.

His ambition knew no loyalty; years ago, he had nearly succeeded in selling the city’s magma rights, a priceless resource, to a rival city-state.

The deal was only exposed and blocked at the last moment by Kharvek, the old city lord, who died at Ben’s hand.

Now, according to the report, Malvek had fled Krahal-Zir alongside the other noble houses, hauling away much of the city’s remaining wealth and resources.

It was likely he was now hiding under Varnak’s protection in the fortress city of Gravenhold, waiting for the chaos to settle while making another scheme.

Ben drummed his fingers against the armrest, a sharp glint in his eyes.

‘So he’s not just a coward,’ he thought coldly.

‘He’s a professional parasite.

No wonder the city crumbled the moment real pressure hit.’

He flipped to the last page freshly written by Zarnak.

The estimated losses directly caused by Malvek’s so-called “management” were staggering.

Over 60% of the city’s food production facilities had been either sold off for short-term profit or simply abandoned due to negligence, leaving Krahal-Zir heavily reliant on expensive and unstable food imports.

Half of the city’s defensive resources, fortifications, armories, trained militia units, had been quietly dismantled or rerouted under the guise of “restructuring,” stripping the city of its ability to defend itself when crisis inevitably struck.

Even worse, nearly 80% of the city-born talent, the craftsmen, scholars, mages, and skilled workers who had once been Krahal-Zir’s pride, had either fled to safer lands, been enslaved by opportunistic slavers, or lured away by rival powers offering better protection and resources.