Ch.32Gatekeeper

[Polistory] had a unique system where, although the starting conditions were basically random, there were monarchs with fixed unique stories and names.

These ‘unique’ monarchs typically spawned at fixed locations on the continent, though some cities could flexibly change their positions. Usually, the weakest among these unique monarchs would spawn near the player.

For example, Elisia led by Francesca always spawned as a neighboring city to the player, while someone like Marcus of Fahrenheit would spawn as a great monarch with a random name nearby, without any particular unique story—just a great monarch generated next to me.

However, Francesca wasn’t the ‘only’ one who could generate as a neighboring city.

More precisely, monarchs ‘like’ Francesca were fixed as neighbors, serving as triggers to force players who were progressing toward mid-game to begin formal interactions with other cities.

While other cities in the early to mid-game were merely trading partners or background elements, the conflict with neighboring cities marked the beginning of true ‘diplomacy.’

These neighboring cities that became the first targets of conflict were often dysfunctional cities like Elisia. This was partly to adjust the difficulty for first-time war opponents, but it also served as a measure of how well the player had developed their city so far.

For example, though I was a tyrant who caused many deaths through forced labor, Francesca of Elisia was not quite a tyrant but more of a dark ruler type.

Therefore, I could spread propaganda that a tyrant is better than a dark ruler, or more simply, win easily against Elisia by spreading the fact that ‘We live better, so we’re better!’

But if a novice player could pay attention to such things, they wouldn’t be a novice.

Eight times out of ten, a player’s first city would be somewhat flawed due to insufficient knowledge, and the player would struggle to overcome these difficulties.

And that’s when a similar monarch appears.

Other monarchs of other cities who are as inexperienced as the player, yet hostile to them.

Though they’re merely NPCs, players who had been focusing entirely on internal city affairs until now can’t help but be shocked.

The shock of not having the protection of the Earth’s Core for national defense.

The shock that others can pick fights with you even when you’ve done nothing.

The shock of realizing for the first time that you could face game over.

In short, Francesca was like a ‘vaccine’ for me.

Painful when received, but necessary for becoming healthier.

Whether the dispute with her would end as just a conflict or escalate into war remained to be seen, but however Francesca might approach, I was perfectly prepared.

My city’s finances were sound, so mere merchants couldn’t exploit any interests, and I had the mercy to absolve sins through death, recognizing that there are lives worse than death.

But I too, when I first started the game, was a far inferior ruler compared to Francesca.

Unable to properly establish an industrial base, habitually pressing forced labor whenever resources ran short, not understanding the complexity of water and sewage systems so citizens drank contaminated water and fell ill, and then building only a few inadequate clinics instead of proper hospitals, using the excuse that advanced resources were needed.

Recklessly buying resources from merchants to raise tech levels, bringing the city’s finances to the brink of collapse, while the expensive production buildings built with the newly acquired tech became maintenance monsters that consumed resources without producing anything, as they required educated citizens and byproducts from lower tech levels.

Somehow trying to overcome this by building more production facilities with every last bit of dust from the warehouse, but lacking workers to staff them, desperately shuffling personnel from other facilities. This juggling act made professional development impossible, and productivity hit rock bottom.

Even properly functioning facilities gradually became paralyzed as workers, exhausted from being shuffled around and forced labor, collapsed one after another. Hastily accepting refugees and slash-and-burn farmers to supplement the workforce, but food reserves began to run out, causing famine and forcing people to flee to survive.

Crime rates skyrocketed, the city became lawless, and everything built so far fell apart.

This was the beginning of what’s commonly known as “Pol-literature” that starts with “My Polistory is screwed…”, and anyone who claims to be a veteran of Polistory would have faced such an ending at least once.

Therefore, this time, I prepared thoroughly.

Expanding farmland, selectively accepting refugees, carefully reading information and concept posts from Namu Wiki and community forums to raise the right tech trees at the right time.

Then the game changes instantly.

Like gears that run smoothly after adding lubricant, production facilities operate efficiently, churning out manufactured goods, while farmlands produce various crops that continuously supply the market.

The city’s territory gradually expands, the population grows, and the warehouses begin to fill with various goods.

By knowing the problems in advance and providing solutions beforehand, watching one’s city grow without any bottlenecks, the player gradually begins to fall into complacency.

And that’s when they first realize.

Why, despite numerous city-states being established, the world’s cities and population don’t grow that much.

Why fragments of the Earth’s Core can be obtained, albeit with difficulty, if enough money is offered.

Why so many people abandon their hometowns and leave.

Conflict.

Struggle.

And war.

Finally, it’s time for them to be drawn into that great flow.

*

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Screech…

The steelyard was becoming busy once again.

Though it was always a busy place, the one who had placed the massive order now was none other than their monarch, Tiberius von Adler.

They were working busily to create steel weapons to be issued to all 10,000 soldiers.

Spears and swords, arrowheads for arrows. Jack chains to reinforce quilted armor and steel helmets. Steel rims to strengthen the edges of shields. And horseshoes for the horses.

What they had to make was vast, and as they were arming a nation’s regular army, they needed to maintain the highest quality.

Currently, thousands of blacksmiths were working in the steelyard, but not many were skilled enough to create weapons.

And now those few blacksmiths were forging weapons without rest, so before long, all soldiers would have newly forged Amurtat steel weapons.

“When can we receive the weapons?”

And now, Ignatz was discussing the delivery timeline with the supervisor overseeing weapon production.

“Preparing equipment for 10,000 men is no easy task, Lord Ignatz. You must give us at least two months…”

“His Majesty declared a large-scale rearmament because he felt sorry for Amurtat’s soldiers fighting with old iron swords, and you’re saying it will take two months?”

“Lord Ignatz, even turning wood into charcoal takes three days.

How much more for steel weapons? It’s not like war is breaking out right now. Please give us a little more time.

The blacksmiths of this steelyard are working without rest.”

The supervisor said this while subtly emphasizing the dark circles under his eyes.

Working late meant having to supervise late as well.

“Hmm… I understand what you’re saying, but I’ve fought directly against soldiers from other cities. Many have died.

I admit I’m being hasty, but as Amurtat’s standard-bearer, I cannot just stand by while rearmament is delayed.”

However, Ignatz also spoke with a troubled expression.

Having just engaged in combat with enemy forces that resulted in over 40 casualties, it was understandable that someone who had directly commanded the battle might lose some patience over delays in supplying better weapons.

Although no messenger had yet arrived from Elisia, Ignatz could instinctively tell.

This conflict would never end as something ‘trivial.’