Chapter 142: Construction of Helmarte Part 1A
The first week was chaos.
Not the kind born from poor planning, but the kind that inevitably accompanied the beginning of something unprecedented.
Before sunrise each morning, hundreds of wagons entered Helmarte’s eastern district carrying cut stone, structural steel, timber, cement, bricks, cast-iron pipes, copper wiring, and machinery manufactured by Teucher Industrial Group. Long caravans stretched for nearly a kilometer outside the city gates as merchants patiently waited their turn to unload their cargo. Soldiers assigned to traffic control directed the endless procession with military precision, preventing congestion from spilling into the surrounding districts.
By the time the city bells announced seven o’clock, what had once been a quiet residential quarter had become the busiest place in the entire kingdom.
Surveyors moved first, carrying brass theodolites, leveling instruments, measuring chains, and stacks of detailed maps prepared months in advance. Behind them came engineering teams comparing every measurement against Ernest’s master plans before driving wooden stakes into the ground to mark the excavation limits.
Only after the final inspection did construction begin.
Steam whistles echoed across the district as one after another, Teucher Machine Works’ newest steam excavators lurched into motion.
Although primitive compared to the machines Ernest remembered from his previous life, they were nothing short of miraculous by the kingdom’s standards. Thick iron buckets bit into roads that had existed for centuries, tearing through compacted earth with a speed no team of laborers could hope to match.
Behind the excavators came thousands of workers carrying shovels and picks. They widened trenches, removed loose soil, and prepared foundations according to the engineers’ instructions. Every movement followed a carefully organized schedule. Every crew knew exactly where it belonged, and every foreman carried a notebook listing the objectives that had to be completed before the next hourly inspection.
There was no confusion.
Only controlled activity.
Standing atop a temporary observation tower overlooking the eastern district, Ernest watched the reconstruction unfold beneath him.
The entire site resembled a military campaign more than a construction project. Workers assembled in organized formations according to their companies and specialties. Excavation crews labored beside masonry teams, while pipe installers coordinated with steel fabricators, concrete specialists, survey units, mechanical maintenance crews, medical personnel, and supply officers. Even dedicated safety inspectors continuously patrolled the site, correcting unsafe practices before accidents had the chance to occur.
It was an organizational structure Ernest had spent nearly a year designing.
Large projects rarely failed because of engineering.
They failed because of management.
Arthur climbed the wooden staircase carrying a thick leather folder.
"The morning reports."
Ernest accepted it with a nod before opening the folder.
"Thank you."
His eyes moved quickly down the first page.
District East reported 3,486 workers.
District South had 2,924.
The Water Authority had deployed 1,143 personnel, while the Royal Engineers contributed another 812. The Military Engineering Corps had assigned 931 men, private contractors accounted for 4,987 workers, and temporary labor added another 2,321.
He quietly totaled the figures in his head.
Nearly sixteen thousand people had reported for work that morning.
Recruitment offices across the kingdom were still accepting new applications every day.
Hollen climbed onto the observation platform carrying two steaming cups of coffee.
"I thought you’d forget breakfast."
Ernest accepted one with a grateful smile.
"I nearly did."
Hollen stood beside him overlooking the construction site below. His eyebrows slowly climbed as his eyes wandered across the endless sea of activity.
"I’ve managed factories for decades," he said before taking a slow sip. "I’ve never seen anything like this."
Neither had Ernest.
The reconstruction already occupied several square kilometers. Temporary roads had been built solely to transport materials between storage depots and active work zones. Portable steam cranes rotated methodically as they unloaded enormous cast-iron sewer pipes from heavy wagons, while mechanics repaired equipment beneath canvas shelters and blacksmiths forged glowing replacement parts inside portable forges.
It resembled an entire city built for the sole purpose of rebuilding another.
Hollen finally broke the silence.
"You’ve built an army."
Ernest smiled faintly.
"I prefer ’workforce.’"
"The difference?"
"An army destroys."
His gaze drifted across the sprawling construction zone.
"A workforce builds."
Hollen chuckled.
"I should’ve expected an answer like that."
Far below, one of the steam excavators released another sharp whistle before lowering its bucket into the center of King’s Avenue. The massive iron teeth tore effortlessly through the old stone pavement, lifting chunks of granite into waiting wagons while teams of laborers quickly cleared away the remaining debris.
Within minutes, a road that generations of citizens had walked every day simply ceased to exist.
Not everyone appreciated the sight.
An elderly merchant standing behind one of the safety barriers threw both hands into the air.
"They’ve destroyed my street!"
Several nearby citizens nodded in agreement.
One of Ernest’s district engineers approached the man with a patient smile.
"We’re rebuilding it, sir."
"It looked perfectly fine yesterday."
"Did it flood every rainy season?"
The merchant hesitated.
"...Yes."
"Did your cellar fill with water?"
"...Yes."
"Were you connected to the city’s sewer system?"
"No."
"And did your family carry water from the public well every morning?"
The merchant sighed.
"...Yes."
The engineer gestured toward the enormous trench stretching down the avenue.
"Then all we ask is for your patience."
The old merchant stared at the excavation for several long moments before letting out a defeated sigh.
"I suppose... when you put it that way... perhaps the road wasn’t as perfect as I remembered."
Quiet laughter spread through the surrounding crowd.
Farther down the barrier, a group of children watched the steam excavators with wide eyes.
One little boy tugged excitedly at his father’s sleeve.
"Father! The machine is eating the road!"
His father laughed.
"It certainly looks that way."
Another child pointed toward a massive crane lowering a section of cast-iron pipe into the trench.
"Is that for the water?"
An elderly worker happened to overhear the question.
"No," he said with a smile. "That’s the sewer. The clean water pipes will go above it."
The children stared in amazement.
"There are going to be pipes under the whole city?"
"There will be."
The old worker nodded proudly.
"For the first time."
By the end of the first month, eastern Helmarte had changed so dramatically that many visitors scarcely recognized it.
Entire streets had vanished beneath deep trenches. Temporary wooden bridges linked neighborhoods separated by excavation zones, while construction fences stretched for kilometers, each bearing neatly painted signs identifying the contractor responsible for that section.
HELMARTE CAPITAL INFRASTRUCTURE AUTHORITY
SECTION A-12
PRIMARY SEWER INSTALLATION
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
Behind every fence, work continued without pause.
The temporary field offices had evolved into fully functioning administrative centers. Engineers reviewed drawings inside canvas tents filled with drafting tables while clerks documented material deliveries from sunrise until sunset. Medical stations treated everything from scraped hands to heat exhaustion, portable kitchens prepared nearly twenty thousand meals every day, and warehouses tracked inventory with remarkable efficiency using Ernest’s standardized logistics system.
Nothing happened without documentation.
Nothing moved without authorization.
Nothing was installed without inspection.
One afternoon, Ernest descended into one of the main excavation corridors accompanied by Chief Engineer Wallace and several Royal Engineers.
Nearly five meters below street level, the city looked completely different.
Layer after layer of Helmarte’s past had been exposed. Ancient stone foundations rested beside abandoned wells and collapsed brick drainage channels. Rotting timber supports installed generations ago lay buried beneath the streets, while forgotten tunnels whose original purpose had long been lost to history emerged from the earth once more.
Wallace knelt beside a badly damaged drainage culvert and shook his head.
"If we’d simply resurfaced the road, this would’ve collapsed within a few years."
He tapped the crumbling brickwork with the toe of his boot.
"The road above would’ve sunk with it."
Another Royal Engineer nodded.
"I agree."
Ernest folded his arms.
"That’s why we rebuild from the foundation, not the surface."
Wallace looked upward toward the crews working tirelessly above them before a slow smile spread across his face.
"I finally understand why you insisted on excavating everything. At first I thought you were being overly ambitious."
"And now?"
Wallace let out a quiet laugh.
"Now I think we weren’t ambitious enough."
Ernest couldn’t help smiling.
That single sentence told him everything he needed to know.
The engineers had stopped thinking like builders.
They had started thinking like city planners.
And that transformation was every bit as important as rebuilding Helmarte itself.