Chapter 158: The Improved Black Armor “Raven Type”

The moment Nolan’s words fell, the brief silence that followed exploded into a thunderous wave of cheers. 

“WOOOOOOOOOOO—!”

All this time, they had believed their lord only wanted them to inherit the unyielding spirit and glory of the legendary Black Armor Army. None of them had imagined that Nolan’s ambitions stretched far beyond mere legacy.

He raised a hand.

At the edge of the training grounds, more than a dozen massive wagons slowly rolled forward under the direction of Leus and the blacksmith Barton before stopping beneath the platform. Every eye was instantly drawn toward them.

Even the wagon drivers were broad-shouldered giants with thick, powerful arms. Sharp-eyed soldiers quickly recognized them as master smiths from the Hammer Guild. The men jumped down and skillfully unlocked the enormous storage crates mounted on the wagons.

Clack.

As the side panels dropped open, the entire training ground seemed to fall silent.

Had military discipline not held the formations together, the ranks of the Black Armored Legion likely would have erupted into complete chaos on the spot.

Inside the crates stood rows of pitch-black full plate armor.

Unlike conventional knight armor, which was usually transported in scattered pieces, these suits stood fully assembled like silent warriors awaiting battle. Under the pale autumn sunlight, the layered plates reflected a cold metallic sheen. Spiked protrusions jutted from the elbows and knees, adding a savage edge to the armor’s heavy, imposing silhouette.

The fully enclosed helmets featured movable visors, while wing-like structures extended from the sides near the ears. Those were not decorative flourishes but protected acoustic vents, designed to help the wearer hear battlefield sounds while still capable of sealing shut when necessary.

“Mother Goddess above…”

A soldier muttered the words like a man caught in a dream.

The comrades around him looked no better. Their eyes were wide, throats bobbing as they swallowed hard, every gaze filled with naked longing.

Full plate armor was ruinously expensive. It usually belonged only to elite knightly orders or cavalry companies within the kingdom’s standing armies. Ordinary infantry units could never hope to receive such equipment.

Who did not envy those glorious knights clad head to toe in steel?

For men born at the bottom of society, such things existed only in dreams. And now, their lord had turned that dream into reality.

“Your beloved instructors—Hank, Rehanna, and Little Donnie—have selected the four hundred finest soldiers based on your performance over the past month.” Nolan’s voice carried clearly across the field. “Today, they will receive the very reward that gave the Black Armored Legion its name. The first-generation improved black armor—Raven Type!”

The four hundred soldiers standing at the front of the formation instantly straightened their backs even further. Pride blazed across every face, their bodies trembling with excitement.

Their lord’s promises were being fulfilled one by one.

And they would become the first fortunate souls to bask in that glory.

“Little Donnie! Show these brave warriors how it works.”

Little Donnie eagerly strode out from the ranks and rushed onto the platform, thrilled that Nolan had entrusted him with such an honorable task.

Several smiths worked together to lower a particularly exquisite officer-grade suit of black armor from one of the wagons. A specially designed support frame held the torso shell upright while the limb modules rested neatly on either side.

Little Donnie thanked the craftsmen before they stepped away.

The sight left many soldiers below puzzled.

Didn’t full plate armor usually require several attendants and half an hour to put on?

Standing atop the platform, Little Donnie swiftly removed his uniform, revealing a tight black combat underlayer beneath.

Seeing this, Renee lightly waved her staff.

Mist gathered beside the platform and formed a giant projection that displayed Little Donnie’s figure in perfect clarity—a first-circle water-element resonance spell known as Mist Mirror.

Though simple, the spell still drew another wave of astonished murmurs from the locals of Coldsteel, most of whom had little experience with magic.

Under the magnified mist projection, everyone could clearly see the internal structure of the Raven Type armor.

The suit was built around a unified torso system. At key movement points such as the shoulders, armpits, and waist, the plates used a layered lobster-shell design that maintained flexibility while eliminating the need for cumbersome segmented assembly.

Inside the armor was a thick shock-absorbing padded layer, but the true centerpiece was its ingenious central locking mechanism.

A primary locking shaft extended downward from the chest, connecting the breastplate and backplate in a circular linkage around the waist. At the top sat a strange butterfly-shaped quick-turn fastener. Even the black cloak lined in crimson was directly integrated beneath the pauldrons, eliminating the need to wear it separately.

Under countless burning gazes, Little Donnie stepped backward into the frame, gripping the handles on either side before leaning into the torso shell. His arms slid through the shoulder openings, and the body shell settled onto him like a fitted vest.

Then he braced himself and twisted clockwise through a hidden cam mechanism.

Click! A crisp metallic snap echoed across the training grounds. The breastplate and backplate locked together simultaneously at five key points across the shoulders, ribs, and abdomen. The limb modules were equally efficient. Each leg section functioned as a single integrated unit with hinged inner panels. Little Donnie stepped into the opened greaves and closed the armor around his legs.

Clack! Clack! Two sharp locking sounds rang out as the lever clasps sealed firmly into place. The arm assemblies worked on the same principle, though with even more sophisticated engineering. Upper arm, elbow, and forearm plates were connected through internal leather lining and precision hinges, forming unified armored sleeves. The gauntlets and steel boots also employed hinged-open construction, allowing hands and feet to slide in quickly before locking shut.

Finally, Little Donnie lifted the helmet and placed it over his head.

Shhk! The visor dropped.

A cold flash of steel swept across the field.

Armor complete.

The entire process flowed seamlessly from start to finish without requiring assistance from anyone else. From beginning to end, it had taken less than two minutes.

The blacksmiths below stared proudly at their creation with the eyes of fathers admiring their finest child.

Even they had been stunned when first shown Nolan’s blueprints.

Through the revolutionary central locking structure, the design transformed twenty-four cumbersome loose components into seven major modules: torso shell, limbs, gauntlets, and boots. It had changed armor from “a pile of parts” into “a set of modules,” replacing cumbersome multi-point strapping with single-point locking and completely revolutionizing the speed of equipping it.

“WOOOOOOO—!”

The members of the Black Armored Legion erupted into deafening cheers. Watching full plate armor—something that normally required fifteen to twenty minutes to don—equipped so swiftly and effortlessly left them utterly stunned.

Nolan himself was deeply satisfied.

This armor represented the absolute pinnacle of Vaughn Continent’s existing plate-forging technology, and as a self-designed creation, the Raven Type had even been recognized by the system itself. On his status panel, the words 【Fine Craft Grade】 gleamed brilliantly. In an age where armor was prohibitively expensive and painfully rare, equipment of this caliber was enough to push the morale of any army to its absolute peak.

Only Anna, standing behind the platform, looked upon the shining armor with mixed joy and agony. Once the entire army was fully equipped, the cost of the armor alone was expected to consume nearly half the “inheritance” seized from Baron Haus—roughly four hundred thousand gold coins. The expense was so staggering it made her heart bleed as Coldsteel’s financial overseer.

But armor had always been this costly. That was precisely why only elite knights could afford such protection. And yet Nolan had insisted on it regardless of price. What he wanted was an elite army.

Meanwhile, both the Hammer Guild and the Mining Guild, upon hearing the project was for their lord, had volunteered to work nearly at cost.

All of it stemmed from Nolan’s personal charisma. With any other lord, such a project would have been impossible from the outset. Timing, circumstance, and people—all aligned perfectly. The birth of the Raven Type black armor was nothing short of a miracle unique to Nolan and unique to Coldsteel.

“Armor up!”

At Nolan’s command, the four hundred chosen soldiers, along with officers such as Hank and Rehanna, stepped out from the formations and moved toward the armor wagons one by one.

The entire training ground instantly exploded into feverish activity.

Metal clashed. Locking levers snapped into place. Soldiers breathed heavily with excitement. Together, the sounds formed the most passionate pre-battle symphony imaginable.

Those who had not been selected stared with unconcealed envy, nearly drooling at the sight, yet there was no jealousy in their eyes. Because they knew—and firmly believed—that their lord would never abandon any one of them.

“‘Raven,’ huh? A remarkably clever design.” Ailindel walked to Nolan’s side, admiration clear in her voice. “Even in my era, this would have qualified as first-rate standard military armor. Your design is extraordinary. If the Sky Giants and Golden Dwarf smiths still existed, they would undoubtedly be eager to discuss it with you.”

“Don’t say that,” Nolan replied with a smile as he watched the bustling scene below. “This armor only saw the light of day because of your help too. It’s the result of collective wisdom.”

Over these past weeks, Ailindel had come to understand something about Nolan. He never hoarded credit for himself. He always wanted to share glory with everyone around him.

No wonder a few words from him were enough to make thousands willingly lay down their lives for his cause. His charisma had long since permeated every small detail of his daily actions.

She looked at him just as he turned toward her, and in that brief exchange of glances, mutual understanding passed silently between them.

Nolan, in truth, was not merely being modest.

The design for this armor originated from memories of his previous life.

After the fall of the kingdom, thousands of “Elfin Restorationist” players had spent two entire years refining the concept through countless failures before finally arriving at the optimal solution.

Unfortunately, by the time this Fine Craft–grade armor was completed in the original timeline, it was already Year 276 of the Vaughn Continent calendar—six years later than the present day. In an era where overall combat power had already advanced dramatically, it was no longer particularly impressive.

But now, appearing as standardized military equipment, it became overwhelmingly powerful. This was a handshake between two worlds across time and space. More than that, it was the inheritance of ideals and conviction.

Once the final soldier had finished equipping his armor, Nolan declared, “Tomorrow night, we march for the Somme River. With our swords, we will claim victory.”