Building the First Industrial Empire in Another World

Chapter 82: Surveying

The following morning, a new sign appeared outside one of the temporary wooden buildings beside the construction site of Helmarte Machine Works.

Survey and Design Office.

The words were painted in black and still smelled of fresh ink.

Several workers stood outside, staring at it with confused expressions.

One of the machinists scratched his head. "What exactly do we do here?"

Ernest, who had just stepped out of the building carrying a stack of papers, looked at him.

"We solve problems."

The worker blinked.

"By building steam engines?"

"Among other things."

The answer only made him more confused.

Inside the office, tables had been arranged in rows. Maps hung from the walls. Measuring rods, rulers, compasses, ink bottles, and bundles of paper occupied nearly every available surface. The room looked less like a workshop and more like a place where scholars and merchants happened to collide.

Hollen entered a few moments later and looked around.

"We’re not just building machines anymore, are we?"

"No."

The forge owner folded his arms.

"Then what are we?"

Ernest thought for a moment.

"Engineers."

The word meant nothing to everyone else in the room.

But it sounded important.

Very important.

A week later, Ernest left for Ravenford.

The journey took nearly five days by carriage.

Spring had arrived in full force across the Kingdom of Belfast. The roads were dry, fields had turned green once more, and farmers could be seen working from dawn until sunset. Villages appeared and disappeared along the road, their houses clustered around rivers and streams that powered countless waterwheels.

Ernest noticed something during the journey.

Every industry relied on water.

Flour mills.

Textile workshops.

Sawmills.

Smithies.

Nearly all of them sat beside rivers.

He couldn’t help but smile.

The kingdom looked as though it had been waiting for steam engines without even realizing it.

By the time he arrived in Ravenford, Sebastian was already waiting.

The flour merchant greeted him personally.

"You made good time."

"I was curious."

"About my mills?"

"No."

Sebastian looked confused.

"About how much money you’re losing."

The merchant laughed.

"You really are a businessman."

The largest mill sat outside the city beside a wide river. Even before reaching it, Ernest could hear the familiar sounds of grinding stones and creaking timbers.

The mill itself was impressive.

A large three-story structure built of timber and stone.

Wagons lined the yard.

Workers carried sacks of grain everywhere.

Dust floated through the air.

The entire building smelled of wheat.

As they entered, the noise became louder.

Grinding.

Rumbling.

The steady creak of the waterwheel.

Sebastian spread his arms.

"This is my pride."

Ernest’s eyes immediately went toward the machinery.

Four millstones.

Large wooden gears.

Shafts.

Belts.

Then his gaze shifted toward the workers.

That was where the problems appeared.

Men carried grain upstairs manually.

Others transported sacks from one section to another.

Several workers stood idle while waiting for one millstone to finish.

Bottlenecks.

Everywhere.

They spent the entire day inspecting the facility.

By evening, Ernest had filled twenty pages of notes.

Additional millstones.

Bucket elevators.

Conveyors.

Mechanical sifters.

Additional storage bins.

The ideas continued appearing.

Finally, Sebastian approached.

"So?"

Ernest looked around the mill.

"You don’t need one steam engine."

The merchant frowned.

"I don’t?"

"You need an entirely new mill."

Silence.

"What?"

The young businessman smiled.

"If I build you a steam engine, and you keep everything else the same, you’ll waste most of its potential."

He pointed toward the workers.

"Those men are doing work that machines can do."

Then toward the stairs.

"You’re moving grain vertically by hand."

Then toward the millstones.

"You have room for twice as many."

Sebastian stared at him.

The more he listened, the more expensive this conversation sounded.

A week later, Ernest departed once more.

This time for Byrne Timber and Sawmill.

The journey took another six days.

The sawmill sat deeper in the kingdom’s northern forests.

Pine trees stretched in every direction. Rivers carried floating logs downstream, while wagons loaded with timber traveled continuously between villages.

Even before arriving, Ernest could smell fresh wood.

The sawmill itself looked chaotic.

Massive logs lay scattered throughout the yard.

Workers pushed and rolled them manually.

Men shouted instructions.

Sawdust covered almost everything.

Edgar emerged from one of the buildings.

"What do you think?"

Ernest looked around.

"You need more workers."

The sawmill owner sighed.

"I knew you’d say that."

"No."

Ernest smiled.

"You need fewer workers."

That answer was unexpected.

They spent nearly three days inspecting the property.

The deeper Ernest looked, the more inefficiencies appeared.

Workers rolled logs manually.

Logs waited in long lines.

Saws stopped while materials were repositioned.

The entire operation was limited not by cutting.

But by transportation.

The young businessman eventually stood near the river and watched several men struggle with a massive oak trunk.

Then he smiled.

Edgar immediately looked worried.

"What’s that look?"

"I know how to triple your production."

The sawmill owner closed his eyes.

"I knew I shouldn’t have asked."

Ernest ignored him.

"Conveyors."

"What?"

"Log carriages."

"What?"

"Mechanical winches."

The words sounded like a foreign language.

The sawmill owner stared blankly.

The young businessman continued.

"Steam power won’t just cut wood. It’ll move it."

For a long moment, Edgar said nothing.

Then he looked toward his workers.

Then the logs.

Then the river.

Slowly, understanding appeared.

"Oh."

Another pause.

"Oh."

The second "oh" sounded much more expensive.

Nearly three weeks had passed since Ernest left Helmarte by the time he finally arrived in Eastgate.

The city felt different.

Coal smoke lingered in the air.

Mine wagons traveled constantly along the roads.

The sounds of industry seemed louder here.

Thomas personally met him outside the city.

"You took your time."

"I was surveying two other industries."

The mining representative nodded.

"Good."

Then he looked serious.

"Because what I’m about to show you is important."

They traveled for nearly two hours.

Eventually, they reached an abandoned mining site.

The place looked almost eerie.

Collapsed buildings.

Rusted equipment.

Rotting timber supports.

Nature had begun reclaiming everything.

Thomas led him deeper.

Then they stopped.

Before them stood a vertical shaft.

Dark.

Silent.

Filled with water.

Ernest walked closer.

The water sat perhaps twenty feet below the opening.

A faint dripping sound echoed upward.

Thomas folded his arms.

"This mine produced silver."

Silence.

"It closed twenty years ago."

Another pause.

"The ore is still down there."

The wind blew gently across the abandoned site.

The mining representative’s expression became complicated.

"Three families nearly ruined themselves trying to save this mine."

He looked down into the darkness.

"The water won."

For several moments, Ernest said nothing.

Instead, he examined the shaft.

Its diameter.

The nearby terrain.

The ruins.

Then he looked toward the surrounding hills.

Coal.

Iron.

Silver.

The entire region was rich with resources.

A slow smile appeared on his face.

Thomas noticed.

"What?"

The young businessman pointed toward the flooded shaft.

"I think this mine is going to reopen."

Silence.

"You can really do it?"

Ernest looked into the darkness once more.

Then he nodded.

"Yes."

Because at that moment, he finally understood something.

The flour mills needed efficiency.

The sawmills needed productivity.

The mines?

The mines needed steam engines simply to exist.

And if steam could unlock the wealth buried beneath Eastgate’s mountains...

Then the future of Helmarte Machine Works had just become much larger than building engines.

It was about unlocking industries that had never reached their full potential.

As the evening sun disappeared behind the hills, Ernest continued staring at the flooded shaft.

For the first time since building the fifty-horsepower engine, he truly felt the scale of what they had created.

The Industrial Revolution wasn’t coming to Belfast.

It had already arrived.