Mike approached with a face full of excitement, his beard still speckled with coal dust, yet his entire demeanor was so spirited it seemed he could nearly fly.
"Lord Louis, you've finally come." He lowered his voice, but couldn't conceal the pride in his tone, "Lord Louis, the armor is ready."
In the center of the main hall, the space once piled with ores was completely cleared, and right in the center stood a tall prototype of the armor.
The surface shimmered with a gray-silver glint, the lines sharp but softened with craftsmanship.
Craftsmen and apprentices moved around it, some inspecting the joints, others adjusting valves, while someone was wiping the engravings on the breastplate with a cloth.
Neatly lined up against the wall were spare parts and material samples, clearly prepared for a full "Lord's inspection" process.
