Chapter 347: The Behemoth

Of course, the “beating the kid” that Gawain and Hetty talked about was mostly just for show. After all, Rebecca was already an adult now, and she held the title of a noblewoman. It wouldn’t make sense to hang a grown woman from the ceiling beams or chase her around the room to discipline her. A few stern words would suffice—especially since Rebecca’s head was practically made of iron. No matter how much you hit her, it barely fazed her, and after a while, your own hand would start to hurt.

Speaking of Rebecca’s noble rank, if you followed the kingdom’s inheritance laws and aristocratic system strictly, once Gawain rose from the coffin and secured the dukedom, Rebecca, as the family’s sole heir, should have been elevated to a marquessate—a rank just below duke. In other words, this carefree girl who ran around the estate all day, occasionally singeing her face with a fireball, was technically supposed to be a marchioness. Who would believe that?

But back when Gawain made his agreement with King Francis II, to prevent the royal family from becoming too wary of House Cecil, Gawain’s ducal title was granted only as a personal honor. Until the Cecils regained enough noble capital—land, population, wealth, and military strength—the family’s titles wouldn’t be promoted. So Rebecca was still stuck with the viscountess title for now.

Judging by how happily oblivious she was every day, it was clear Rebecca hadn’t given any of this complicated stuff a second thought.

“Once the large laboratories at the Magic Engineering Research Institute are up and running, some of the mechanical projects that have been on hold can finally get underway,” Gawain said after Hetty used her psionic hand to pluck a fork off the ceiling and gave Rebecca a playful tap on the head. “The north-south road between Kant and Cecil is already finished. A carriage can make the trip in a day, but we need even more convenient transportation to truly connect the two lands. Like I said before, control over territory depends heavily on transportation.”

Rebecca clutched her head, pretending to be in pain to gain sympathy, but the moment she heard the word “mechanical,” she forgot all about it. Her eyes lit up as she looked at Gawain excitedly. “You mean the magic-powered vehicles you mentioned earlier?”

“Technically, we can already build about ninety percent of it,” Gawain nodded. “The only thing missing has been manpower. Once you gather enough skilled people and get the institute’s large labs running, the project can start.”

Creating a more advanced mode of transportation that could keep pace with the industrial development of the Cecil lands had been Gawain’s long-cherished plan. The magic engines in the territory had already evolved to the second-generation rotor engines. In mines, factories, and construction sites, magic engines and the steel machinery they powered had become the driving force behind the region’s growth. But this rapid industrial progress also demanded better transportation. Factories needed more raw materials, the territory’s control area was expanding, and large, heavy machinery was becoming more common. Traditional human and animal labor for transport was clearly a bottleneck.

You couldn’t keep hauling ore to the steel mill by carriage forever. And carrying heavy machine parts by hand to construction sites wasn’t sustainable either.

However, despite Gawain’s vision, the territory was severely short on technical personnel. Even though magic made research and manufacturing much faster, the shortage of skilled magic engineers was a hard limit. So after proposing the idea, it remained just that—a concept. The project hadn’t started yet.

Rebecca, however, had always been enthusiastic about it. She had a natural passion for machinery, especially after learning that the automatic vehicle could be equipped with a sixteen-barreled fireball launcher, allowing her to race at over a hundred kilometers per hour while firing fireballs. She was so excited she nearly got smacked by her aunt again.

After Gawain confirmed the plan, Rebecca grinned foolishly, lost in her own daydreams. Hetty sighed, realizing this simple-minded girl was temporarily incapable of serious thought, and shifted the conversation. “Also, ancestor, the new immigrants at the port have completed registration today. The immigration officers reported something…”

“Oh?” Gawain raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“This group includes over a dozen apothecaries, herbalists, and alchemists from the northern and northwestern borderlands,” Hetty reported seriously. “They also mentioned that more of their peers are leaving their homes, so we should expect more arrivals in the future.”

“…The impact is already starting,” Gawain said quietly, unsurprised. “The northern trade route is personally managed by Patrick, and the northwestern route is being pushed by Viscount Andrew. Progress is about what I expected.”

“The month of revival has arrived. Many mercenaries and adventurers who rested during winter are preparing to resume work. They are the main customers for apothecaries. Over the past winter, our caravans sold alchemical potions to nearly every mercenary guild in the north and west. As a result, many apothecaries and alchemists in those regions are going bankrupt en masse,” Hetty sighed softly. “Now, besides the Cecil lands, their only options are the northeast or even further east.”

“The Grant Duchy of Grant is already our ally,” Gawain said calmly. “Tomorrow, the first batch of twelve thousand alchemical potions will be delivered to Marchioness Ropeni Grant’s castle, from where they will be distributed throughout the eastern region. Our caravans will use Grant as a springboard to supply the eastern territories.”

Before this, some Cecil apothecaries had already opened markets in the east, establishing fixed sales points in several towns. But due to difficult transportation, long distances, and lack of protection, supply costs remained high and quantities limited. Now, with Ropeni Grant’s full support, Cecil’s alchemical potions would flow steadily into Duke Selas Loren’s lands.

“…Then the Cecil lands will probably be the only choice left for those apothecaries,” Hetty shook her head. “Or rather, our factories will be their only option.”

“More will come in time,” Gawain stated matter-of-factly. “Apothecaries are relatively well-off among commoners, so they can tolerate unemployment better than, say, the miners in Tansan Town, who went bankrupt quickly once mining machinery was introduced. The apothecaries and alchemists arriving now are likely the poorer ones with little savings. They went bankrupt quickly after spring when orders dried up. Those with savings or steady clients will be forced here gradually as alchemical potions become more widespread.”

Tyr poked at her food with the tip of her tail, apparently giving up on eating and preparing to absorb the food magically instead. She had been listening to Gawain and Hetty’s conversation and suddenly said softly, “Actually, those who go bankrupt earlier are luckier. They still have a chance to get factory jobs. With the factory’s production efficiency, I heard that a single reaction unit only needs seven people to operate, producing as much as over eight thousand apothecaries combined…”

As an outsider from a more advanced civilization, Tyr saw many things clearly. Although the merfolk society was very different from humans, she had witnessed the rise and fall of many terrestrial civilizations and could read the signs.

“Industrialization is a behemoth, even hungrier than Typhon’s beast,” Gawain said calmly. “Typhon’s transformation brought progress but required devouring more resources and people to complete. The magic industry in the Cecil lands is advancing even faster, and what it consumes… will naturally be more. Traditional handicrafts, small economies, traditional agriculture… all are its nourishment.”

“Factories consume people,” Hetty whispered suddenly. “You told me this long ago, but I didn’t understand it then. Now I do. Those factories… they cause such a huge chain reaction.”

“Yes, factories consume people, especially when uncontrolled. They almost burn human flesh and blood as fuel,” Gawain said as he cut his food, his mind reflecting on the social upheavals during the shift from agriculture to industry and the terrifying consequences of an unchecked “factory-eats-people” scenario. “That’s why we must set chains and fences to control this beast from the start. Whether it’s establishing comprehensive worker protections, preparing for the resettlement of displaced workers, or creating enough surrounding jobs to absorb the unemployed, these are all necessary measures to tame the beast.”

Amber stared at Gawain for a moment, blinking. “No wonder you made all those strange rules when building the factories… You had already thought about what would happen later?”

“Had to,” Gawain smiled at her. “Otherwise, the factories would just devour all the progress we’ve made. When people have only two choices—work themselves to death inside the factory or starve outside—then everything we’ve done is meaningless, and the world remains as bad as before.”

Gawain’s words reassured everyone present, but he knew there were things left unsaid.

The control measures he had devised could ease the conflicts caused by industrial destruction of traditional handicrafts and agriculture, but only to a degree. Especially in this world, where magic amplified every technological breakthrough, making effects more powerful and immediate. The time from blueprint to finished machine was short, and mass production was rapid. Industrialization’s force was magnified, and the pressure from the many displaced artisans was not easily relieved.

So how to alleviate and redirect this surplus pressure?

A long list silently formed in Gawain’s mind…

(I’m back!!!

First thing after returning: I highly recommend a book—“Beneath the Deep Space,” a sci-fi story about setting sail into the cosmos and exploring the future of civilization. It’s complete and won the Galaxy Award for Best Online Literature. You can’t go wrong with it!

Also, gotta say—Woniu Zhenren is amazing… so quick-witted, three chapters a day… terrifying.)

(End of chapter)