Warhammer: Start with a dog

*This chapter is a transitional data, and it would be a bit boring if you listed a lot of dishes (?)

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Now, the Iron Lord's tent was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Even the most unruly - oh, sorry, the most unruly heads were placed there - even the most stubborn old philosophers were sitting there obediently and upright.

Or it would be better to say that the smartest and most knowledgeable among these former top leaders of their respective city-states now sat particularly upright and their body language was particularly urgent and serious.

Everyone's eyes were closely following the ever-changing content on a large screen that was rising behind the throne.

The above is what the Iron Lord has privately asked the most reliable among his heirs to do since he returned to Olympia when others thought he was just sitting back and building the camp.

The demonstration was formed by a large amount of first-hand data obtained through multi-orbit mapping, field measurements with Thunderhawks and Stormbirds, exchanges with farmers, merchants and the lower classes, and understanding of the trading market - thanks to the fact that they also had some Seleucid breastplate soldiers on board, from whom they selected men and women to dress up as couples, and then put on casual clothes and pretend to be travelers from afar to enter the city's periphery and small towns.

These raw data were counted, analyzed, calculated, and verified by the war blacksmiths and company commanders who did not receive the mission of breaking into the city, who worked overtime in the form of a Dalian competition. Finally, they presented very intuitive and easy-to-understand charts - a large number of clear, beautiful, and precise bar charts, line charts, scatter charts, flow charts, point maps, and heat maps, turning all the numerous and complex data into visual images, which changed in front of everyone as Ramizarn explained.

Even Kelly Fanny, who had decided to observe first, could not resist. She squatted on the chair so that her uncomfortable lumbar spine would feel better. Then she lifted her eyelids, which had become weak and droopy due to old age, and carefully watched and listened to the explanation of the contents on the holographic screen behind the Lord of Steel.

“…I won’t talk about energy and industrial indicators…Okay, I can’t help it, I’ll talk about it anyway!

Damn it, the power generation capacity... Your current power plants were built for you by the Mechanicum one hundred and fifty to one hundred years ago, and their scale is very limited. Their power is only enough to supply specific residences and areas, as well as factories designated to produce products for the Legion. Obviously, there are obvious deliberate problems in the decision-making of the planners in the construction of the power plants;

And the steel production… Well, see, I can’t get the previous figures on steel production, but from the number of mines and blast furnaces that can be seen, and from the reports of the officers we sent here to collect resources, it is clear that they are not enough;

Another roar came from a distant place: She is setting a trap for you! Damn it! I never wrote those designs in the alien language! At most, they were some invented characters, abbreviations or scribbled!

Of course, no one here could hear this roar that was filled with anger and a hint of panic.

But Ramizar gave the old woman a blessed look and replied, “That’s because I wrote too quickly, using some shorthand symbols and cursive.” He paused, as if choosing a title for her, and then he avoided the part that required a title.

"...Surprisingly, there has been no progress. Has the technological development of Rocks been ridiculously dependent on me for so many years? What about others? What about other talented people?...Well, I probably understand why you don't look like the home world of a legion galloping across the stars in many ways. Okay, I know, ma'am, some conversation, but not now."

The Lord of Steel stopped Kelly Fanny who was about to speak with a look. The latter raised her eyebrows that she had to paint because of her old age and began to look at "Perturabo" again.

Ramizane pretended not to notice her cautious gaze and continued talking to himself.

"I haven't had time to calculate the proportion of labor in agriculture, so I must emphasize two points first: the efficiency ratio and the ratio of cultivated land area to output. The taxation and military supply of the legion are required in proportion. I can only assume that there are no major problems. Then, the cultivated land area calculated from high-altitude remote sensing may seem fragmentary, but the total amount is still considerable. Time is limited. A rough calculation shows that there are at least 8 billion mu of land in the arable climate zone that meets the development requirements. Excluding some land that is really unsuitable, there are still 7 billion mu of land - but how many people do you feed with it?"

At this point, thinking of the 1.8 billion, 2.4 billion, and 2.5 billion, Ramizarn knocked on the table in front of him in frustration, "7 billion acres of arable land! And according to the official statistical report I just obtained, there are only less than 10 million people here! Even if they just cultivate the land casually, it wouldn't be like this! Why let such a large area of ​​good land go to waste? No one! Really no one. When I recruited the sons of Olympia, I thought you would at least not live any worse than when I left, but what happened? Tell me for yourselves, how many unnecessary lives have been consumed in your new round of civil war in the three months since Damikos' death?!"

"You can't say that! My Lord! The noble battles and gladiatorial contests between city-states are a tradition that has existed since ancient times! Even the former Governor respected this tradition! Power is always redistributed between city-states in this way! The winner takes all, and the loser eats dust..."

The speaker's voice became softer and softer. Frastu of Sarres rolled his eyes and sneered at this fat-headed guy, his contempt obvious.

Then the old scholar turned to the Iron King at the top. "Your Excellency," he said, his greeting seeming much more sincere this time. "These data, statistics, and charts are very, very meaningful... Just by looking at them once, I can see that the answers to many previously puzzled questions are waving at me. I dare to ask, how can you share these valuable data with us?"

"You seem much more rational and... much more pleasing to my eyes, Vlastu," the Lord of Steel replied, "so you are a person who is truly willing to delve into research. If your record is clean after investigation, then if you are willing to work for my government in the future, I can open these databases to you, as well as the access to aircraft and escort personnel, and you can also take a salary home. What do you think?"

Such a pie-in-the-sky gift package was slammed onto the old philosopher's face, making the scholar, who had just been about to rush over to hit someone, look a little embarrassed. Dozens of people behind him were staring at him. "...Maybe later...I'll consider it, sir. I promise you I will consider it."

"So..." Ramizane raised his voice, "When my descendants and investigators investigated more deeply, I found that there were no large chemical plants in this place except for a series of industries producing ammunition and fuel! So, there are no fertilizers! No pesticides! Even if there were manpower, the output would not be much! The steel mills here produce molten iron every day, and the sound of steam hammers in the forging workshop resounds through the sky, but what are they making? Is there a tractor, large plowshare, seed drill, irrigation equipment or combine harvester coming out of it?! No! Not a single one! What is continuously produced from the factory is a war monster, tanks, troop carriers, automatic turrets, autonomous turrets, guns and hammer swords."

"Indeed, it is they who have supported us in many operations over the past century and a half," he said in a low voice. "I am not afraid to let you know that the relationship between me and the members of the Mechanicus is quite...stiff. Without your support, our operations would not have been so sustainable. Therefore, on behalf of myself and my descendants, I would like to thank you for the reliable equipment you have sent to support our countless operations - (all the Iron Warriors who could hear this sentence showed a dreamy and dull look on their faces) But the situation cannot continue like this."

"First of all, all the land in Olympia, especially those belonging to various tyrants and nobles, must be re-measured and returned to the Legion. The owners of the land, as I said, will be examined, and those who should be tried will be tried. Those who should be given a new job will be given a ransom and a new job according to their ability. The Iron Warriors will not let the bad guys get away, the good guys be wronged, or the innocent people starve to death."

He looked at everyone sternly. "The land must be cultivated according to the Corps plan to improve the efficiency of farming and resource allocation. I have seen your physical land samples. Such small-scale, scattered, unplanned and mutually unreciprocal farming production cannot increase per-acre yields or greatly improve farming and harvesting efficiency. The degree of reclamation of these lands is also different. They must all use large agricultural machinery for production. This is much better than your original farming method."

"But, but if we want to use machinery for farming, sir, we don't have enough drivers here!"

"Of course I know there's a shortage of people here - a shortage of men, a shortage of strong laborers, a shortage of operators who can operate large agricultural and industrial machinery, right?"

"So, the second thing I want to announce is the second follow-up plan. Next, I will accept applications from all families in Olympia who have contributed their boys. I will return all the Iron Warriors who still have bloodlines, and they will return to their hometown villages or cities with iron livestock and more advanced farming techniques. The rest will also enter factories or other facilities and take turns to produce food, machinery and construction for their families and Olympia in the next at least 20 farming seasons."

"Build what? New walls or defensive batteries, my lord?"

"Neither. I have many of the most magnificent and magnificent blueprints here, as well as the most brilliant work ideas (a dog snorted in the future time and space). I will ask my descendants to build daily chemical factories, clothing factories, light industrial supporting facilities, or anything else that is lacking here. Their work efficiency and skills in using machinery are much better than mortals. Vlastu, you will see how exquisite, sublime, and practical the things that the sons of Olympia have learned on the starry sea are, in addition to the skills of killing and fighting."

The old philosopher listened to the Lord of Steel's speech with a frown on his brow. This time it was his turn to stop others from trying.

He walked to the Iron Lord's throne and bowed.

"If you can really fulfill your promise in Olympia in the next twenty years, then I think it would be nice to have my land confiscated and work for you."

The old man stood up straight. “But can you promise to do it?”

"Enough!" Fricks roared, his voice bursting out violently from the power armor's sound grid, making the old man's hair flutter. "How can you doubt the power before you?! What has happened to Olympia now!" He said in anger, "We gave you the right to accept it freely! You should all be grateful! People of Olympia! You have been unpunished for too long!"

"…Uh…Fricks."

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"My lord, I should not have spoken before you. I am willing to plead guilty." The Head of the Trident turned around immediately. Although the design of the Iron Knight Power Armor made it difficult for him to move, he still forced himself to kneel on one knee, submitting to a stronger and higher-ranking person like a giant of his size.

This made the people in the tent who had just started to talk quiet down again.

"We'll talk about your treatment later." The ice-blue eyes sternly glanced at the loyal captain of the first company, "The third thing I want to announce is that all eligible children, regardless of gender, will be counted and enlisted on the spot this time."

Now almost everyone stood up, even Kelly Fanny began to change color.

“…so that they can be sent to schools uniformly to receive compulsory education.”

"Compulsory education? Schools? Who runs them? We don't have the funds or enough teachers here! Scholars have their own followers and academies, which are not accessible to ordinary children, let alone all..."

"The new school opened in the name of the Legion will be built. My warrior-poets will serve as teachers there," Ramizane said calmly. "Although many of them have become weak in the previous battles against the aliens, they are still among the best teachers in our Legion, and they will be equally patient with the children."

"As for funds? Do you think I, a prince of the Galactic Empire (a dog sneered) would be short of funds? I am my best guarantee! Rich people, looking at the starships and weapons of destruction I control, did my amiable speech just now bring back your nature? Then, looking at the steel fleet above our heads, tell me, do I need more guarantees besides me and my reputation?"

No one dared to respond.

"After the oldest of these children graduate," he said to himself, "they will go to the factory, where my descendants who have been working for a while will teach these new apprentices how to use, maintain and manufacture machinery according to their respective specialties. When all the technicians of this generation have grown up, this group of soldiers can return to my legion."

"This is my initial plan. What do you think?"

No one spoke, and it seemed that some were hesitant in trying to get more commitments.

"Locks accepts. He will immediately submit to the new rule of the Legion."

Kelly Fannie suddenly spoke these words in her most authoritative voice.

Immediately, two voices sounded almost simultaneously: "Akos accepts!" "Sares accepts!"