Lord of the Frozen Winter: Starting with Daily Intelligence Reports

While the mages searched for other hive traces, Lord Louis was not idle.

After his first true encounter with the Mother Nest and its Worm-Eaten Household, Lord Louis realized that the most terrifying aspect of these monsters was not merely their fearless charges or formidable combat power, but rather the ‘parasitic regeneration’ that followed their self-detonation.

When a Worm Soldiers detonated, it sprayed not ordinary bodily fluids, but a large number of miniature larvae on the verge of hatching.

These larvae could burrow into a target's body within an extremely short time, reproducing, controlling, and eroding its will—a terrifying ability that led to almost instantaneous subjugation.

During the last battle, he had barely come up with a countermeasure: to have all participating knights fully armored, with sealed padding filling every gap inside and outside their armor.

However, while this solution was effective in the short term, it severely restricted the warriors' range of motion and their ability to fight enduringly, as their stamina consumption doubled.

This was not a long-term solution and required better armor as a replacement.

Lord Louis organized his thoughts into several clear requirements:

High defense and high sealing, capable of withstanding explosion impact and preventing worm bodies from burrowing in.

A good ventilation and perspiration system, preventing heatstroke or infection from dampness and heat during prolonged wear.

Comfort, ensuring soldiers could move for extended periods without combat effectiveness being reduced due to pressure or discomfort.

Modular design, allowing for quick replacement of damaged parts, reducing the burden of discarding entire sets and repairs.

With the ideas in place, the more crucial step was to find someone to bring them to fruition, so he went to the War Workshop to find Mike for design and manufacturing.

Today, the War Workshop was still bustling, with roaring furnaces and an incessant clang of hammers.

The air was filled with the scorching scent of metal and magic intermingling.

Last year, this was just a crude iron workshop with a dozen or so craftsmen, but now it was utterly transformed.

With the rapid development of the Red Tide Territory, especially after the Calvin Family sent a large number of highly skilled craftsmen and designers before the wedding, Mike's team had expanded into a large workshop system integrating forging, alchemy, materials, construction, and precision manufacturing.

In Lord Louis's opinion, apart from the War Workshop under Duke Edmund's domain, no other workshop in the Northland could rival it.

Mike was personally inspecting the reinforcement process of a batch of lances when he suddenly heard footsteps. He looked up and saw the familiar figure slowly approaching.

"Lord Louis? What brings you here?" Mike quickly removed his leather gloves and hurried forward to greet him.

"There's a new armor that requires your workshop's effort," Lord Louis said, his tone unhurried yet carrying an undeniable authority.

As he spoke, he casually took out a few slightly dusty draft papers from under his cloak and handed them to Mike.

On them were the basic structure of the armor, the stitching methods, and several cross-section drawings he had personally sketched.

Mike's eyebrows shot up at the sight.

He knelt, spread the papers on the workbench, and his fingers gently traced along the lines of annotations.

"High sealing, explosion impact resistance, replaceable components... This doesn't seem like something for an ordinary battlefield," Mike murmured, then looked up at Lord Louis.

"The structure of this batch of armor is a bit strange? What kind of enemy is it for?" He didn't ask more directly, only tentatively inquired.

"You don't need to know," Lord Louis said calmly. "You only need to remember that this is for extremely dangerous enemies. It must be airtight, and all these conditions must be met. Beyond that, ask no more."

Mike bowed his head in acquiescence. "Understood, My Lord."

After a moment, he looked up, his expression serious, almost solemn.

"This armor is not simple, but it's not impossible to make. Ventilation and sealing have always been archenemies, however—we can use a layered inner lining. At least it won't suffocate the wearer, and it ensures sealing."

"As for the replacement issue—" He frowned, looking at the arm armor drawing on the paper again. "Our outer armor can use a riveted joint design to replace the elbow and knee guards without moving the main components. However, specialized personnel will be needed for disassembly and replacement."

"That's acceptable," Lord Louis nodded. "Select a team you trust the most to create the prototype. This matter is entirely your responsibility; complete it using your most proficient methods."

Mike took a deep breath, his eyes burning with excitement. "To be honest, My Lord—everything you propose always °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° makes us craftsmen feel like we're dreaming.

I often tell the people in the workshop that our Lord, even if he weren't a noble, could become an extraordinary artificer, easily ranking among the Northland's three great workshops."

Lord Louis chuckled lightly. "Stop flattering me. I can't create these things, I can only help you do better."

"You are too modest," Mike said, cupping his hands, then turned and shouted, "Ed, Talia, Frey! Bring in that long armor frame! We have new work to do, an important task personally assigned by the Lord!"

The workshop instantly erupted with activity.

So, in the past few days, the Red Tide Workshop worked almost day and night.

Mike spread Lord Louis's design blueprints on the main table, discussing them late into the night with over a dozen senior craftsmen around the furnace, meticulously examining every detail from joint angles to valve structures, leaving no stone unturned.

Some were dedicated to testing the blast resistance of new alloys, while others repeatedly tried on inner linings to find the most suitable sweat-wicking fabric.

The furnace fires burned through the night, and amidst the swirling steam, the craftsmen argued, hammered, disassembled, and reassembled in sweat and soot.

Upon learning that the armor prototype was complete, Lord Louis immediately arrived. The main hall of the workshop still carried the lingering scent of rust and smoke from the previous night. Although the furnace fires had died down, they still emitted residual warmth, casting a gentle glow on the rivets and pipes on the walls.

Mike, his face beaming with excitement and coal dust clinging to his beard, greeted him, looking as if he could fly.

"Lord Louis, you're finally here," he said, lowering his voice, yet unable to conceal the pride in his tone. "Lord Louis, the armor is ready."

In the center of the main hall, the open space previously used for stacking ore had been completely cleared, and a tall armor prototype stood prominently.

Its surface shimmered with a gray-silver luster, and its lines were sharp yet softened by meticulous craftsmanship.

Craftsmen and apprentices circled it; some checked the joints, others adjusted the valves, and still others wiped the engravings on the breastplate with a cloth.

Spare components and material samples were neatly arranged along the wall, clearly prepared for a full 'Lord's inspection' protocol.

Mike could not suppress the pride in his eyes and brows. "Every single one of your requirements, we have meticulously prototyped. I wouldn't dare say it's perfect, but I believe it meets all your conditions.

I swear, this is the most beautiful design our workshop has produced since its inception. I'm not boasting, it's your sketch that had such spirit! If you weren't a Lord, you could be a craftsman and sweep the guilds!"

"You exaggerate," Lord Louis smiled, saying no more than, "If this battle armor can truly be put to use, then your efforts will certainly not be in vain."

"Then please, My Lord, give the order; the fitting can begin."

Lord Louis turned slightly, looking at the young man nearby. "Weil, try it on."

"Yes!" the young man responded, his eyes full of anticipation, and he stepped forward with brisk movements.

As Weil quickly unfastened his outer robe, several craftsmen stepped forward to assist him in donning the armor.

"Begin," Lord Louis nodded slightly.

Weil swiftly drew his sword and stepped forward, his movements as agile as a soaring falcon.

At the same time, Mike began his presentation. "For the breastplate and gauntlets, we used cold iron ore mixed with magical beast scales," he said excitedly. "This material cannot be pierced by a blade or broken by a spear!"

Another tall adult knight stepped forward, gripping his sword with both hands, his shoulders sinking slightly before he unleashed a powerful downward slash. The sword's edge whistled through the air, cleaving directly towards Weil's shoulder.

"Clang!"

A crisp metallic clang echoed through the main hall, accompanied by a shower of sparks. The armor merely vibrated slightly from the blow, with no noticeable dent.

Weil stood perfectly straight, not even taking a step back, only shrugging his shoulder. "Quite a kick."

A gasp went through the crowd, and Mike stepped forward to pat the struck area on the armor, smiling contentedly.

"My Lord, you see, the defensive power is not much different from ordinary fine steel armor," he said, glancing subtly at Lord Louis. "However, for weight reduction and ventilation, the protective thickness was reduced."

"Oh?" Lord Louis raised an eyebrow. "Then what's the solution?"

"I told you, don't just look at the surface," Mike explained patiently, tapping the armor's seams with a tool. "The outer armor uses cold iron, so it doesn't rely on thickness for strength. The real secret is in this inner lining."

He unfastened a small section of the forearm guard, revealing a gray-blue fabric woven like overlapping scales inside.

"The inner armor, woven with mithril threads, not only absorbs shock but also evenly disperses impact force. Don't be fooled by the lack of a dent; that sword strike just now would have broken a soldier's shoulder in ordinary armor."

Lord Louis nodded as he watched, his gaze falling on the armor's joints. "What about mobility?"

"Don't worry!" Mike chuckled, as if he had been waiting for this question. "Not only is it highly elastic, but it's also heat-resistant and tear-resistant."

Lord Louis nodded, then waved his hand, signaling Weil to continue his movements.

Weil executed a swift front roll, then slid on his stomach to the other end, and sprang back up.

"You see how well the joints are sealed and how smoothly it moves? And we've added active clasps, pressed down with rubber scales on the outside. Not even a single hair can get through."

"The sealing is indeed impressive," Lord Louis said, tapping a waist plate with his finger, discerning the material by its sound. "The feel is also sturdy."

"And it's not stuffy!" Mike pointed at Weil. "Weil, run a few laps—yes, just like that!"

As the young man ran, he adjusted his breathing, and the armor produced a subtle airflow sound with his movements.

Mike listened intently, as if he were hearing some sacred melody.

"Specially designed wind-channeling vents automatically regulate air temperature and circulation! Coupled with sweat-absorbing grass fiber fabric, no prickly heat, no fungal spots. The damp-heat diseases most feared on the Northland battlefield—they won't dare to cause trouble in this armor!"

Finally, he waved for a craftsman to come forward, who quickly detached Weil's right arm outer plate and replaced it with a spare part. The entire process took less than ten breaths.

"The limbs use a riveted quick-release design; changing parts on the battlefield is as fast as building with blocks."

"Excellent," Lord Louis slowly nodded, his gaze sweeping over the entire suit of armor. "This armor is even better than I expected."

Just as the final impact test was completed, Mike waved to the side. "Firewall, prepare!"

Several craftsmen quickly moved, igniting the pre-arranged stone troughs. Flames erupted, forming a scorching wall of fire.

The temperature twisted and writhed in the air, making even the apprentices standing far away gasp.

"Lord, we added fire oil, so the temperature is at least four hundred degrees," Mike grinned.

Weil understood the test content, and his eyes lit up; boys always liked exciting things.

He fastened his visor and turned to Lord Louis. "My Lord, may I try it?"

Lord Louis nodded. "Go ahead. Don't push yourself; retreat immediately if you feel uncomfortable."

"Understood!"

The next moment, the young knight leaped forward, walking through the fire.

Flames licked at his legs and feet, striking the armor's surface, but only producing a few explosive hisses.

The silver-gray armor plates, in the firelight, faintly shimmered with a layer of fiery golden light, like a metal behemoth emerging from molten rock, steadily passing through the flames.

The surrounding craftsmen and knights collectively held their breath, and only when Weil emerged from the other side of the firewall, completely unharmed, did they erupt in long-suppressed exclamations of awe.

"This armor can really walk through fire!"

Mike couldn't help but laugh, exaggerating, "The inner layer is cold iron plus an ice crystal insulation coating, plus that layer of Fire Scale iron powder spray. Forget a firewall, even a lava hell wouldn't burn through it a bit!"

Lord Louis nodded gently, his gaze on the battle armor growing increasingly pleased.

"Very good, Mike, this is more than just a suit of armor," he said, his voice low but filled with approval. "It's the soldiers' last line of defense for survival on the battlefield, and you've truly done an excellent job."

"That's because you designed it so well!" Mike grinned, his tone filled with genuine admiration. "We just forged according to your design suggestions, and as it turns out, we really did forge something special."

After various tests, it was confirmed that the armor had no flaws.

Weil, wearing the brand-new battle armor, approached Lord Louis, a wide smile on his face. "Lord, this armor is truly comfortable to wear; I even feel like taking it for my morning exercises."

Lord Louis jokingly replied, "Once it's mass-produced, no one will stop you if you want to sleep in it."

He paused, then added, "Take it off; I'll try it too."

Hearing this, the craftsmen dared not delay, disassembling the armor from Weil and transferring it to Lord Louis.

Lord Louis put on the armor and began a standard combat movement demonstration.

Lunges, sword swings, rolls, dodges—every movement was fluid and natural, without any sense of restriction.

He even performed better than Weil, as this armor was made for an adult male body, and it was slightly too large for Weil.

Seeing the Lord's valiant and spirited demeanor, Mike and the surrounding craftsmen's eyes gleamed, and they exchanged excited glances in low whispers.

Lord Louis, meanwhile, was experiencing the armor. Its breathability and flexibility far exceeded expectations.

While its defensive power couldn't compare to the Empire's top-tier fine steel armor, for the special task of dealing with the Mother Nest Worm-Eaten Household, this armor was undoubtedly the most suitable weapon.

Lord Louis stopped his movements, pondered for a moment, and then offered a suggestion: "The overall performance is already very good, but I recommend adding cushioning layers to the neck and knee joints."

He explained, "During prolonged high-intensity combat, if these areas are compressed for too long, it could cause temporary numbness, affecting judgment and reaction."

Mike showed an admiring smile, immediately pulled out his notebook, and diligently wrote down the improvement suggestion.

Lord Louis nodded in satisfaction, then announced the reward plan: "Each craftsman involved in the design will receive 30 gold coins, and others who participated in the forging will receive 5 gold coins each."

As his words fell, a cheer erupted in the workshop.

The craftsmen slapped each other's shoulders, their smiles so bright they almost sparked.

"That's thirty gold coins! Usually, we'd have to work overtime to get that much!" an old craftsman excitedly rubbed the calluses on his hands, his eyes gleaming.

"What are gold coins? The main thing is the Lord himself approved it; this is the greatest honor for us!" a young apprentice shouted excitedly, his voice full of admiration and pride.

The entire workshop instantly became fervent and united.

Amidst the excitement, Lord Louis turned to Mike and asked, "How are the materials coming along?"

Mike replied confidently, "They're all in place, just waiting for your word."

"Good, then let's begin manufacturing."