The north wind still carried the bitter chill of late winter as it howled across the Northern Wilderness. Yet mingled within it was the damp scent of thawing earth, and... a clamor unlike the dead silence of previous years.
A newly repaired rammed-earth road wound through the newly controlled regions of Carnford Territory like the fresh veins of the land.
Karl reined in his warhorse and stopped by the roadside, his gaze sweeping over this project that was changing the face of the north. The road had been built in the most practical and efficient manner: its foundation deeply excavated, then repeatedly compacted with massive stone rollers and human labor. On better stretches, a layer of fine gravel had been laid beneath to strengthen load-bearing capacity and drainage.
Newly dug drainage ditches ran straight along both sides of the road, preventing meltwater in spring and summer rains from soaking the roadbed. It looked plain enough, yet it was wide, level, and sturdy—enough to allow heavily laden wagons and formations of cavalry to pass swiftly.
The road itself was a symbol of vitality. New tunbao and settlements were springing up along both sides like bamboo shoots after rain. Refugees had been organized into work crews, earning relief through labor as they helped build the roads.
Karl knew well that simply handing out relief grain could only solve an immediate crisis, and might even breed idleness.
Providing jobs and wages not only completed infrastructure construction, but also gave the refugees income and purchasing power, setting the fledgling market within the territory in motion.
These roads linked new pastures, tunbao, workshops, and docks, greatly accelerating the movement of goods, people, and information. Commerce flourished in turn, while the army's mobility and supply capacity underwent a qualitative leap.
Every inch of road stretching forward