In the afternoon, Murphy, dressed in deep blue Knight’s Armor with a Longsword at his waist, rode to a river valley a few miles northwest of the castle.

This was a stretch of rapids in the Monte Territory, now bisected by a stone dam.

The main body of the dam, built from reinforced concrete, stood fifteen meters tall, spanning the gorge like a city wall.

On top of the dam, several enormous water wheels turned slowly under the impact of the river, letting out a low, rhythmic rumble.

The water flowed through an expertly designed system of sluice gates into several stone-lined canals, which snaked toward the distant workshop district like silver veins.

"My Lord." An old, stooped figure approached to greet him.

It was Arthur, a man nearing seventy.

His hair was completely white, his face deeply lined with age. His once-sharp eyes had grown cloudy, but the reverence in his gaze was undiminished as he bowed solemnly to Murphy.

"Arthur." Murphy gave a slight nod, his gaze never leaving the slowly turning water wheels. "How are things?"

"Everything is running smoothly, My Lord," Arthur said, his voice filled with pride. "After the spring floods, we followed your instructions and cleared all the feeder canals. We also reinforced the bearings on the eastern second water wheel. Now is when the water is at its most powerful, and all the workshops have more than enough power."

Murphy walked over to an observation platform on the side of the dam, and Arthur followed close behind.

From this vantage point, they had a clear view of how the water, guided by the canals, drove the large and small water wheels in the workshop district downstream.

"The water wheels for the textile workshops run day and night," Arthur said, pointing to a sprawling complex of buildings in the distance. "The new water-powered spinning machines are twenty times more efficient than the old hand-cranked models. Now, the cotton yarn we produce is sold not only in the Vilt Kingdom, but also exported as far south as the Castile Kingdom. We even sell it across the western channel to the Albion Islands."

Murphy’s gaze shifted to the other side, to the smelting district.

Several blast furnaces had been built along the water. Enormous water wheels drove their bellows, providing a steady, powerful draft for the furnace fires.

"The smelting workshops are an even better story," Arthur continued his report. "With a stable, water-powered draft, the furnace temperatures are much higher than when we relied on manpower, and the efficiency of smelting iron ore has increased dramatically. The craftsmen say the pig iron we produce now is more uniform and has fewer impurities."

Just then, a young man dressed in Leather Armor with a Longsword at his waist strode toward them.

He was about fifteen or sixteen years old, with an upright posture, black hair, and black eyes. There was a faint resemblance to a younger Arthur in his features.

He dropped to one knee before Murphy, the movement clean and efficient.

"Luke, reporting for duty, Lord Governor."

Murphy looked him over. "Rise. I hear you passed the Knight’s trial last month?"

The young man rose, unable to hide the pride on his face. "Yes, My Lord! I am now an Attendant to Knight Davies, assigned to patrol the eastern side of the dam." He snuck a glance at his grandfather Arthur before adding, "I will defend this dam with my life. I won’t let anyone damage the lifeblood of the Monte Territory."

Arthur looked at his grandson, a flicker of pride in his eyes, though it was barely perceptible. His tone, however, remained stern. "Remember your oath, boy. This dam is the lifeline of the entire territory—far more important than your own life."

"I understand, Grandfather." Luke straightened his back. "I will personally inspect the eastern canals and sluice gates every day to make sure nothing goes wrong."

A small smile played on Murphy’s lips.

Ten years ago, he had personally designed the structure of the dam, calculated the dimensions of the water wheels, and planned the route of the canals.

During its construction, he had been on-site almost every day, working with the stonemasons and carpenters to solve problems.

Now, the dam not only provided steady power for textile production and smelting, but it also solved the irrigation problems for the farmland downstream.

The once-barren river valley had become the most prosperous industrial district in the Monte Territory.

"Go about your business, Luke," Arthur told his grandson. "The Lord Governor is going to inspect the core machinery room."

The young man bowed once more, then turned and left, his stride firm.

Murphy and Arthur walked along the top of the dam toward the central control room.

Inside, several massive gears were turning slowly, distributing the power from the water wheels to the various canals through a precision transmission system.

"With this dam," Arthur said, his voice thick with emotion as he gazed at the orderly machines, "the Monte Territory finally has its own foundation. We are no longer constrained by the seasons or limited by manpower. Those Lords in the South still can’t figure out how our Northern Territory, so poor in mineral veins, can produce steel and cloth of a higher quality than theirs."

Murphy reached out to gently stroke the smooth surface of a gear, feeling the power coursing through it.

"Stay vigilant, Arthur," Murphy added as a final reminder. "This dam is too important. Nothing can be allowed to go wrong."

"I’ll stake my life on it, My Lord." The old Knight’s Attendant straightened his stooped back, his eyes shining with a resolute light.

Murphy then walked toward an unremarkable iron door in the depths of the machinery room and produced a specially made key from his coat.

"Wait here," Murphy told Arthur, his voice calm but allowing no argument.

"Yes, My Lord." Arthur halted at once, standing in place with his head bowed.

He knew full well that the area behind that door was the dam’s most vital secret, a place that even a Knight’s Attendant like him was not qualified to enter.

Even after Murphy’s figure disappeared behind the iron door, Arthur maintained his respectful posture.

The old Knight’s Attendant gazed at the closed iron door, a complex mix of emotions swirling in his cloudy eyes.