Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 676 - 387: Steam Tank (3)

Two loaders collaborated this time, shoving a cone-shaped projectile adorned with a red hazard label into the breech.

The tank gradually shifted its position, its cannon barrel targeting the robust granite barrier two hundred meters distant.

"Fire!"

"Boom!!!"

Differing from the earlier sharp air-tearing blast of shrapnel, the cannon's roar now thundered deeply and mightily, resembling a massive fist slamming into the planet's core.

Shadows bursting from the muzzle outpaced their vision entirely.

The instant that followed.

At a distance of two hundred meters.

"Boom——!!!"

Nearly two meters thick, the granite barrier appeared pulverized internally by some unseen colossal force.

Fragments of rock exploded outward akin to shrapnel, while clouds of dust surged upward several meters.

Dust settled to reveal the former impregnable barrier transformed into a gaping hole, scattered debris marked by blast-induced burns.

Lambert's pupils shrank in shock.

Louis had just fired Hillco’s renowned Magic Explosion Bullet from within.

Moments later, the tank bellowed to life, its tracks ripping through the soil as it surged forward aggressively.

Resembling a furious bull, it rammed the ruins using its prominent front V-shaped plow.

"Crash——"

Under the assault of steel, the leftover walls tumbled entirely, flattening into rubble.

Silence enveloped the field, broken only by the tank engine's cooling "clink".

Gunpowder's pungent odor hung heavily, parching throats, yet none dared utter a cough.

"It’s powerful," Louis shattered the quiet, his tone steady yet laced with frost, "but it’s not perfect."

Lambert drew a steadying breath, shaking off the astonishment.

"Its sides and rear are vulnerable spots, visibility limited," Lambert rasped hoarsely, "A flanking foe targeting tracks or view ports would finish it."

"We must fix that," Hamilton scribbled notes frantically, drenched in sweat, "Adding side firing ports might work, but..."

"Heavy Cavalry." Weir, positioned silently behind Louis, interjected abruptly.

Though soft-spoken, the youth's words rang firm and resolute as he eyed the iron monster thoughtfully, devoid of dread.

"Sir, as an anvil, it requires a partner swinging the hammer."

Weir gestured toward the tank's flank, "We can’t let this beast battle solo.

I propose assigning elite Heavy Cavalry to create a special guard unit that moves alongside the tank. Let it smash defenses, while Knights eliminate any foes daring to near its sides."

Louis pivoted, eyeing the two-year companion with mild astonishment.

The once naive boy clutching a sword had grasped the essence of combined tactics.

"Well said, Weir." Louis nodded in approval.

Turning to Lambert, he added: "Hear that? It’s termed ’Cavalry-Tank Coordination’."

Lambert nodded, eyes fixed intently on the tank.

Yet Hamilton nearby showed no ease, appearing reluctant to voice concerns: "Sir, tactics elude me. But..."

Hamilton rubbed his grease-smeared head, directing a scrawny youth clutching a hefty ledger to step up: "Costs and supply chains? Toby can brief you. Gold Coin figures overwhelm me."

Named Toby, the clerk trembled at the summons, clutching his ledger tightly as he rushed ahead.

"M... my lord!" Toby pushed up his sliding spectacles, stammering, "Per... per the mechanics team's estimates..."

"Numbers only," Louis cut in sharply.

"Yes!" Toby gulped, flipping open the book, "The prototype, factoring development and wasted materials, consumed nine thousand eight hundred Gold Coins total. That single test fired off sixty Gold Coins in fuel and shells."

The surrounding young Knights inhaled sharply at the sum.

Nearly ten thousand Gold Coins? Sufficient for acquiring a thriving village!

"Per-unit cost..." Toby's finger traced the page, "Right now, Red Tide Type One production runs one thousand two hundred Gold Coins. That matches a Lord's full yearly earnings."

Gray whispered under his breath, "Insane... a thousand-plus Gold Coins for scrap metal? Could snag land in the North."

"It’s just a prototype."

Hamilton interjected: "Mass production means molding parts over blacksmith forging each one. Prices drop sharply."

Toby bobbed his head eagerly: "Right! Should... should we set up sir's assembly line, first ten units might hit around six hundred Gold Coins apiece."

"Six hundred Gold Coins..."

Lambert murmured the amount softly. A vast sum for common folk, yet fitting for battlefield engines...

Louis seized the ledger, barely skimming figures before snapping it shut and returning it.

"Is it expensive?"

He spun around, scanning the assembled group, settling on Lambert.

"Lambert, forging an Extraordinary Knight like yourself—from age six building power, guzzling Magic Potions, hiring experts, ruining gear... plus that rarest fortune— what's the tally?"

Lambert paused briefly, replying quietly: "Incalculable, sir."

"Exactly."

Louis slapped the tank's rugged plating, eliciting a dull thud.

"With blueprints and supplies, Red Tide workshops churn out three monthly. Fueled up, it never wearies, dreads death, or bolts from crumbling spirits."