Chapter 283: Kingdom Development
The technological development of the Ember Kingdom was extraordinary. It wasnât gradual exploration but more like âfollowing a blueprint.â For example, they directly created piston steam engines for the operation of trains.
Before leaving, the Machine God Cult players left behind a wealth of blueprints and information from another world.
In return, they would receive initial shares in the railway company upon their return to Erezaghe, as well as a portion of the profits from steam locomotive transportation.
The kingdomâs local researchers only needed to follow these designs, integrating these ingenious blueprints with Erezagheâs magical reactions. It was essentially a magical version of the âIndustrial Revolution,â only without many of its twists and turns. Every step led to the correct choice.
The successful experiment of the steam train was but a minor achievement among Northwind Fortressâs many advancements over the years. The changes in the city were striking.
Smokestacks rose one after another, filling the sky with heavy smog.
With continued industrial development, Northwind Fortress now housed nearly fifty factories, producing military goods, food, and more, employing close to twenty thousand workers. Supported by government policies, all sorts of peculiar ânew inventionsâ kept emerging. Some lucky individuals even became nobles through their inventions.
The streets no longer saw beggars starving to death. Tiefling city guards would unhesitatingly take them to understaffed factories, where they became the lowest-tier sweatshop laborers, earning just enough to barely survive.
Most of these factories were state-owned by the Ember Kingdom. However, as profits expanded, more wealthy merchants and Dragonblood nobles became eager to join, looking to dip their toes into this flourishing industry. For now, the kingdom hadnât provided clear channels for private participation.
Yet, with this trend intensifying and the need for industrial expansion, privatization seemed inevitable. Some Dragonblood nobles had already secured âsharesâ through connections, while a few ambitious merchants had established private factories.
But these private ventures could not compete with the stateâs factories and often went bankrupt.
The products of these factories not only met local demand but also, through Hartâs royal trade caravans, reached northern kingdoms. Everyday goods like scarves and cotton clothes, bearing the âFlame and Dragon Clawâ emblem, were now commonplace in Anzeta. They were becoming indispensable in Skanyaâs daily life.
The Bosk Duchy even launched propaganda campaigns with slogans like âResist the Temptation of Evil Dragonsâ and âDonât Let Monsters Steal Your Goldâ to limit the sale of kingdom goods.
However, they couldnât suppress the publicâs enthusiasm for these goods or the Ember Kingdomâs dumping frenzy. Despite all efforts, Bosque could not stop the endless flow of smugglers. In commercial competition, affordability and quality were the ultimate weapons.
Even the strong, authoritarian Bosk Duchy, known for its rigorous governance, couldnât resist the Ember Kingdomâs sweet-coated assault. The fragmented northern duchies stood no chance. Combined, they werenât even a match for the kingdom.
Traditional, long-established workshops and family-operated small factories in these cities were forced to close down. Many urban residents became unemployed, some ending up as street beggars. Even the nobles of the north found their gold flowing steadily into the kingdomâs coffers.
Dukes couldnât stop the outflow of wealth or the collapse of their economies. Not understanding the underlying dynamics, they simply let things run their course.
Some families even volunteered to act as agents for the kingdom, reaping benefits from the influx of goods while exploiting their own people.
âMaster George... Master George?â
An urgent voice called from behind.
George didnât respond until the third call of âMaster George,â realizing the title was directed at him.
âOh, youâre talking to me?â
âWhatâs the matter?â
He turned, offering a sheepish smile and scratching his head.
Once a farmhand treated like an animal, now a first-class citizen, George still wasnât entirely used to his new status, even months after his ennoblement. Yet, being addressed this way filled him with secret prideâa respect heâd never known before, a satisfaction beyond words.
The man before him was panting heavily but didnât forget to bow. After all, George was a âfirst-class citizen,â second only to Dragonblood nobles, while he was an ordinary workerâa chasm of status.
âHuff... huff...â
âPardon me, sir. Iâm Jack, a worker at the factory.â
âThe Viscount ordered an urgent batch of orders to be completed. Everyone needs to return to workâincluding you.â
After delivering the message, Jack nervously glanced at Georgeâs face. Seeing no anger, he exhaled in relief, wiping sweat from his brow.
âUnderstood. You may go now.â
George waved him off casually.
Seeing Jackâs cautious demeanor reminded George of his former self.
George hadnât pursued his dream of owning a flower shop or finding a wife. After mingling with the upper echelons and seeing more of the world, he realized factories had immense potentialâprovided you werenât just a common laborer.
Using his first-class citizen privileges, George became an esteemed factory administrator at his old workplace, overseeing dozens of workers.
âThereâs been so much going on lately.â
George returned to his spacious home, donning a gray suit issued by the kingdom, a brown scarf from Kenyaza City, a black gentlemanâs cane, and a neat hat.
Fully composed, he stepped onto the street and hailed a passing carriage.
Nearby citizens cast envious glances; to them, this was the height of respectability.
George entered the carriage, instructing casually:
âTake me to Food Processing Factory No. 4.â
âYes, sir. Hold tight,â the coachman replied with a nod, guiding the carriage through the streets.
The well-planned streets of Northwind Fortress were wide enough for four carriages abreast and even featured dedicated four-wheeled carriage tracks for the wealthyârumored to one day become public steam train tracks, though no one knew for sure.
With the sound of wheels against steel, the carriage soon arrived at its destinationâFood Processing Factory No. 4.
Assisted by the driver, George stepped gracefully from the carriage, once again facing the familiar yet transformed factory.
Once a humble worker, Georgeâs status and identity had drastically changed. Now a proud âfirst-class citizen,â he was halfway into the upper-class circle.
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