To Arthur von Pendelton, the true measure of a civilization was not its military might or its magical prowess. It was how it handled its waste.
Valoria failed this test miserably.
The "Chamber Pot" was a barbarism Arthur refused to accept. The "Outhouse" was a freezing, smelly wooden shed over a pit.
"It is a biological hazard," Arthur muttered, pinching his nose as he walked past the servants' latrines. "Methane buildup. Pathogen vectors. And flies. So many flies."
He marched to the estate's pottery kiln. He needed ceramics.
The S-Trap Revolution
The Potter, a nervous man named Clay (nominative determinism was strong in this world), looked at the blueprint Arthur had drawn in the dirt.
"A pipe... that curves up?" Clay scratched his head. "Young Master, water flows down. If it curves up, the water stops."
"Exactly," Arthur said, his eyes gleaming with the light of sanitation. "It traps a small amount of water in the bend. This water acts as a seal. It prevents the... vapors... from the sewer from coming back up."
Clay stared. "You mean the Ghost Smells? You found a way to trap the Ghost Smells?"
"If by Ghost Smells, you mean Hydrogen Sulfide, then yes. I am exorcising the demon of stench."
Arthur pointed to the main diagram. It was majestic. A smooth, white, ceramic bowl with a tank mounted above it.
"I need this glazed," Arthur commanded. "Super-smooth. Friction is the enemy here. Nothing must stick. Do you understand? Nothing."
Clay nodded vigorously. "I will glaze it like the King's dinner plate!"
The Gravity Problem
While Clay worked on the "Throne," Arthur directed his construction crew—now affectionately called "The Yellow Helmets"—to the roof of the manor.
"We need head pressure!" Arthur shouted over the wind. "Water needs to fall to create the kinetic energy required for the flush!"
They built a massive wooden tank on the roof, reinforcing the beams to hold the weight. He connected it to the river pump he'd designed earlier (powered by a water wheel).
The maids watched in horror as copper pipes were drilled through the ceiling of the guest bathroom.
"He's bringing the river into the house," Marie whispered, making a sign of protection. "If it bursts, we'll drown in our sleep."
The Inauguration
Three days later, the Pendelton WC (Water Closet) Mark I was ready.
It sat in a newly renovated room. Tiled floors (easy to mop). Ventilation fan (powered by a small wind mana crystal). And in the center: The Throne.
It was gleaming white porcelain. It had a polished mahogany seat. It looked important.
The Duke, Duchess, and Hammerhead the Dwarf stood outside the open door.
"It looks..." The Duke tilted his head. "Regal. Is it a shrine?"
"It is a defecation station," Arthur corrected. "Observe."
Arthur walked up to the device. He poured a bucket of mud into the bowl to simulate... well, usage.
"The waste sits there," Arthur narrated. "Disgusting. Unhygienic. Now, watch."
He reached up and pulled the chain connected to the overhead tank.
WHOOSH.
The sound was like a sudden, controlled waterfall. A violent vortex of water swirled into the bowl, grabbed the mud, and sucked it down the throat of the toilet with a satisfying GURGLE.
The water in the bowl settled back to a crystal-clear calm. The mud was gone.
The room was silent.
"Where did it go?" The Duchess asked, eyes wide.
"To the septic tank I buried three hundred yards away in the woods," Arthur explained. "Gone. Instantly."
The Duke approached the toilet slowly. He peered into the bowl. He looked at Arthur.
"You have harnessed the power of a whirlpool," The Duke whispered. "You command the tides to wash away our filth."
"It's just gravity, Father."
"It's a masterpiece!" The Duke roared. "We must have them in every room! No, every hallway! I want to flush everything!"
The Business Expansion
Two weeks later, the rumor of the "Pendelton Throne" had spread.
Arthur sat in his office (formerly the nursery), reviewing the production schedule. He had a problem. He had made the toilet too good.
Lord Greymont, a visiting noble, had used the guest bathroom. He had emerged twenty minutes later, weeping. He claimed it was the most spiritual experience of his life. He offered 500 Gold Coins for one.
[System Notification: Luxury Market Unlocked.] [Product: The Porcelain Throne.] [Status: Highly Desirable Status Symbol.]
Arthur tapped his quill on the desk.
"If we sell the toilets," Arthur mused to his new assistant, a sharp-witted village girl named Sarah whom he had promoted from the road crew. "We also need to sell the infrastructure. A toilet without a water tower is just a fancy bucket."
"We can sell 'Installation Packages'," Sarah suggested. She was learning fast. "The Platinum Package includes the tower, the piping, and a monthly maintenance contract."
Arthur nodded. "Good. But we are missing a revenue stream. What do people do while sitting on the Throne?"
Sarah blinked. "Stare at the door? Contemplate their sins?"
Arthur sighed. "Boredom is inefficient. We need... content."
He pulled out a new blueprint.
"Paper," Arthur said. "But not parchment. Soft paper. Disposable paper. And perhaps... reading material."
[Blueprint Created: 3-Ply Soft Tissue.] [Blueprint Created: 'The Daily Valoria' - The World's First Newspaper.]
Arthur looked out the window. The road was paved. The windows were insulated. The toilets flushed.
Stage 1 complete, he thought. Basic sanitation achieved.
Now, to ruin the local economy with Monopoly.
"Sarah," Arthur said. "Fetch the carpenters. I have an idea for a game. It involves buying real estate and destroying your friendships. I call it 'Landlord'."
Sarah shivered. "It sounds evil, Young Master."
"It is," Arthur agreed. "It will make us millions."
End of Chapter 5
Current Status (Age: 6 Years, 8 Months)
Wealth: Rising rapidly (Glass licensing + Toilet "Platinum Packages").
Reputation: "The Young Sage of Comfort" (Public) / "The Small Monster" (Merchants).
Infrastructure: Paved roads, Indoor Plumbing, Glass Windows.