Inside the Meeting Room, everyone's gaze still lingered on the piece of fabric.
Veylin smiled at its glow. But he did not lose himself in it. Just as Valerius opened his mouth to exclaim in admiration, Veylin raised a hand and pressed his palm downward, stopping the old Alchemist before he could speak.
"Save the celebrations for after victory."
Veylin's smile faded, settling the excitement that had just begun to stir in the Meeting Room. "Right now, we're racing against time. Time won't slow down just because we've invented a new technology."
His gaze swept across everyone seated along the long table, his expression serious.
"Tristan."
"Here." The young administrator immediately straightened, his pen already poised over his notebook.
"Clear out Warehouse No. 7 on the Development Department's third floor immediately, and clean it thoroughly. From now on, that will be our First Magic-Pattern Textile Mill."
"Yes, my lord!"
"Master." Veylin turned toward the old Alchemist beside him.
"My lord?" Valerius adjusted his glasses, his expression turning solemn.
"The Technology Department will take over Hans's prototype. Mobilize every intermediate- and high-level artisan under your command. Within three days, build a hundred working magic-pattern looms based on this prototype."
Valerius frowned slightly, swiftly calculating their production capacity. "Manpower should be easy enough to arrange. We only need to suspend some civilian orders. But my lord, ordinary pig iron certainly won't withstand high-intensity magical power transmission. We may need large quantities of refined steel and magic-conducting metal, and our stocks might..."
"Materials aren't a problem." Veylin interrupted him, leaning back slightly. "The spoils of war from Eastern Foothills Province and Golden Thread Province have already filled our warehouses. The refined steel armor those old nobles accumulated over centuries, their mithril jewelry, the magical metals stripped from their castles... all of it belongs