Chapter 62 : Chapter 62
Chapter 62 : Material Issue
“Professor,” one of the investigators said, raising his head. “The preliminary test results are out. The mana reaction in the residual liquid… is abnormally strong. It is at least four times stronger than the standard loss-of-control intensity of an Ice Crystal Flower potion.”
Professor Horne nodded, his expression showing no surprise.
“And the operating procedure?” he asked.
“Based on the residue, the procedure was correct. The measurements were accurate, the order of solvent addition was correct, and the heating temperature remained within the standard range.” The investigator paused. “Unless he made unrecorded adjustments during the heating process… this level of explosive power should not result from an operational mistake.”
The professor remained silent for several seconds.
He walked to the material distribution area and took several unopened double-layered glass bottles from the box—spare containers of Ice Crystal Flower powder.
He opened one of them and poured a small amount of powder into a testing dish.
The pale blue powder shimmered faintly in the light. It appeared perfectly normal.
But when the professor rubbed it between his fingers, his brows furrowed.
“The texture is wrong,” he said. “It is too coarse. Proper Ice Crystal Flower powder should be as fine as flour. These have a slight graininess.”
The investigator leaned closer to examine it. “Grinding irregularities during transportation?”
“More than that.” The professor shook his head.
He took out a testing strip and sprinkled a small amount of powder onto it.
The strip changed color immediately—but instead of the expected pale blue, it turned into a mottled grayish-blue.
“The mana distribution is uneven,” the professor said coldly. “Inside these powders… the energy structure is unstable. It is as though the material was forced to stop midway while transitioning from a stable state into a wave state, leaving internal stress within the particles.”
He looked up at the investigator.
“Ice Crystal Flowers must be stored at low temperatures throughout the entire process. From harvesting to grinding to sealing, the temperature must never exceed minus ten degrees. If the temperature control fails—even for only a few minutes—the ice-element crystals within the petals begin to break apart, shifting from a stable crystalline structure into chaotic energy clusters. If they are then rapidly cooled again, they still appear to be powder on the surface. But internally…”
“They become bombs,” the investigator finished, his expression darkening.
The professor nodded.
“Fischer’s procedure was correct. Precisely because his operation was standardized and his heating was uniform, it allowed the unstable energy within the powder to release all at once. If he had been careless, or if his heating had been slower, the potion might simply have failed instead of exploding like this.”
He paused, then added,
“Furthermore, this batch of materials arrived only yesterday morning. If the temperature insulation failed at some point during transport… the entire shipment may be compromised.”
The investigator recorded the note quickly.
“Who is the supplier?”
“The Northern Merchant Guild,” the professor replied. “However, transportation this year is handled by a newly organized convoy of theirs. I will retrieve the transport records and check whether any irregularities occurred during transit.”
The investigation concluded quickly.
The conclusion was clear.
The accident had been caused by faulty materials, not by student error. Responsibility lay with the supplier. The academy would issue a formal letter of accountability and demand compensation.
Students were gradually permitted to leave.
Before they departed, Professor Horne called everyone to a halt.
“The examination results will be graded normally,” he said, his voice returning to its usual dry tone. “Those who completed the potion using qualified materials will be graded according to product quality. Those whose materials were defective… the academy will arrange a retest.”
He spoke calmly, but the meaning was obvious.
This matter ended here.
When Ryan left the classroom, the sun was already slanting toward the horizon.
Orange-red light cut through the corridor windows, stretching long, twisted shadows across the floor.
He walked along the tree-lined path toward the dormitory, but his mind replayed everything that had just happened.
The professor’s explanation was reasonable.
Temperature insulation had failed during transportation. The material’s properties changed, causing an abnormal explosion.
Everything made sense.
But certain details…
For example, why had only Fischer’s portion exploded? If the entire batch of materials had problems, why had nothing happened to the others?
For example, the unusually dark liquid in his own beaker, and the excessive release of cold energy…
Was that really just “individual variation”?
Why did he feel such a vague sense of unease?
Ryan slowed his pace.
He raised his head and looked at the sky.
Dusk was descending. The clouds had turned deep purple, like coagulated blood.
In the distance, the clock tower struck six.
The sound of the bell passed through the evening air, dull and distant.
The academy’s response had been swift. The conclusion had been clear.
Everything appeared to have returned to normal.
But Ryan knew that some things, once cracked, could never truly return to what they were before.
Just like Fischer’s arm.
Even if the highest level of regenerative magic could restore it, it would never again be the same arm.
Just like the deep blue ice with its fractured patterns.
Even if the ice melted and the water dried, the marks would remain—on the table, and in memory.
The aftermath of the potion class accident rippled through the academy.
Accidents had happened before in previous years.
Excessive heating could cause minor splashes. Incorrect ingredient ratios could ruin a potion. Occasionally a student’s mistake might even shatter a beaker.
But those incidents had always remained within manageable limits.
At worst, someone might get splashed with potion liquid, burn the back of their hand, or break one or two glass containers.
The professor at the lectern always had time to intervene, and the emergency magic arrays on the walls were always ready to activate.
But this time was different.
The explosion caused by the Ice Crystal Flower had far exceeded the scope of an ordinary classroom accident.
Every experimental table within a three-meter radius of the explosion had been destroyed. The wooden surfaces had shattered into radiating fragments.
Glass shards had embedded themselves in the wall five meters away.
Among the students closest to the blast, Fischer’s arm had been crippled, three students had suffered facial lacerations from flying fragments, one had ruptured an eardrum, and seven had suffered varying degrees of mana shock, requiring at least a week of rest to recover.
Most dangerous of all was the cold.
The ice-element energy released by the explosion had transformed the back half of the classroom into a temporary freezing chamber.
The temperature had dropped below minus twenty degrees.
If Professor Horne had not deployed the barrier in time, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
The destructive power of that explosion had approached the level of an Ice Explosion Spell.
Such spells were normally used by military engineering units to clear frozen ground, or by adventurers to carve emergency shelters into mountain ice.
The disciplinary committee intervened overnight.
The classroom was completely sealed.
All materials were confiscated and sent for testing.
Every student’s operational record was repeatedly reviewed.
Investigators even retrieved all transport records from the Ice Crystal Flower supplier over the past three months, tracing each shipment from the northern mining region to the academy’s storage warehouse.
The entire junior division of the academy was in an uproar.
Students discussed the incident everywhere—in corridors, in the cafeteria, on the training grounds.
Lower-year students crowded around the notice board to read the latest announcements.
Upper-year students gathered together to analyze possible explanations.
Even the intermediate division had heard about the incident. Several intermediate students who knew the Fischer family came specifically to the junior division to inquire about the situation.