The Empire I Create Chapter 14
Chapter 14. Tamna Initiates an Industrial Revolution
Seven months of effort had finally paid off. Under Optimus Miji’s leadership, the farming team managed to continuously cultivate radishes, potatoes, and corn—even in Tamna’s relatively barren soil. Thanks to the superior qualities of 21st-century seeds, which were “resistant to drought and could withstand pests to some extent,” these crops were sown far and wide. As harvests increased, more seeds spread across Tamna, heralding a new era of abundance unimaginable just six months prior.
Because radishes and potatoes have short growing cycles, some farmers already managed two or more harvests. Corn, rich in calories and perfect for animal feed, created a powerful synergy with livestock farming. At the current rate of success, the phrase “going hungry” would soon sound like a joke, and Tamna was gradually becoming a land of plenty.
Raising livestock—cattle, pigs, horses, chickens—boomed as well. Harvested corn and other crops served as feed, allowing farms to expand. Meanwhile, the growing number of horses and oxen greatly improved both farming efficiency and transport. If everything went according to Hamin’s vision, within a year or two, there would be plenty of protein from slaughtering livestock, giving people a much better nutritional intake.
Optimus Deme, in charge of fishing, used drones to precisely locate schools of fish out at sea. Even in stormy or overcast weather, the drone cameras and sensors tracked fish movements. When they detected large concentrations in a particular area, they sent that information back to the waiting fishermen at the harbor.
Boats headed straight to Deme’s designated coordinates, quickly filling their nets and returning to port. Thanks to these bountiful catches each time, seafood became a common sight on Tamna’s dinner tables. Some was also sent to the mainland as tribute or sold in trade with Japan.
With the arrival of fall, cold ocean currents increased fish stocks even more—a fact well understood by modern science. But to people in the 13th century, it was simply “the grace of heaven.” In reality, it was all thanks to drones and Deme’s advanced system.
Optimus Kra (Kratos) launched Tamna’s first forays into hydro- and wind-power generation. Waterwheels and windmills scattered across Tamna were upgraded to connect with small generators. Solar panels were even integrated, so Thanos, the drones, and the Optimus units would no longer rely solely on the small nuclear reactor for energy but could partially power themselves.
Optimus Hade (Hades) led the minerals team in searching beneath coastal cliffs and within volcanic rock regions around Tamna. They found deposits of iron ore, iron sand, and sulfur. Led by Hepa and his group of blacksmiths, they began producing steam engine and cannon components bit by bit—technology that should have been at least two or three centuries ahead of its time, now emerging in 13th-century Tamna.
Reflecting on this, Hamin thought, “Not long ago, these people only knew swords and spears. And now they’re crafting steam engines and cannon parts… The pace of change is unbelievable.”
Yet this was the result of the meticulous guidance from Thanos and the Optimus units, combined with the diligence of Tamna’s residents.
Perhaps the biggest driver behind Tamna’s rapid transformation was expanding trade with Japan. Under Meti’s direction, the trade team processed tangerines (gamgyul) into jams, teas, liquors, cookies, and breads. Following Thanos’s marketing strategies, they packaged these products beautifully in ceramics or traditional containers, establishing a new “Tamna” brand.
Decorative packaging with unique patterns and ceramic bottles adorned with illustrations immediately caught the eye of Japanese merchants. They thirsted for “sweetness” and “fruit flavor,” and these new Tamna-made goods targeted those cravings perfectly.
In an era when sugar was scarce, sugar-based cookies and bread were more precious than gold among Japanese merchants and nobles. Even at high prices, word spread that these delicacies were “incredibly tasty,” attracting more and more trading ships from Japan. In particular, the Shoni clan, the shugo (military governor) of the Kyushu region, became a loyal customer. Each shipment was offered to them as tribute, fostering a favorable relationship.
Hamin’s group sold tangerine products, liquor, and bread to Japan in exchange for iron ore and coal. Until they could secure iron on the mainland, trading with Japan solved their immediate need. Kyushu, famed for Tatara steelmaking, provided the materials needed to power weapon production, blacksmithing, and the development of steam engines.
Before long, Hamin tried out a new idea.
“Thanos, give me realistic paintings—like a scenic view of Tamna, galloping horses, or a girl laughing in a flower garden. Print them in color.”
These illustrations, credited to “Thanos the Artist,” were unlike anything people in the 13th century had ever seen, both for their detail and vibrant hues. Japanese merchants called them “enchanted pictures” and began auctioning them at staggering prices—one painting alone was traded for a month’s worth of iron ore.
What began with artistic packaging had now advanced to full-fledged artwork.
As a single painting fetched more and more from Japanese nobles, “Thanos the Artist” grew more famous by the day.
Meanwhile, Optimus Are (Ares), in charge of weaponry, finally perfected the ratio for black-powder gunpowder. Production of bullets and cannon shells also became possible. Historically, it wasn’t until the late Goryeo period that gunpowder-based weapons found real use, but under Hamin’s leadership, “cannons” and “shells” were already under development in the 13th century.
“A cannon age arriving centuries too soon…”
Although Hamin hoped never to use them, he realized they needed a deterrent if they were to survive potential threats from Mongol forces or the mainland. The irony that “one needs weapons to ensure peace” had echoed throughout history, and this era was no exception.
Optimus Pose (Poseidon), in charge of shipbuilding, worked tirelessly to design steam-powered vessels using Tamna timber, along with iron and coal imported from Japan. They envisioned a “hybrid” ship capable of navigating shallow coasts as well as ocean voyages—essentially 19th-century technology taking shape in 13th-century Tamna.
Actual construction would take time, but a small prototype steam engine had already been tested successfully, burning coal to produce steam that turned a propeller (or paddle wheels).
Optimus Jeu (Zeus) handled the training of soldiers and introduced tactics. Within seven months, Tamna’s local forces—once lightly armed—learned basic marksmanship (crossbows), drills, and drone-assisted strategies. They still had a long way to go before they could stand up to Mongol cavalry, but at least they would no longer be overrun as easily as before.
Yi Jigwang, Tamna’s Anchalsa (inspector), felt deeply moved. “Even if the mainland tries to suppress us or the Mongols come crashing in, now we at least have some means to fight back.”
So far, the mainland government had mostly ignored Tamna’s development, so long as the taxes kept flowing. In the meantime, Tamna had surged forward on its own.
Increasingly well-fed and prosperous, the islanders believed that “the gods are helping Tamna.” Of course, it was really the fruits of Hamin, the Optimus units, and Thanos—the materials, techniques, and systems they introduced. But from a 13th-century perspective, it was nothing short of a miracle.
Rumors spread like wildfire: “Sky-born goblins (robots) are saving Tamna,” taking on a quasi-religious tone.
Indeed, Yi Jigwang reassured his people by declaring, “I act under the authority of the Supreme Lord who descended from heaven.” To the central government, he simply kept up appearances, managing not to reveal the island’s dramatic changes but cleverly maintaining the status quo.
One autumn evening, Hamin—now dressed in Goryeo-era clothing and wearing a hat to shield his face from the sun—no longer stood out quite as much. He had begun to understand Goryeo Korean to some degree, and Yi Jigwang had grown accustomed to Hamin’s way of speaking and to Hangul itself, allowing them to talk more directly. Sharing drinks, they conversed well into the night.
During these talks, Hamin learned that Yi Jigwang was the son of Yi Gyubo, one of the Goryeo dynasty’s most influential figures. Yi Jigwang had studied abroad in Song China, where he grasped the critical importance of science and technology. Having suffered through the military regime and Mongol invasions, he grew disillusioned with the Goryeo court, which was obsessed only with holding onto power. Sensing the danger, his father Yi Gyubo had maneuvered him into a role as Tamna’s Anchalsa—essentially banishment or exile—to protect him from the military regime and the Mongols. Outwardly, Yi Jigwang pretended obedience to the central government but was tormented by how many common people were sacrificed.
Through these conversations, Hamin realized that Yi Jigwang, who now addressed him as a “Heavenly Lord,” admired him with near-religious reverence and firmly believed Hamin was “destined to rule all under heaven.” Yi Jigwang considered himself a mere grain of wheat, wanting only to aid Hamin’s grand destiny.
Thanos served as translator whenever Hamin and Yi Jigwang didn’t fully understand each other’s terms, bridging 13th-century and modern language. The two men clinked glasses, slowly opening their hearts.
Somewhat tipsy, Hamin finally asked, “Anchalsa, in the months you’ve observed me, what sort of person do you think I am? And what do you believe my dream might be?”
Yi Jigwang nodded thoughtfully.
“To me, you are the ‘Heavenly Lord’ descended from above… destined to reign over all. I see you as someone with unimaginable power.”
Hamin gave a wry smile. “Destined to reign over all,” he mused. He had only wanted to help humanity avoid a hellish future, yet from the viewpoint of this era, he indeed appeared as something beyond normal comprehension.
“Let’s have another drink,” Yi Jigwang said, raising his cup. “It’s an honor to have met you, my Lord.”
They toasted once more. Beneath the autumn moonlight, the night of Tamna wore on. On this small island—developing faster by the day—destiny was about to shift yet again.
