I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

“Unbelievable, why are the people here like this?”

The crowd arrived at the lord’s mansion.

It had long been abandoned, allowing them to occupy it with ease.

Graf dismounted but did not enter.

Instead, he turned around and stood at the entrance of the mansion, watching the long line of troops marching into the city.

They were surrounded by civilians.

From time to time, soldiers would be given little trinkets by the people, which startled them into hurriedly shoving the gifts back.

The burning gazes of the military police riding through on horseback and their own sergeants were far too frightening.

The Sergeant Major chuckled and said: “Actually, this is quite normal.

Commander Mitia once explained, these people are likely the middle class whose assets shrank drastically, as well as ordinary citizens who went bankrupt.”

At the mention of Mitia, his eyes shone with fervor: “And the war we are waging now is a just one! We are rescuing these people who have fallen into dire suffering! Our goal is to let everyone live a good life together!”

“Long live Mitia!!”

“Long live Mitia!!!”

His shouting ignited the soldiers and the civilians present, and everyone cried out madly.

In any domain, as long as a steam-powered assembly line factory appeared in one industry, it could squeeze out and seize the entire market of all related industries within the domain.

Their manufacturing costs were on a completely different level—and usually, there was more than one such factory.

The machines required large numbers of workers to operate, and the small handcraft workshops that were driven into bankruptcy could only enter the factories as laborers.

But industrial efficiency was far too high, surpassing what the local population could bear.

Coupled with the difficulty of winter transportation and the blind overexpansion of noble merchants, this led to severe overcapacity.

Massive quantities of goods piled up unsold, forcing factories to shut down and leaving workers unemployed and without income.

Previously, Mitia’s strategy of raising the value of cotton and other cash crops had caused many manor lords to replace grain fields with cotton and hemp fiber plants.

Now that both sides had entered a state of war, these raw materials could no longer be sold at all.

Even the cotton mills in their own territory had collapsed, as the unemployed workers could no longer afford to consume.

And the previous craze for planting cash crops, along with reduced grain production, had brought about a certain degree of food shortage, driving food prices to soar.

The property of even the relatively well-off middle class shrank drastically in this upheaval.

Truth be told, even if the Astal Family had not attacked, given another month or so Alos would have collapsed anyway.

They had never understood these problems, much less solved them.

And those who went bankrupt were not slaves.

If pushed too far, they could buy a musket on the black market and ambush you.

Rebellion was but a single thought away.

At this time, Mitia’s offensive was undoubtedly the heaviest weight placed upon the balance scale within their hearts.

The people’s hearts inevitably tilted fully toward her.

On the plaza before the lord’s mansion, Graf declared that Alos had entered a state of wartime military control, and began integrating all resources of Alos according to plan.

First, the two divisions of troops were split into companies and dispatched throughout the territory to sweep through the noble manor lords’ families for public trials.

Their assets were confiscated.

The guilty were paraded and executed; the innocent were sentenced to labor.

Maps were unnecessary—many enthusiastic villagers led the way along the routes.

There was essentially no one who managed to escape or hide.

Next came land reform, abolishing all previous taxation policies of Alos and replacing them with progressive taxes.

All land in Alos was unconditionally confiscated and handed over.

For now, it belonged to those who cultivated it, with detailed planning to follow once new officials were appointed.

A large number of unregistered slaves were also freed.

The small minority who had only recently been degraded into slavery and still retained their humanity had their registrations restored directly, requiring no further intervention.

As for the slaves who had been oppressed for years and grown numb, the Astal Family did not abandon them either.

They were all sent to construction sites to build new homes.

They were provided with food and clothing, their workload was reduced, and every night sergeants gave them lessons.

One day, they would recover.

Factory resources were also fully reclaimed, integrated, and tallied.

When large amounts of grain and wealth had been continuously transported from across the territory to the lord’s mansion, Graf—after consulting with Mitia—began relief efforts, though not through free handouts.

The currently operational factories raised wages and benefits, even paying out one month of living expenses in advance.

The large number of unemployed were instead assigned new jobs under the lord’s mansion’s arrangements, where they likewise received the same benefits.

Alos had vast needs for railways and cement roads to be built.

This created enormous demand for machines and factories, generating many more jobs.

The previously oversupplied raw cotton and textile mills were able to resume production, mass-producing cotton clothes for workers.

The blacksmith workshops also received immense orders for tools.

If there was no demand, demand would be created.

If there was no capital, they borrowed it from the noble manors.

Anyone who threatened social order was punished severely, swiftly, and heavily.

Noble purges, public trials, land nationalization, slave reform, work-for-relief—five measures all pressed forward, collectively known as the 【Mitia New Deal】.

Royal Capital of Ovinia

“Bang! Crash—”

Ovinia III finished reading the report in his hand and kicked the table hard, overturning it.

The exquisite dishes on it spilled to the ground.

Looking at the kneeling Alos general, he snatched up the golden wine jug held by a maid nearby and hurled it at him:

“Why did you come back? You didn’t defend your territory. Now your home is gone, so why did you return?! Why didn’t you fight to the death?!”

“Thirty thousand men, a full thirty thousand troops! Along with thirty thousand in the frontline fortress, that’s sixty thousand lost! How could a general flee from battle? Do you have a pig’s brain?!”

Gilman Alos, half-kneeling on the ground, dodged the wine jug.

His face flushed as he raised his head: “As long as I am here, the Alos Family will remain!”

“You—!”

Ovinia III clutched his chest, desperately suppressing the urge to vomit blood.

With Astal’s style, your entire family had already been stripped clean—what use was a lone survivor still calling it a family?

Barely holding back his anger, he turned to the chief guard on the other side: “What about the people of Bria and Dongvil? Any news?”

“Yes… none escaped, they were all annihilated…”

“How many days? How many days has it been! In less than a week you’ve lost two fiefs, allowing the enemy to push their army right to the gates of the capital—what are you even good for?!”

The chief guard wore a troubled expression: “Your Majesty, the enemy’s cannon fire was too fierce. Our soldiers simply couldn’t withstand such an assault. And our artillery units are still in Lalor and have not set out yet…”

“Then don’t send them—deploy them all on Lalor’s walls! Even if everyone dies, that city must not fall!”

“Go tell those counts in the rear to send supplies and soldiers to Lalor as quickly as possible! If Lalor is lost, the capital will be the frontline! If I perish, what kind of nobles would they still be?!”

“As you command!”

Ovinia III had shown a strong interest in artillery ever since he first learned of it, but unlike Mitia, he was an artillery fanatic.

The cannon Mitia produced in the early days weighed over twenty tons and was almost immovable.

Ovinia III was even more extreme—he believed the bigger the cannon, the better.

Thus, under his orders, the royal craftsmen built him heavy artillery that completely surpassed Mitia’s original design.

The barrel caliber had been increased again, but the weight also reached forty tons…

They somehow managed to transport these things to Lalor.

If Mitia were to see it, she would definitely remark: truly impressive.