The new meeting room in the industrial district of Red Tide Territory, located in the central area of the entire Artisan District, is a core venue specially designed for major technical discussions, with a structure of mixed stone and wood construction, supported by heavy beams and columns holding up the arch-shaped roof.

In the center, a solid wood conference table stretching five meters long resembles a command platform of a battlefield, laid out with the latest weapon designs and metal samples.

Surrounding it sit the core craftsmen of Red Tide Territory, dressed in uniform leather robes, emblazoned on the chest with the "Sun Gear Emblem" personally designed by Louis, symbolizing the honor of this industrial corps.

They respect this lord not just because of his power, but because of the designs he proposed.

Those structures and functional concepts they never dared to imagine are enough to make an old craftsman re-examine the ancient art of craftsmanship from start to finish.

Flamethrowers, Magic Explosion Bullet launchers, special armor...

These whimsical ideas on paper have now, one by one, entered trial production and iteration in the workshops.

Mike stands at the forefront, with a serious expression, starkly contrasting his usual jestful demeanor by the furnace.

Beside him stands a slightly nervous youth, with traces of furnace residue not yet wiped clean, but his eyes are extremely lively.

Upon his appearance, Louis immediately recognizes him.

He is precisely the key focus announced several times over the last two months by the intelligence system—Hamilton.

Possessing a rare combination of mechanical and alchemical talent, if properly nurtured, he is very likely to become the "Northern Territory's first craftsmen."

Louis originally planned to remind Mike to pay attention to this child later, unexpectedly...

Mike not only noticed him but had already promoted him to his side.

"Indeed, you old fellow have insight." Louis inwardly chuckled.

As everyone awaited the start, an alchemist clad in a robe with blackened edges from an explosion yawned and entered.

"Sorry, sorry, the furnace blew a bit... but I'm still here." He wiped his eye discharge with his sleeve and sat in the corner, yet no one dared to underestimate him.

He is one of the founders of the Alchemy Workshop, Hillco, a dangerous guy with a mind full of explosives and wild ideas.

Bradley, as usual, stood at Louis's left rear, with one hand holding a notebook and the other wearing a silver-edged monocle.

As the conference co-host, he supplemented data or process arrangements anytime, ensuring the meeting was efficient and flawless.

As everyone took their seats, the atmosphere tightened.

Mike stood up, clapped his hands together, and announced loudly:

"According to Lord Louis's orders, we have prioritized the preliminary trial modification of traditional weapons. Today, the first batch of results is officially reported."

Following his command, several craftsmen carried a box covered with heavy burlap into the meeting room, the heavy clashing sound of metal upon the floor reverberating, making the air seem to tremble slightly.

The first to debut was—Cold Iron Greatsword.

The craftsman carefully uncovered the burlap, displaying the gleaming cold sword before everyone.

The sword exceeds one and a half meters in length, with a wide blade yet not cumbersome, the cold iron material polished smooth and even, with the handle and guard reconstructed using ergonomics for precise weight distribution.

The sword tip employs a micro-arc angled design, enhancing armor-piercing efficiency.

Mike added, "This sword uses the third batch of Cold Iron ingots, with forging time increased threefold, enhancing overall strength while maintaining toughness. We've repeatedly quenched the blade to ensure it won't chip during battle."

Next was the Cold Iron Spear.

"Made of the same material, the spearhead embedded with fine toothed barbs, once pierced... it does not pull out, or if pulled, it tears flesh."

Bradley looked slightly shocked: "...This forces opponents to sever limbs on the battlefield for survival?"

"Indeed so. Not for cruelty, but for efficiency and intimidation."

Next were the round shield and tower shield.

Two tower shields stood on the conference room floor, embedded with cold iron frame bone, the surface covered with fire-resistant coating and leather, the decoration simple yet imposing.

"We installed special slots inside the tower shield, adaptable for petroleum or frost powder to form temporary elemental resistance. This is experimental; if effective, it can be mass-produced."

What pleased Louis more was the consistency in quality control.

He carefully reviewed the sample forms and various records, then personally picked up the greatsword and tested the blade's elasticity and shock rebound.

Finally, he nodded, "Very good, this batch of Cold Iron is forged quite uniformly." He turned to Mike, "Can you guarantee all weapon outputs maintain this quality?"

Mike heavily slapped his chest, rust flying: "Rest assured, Lord Louis, not achieving quality control is letting down the treatment you provide us craftsmen."

His tone carried not flattery, but genuine sincerity with a touch of pride.

This is no empty talk.

In Red Tide Territory, craftsmen's benefits are already the most advantageous set in the entire Northern Territory: daily hot meals, rotation system, high-tier worker injury compensation, apprentice promotion mechanism, priority housing and education… even the craftsmen's children's educational allowances.

Louis swept his gaze around: "Then proceed with mass production directly. We don't lack raw materials, maximize the speed."

Upon hearing this, the craftsmen responded in unison, morale high, with several young apprentices unable to hold back from applauding in celebration.

In other territories, such weapon production capacity is a luxury; in Red Tide, it is reality.

And even making more is no problem.

Can't sell them all? Impossible.

Louis had already calculated everything; currently, the Northern Territory is entering a new period of Pioneer Nobles' settlement, new noble territories urgently lack military equipment.

And even if they don't come to buy, Calvin Commerce Association can sell these weapons all the way to the Southern Territory.

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