Bradley stood to the side, quickly taking notes: "Yes, My Lord."
"We must begin stockpiling supplies for winter now," Louis continued. "Granaries, salt, fuel, winter fabrics... get a portion ready for the Red Tide first. As for the rest of the Northern Territory’s supplies, we will decide when I return."
Bradley nodded solemnly: "Understood, I will personally oversee it."
Having given these instructions, Louis then called for Hamilton.
The young craftsman was wearing an oil-stained leather apron, his hair slick with sweat and clinging slightly to his forehead.
Upon seeing Louis, he nervously rubbed his hands together, speaking softly: "My Lord, about the... steam-powered loom... we’ve already started mass production."
"Excellent," Louis nodded, approval evident in his eyes. "You’ve done well, Hamilton."
Hamilton shyly lowered his head: "Actually... it was Mr. Mike who helped a lot, I... I just modified the design..."
Louis smiled: "Next, I want you to focus on the direction of propulsion systems."
The youth looked up, hesitantly: "Do you an the land steamship side?"
Louis nodded: "However, I heard you’ve hit a bottleneck with the ship’s steam engine?"
Hamilton scratched his head: "Yes... for ships, the thermal output isn’t enough to drive the screw propeller, especially with heavy loads."
"Then try prioritizing the steam car on the ground," Louis suggested. "It doesn’t need to be done in one go, start with what’s manageable."
Hamilton’s eyes suddenly lit up: "I understand, I... I’ll try to draft a new design in the coming days."
"Don’t rush, take your ti. But don’t let your thoughts stagnate."
"Understood, My Lord!"
Next was Bruch, who was now in charge of training the apprentice knights, summoned by Louis.
Bruch, a burly man, stood at attention as he entered: "My Lord, is there sothing you need?"
"From now on, raise the managent level of the training camp," Louis said somberly, "Focus on three types of people: those on the verge of breakthroughs, those with unusual discipline, and those of barbarian origin."
"Especially that Zacco," nodded Louis. "I think he has potential and strong explosive power, you need to keep an eye on him."
Bruch frowned: "Zacco? The one of barbarian origin?"
"That’s why you need to keep an eye on him," Louis softened his tone. "If soone of barbarian origin is isolated before being acknowledged, they’ll instinctively withdraw to their tribe, and we’ll never truly retain them."
Bruch took a deep breath and nodded firmly: "I understand, My Lord, I’ll arrange for Haro to assist."
"Good," Louis responded.
Bruch gave a slight bow and turned to leave.
Finally, Louis donned his cloak and stepped out of the main hall, where the elite accompanying team was ready.
This team, selected from the Red Tide Knight Order, consisted of eighteen mbers, fifteen of whom were high-tier elite knights, and three were transcendent.
Each was equipped with full battle attire and battlefield magic burst grenades, moving in unison.
Such a knight team could almost traverse the entire Northern Territory unchecked.
Louis walked to the door, glanced over them, and nodded slightly: "Set out."
......
In the early morning, as the mist had not yet fully dispersed, the silhouette of Shadow Valley faintly erged before the knight team.
A group of over ten riders advanced slowly, with coarse stone posts and simple wooden fences set at the road’s edge, the distant mountain retaining the weathered look of an ancient tomb cave.
However, the outpost, traps, and signal beacons on the outskirts had long since transford it into a secret stronghold for the Red Tide Territory.
Louis reined in his mount at the high point of a hillside, looking down.
The valley’s entrance had three lines of defense, the outward appearance deliberately simplistic, yet ingeniously concealed.
The outermost was a chevaux-de-frise disguised as old wooden posts with tripwire alarms. The middle zone hid multiple buried magic burst traps capable of targeted attacks on large groups.
The inner circle housed two chosen patrol knights, who changed shifts frequently, their routes crisscrossing, able to detect anomalies at a mont’s notice.
"More standardized than before," he comnted quietly. Before the escorts could report, footsteps echoed from the entrance of the Shadow Valley camp.
Alian, cloaked, rushed over, with a slightly travel-worn face, yet clearly excited.
This person, the chief administrator of the Shadow Valley, and one of the earliest loyal followers of the Red Tide Territory, now bowed respectfully: "Lord Louis, I didn’t expect you to co in person today."
"Just passing by," Louis dismounted, tucking his gloves into his belt. "How are the recent promotions going?"
"Reporting as follows," Alian drew a brief ledger from his cloak, "Over the past three weeks, three broke through to extraordinary knights, and seventeen to elite knights.
One individual lost his resolve during the low-temperature sensitivity trial but successfully advanced after we adjusted the rhythm and potion ratio."
His speech was asured, yet carried an inherent confidence, evidently satisfied with the current process.
Louis glanced through the roster, nodding in approval.
Breaking through to the transcendent level is no easy feat; many elite knights never cross that threshold in their lifetis.
Yet here in the Shadow Valley, three have succeeded in just one month, a result unparalleled in the Empire.
Not to ntion the nurous successful elite promotions, each representing future potential.
Among these individuals, a few will undeniably grow into the backbone supporting the Red Tide, and they will surely rember who gave them this opportunity.
True loyalty is not won by oaths but earned through trust and the grace of changing one’s fate.
And these knights, forged in such a manner, will one day reciprocate this loyalty, even with their lives.
In Louis’s heart, it was clear that investing so much in this spiritual forge was indeed justified.
Alian cautiously suggested: "If you have ti, I suggest that you personally observe the latest round of altar training... the process has been adjusted since your last visit."
Louis smiled: "I plan to, coincidentally Weir is attempting his breakthrough this ti as well."
"Weir?" Alian was taken aback, then looked at the usually silent young guard with surprise, "Has he reached the critical point?"
"Nearly," Weir, sowhat bashfully, scratched his head, "Actually... just a bit more, and I haven’t dared to ntion it."
"That truly is..." Alian rarely showed surprise, "So young, stepping into the extraordinary, in this batch of Red Tide, you’re the first."
Louis lightly patted Weir’s shoulder: "He’s no less than anyone else. Let’s take this opportunity to see the actual results of the spiritual forge."
"Understood." Alian’s smile beca serious, "I’ll take you there imdiately."
Alian personally led the way, with Louis and his group following into several core areas.
First was the Shadow Moss Cultivation Room.
In the semi-enclosed greenhouse, three types of Shadow Moss were ticulously planted in separate zones.
The catalyst type for refining breakthrough potions, the anti-illusion type for fumigation defense, and the focus type as the key ingredient for "ntal shock grenades."
A few pharmacists were sealing the extracted viscous liquid into transparent bottles, packing them into wooden crates marked with batch numbers.
Louis approached to observe, picking up a bottle of potion and gently shaking it in the light.
The color was stable, the concentration even, clearly of high quality.
"Very good," he nodded softly, his expression amiable, "This batch of catalysts turned out well."
Alian replied with a smile: "After we adjusted the formula to a more stable range, the yield increased by nearly ten percent."
Next, they entered the Lizard Beast Control Zone.
In a spacious stone cave, two Soul-devouring Lizard Beasts, fitted with control devices, were undergoing ntal control training.
One was growling as it released shockwaves, with several knight trainees observing the interference range and wave distribution from behind.
Finally, they arrived at the Central Altar District, in the Will Breakthrough Training Room.
In the central do of stone structure, a low-temperature crystal platform stood quietly, surrounded by conduits for magic energy and protective curse patterns, with several auxiliary knights performing preliminary checks.
Louis stood at the threshold, surveying for a mont, softly musing: "Transforming this from a wasteland into what it is now was indeed challenging."
Turning back to Alian, he smiled: "The overall process is now very mature. You’ve done well."
"I am honored by your trust, My Lord," Alian’s tone softened, offering a slight bow.
Louis patted Weir’s shoulder, speaking with a mix of warmth and expectation: "Go in, we all have faith in you."
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