[Chapter Size: 1300 Words.]
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The people of Westeros were largely indifferent to the passing of years, often vague even about the current date.
Because of this, Theon could only determine the approximate time of year through common methods, and he required each noble to inform their subjects of the season once every fifteen days.
At the same time, a large number of low-ranking scholars from the Citadel, along with fallen knights and destitute nobles who could read and write, were recruited.
Due to the high cost, Theon could not publish newspapers as he had hoped. Instead, he produced a small number of newsletters and distributed them to noble knights in the form of letters. On the last three days of each month, he arranged for scholars to read their contents aloud at a fixed location.
In truth, this could hardly be called a newspaper, more a public notice. But it was unavoidable. The Department of Industrial Equipment included papermakers dedicated to researching low-cost production.
Thanks to Theon's guidance and the fact that Westerosi papermaking was not entirely primitive, progress remained steady.
With the implementation of many of his measures, Pyke developed at astonishing speed. Though the island's natural resources were limited, its economic growth was visible to the naked eye.
The next day, a letter arrived in King's Landing, brusquely summoning Theon to court to testify against Tyrion for poisoning the king, demanding he reach the capital within two weeks.
Handing the envelope to Andre, Theon sneered: "Before, they would have politely asked me to come to King's Landing. But now, look what this letter says."
"Tywin orders me to arrive within fifteen days. He even says I'll be disappointing Joffrey if I don't." Theon scoffed.
Andre, however, found it natural. Once, Theon had easily addressed him as "His Majesty Joffrey," but now he spoke of him simply as "Joffrey."
Of course, Andre kept his thoughts to himself.
Straightening his back, Andre continued. "Tombil had just purchased five thousand high-quality horses from Essos, with the first shipment of one thousand warhorses arriving in the Riverlands."
Theon made several adjustments to Westerosi saddles and fitted the warhorses with iron shoes.
This allowed his cavalry to control their mounts with ease, maintaining combat effectiveness for long periods without worrying about hoof damage.
In the age of cold steel, warhorses were the equivalent of tanks. Once they built momentum, they could smash through infantry phalanxes many times their size.
"Your Majesty, good news!" a burly man burst into Theon's study.
"Trass, how many times have I told you not to be so reckless? Apologize to His Majesty at once!" Andre blinked furiously at him while scolding.
"Andre, do you have sand in your eyes? Why are you blinking like that?" asked Trass, genuinely puzzled, momentarily forgetting his errand.
Theon laughed. "Enough, Trass, what is it?" He knew the boy well. Trass was the son of a famous blacksmith from Great Wyk.
Because he often invented things that looked impressive but were impractical, his father cast him out, forcing him to make his own way.
After wandering across Pyke, Trass learned Theon was recruiting clever smiths. He volunteered, bringing along many sketches he had drawn.
By chance, Theon was out walking his dog when Trass presented the designs. Shocked, he immediately recruited Trass as his subordinate, gifting him the Encyclopedia of Sea Monsters and fifty thousand gold dragons.
And then Theon promptly forgot about him, leaving him to drift within the Department of Machines.
Now, Trass held out a blueprint with an expression that practically shouted, I'm brilliant.
Theon accepted it with curiosity. He wanted to see what made this fifteen-year-old, who already stood over two meters tall, so arrogant.
But when he looked down at the design, then back up in shock, he blurted out, "You made this?!"
"Of course! The first prototype is already complete!" Trass replied, as if begging to be praised.
"Quickly, take me to see it!"
Theon rushed out with him, leaving Andre baffled and unsure what was happening.
The Mogos River, an inland stream on Pyke Island, flowed swift and strong, unsuited for fishing. Few villages dotted its banks, and the population was sparse.
Now, however, a simple structure rose along the river's edge.
Trass led Theon to a machine under assembly. This was the good news he had brought: the first water-powered forging hammer.
After the successful test of the forging machine, which still looked crude and primitive to Theon, it was clear that water-powered drilling and grinding machines would soon follow.
By then, the efficiency of weapon and armor production in the Iron Islands would be vastly improved.
The machine was finally assembled by late afternoon. Under Theon's expectant gaze, the waterwheel turned, and the hammer at the head of the device began to rise and fall in steady rhythm.
"Excellent! Everyone involved in this project will be rewarded with five hundred gold coins each, and Trass will receive one thousand!"
Hearing Theon's announcement, the craftsmen froze in disbelief. Most of these smiths had never seen such wealth in their lives.
Forget five hundred gold dragons, even five hundred silver coins would have been an unimaginable reward.
Yet Theon not only rewarded them generously but also planned to publicize the award across the entire Machinery Bureau, praising Trass's small team by name.
Comparison is always the strongest motivator. For the first time, the workers of the Industrial Equipment Bureau felt that the chance to strike it rich was right before them.
They came from all sorts of artisan backgrounds. After joining the Machinery Bureau, they had been divided into teams and ordered to research all manner of strange inventions at His Majesty's will.
Not only did they labor through incomprehensible experiments by day, but at night they were required to study literacy and arithmetic under scholars.
Thanks to His Majesty's introduction of a simplified system of numerical calculation, they could at least manage, but without it, the work would have been unbearable.
Even so, they earned a salary of fifty silver coins a month, equivalent to one gold dragon every two months, enough to make many grow complacent.
But when word spread that Trass's team had achieved a breakthrough and that each member would receive five hundred gold dragons, the mindset of many shifted overnight.
Theon watched with satisfaction as the Machinery Bureau was "revived," thinking to himself that the money had not been wasted.
He was no fool. He knew the Bureau had been sliding into idleness, so he seized the opportunity to reinvigorate it.
Of course, this was only the beginning. Within a year, the Industrial Equipment Bureau would begin dismissing slackers. Those who remained would form its elite core for the future.
Progress can only be bought with gold. If the nobles of Westeros had invested their wealth into developing their lands instead of letting it gather dust in their castles, the realm would never have remained stuck in a medieval state for eight thousand years.
Once the first hydraulic workshops were completed, the iron ore of Great Wyk grew especially valuable.
Theon dispatched five hundred soldiers to guard the "Mogos Factory," strictly forbidding unauthorized personnel from approaching.
At the same time, large numbers of worker dormitories were built around the site, making the Mogos Factory the first true "iron rice bowl" of the Iron Islands.
Silent transformations were taking place on Pyke, while the nobles of Westeros still busied themselves playing their endless Game of Thrones.
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