Ch.89Options

February of the 11th year of Amurtart.

It was around the time when the new city in the Western Forest was gradually becoming habitable.

“Clay, you say?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. A clay deposit has been discovered at the point where the northern mountains meet the eastern coast.”

I received news from my advisor about a new supply source for clay, one of Polistory’s ‘resources,’ and was surprised that it had only been discovered now.

“Why was this only discovered now? They must have been going back and forth countless times to transport coal…”

“Well, it was distributed along a treacherous mountain ridge, not on the usual path…”

Well, in that case, I had nothing more to say.

Even in the modern world with satellites and map applications, people regularly miss great restaurants by not turning down a single alley. How much more difficult would it be in this world where taking one wrong turn could mean never finding your way home again?

In this world, simply transporting goods across mountain ranges deserved applause like a trained seal. It wasn’t particularly surprising that new plants, animals, and resources were still being discovered outside the areas where humans lived in Amurtart.

“Hmm…”

That aside, I began to think about the potential uses for clay as a resource.

Clay…

The common name for soft soil often called potter’s clay.

This clay, with properties different from mud, was a resource consumed for various purposes, but its primary use was making items like pottery.

Although bone china had minimized soil consumption, clay was traditionally one of the materials frequently used for pottery, so investigating it wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“But… clay… Is there a good use for it? Now that we already have bone china, producing additional types of pottery seems a bit…”

Bone china had already become practically synonymous with Amurtart.

Even commoners owned at least one bone china bowl, which meant that bone china had essentially taken over all everyday pottery needs.

In such a situation, making conventional pottery might not yield meaningful results.

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be pottery, does it? Let’s see… What about bricks? Construction is booming these days, and bricks can be mass-produced much more efficiently than wood.”

“Ah… that’s right! Bricks!”

Clay was also the material for bricks. Since we already had kilns for firing pottery, baking bricks would require only minimal additional effort.

Moreover, with ample supplies of lignite available, there was virtually no concern about fuel.

“An excellent idea, Advisor! Assemble an investigation team immediately to determine if the clay from this deposit is suitable for brick-making.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

If we could produce bricks, we wouldn’t have to worry about construction materials.

Although trees regenerate at an incomparable rate compared to Earth, that’s only true as long as forests exist.

The population would continue to grow, and accordingly, urban areas would expand both horizontally and vertically.

Bricks could be mass-produced in a short time, and unlike wood, which can vary in quality, high-quality building materials could be secured simply by strictly supervising the manufacturing process.

Furthermore, bricks didn’t require post-processing such as drying or treating with special solutions, making them an essential ingredient for constructing high-rise buildings. The emergence of another industry was always something to welcome.

*

One month later…

Tap! Tap!

The survey team member tested the quality of a trial-manufactured brick.

For a brick hastily made right at the clay deposit, by personnel without specialized knowledge and without proper equipment or facilities, it was remarkably solid. This was proof enough that this clay could produce high-quality bricks.

“Excellent. All the other samples show high strength as well. This seems sufficient for our needs. Let’s wrap up the investigation.”

“Yes, sir!”

After examining the clay found at the boundary between the mountains and the coast, it was fortunately determined that this clay possessed sufficient quality as a building material.

Consequently, a ‘Brickyard’ would be established in the northern mountains, joining the Boneyard and Steelyard.

Of course, administrative resources were currently being fully devoted to integrating the influx of new population and constructing the new city, so launching a new industry would be difficult for the time being. Nevertheless, Amurtart’s administration was capable enough to mark the location of the clay deposit on maps and test-fire some bricks.

The only issue was that implementing this on a large scale would require the complete construction of the new city first.

When a nation of 800,000 people accepts 600,000 refugees, administrative overload is inevitable, whether one likes it or not.

In fact, Amurtart City’s crime rate had increased fivefold, forcing police officers to patrol on horseback even on their days off.

Although reinforcements were quickly provided, preventing police strikes or officers fainting during duty, a fivefold increase in crime rate was not something to be taken lightly.

Fortunately, this crime rate was temporary and already gradually decreasing, but when police shouts could occasionally be heard even from Tiberius’s palace, it was clear that Amurtart was sacrificing quite a lot for its growth.

It was like a boa constrictor that had swallowed an elephant.

Eventually, it would digest everything, but until then, it couldn’t move forward or backward.

If another country were to invade now, it was uncertain whether Amurtart could repel enemies outside its walls—that’s how severe the growing pains were.

But they had to endure.

If they failed to endure, everything achieved so far would be lost in vain. If they succeeded, they would stand tall as the new holy city of the north with a population of 1.4 million.

*

The Academic Society building of Amurtart.

Usually a place for scholarly discussions, today it was hosting examinations to verify the abilities of trainee officials. Formal officials and trainees gathered on the lower floor, taking and supervising tests.

Normally, such occasions would be marked by awkward silence, but…

“Damn it! Is this ‘writing’ or ‘drawing’?!”

One of the administrators supervising the continental common script test for new trainees finally lost his temper and cursed.

Ironically, he was one of those officials who, a few years ago, had been too intimidated to properly respond to the refugees from Elisia. Now, with experience under his belt, he had evolved into someone who berated aspiring administrators.

Whether this was progress or stagnation was unclear, but what was even sadder was that the trainees’ intelligence was so lacking that such contradictory scolding seemed justified.

“I-I’m sorry!”

“You bastards! Do you know how much money is being spent on you, and you still can’t even read properly? What’s the point of creating a continental common script if the people learning it are thick-skulled!”

Typically, being an ‘official’ requires, at minimum, enough education to write not only one’s own name but others’ names as well, regardless of differences in specific requirements.

Setting aside other qualifications, one must at least be able to read incoming orders.

Unfortunately, the current crop of trainees fell far short of this standard.

Beyond illiteracy, their basic intellectual capabilities were severely lacking.

This was because they came from the Central region, where the struggle of all nations against all nations had continued for thousands of years, leaving everyone except those necessary for maintaining the system suffering from poverty, underdevelopment, and poor education.

Moreover, many of the refugees were neither soldiers nor farmers, but truly pitiful individuals who possessed nothing, knew nothing, and could do nothing. Trying to educate them to become officials was like attempting to compress ten years of socialization education into a crash course.

But what choice was there? With too few educated people available, teaching the uneducated was necessary, and once the decision was made to exploit their ‘desperation,’ this level of trial and error had to be endured through sheer determination.

If the option to become officials was taken away from them, all 1.4 million citizens of Amurtart knew very well what these desperate people might do to survive.