Chapter 68: Completion of the Three Branches
The future was arriving one machine at a time.
And then, before Ernest truly realized it, months had passed.
The construction reports that once filled his desk with progress updates were now being replaced by completion reports.
Northport.
Completed.
Ravenford.
Completed.
Eastgate.
Completed.
On a cool spring morning, Ernest sat inside the Helmarte Soap Works office staring at three separate documents spread across his desk.
Each carried the seal of a construction supervisor.
Each confirmed the same thing.
The factories were ready.
For several moments he simply looked at them.
Not because the information surprised him.
Because it felt unreal.
Less than two years ago he had been making soap in a borrowed corner of Hollen’s forge.
Now Helmarte Soap Works operated four factories across the Kingdom of Belfast.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
Hollen entered carrying a mug of tea.
The forge owner immediately noticed the documents.
"They’re finished?"
Ernest nodded.
"They’re finished."
Hollen stood silently for a moment.
Then sat down.
Neither spoke.
There wasn’t much to say.
Some accomplishments were too large for words.
Eventually Hollen exhaled.
"Gods."
That seemed to summarize the situation perfectly.
The first opening ceremony took place in Northport.
The city sat along Belfast’s northern coast and served as one of the kingdom’s busiest commercial centers.
Merchants filled the streets.
Warehouses lined the harbor.
Ships constantly arrived and departed carrying goods from across Eldoria.
The factory itself stood near the industrial district.
A massive brick structure stretching across several acres of land.
The building dwarfed the original Helmarte facility.
Rows of large windows lined the walls.
Storage warehouses stood nearby.
A dedicated loading yard occupied the rear of the property.
And unlike the original factory, this one had been designed from the beginning using everything Ernest had learned.
Worker flow.
Material flow.
Storage management.
Production efficiency.
Every lesson had been incorporated.
Hundreds of people gathered outside the gates.
Workers.
Merchants.
Guild officials.
Curious citizens.
Even local nobles.
The Helmarte Soap Works name had become famous.
People wanted to see what all the excitement was about.
When Ernest stepped from the carriage, conversations immediately erupted.
Many recognized him.
Some looked shocked.
Others simply stared.
The twelve-year-old owner had already become something of a legend.
A strange one.
But a legend nonetheless.
The factory manager approached quickly.
"Master Ernest."
"Everything ready?"
"Yes sir."
The man looked nervous.
Very nervous.
This was his first day managing an entire factory.
Ernest placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"You’ll do fine."
The manager visibly relaxed.
A short speech followed.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing grand.
Ernest simply thanked the workers, investors, suppliers, and city officials who helped make the project possible.
Then the gates opened.
The crowd entered.
Gasps immediately followed.
The interior looked unlike most workshops in Belfast.
Wide walkways.
Organized workstations.
Clearly marked storage areas.
Dedicated quality control sections.
Workers moved efficiently between stations.
Everything had a purpose.
Everything had a place.
The crowd spent nearly two hours touring the facility.
By the end, several merchants were already discussing future orders.
The factory hadn’t even completed its first production run.
And customers were already waiting.
Ravenford’s opening came next.
The city had suffered delays during construction because of heavy rainfall.
Mud.
Flooding.
Transportation issues.
For months it seemed cursed.
Yet despite those challenges, the factory stood completed.
And it was beautiful.
Located beside a major trade road, the facility overlooked rolling farmland stretching toward the horizon.
Unlike Northport’s industrial atmosphere, Ravenford felt almost peaceful.
Farmers and townsfolk gathered alongside merchants and officials.
Many had watched the factory rise from bare ground.
Now they wanted to see it operate.
The opening attracted an even larger crowd than expected.
One elderly farmer stared at the building for nearly a minute.
Then shook his head.
"When I was young, that field grew wheat."
His grandson laughed.
"Now it grows soap."
Even Ernest smiled at that.
The factory quickly became one of Ravenford’s largest employers.
Hundreds of workers.
Stable wages.
Consistent demand for local goods.
The economic impact was immediate.
Shops became busier.
Transportation companies received new contracts.
Farmers found additional customers.
The city benefited in ways far beyond soap itself.
The final opening took place in Eastgate.
And this one felt different.
Very different.
Because Eastgate represented the future.
Coal mines surrounded the city.
Iron deposits existed nearby.
Transportation links were improving every year.
If industrialization took root anywhere in Belfast, it would begin here.
The factory stood larger than the previous two.
Built with expansion in mind.
Additional land had already been reserved for future facilities.
Warehouses.
Workshops.
Potential machine shops.
Even Ernest wasn’t entirely sure what would eventually occupy the area.
Only that something would.
The opening ceremony attracted representatives from the Merchant Guild.
That alone demonstrated the importance of the project.
Several officials toured the factory personally.
One guild representative spent nearly an hour inspecting production lines.
Finally, he approached Ernest.
"Master Teucher."
"Yes?"
The man looked around the factory.
Then toward the busy workers.
Then back at Ernest.
"I believe we’re witnessing the beginning of something important."
Ernest smiled.
"So do I."
Because he knew something the guild official didn’t.
Soap was merely the first step.
The steam engine continued taking shape.
Machine tools continued improving.
Skilled workers continued learning.
The foundations were already being laid.
People simply hadn’t realized it yet.
Several weeks later, Ernest stood in his office back in Helmarte.
A new map hung on the wall.
This one looked different from the old version.
Four pins now marked operational factories.
Helmarte.
Northport.
Ravenford.
Eastgate.
Four factories.
Thousands of workers.
Millions of riels invested.
A kingdom-wide distribution network.
And they were only getting started.
Hollen entered carrying another stack of reports.
"Good news."
Ernest raised an eyebrow.
"Which factory?"
"All of them."
That immediately got his attention.
The forge owner dropped the reports onto the desk.
"Production exceeded projections."
Ernest opened the first report.
Then the second.
Then the third.
A slow smile appeared.
The numbers were impressive.
Very impressive.
For the first time, Helmarte Soap Works had become something larger than a single successful company.
It had become an industry.
And somewhere beyond the walls of Hollen’s forge, workers continued assembling a massive fifty-horsepower steam engine.
A machine that might change everything once again.
