Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude

“Lord Fergus? What are you daydreaming about?”

Fergus’s thoughts were interrupted by the shout of another guest. He lifted his head to see that it was the person seated opposite him who was addressing him.

The style of the Northwesterners was inherently rough, and this was true even among the wealthy households.

“Ha-ha, Old Shank, when I heard you discussing last year’s war, I felt ashamed to think that one of mine, a vassal of Grayman, did not serve under the count.”

“That’s what you were pondering, Lord Fergus? There’s no need for such thoughts.”

The host, Old Valen, raised his glass to console him, “I’ve heard that besides those still serving as officers in the military, Count Grayman did not summon any other knights from his home. Now, Alda’s military is strong and vigorous, maintaining several thousand troops without any warfare and training daily. I think even His Majesty’s army is nothing more. With such soldiers leading the charge, why would we need such an expert like you, Lord Fergus? It would be like using a cleaver to kill a chicken.”

Upon hearing Old Valen’s description, the guests burst into laughter. In this age, knights were the decisive force on the battlefield, but it seemed that the guests had not considered that their enemy, the Kent family, would certainly commit their knights to battle. They appeared to be basking in the glow of their great victory and glory, oblivious to the implications.

The man called Shank, who had spoken with Fergus earlier, smacked his lips and said, “Maintaining several thousand soldiers, eh? I really don’t know how Lord Grayman can afford it. Even with the taxes from Baylding and Emden, it must be difficult!”

The person next to him spoke up, “With enough food, you can maintain as many soldiers as you like. Think about it, not to mention Baylding and Emden, just look at how much farmland in Alda has been opened up since Lord Grayman first took his seat as the domain lord?”

This remark sparked a lively discussion among the guests.

“I estimate that it must have at least doubled, right? Who wouldn’t want to plant more crops after buying harvesters, tillers, threshers, and other machinery from the Lakeheart Town machinery factory? Praise Lord Grayman, for he invented these great machines.”

“The farmland has increased, and the crop rotation system has also been promoted. The yield from these fields has more than doubled compared to two years ago.”

“In the last two years, we’ve also built quite a few water conservancy projects.”

“Iron farming tools have also become cheaper, like scythes, hoes, pitchforks, and rakes, especially iron plows. I’m not embarrassed to say that just a few years ago, all the farming tools in my possession were made entirely of wood. It’s strange to say, but recently iron has become very cheap in Alda. The town shops are stocked with ironware, and it hardly costs anything to buy them.”

Hearing this, Fergus couldn’t help but laugh. Most manors were self-sufficient, and the landowners spent their days drinking their own brewed wine, eating the crops they grew, wearing clothes woven by their own servants, and rarely dealt with the outside world. They only went to town or the city to purchase what their estates could not produce, and their knowledge was not much more than that of the farmers who worked their lands.

Most in the room were probably unaware that Count Grayman had adopted new technology to build several ironworks. There were ironworks in Alda, Baylding, and even the newly overseen Emden, where surveys for mineral veins and water conservancy were being conducted in preparation for new iron factories.

Nowadays, Alda-Baylding had a near-monopoly on the iron supply for almost half of the territories around Northwest Bay. The traditional iron smelting methods could not withstand the shock of the new technology, and many private miners and smelters had gone bankrupt. Their former workers had migrated in large numbers to Alda or Baylding in search of a livelihood. Many nobles who also operated mines barely managed to keep Alda’s iron out by raising tariffs or issuing direct prohibitions. Why barely? Because there was still smuggling. In this day and age, smuggling was simply an inexorable phenomenon.

The banquet’s host, Old Valen, raised his cup and spoke with great admiration, “Every winter in the past, a lot of people would freeze or starve to death. Although some died this winter, the number was reduced, all thanks to Lord Grayman’s good governance.”

Someone suggested, “Let’s toast to Count Grayman once more!”

“To Count Grayman!” The guests echoed the sentiment, lifting their glasses and emptying them in a gulp.

The guests had already consumed a fair amount of alcohol, and though the wine wasn’t strong, there was a great quantity of it.

A man with drunkenness on his face swayed his cup and said somewhat lopsidedly, “Speaking of our current young lord, there’s so much good about him, but there’s something not so good too.”

Fergus frowned at the comment and told the man, “Eldo, you’re drunk.”

The man named Eldo shook his head vigorously, snickered, and said, “Lord Fergus, I mean no criticism of our lord. I support Lord Grayman a hundred percent and wish him everlasting life. But… you know, everyone needs to grumble now and again. Just consider my words the ramblings of a drunk man.”

As everyone turned their attention towards him, Eldo went on to say, “Speaking of Lord Grayman’s shortcomings, it’s that he’s too indulgent towards those merchants who can’t seem to crawl out of their piles of money.”

Someone asked, “Lord Eldo, what do you mean?”

Eldo, still swinging his head around, replied, “It isn’t exactly right to say Lord Grayman indulges them. It’s not our lord’s fault, but rather those merchants are taking advantage of his emphasis on commerce to engage in irregular dealings. This happened a month ago: a few peasants from my estate ran away to Port Fran. I went with some men to find them, only to discover they were working in a saltworks.”

“And then what happened?”

Eldo sneered, “Of course I took them back. I made an example of the ringleader by executing him and severely punished the others, to show what happens to those who try to flee.”

Peasants in Northwest Bay and even throughout the Kingdom of Ordo largely lacked personal freedom, unable to leave their villages at will, governed by the landowner or manor lord, their situation akin to serfdom.

This serfdom was a remnant of the ancient slave system. With time and intervention from the Church, serfs’ living conditions improved: they had their own houses, could marry a chosen partner with the Church’s blessing, and could even pass on meager savings to their descendants.

Of course, all this was on the condition of not conflicting with local landlords’ interests, as they could trade their serfs with other landowners. Should serfs flee on their own, the landlords had the right to recapture and punish them.

However, serfs had the benefit of a “common field” in each village or manor, with the harvest divided among them.

“But what I want to say is—about that owner of the saltworks—what’s his—burp—what’s his name—Godwin, he actually blocked me from taking the people, saying those clods had signed contracts with him. To hell with that!”

“Eldo, what did you do then? How did you get the people back?”

Eldo’s face flushed with excitement, “I couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. I went back to my estate, called a large group of men, and we smashed up his saltworks and snatched the people back. Yet that fool didn’t know better and even appealed to Mayor Theodore.”

Fergus’s face became stern as he asked, “And how did Mayor Theodore deal with it?”

Eldo chuckled, “How else? I was right, of course. It’s laughable; that Godwin didn’t even consider what kind of people he was bringing into his workplace. He even lectured the mayor on personal freedom, ha!”

The room erupted in laughter.

Shank, laughing heartily, added, “I think that Godwin has been befuddled by Dean Morrison’s preaching squad!”

Morrison was the priest that Paul had encountered while eradicating the Shark Gang pirates in Port Fran. Paul promised to help him hide his coerced pirate affiliation and brought him as a field chaplain for “thought work.” After Father Anderson replaced his teacher as the dean of the North Shore Monastery, Paul arranged for Morrison to “assist” him. Caught up in his studies, Father Anderson pushed all monastery matters onto Morrison, who gradually came to be called the dean.

Previously, under Paul’s instruction, Morrison organized several preaching squads in the name of the Church to assail serfdom in rural areas, although their effectiveness was debatable…

“The preaching squad left my territory tail between their legs soon after arriving! Instead of preaching the holy scriptures, they rant about some *equality. The peasants have farming to do; who has the time for their nonsense! Besides, they wouldn’t understand anyway!”

“It was the same in my area. These people really don’t have a clue, spouting all sorts of heretical nonsense.”

Listening to the banquet’s conversation, Valen snorted from his main seat, “We work with our brains, and the peasants work with their bodies. Those who work with brains rule over those who work with bodies—it’s been the truth since ancient times. Even the Church that shouts about equality hasn’t changed that for a thousand years.”

Someone immediately agreed, “Exactly, peasants with heads like wooden knots can’t even work properly. Without supervision, they’re no good. And noble lords are too exalted to deal with such messy matters in the fields. Naturally, it is our duty to manage the peasants.”

An uproar arose among the group.

“These merchants in Port Fran, relying on the few dirty coins they’ve earned in the past two years, dare to put on airs before us.”

“I think they’ve been led astray by their peers in Horn Bay!”

“A bunch of vampires!”

…

The topic of discussion at the banquet gradually shifted to denouncing the merchants, and Fergus shook his head. He simply wanted to enjoy his drink in peace, wondering how it all came to this.

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