Chapter 71: The Ultimate Ideal and Making It Reality

“Nolan…”

Hank’s voice sounded dry as he stared fixedly at him, his usually stern expression tighter than ever. As a veteran who had spent most of his life in the army, no one understood the weight carried by the name Black Armored Legion better than he did.

It was more than a title. It was a legend, the very soul of Elfin’s military history. More importantly, it represented the pinnacle of military doctrine: the perfect fusion of equipment, training, and logistics.

“Did I hear you correctly?” Hank asked slowly, carefully emphasizing every word to avoid any misunderstanding. “You want to rebuild that Black Armored Legion from the stories?”

Meeting his doubtful gaze, Nolan answered with a confident smile, “You heard right, Hank. My goal is the Black Armored Legion. My philosophy is simple. If we’re going to do this, then we build the strongest.”

“…Isn’t that aiming a little too high?” Hank frowned. It wasn’t that he doubted Nolan’s ability or determination. The goal itself was simply too outrageous. After gathering his thoughts, he spoke in a deep, measured tone. “Nolan, I admit your strength and vision far exceed those of ordinary people. But in too many areas, we’re moving far too fast. First, time. Give me enough time, and I’m confident I can train a truly elite army for you. But one month… that’s nowhere near enough.”

He continued seriously.

“An elite force takes time to forge. Harsh training can temper a soldier’s will in the short term, but physical conditioning, combat technique, and battlefield coordination between troops can’t be rushed. Those things require time.”

Rehanna nodded beside him. As a mercenary captain, she understood the same reality. Turning a group of recruits who had never even touched a sword into competent soldiers within a little over a month was already miraculous enough. Recreating the legendary Black Armored Legion was another matter entirely.

“The Black Armored Legion were all heavy infantry,” she said. “And according to legend, they could charge as fast as heavy cavalry. The physical demands and combat standards required for that are on an entirely different level from ordinary infantry. If it were easy, the legion wouldn’t have vanished in the first place.”

Hank’s reasoning was practical and perfectly aligned with common sense.

But Nolan had never been someone who followed common sense.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said unexpectedly, nodding in agreement. “Battlefield experience and unit cohesion can only be forged through blood and fire. Recruits who’ve never seen war won’t gain that no matter how long they train. But that part can wait.”

He looked around the room with a smile.

“The first stage of our plan focuses on strength and equipment. Under normal circumstances, forget one month—even one year might not be enough to create even the beginnings of a Black Armored Legion.” Then his tone shifted. “But…”

His gaze moved toward the alchemist who had remained quietly at the back of the crowd the entire time.

“We have a secret weapon.” He walked over and firmly patted the man on the shoulder. “It’s time for Master Leus to take the stage.”

“You mean… me?” Leus nearly jumped at the sudden attention, awkwardly pointing at himself. Every time Nolan called him “Master” and entrusted him with an important responsibility, he felt both embarrassed and pressured. He hurriedly waved his hands. “My lord, you flatter me too much. I’m just an ordinary alchemist. Rebuilding something as massive as the Black Armored Legion… what could I possibly do?”

“Oh, there’s a great deal only you can do,” Nolan replied with a mysterious grin. He stepped closer. “Leus, do you remember the improved formula I mentioned back in Rosenberg? The one for that ‘three-in-one male enhancement potion’?”

The moment the conversation entered his area of expertise, Leus seemed to transform completely. The nervousness vanished from his face, replaced by excitement. “Of course I remember!” he said enthusiastically. “That concept was genius! By adjusting the concentration of Matona Grass extract and adding trace amounts of Elfin drake blood as a catalyst, it should theoretically preserve the original effects while permanently and dramatically increasing muscular explosiveness and endurance! I’ve already researched it extensively. In theory, it’s absolutely possible. All that remains is practical testing.”

Nolan burst into laughter. “Excellent! Then from now on, you won’t need to worry about materials at all.” He spread his arms. “Coldsteel City sits near the Borderlands Forest, and the outer regions are full of Matona Grass. If we lack any other ingredients, Anna will give your work the highest priority. Even if we have to empty the entire market, we’ll get you what you need.”

Then Nolan turned toward the still-confused Hank and Rehanna.

“These modified potions are the key to building a combat-capable army in a short time. They’ll rapidly raise our soldiers’ physical capabilities to the standards required for the Black Armored Legion.”

Hank and the others stared at him in disbelief.

A potion like that actually existed?

It sounded almost like divine blessings from the temple.

Even the “Griffin Strength Elixir” Hank had once seen in the Southern Legion only slightly enhanced physical power, and those were rare treasures reserved exclusively for high-ranking officers.

After a moment of thought, Hank continued questioning him, “Fine. Let’s assume the soldiers’ physical conditioning problem can be solved. What about armor and weapons?” He crossed his arms. “The title ‘Steel Torrent’ existed for a reason. The real core of the Black Armored Legion was how they balanced the protection of heavy armor with the speed of cavalry. Their armor itself was the source of their strength.”

“I’ve already prepared for that too,” Nolan replied calmly. “As far as historical records go, the original black armor relied on dwarven masters engraving ‘Earthspring Runes’ onto the plates to counterbalance the armor’s weight. Then elven craftsmen added ‘Wing Blessings’ to grant extraordinary mobility.” He shrugged. “Both techniques were lost long ago. We can’t reproduce them. But…” He looked toward Leus once more. “We have a better substitute. Master Leus, your self-created Hurricane Enchantment may still be incomplete, but I believe its perfected form will rival the old Earthspring Runes. Once fully developed, its effects won’t be inferior to either of those ancient techniques.”

Nolan silently added another thought to himself.

Inferior? Hardly.

In his previous life, the One-Eyed Commander Tarton had used the perfected Hurricane Enchantment to create the infamous Hurricane Battle Formation, relying on speed and mobility to make the entire kingdom suffer for years.

Just imagining Tarton discovering that his future achievement had become someone else’s weapon was enough to make Nolan want to laugh.

“As for the armor materials themselves,” Nolan continued casually, “there’s even less reason to worry. I chose Coldsteel City as our starting point because it possesses the largest iron mine in the kingdom, along with a silver mine of considerable reserves. We can fully supply our own armor production. In the next two or three days, one of our top priorities will be securing and reorganizing control of both mines.”

The room gradually fell silent.

Nolan’s plans were astonishingly detailed.

From troop training, to logistical support through alchemical potions, to armor production and technical innovation, he had considered every aspect and already prepared practical solutions.

The doubts and shock everyone initially felt slowly transformed into something closer to fervent belief.

They looked at Nolan as though he were some omniscient figure who had already foreseen the future.

At last, Nolan’s gaze settled on the priest, Kayan. “Kayan, for now you’ll join the future Black Armor Army as a military priest. Your responsibilities will be heavy. You won’t only treat the wounded. You’ll also use your faith to shape the soul of this army.” Then Nolan spoke of something even greater. “In the future, I plan to build an organization centered around you—the Inquisition of the Cross. Its mission will not only be spreading the Holy Mother’s light, but also rooting out the cultists hiding within the kingdom’s shadows and eradicating the corruption spread by Shiva’s undead.”

Kayan’s breathing suddenly stopped for a moment. A blazing light erupted in his ever-burning eyes unlike anything before.

Wasn’t this the very ideal he had pursued his entire life?

He stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and pressed a hand to his chest. In a voice filled with absolute devotion, he declared, “I am yours to command, my lord.”