The Hungry Fortress Wants to Build a Battleship in Another World – World of Sandbox

Fratara City.
Located northeast of the Five Lakes, it serves as a hub city connected by roads to Wheat Hill City to the north, West Gate City to the west, East Gate City to the east, and Iron Town and Telek Port City to the south.

Due to its nature as a trade hub, it has fewer producers and more merchants, innkeepers, and food vendors. The city relies heavily on imported food, with only about a third of its population able to sustain themselves through local production.
It’s said that if trade were to halt, most of the city’s population would starve—a town completely dependent on imports.
However, as the civil war worsened in recent years, Fratara City faced increasingly dire circumstances.

Even during wartime, trade caravans typically continued operating. While there were rules, such as avoiding direct routes between hostile territories, trade remained the lifeblood of the kingdom. Stopping it would slowly cause the entire nation to wither. For the first few years, caravans still came and went, business as usual.
But as the civil war dragged on, the number of caravans dwindled.
The main reason was forced confiscations by desperate lords. With constant troop deployments, many rulers resorted to seizing the cargo of caravans without compensation. In some cases, merchants who resisted were stripped of all their belongings—or even executed.

Naturally, merchants began avoiding such territories. As a result, logistics broke down, forcing some lords into raiding wars to survive.
With battles spreading, civilians also suffered. Starving soldiers often turned to banditry, making safety impossible to guarantee. At that point, even civilians fled, abandoning their homes to seek safer lands.
This cycle repeated across regions, gradually erasing trade routes and isolating territories. Wealthier cities could organize protected caravans, but the costs made them unsustainable. Cities like Fratara, dependent on imports, faced the worst outcomes.

Despite its struggles, Fratara City fared better than most.
Wheat Hill City was a major wheat producer, making trade easier. West Gate City maintained trade with the Wheat Kingdom, ensuring food supplies. For a while, Fratara managed to sustain its population through escorted caravans.
One year passed. Then two.

Finally, Fratara ran out of funds and fell into a state where trade was no longer possible.
The civil war in the Afflasia United Kingdom began as a power struggle among its three leaders.
Historically, the kingdom had been divided into three separate nations. Located on barren frontiers, these regions had lived like nomads until powerful families from each gathered near the present capital. After much turmoil, a council system with three leaders was established, founding the Afflasia United Kingdom.

This system lasted for several generations. However, it gradually devolved into political infighting.
Lacking fertile farmland and abundant resources, the kingdom survived through horse breeding and exporting combustible stones called “fuel rocks.” Other nations, eyeing these resources, sought cheap—or free—access.
Southern city-states with rich mines pushed aggressively to secure fuel rocks, further destabilizing the council. Eventually, the disputes escalated into full-scale civil war.

As the civil war dragged on, law and order collapsed. Many factions declared independence, leading to countless localized conflicts. The kingdom, already weak, rapidly deteriorated.
Even neighboring countries, wary of becoming embroiled in the chaos, refrained from intervening. They feared that sending troops might provoke other nations to act, sparking a broader war.
Thus, Fratara City found itself forced to make a choice.
The Options:

Tighten control over citizens, extracting every bit of wealth to extend survival.
Submit to Wheat Hill City and relinquish governance.
Surrender to the Wheat Kingdom and become a vassal state.
None were ideal.
Draining citizens’ wealth would only delay the inevitable while earning their resentment. Submitting to Wheat Hill City meant exile—or worse—for the Fratara family. Becoming a vassal of the Wheat Kingdom risked being branded as traitors and facing military retaliation from the fragmented but still united kingdom forces.
Faced with this grim reality, Fratara City attempted various survival strategies.

Expanding farmlands to grow crops.
Hunting in the forests around the Five Lakes.
Building boats to fish in the lakes.
Though somewhat effective, these efforts couldn’t feed the entire population. Fishing offered potential, but lacked experienced fishermen and transportation infrastructure. Developing those systems would take time—time that required stockpiles of food they didn’t have.
In this desperate situation, a caravan appeared.

It came from Telek Port City, long thought to have fallen. Though they claimed to be an envoy headed for East Gate City, Lord Radaeri Fratara saw them as a potential lifeline and quickly arranged an audience.
The envoy included a man who had previously visited, confirmed by a servant who recognized his face. Their attire was refined, their horses well-fed, and their equipment top-tier. Among them was a mysterious figure rumored to control golems—large constructs never seen before.
Though their features were concealed, glimpses revealed smooth skin, likely a woman. Whether male or female, a skilled golem user with good looks would be highly desirable.

Radaeri prepared multiple strategies.
If the envoy was headed for East Gate City, they were likely dealing with the Forest Nation of Leblesta, carrying valuable tributes. The golem users, rumored to travel in small but formidable groups, were a key target.
While he preferred a peaceful negotiation, Radaeri wasn’t above using force if necessary. With experienced soldiers accustomed to guarding caravans, a group of ten could be easily subdued.

Still, he hoped to avoid violence. Peaceful trade, or even monopolizing future transactions with Telek Port City, would be ideal. Controlling trade routes could prevent exploitation during food shortages.
"Tomorrow. Everything depends on tomorrow. Those golems… I don’t know how powerful they are, but I want them. The die is cast. Now, I just need to see what number it lands on."
Years later, Lord Radaeri Fratara reflected on that day.

"That was the worst day of my life.
Shot by some incomprehensible weapon, threatened at knifepoint, and my precious clock tower blown to bits.
Dragged through the halls with my shoulder bleeding, only to be shoved into the belly of some monstrous machine. I was sure I’d been fed to it and was about to be digested.

And then, I watched from inside as my proud soldiers were cut down like weeds by those Ringo girls.
I was certain it was the end—for all of us. And I had a front-row seat.
Well, you know the rest.

They patched me up and made me work until I dropped. And now?
Heh, well, I’m enjoying myself. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories."