Though they didn't quite understand what Chen Mo meant, Andrew and the others still followed his orders to the letter. Reluctantly, they stripped off their armor — the same armor they had once been so proud of — and piled it together with the damaged pieces they'd just unloaded from the horses.
Those armors had been rewards from Chen Mo himself, so even if he wanted them back, no one could complain. Still, knowing their lord, they all knew these things — treasures that most nobles would kill for — meant very little to him.
The men of the territorial guard, confused but obedient, threw their weapons into the pile as well. Soon, dozens of heavy suits of knight armor and over a hundred weapons were stacked into a small mountain of steel, weighing several tons.
In this medieval world, the mere metal was worth a fortune — let alone the craftsmanship involved.
As Andrew and the others stared at the heap in puzzlement, Chen Mo turned toward the elderly craftsman beside him.
"Cain," he said calmly, "melt all this junk down and reforge it."
"As you command, my lord."
The old man bowed respectfully, then waved for several workers to carry the armor away.
Only then did realization dawn on Andrew and his men — the lord was going to melt all of it. The loss made their hearts ache. These weren't just expensive; forging each piece required master-level skill, countless hours, and huge costs in both labor and materials. Even if the armor was damaged, it could still be repaired… and yet Chen Mo dismissed it all as scrap.
Without sparing them a glance, Chen Mo turned and strode toward a separate building — a large, solid structure that stood apart from the others.
Cain hurried after him, taking a key from around his neck. He unlocked the massive iron doors, which swung open with a deep groan.
The building was made entirely of brick, sealed tight — no windows, only those heavy double doors.
When they opened, sunlight flooded in, flashing across the room — and a dazzling silver glow burst forth.
Andrew and the others blinked against the light. When their eyes adjusted, they froze.
Inside, rows upon rows of silver knight armor stood in formation — over a hundred gleaming suits, aligned as neatly as a parade of soldiers ready for war. The cold metallic brilliance radiated an aura of silent power and killing intent.
Along the walls were matching sets of horse armor, long spears, swords, and shields — a complete arsenal.
Each piece was both elegant and practical. The smooth, polished surfaces reflected masterful craftsmanship. Compared to these, the armors they'd once worn — once their most prized possessions — now looked like crude scrap hammered together in a back-alley forge.
No wonder the lord had called them "junk."
The sight left everyone stunned, hearts pounding. Never had they seen such perfection — a full regiment's worth of equipment, uniform and flawless.
Chen Mo couldn't help but smirk at their awe.
When he first took control of the territory, he had gathered every craftsman available and built this workshop. Using the knowledge in his mind, he had guided them step by step into producing new technologies.
The first thing he worked on was steel.
In this dark, chaotic age, power was everything — and steel was the foundation of that power.
At this point in history, steelmaking was primitive. The quality was poor, the output low, and though steel was expensive, true strength was achieved only by making armor thicker and heavier.
That's why traditional knight armor, while strong, was unbearably heavy — limiting a knight's agility and placing huge strain on their warhorses. Only the finest, most powerful steeds could carry a fully armed knight into battle, which made such horses worth their weight in gold.
The mounts Chen Mo had "acquired" from Count Warren were precisely that kind — elite warhorses bred for full-armor combat.
But Chen Mo, using his modern knowledge, had gone beyond this era's limits. He refined coke, built blast furnaces, and created high-quality steel in abundance. With improved production techniques, his armory's weapons and armor were not only stronger and sharper — they were also far lighter.
Under his orders, Andrew and the soldiers began to don the new armor, trembling with excitement.
And when they did, they immediately felt the difference.
The old knight armor had weighed over thirty kilos and moved like a coffin of iron. Fighting in it required brute strength and patience.
This new armor, though — it was light, only about twenty kilos. The joint design was ingenious, allowing full range of motion while maintaining total protection.
Despite its thinner appearance, a few test strikes showed it was far tougher and more resilient than their old suits.
The swords gleamed with a cold edge, so sharp and fine they looked capable of cutting through the air itself.
Only later, when they used them in real combat, did they truly understand their power — these weapons were no mere tools, but legendary arms. While not quite "cutting iron like mud," they could easily cleave through enemy blades and pierce even the thickest armor.
Andrew and his men, who had earlier grieved over the melted-down spoils, now laughed at their own foolishness. Compared to this… the old stuff really was junk.
When it came time to equip their horses, they noticed something new on the saddles — small metal loops on either side.
Under Cain's explanation, they realized these were stirrups. They allowed a rider to mount easily and keep balance while fighting on horseback.
Andrew's eyes widened in astonishment. As a skilled rider, he instantly understood how revolutionary that was.
At this point in history, stirrups hadn't yet reached Europe. Knights trained from childhood, spending years just to master fighting while mounted.
That difficulty — along with the cost of horses and armor — was why knights were so rare, a privilege reserved for nobles.
But now… with stirrups, everything changed.
A new era of cavalry was about to begin.