In the small farming town of Quincy, screams were the first thing most of the villagers heard as the soldiers arrived with the breaking of the dawn. They had camped nearby the night before, not wishing to enter the town at night and give early warning before they were able to take control of the situation fully.

Gauntleted hands pounded on doors or shoved them open, forcing the recently awakened men, women, and children to stumble out into the streets. Soldiers from Silverguard lined the families up with little mercy and more violence than strictly necessary. Rows of pikes and worn but polished armor stared down at the shivering rows of fearful expressions.

“I have great news for your village… what did you call it?” The commander projected with a booming voice.

Not one person spoke up, and after a couple of seconds, several of the soldiers standing behind the sloppy rows of villagers moved in and slapped, prodded, or otherwise encouraged the visitors to speak up.

“The town’s name is Quincy, after our founding family,” an older man finally said.

“Ahh, yes. Quincy, I have good news for your village. His Royal Majesty King Reginald Silverguard the fourth has designed to extend his protection to your village and the surrounding area. I am here today to deliver this joyous news and to declare the founding of the Silver Kingdom!”

The loud clanging of weapons against shields and armor was almost drowned out by absolute silence from the villagers.

The commander allowed a frown to settle over his face. “I’ll tell you now that you have two options. Option one is to embrace your new role as citizens of the kingdom of silver. Enjoy the added protection of the garrison that we will leave with you. Appreciate the trade that will flourish between your village and our fair city. Live your lives to the fullest.

“Option two: become an example to the surrounding villages. Die, and have your farms and fields passed onto others who are more grateful for the opportunity they were given. Throw those you love to the sword and let their bloated bodies be displayed as a warning that rebellion will not be tolerated.

“The choice is entirely in your hands. Will you kneel?”

Slowly, but inevitably, every person lowered themselves to the earth.

---

After leaving a garrison of 20 men at the village to keep order per the regent’s instructions, a slightly reduced force of 100 soldiers made their way to the next village about a week further into the unclaimed lands. The small hamlet had no name, no significant strategic value due to its lack of resources and infrastructure, and was only inhabited by 53 souls divided amongst 11 families. It also had the distinct disadvantage of a cultivated sense of independence that pervaded each family’s upbringing.

A rude response to the commander’s slightly-used speech and a few fathers drawing their work knives led to a wholesale slaughter of the townspeople. The soldiers searched each house, few of which were any better than mud-brick shanties, and disgustedly set the thatch roofs on fire after returning mostly empty-handed.

The commander called for the men to make camp and enjoy an extra day’s rest as a reward for their extra work.

Meanwhile, a farmer who was called Greyson had managed to spirit away his infant daughter on a horse and was galloping at full speed away from the flickering light that was still displaying their losses in the early morning sky. Yes, he would spread the news. But he had more demanding concerns that pounded repeatedly in his brain with every strike of the hoof - safety for his girl, and revenge for his wife.

---

Jason woke up with a knot in his back but a smile on his face. I miss memory foam, he thought as he sat up on the hay-filled, lumpy mattress suspended off the ground by crisscrossing ropes. They had sagged to the point of nearly touching the floor. I guess I didn’t sleep tight last night. But it sure beats camping on the ground. I can’t say I mind that everyone insisted I take the first finished house with our new lumber. He swung his legs over the side and proceeded to leave the single bedroom of what he had started referring to in his mind as the cabin. The front area had a stone fireplace and hearth, a table, four chairs, and a few rough cabinets.

The table and cabinets had been made with new lumber from the mill and had started to shrink and warp as they dried. The chairs were in better shape as they had been donated by kind townsfolk who told him repeatedly that they appreciated how approachable he was and what he was doing for the town.

His breakfast, a loaf of hot bread, butter, and a hearty stew with some mystery meat and what looked like carrots awaited him on his table. I’ve got to remember to thank Phipp and his wife for taking care of my food each meal. I’d starve to death otherwise - or just spend all day cooking and baking and not get anything done.

He paused as he looked back over to the hearth, where a small fire had obviously been recently re-kindled. Nope, he corrected himself. I’d definitely just starve. There’s no way I’d be able to cook remotely edible food over that fire.

Jason’s thought process had been changing over the weeks he had now spent in this digital world. Whenever he saw a problem or a challenge, he’d begun to ask what he could invent to solve the problem. As of yet, he hadn’t been able to sell anything to the far villages or even more distant cities, since the entirety of his lumber production, increased as it was, would be gobbled up by local projects for at least the next month or two.

After that, though, he was sure he’d be making a nice profit on a commodity that was usually much more time-consuming to produce. When he began to build an actual industrial base, he was sure that the gold would really begin to flow.

Alex knocked on the door right as Jason was about to open it and head on out into the warm summer drizzle the new day had delivered to the village. “How do you do that?” Jason asked in surprise.

“Do what, my lord?” Alex responded, an innocent look on his face.

“Never mind. What’s on our list today?”

Alex had quickly become an indispensable personal assistant. In addition to writing down ideas Jason wanted to be reminded of later, and helping him procure the goods and services that his merchant background still provided him, he had become a sort of go-between for the townsfolk and their lord.

The villagers were ecstatic to see how friendly Jason was and were quickly warming up to him. They’d not hesitate to speak with him (still in very deferential tones) and thank him for all that he was doing, or offer a bite to eat or other small tokens of respect. But Jason had observed, and Alex had confirmed that they were still reluctant to speak to him about requests or concerns. The merchant, though, didn’t have the barrier of nobility to deal with and was very personable, making him the perfect man for everyone to bring their problems to.

“Well, my lord,” the tall merchant stretched his bulky frame and started walking towards the new industrial sector. “Otto and his sons have a few things to show you at the blacksmith’s shop. We should probably begin there. A traveling merchant made his biannual stop in the village yesterday - did you see him?”

“No, I missed him. I was touring the surrounding farms with Tyler and his squad during the day and didn’t get back until right after dusk. Why? Did he have anything interesting?”

“Yes, my lord, he had an item on the list you wanted me to look out for. Saltpeter, for cooling beverages in the summer heat. He didn’t have much, but I did purchase all he had.”

“Excellent, my man!” Jason shouted and slapped Alex on the back. The horrified look Jason got back made him grin ruefully and shrug.

“Well, we’re not using it for cooling drinks.” He shot Alex a glare. “Don’t you think about using it for anything like that. It’s going to help us leverage our military force into something that has a little more oomph.”

Alex looked skeptical. “Will we throw cold lemonade at the brigands, my lord?”

Jason grinned right back. “I knew there was a sense of humor in there.”

“I know you have a plan, my lord. It’s just completely opaque to me.”

“You’ll see soon enough, Alex. Soon enough.”

---

“Two big milestones, my lord,” Otto pronounced proudly, using honorifics he typically skipped and handing Jason a bar of iron. “This is one of them.”

Jason looked over the unassuming bar with several dents and slight bends in its length and raised an eyebrow. “Did you do it?”

“I sure did,” Otto said as the smile spread across his soot-covered face. “I’m sure this is the ductile iron you were telling me about.”

“Show me.”

“You see, I can hammer it, like this, and the bar deforms. That wouldn’t be unusual for wrought iron, but this is cast. I haven’t worked on it at all. Cast iron is normally brittle and would quickly crack with the abuse I’m giving it,” he spoke as he continued to pound away on the bar, which was bending and beginning to elongate.

“See? I can manipulate it and draw it out without heating it up in the forge at least ten, fifteen percent before I risk ruining it. This is truly a magical material.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Otto, but it’s amazing what we can do with a little experimentation.” And a little focused research in advance, Jason added in his mind.

“This is excellent news. Have you tried casting the gears we were going to use with our pipe making apparatus?”

“Not quite yet. I produced these five casts first and wanted to verify that I could repeat this process consistently.” He pointed to four other dented and deformed bars, most of which had been hammered to the point of actual breakage.

“I’m confident I can. With the right amount of your special salts, extra heat to burn out the impurities, and working in more charcoal afterward in the proper ratios, I’m confident we can make larger batches.”

“Great work, Otto! You are a genius among mere mortals.” Jason praised the burly man as he crossed his arms and basked in the accolades.

“The second milestone you can see over there.” Otto pointed towards the far wall of the recently finished building. A hole in the wall allowed a cylindrical shaft to pass through to where a group of men were working. “On the other side of that wall, the second of the new waterwheels stands finished. Want to see it?”

“Of course!” Jason replied with the grin of a child with a new toy.

They walked out the tall double doors that had been propped open at the front of the building and made their way to the back of the structure. The hand-wrought iron shaft they had seen inside continued to a new waterwheel that was currently dry and motionless.

“Same as the other, an elevated wooden sluice controlled by a gate upstream directs water over the wheel, powering the shaft.”

“What’s this added platform by the sluice for?” Jason asked, even as he was climbing up the ladder to reach it.

“Well, you see, that was my son Pein’s idea. He’s the younger of my two, rather skinny, nice kid. A young man now, I suppose.” Otto delayed, both proud of his son and slightly worried that they hadn’t followed their lord’s instructions to the letter. “He didn’t want us to have to send someone upstream every time we needed to change the speed of the wheel and regulate the water flow with the sluice gate. So we built this one slightly differently.

“See the channel that is blocked off by a board but splits off at a slight from the main channel, and just ends? If you move the board that’s blocking it, it pivots out into the main channel, and you can divert some or all of the flow and dump it before it hits the wheel, hopefully slowing it down quickly. We tested it out, and it seems to work just fine.”

“I’m impressed, Otto. Very impressed. Don’t worry; I applaud innovation. There may be some projects where I need you to do exactly what I tell you, and it would be good to check with me before changing things around, but this was an excellent idea. Do pass on my compliments to your son Pein.

“In fact, I’d rather like to meet him. Is he around?”

“I can certainly send for him, my lord,” Otto said, the new respect seeming a bit out of place in his normally coarse speech patterns. “I think he’s at home with his mother at this hour.”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” Jason replied. “I’m sure I’ll have the chance to meet him again soon. But I can always use more people who can make ideas like this one better.”

“Of course, my lord,” Otto said, and Alex made a note to set up the appointment.

The small group walked back inside to discuss what they needed to get on the other end of the shaft without delay.