Ch.148Cities’ Names.

North of Amurtart. Building a city in the northern mountain range was a difficult task.

While supplies could somehow be procured thanks to subspace warehouses, the foundation, environment, and climate were vastly different from the central plains where Amurtart City was located.

Simply put, architects who had grown up comfortably in the plains were struggling to create a city in the rugged mountains.

“If we build it like this, it won’t withstand the wind pressure?”

“Why is the wind so strong here? It’s at least ten times stronger than in the plains!”

“Of course wind passing through mountains is strong! We still have time, so either make it sturdier or lower the height!”

…That was the general tone.

If architects hadn’t gained experience through redevelopment projects over the past few decades, the city being built in the north would have been a flat city without a single high-rise building.

But having already built a clock tower exceeding 300 meters, and for Amurtart’s architectural community that constructed buildings by trampling logs into swamplands, wind pressure was merely an obstacle to overcome.

Given enough time, my subjects could create a city that would be looked up to even from the mountain peaks.

However, there was now a more serious and important problem at hand.

I needed to name the city to be built in the northern mountains, but nothing particularly came to mind.

One might say I could just name it anything, but the sound and feel of a name is crucial for first impressions.

When going on a blind date, wouldn’t a woman named “Lee Okja” feel different from one named “Lee Eunhye,” even if they were the same person?

So there I was, half-preserved like a canned good in my office with my aide, trying to come up with a name for the city.

“Names with ‘Iron’ or ‘Steel’ just don’t feel right…”

“Then perhaps something related to jewels…?”

“Hmm… but we’re not exactly mining jewels there… I’d like something that suits the mountains but isn’t too rigid….”

“It’s not easy…”

Names are more important than one might think.

Even “Steelyard” was a clean naming choice…

But it was such a direct naming of Steel + Yard that no one could really criticize it.

Like the German “Stahlhelm” (steel + helmet), you know?

But using that naming method for a city seemed a bit off.

“Isn’t there a name that’s just clean, neat, and sensible?”

“Should we search for a professional namer?”

“Nah, that would cost money.”

I dismissed the suggestion outright, telling my aide as much.

The aide seemed a bit deflated, but I could see he was still thinking hard about it.

Above all, as long as we were pondering names, we didn’t have to do paperwork, which probably wasn’t so bad from his perspective either.

The mountains are high… and we humans receive abundance from the minerals they produce.

How could I transform that blessing into a name…

“Hmm?”

Wait, do I really need to express “blessing” in another language?

“High-Grace…”

“Pardon?”

“What about High-Grace? Meaning the blessing of the high mountains.”

“High-Grace… that’s good. It immediately evokes the image of bestowing grace from a high place.”

In the end, I couldn’t escape from the clean naming sense, but at least the city had a name.

High (elevated) – Grace (blessing)

A name that embodied the image of tall mountains bestowing their blessings upon humanity.

“So the city name is decided now?”

“Yes, it is.”

With the aide’s confirmation, I placed the stack of parchments from the cart onto the desk.

Ah… I really didn’t want to bring them out, but now that the name was decided, I couldn’t delay the work any longer.

The aide silently filled the inkwell, and I dragged my weary body to the seat, picked up the quill pen, and said:

“Well, time to work?”

“Sob!”

With my aide’s tears, the royal seal and the aide’s stamp began marking the list of supplies to be sent to the northern mountains.

*

And in February of the 47th year of Amurtart.

Snow was still falling heavily in the cold highland region, but human passion for building a city could overcome any cold.

“Cold… t-too cold…”

“Vincent! Stay awake! You can’t fall asleep here!!!”

…..

Vincent simply lacked passion. It’s definitely not that humans are weak.

Anyway. Various buildings were being erected at the location my aide had mentioned, but since the city hadn’t officially begun construction yet, the facilities were mainly for the transient population passing through.

In simple terms, it was like combining five or six rest areas.

A large parking area for wagons, numerous taverns selling warm food and offering respite from travel fatigue began springing up everywhere, and between them, permanent residences and shops where people could buy goods also started to appear one by one.

The long-term goal was to make this city self-sufficient without miners and blacksmiths.

Self-sufficiency for every city was my goal, whether it was Amurtart City, Woodbury, Pale Harbor, or High-Grace.

“Oh, right.”

I realized I hadn’t named the swampland area yet.

“Look at me. Have I already started losing my memory after turning seventy?”

Actually, there was a good reason why the swamp city hadn’t been named yet.

The reason was quite simple: the swamp settlements were fragmented.

Rather than a city… they were more like large villages separated by short distances, so there wasn’t really a perception of it being one city, and above all, since construction was undertaken by companies or individuals, there wasn’t even a concept of living together.

Until now, the swampland had been a semi-lawless zone, but now that I had set my sights on it, adventurers and mercenaries would no longer be able to roam freely.

After looking at the map, I established a massive safe zone in the exact center of the swampland.

That took two years.

Then, using that safe zone as the center, I connected all the fragmented cities by laying logs in straight lines, and linked all the adjacent settlements with logs as well, creating something that looked like a network of bridges in the sky.

And that took five years.

In the 54th year of Amurtart.

A massive urban area named “Float” was formed in the swampland.

*

In the 55th year of Amurtart.

The population of Amurtart, now over half a century old, had surpassed 5 million.

In truth, Amurtart’s population could only continue to grow.

In this world, women’s liberation was impossible, all religions encouraged high birth rates, and Amurtart was an advanced nation with plenty of jobs, high earning potential, and good welfare systems—it was a miraculous land where children who might have died elsewhere survived, and children who might never have been born came into the world.

It was fundamentally different from Fahrenheit, which had declined to the point of imminent collapse.

Amurtart, which had achieved prosperity through the true and solid power of steel rather than the irregular and arbitrary magical tools of dungeons, deserved to have stronger national power.

If Earth had the American Dream, perhaps this world had the Amurtart Dream?

Otherwise, how could one explain the numerous immigrants still arriving through Pale Harbor?

Even at this moment, thousands of immigrants would be setting foot on Amurtart’s soil, and tens of thousands of children would be taking their first breaths.

As long as the living can fill the places of the dead, a nation can exist forever.

In my time on Earth, there were many nations dying because the living couldn’t replace the dead, but in this world, if the birth rate didn’t exceed 6 children per woman, it was impossible to make up for losses—so at least in terms of birth rate, Earth was overwhelmingly defeated.

Thus, in the five regions of Amurtart celebrating its 55th year, as if by divine decree, each had formed a major city.

The capital, Amurtart City.

The outer port, Pale Harbor.

Woodbury in the western forest.

Float in the swampland.

High-Grace in the northern mountains.

The sum of these five cities constituted the Kingdom of Amurtart, where 5 million subjects under my leadership were all enjoying peace and prosperity.

Of course, they would only be able to enjoy that peace and prosperity until I permitted it.

Someday, when my kingdom rises to become an empire, those who came seeking peace within Amurtart will be sent to war with shackles of war bound to them as members of the legion.

Now only 5 million people remain before I can qualify as a Grand Monarch.

Should I say the cup is still half full, or that the cup is only half full?

In truth, I didn’t care either way.

No matter how much water filled the cup, I wouldn’t be thirsty.