Chapter 63 : Chapter 63
Chapter 63 : Dun-Dun-Dong
“Did you hear his hand is completely ruined?”
“The cold reached the bone. The physician said unless they can invite an archbishop-level divine caster…”
“Who did it? It must have been intentional, right?”
“They say it was a materials issue. The supplier’s temperature control failed during transport…”
The discussions surged like tides throughout every corner of the academy, rising and falling, leaving behind a sticky residue of suspicion and unease.
As direct witnesses of the incident, all students who had attended yesterday’s potion class were ordered to suspend all classes and remain in their dormitories while awaiting further notice.
Members of the disciplinary committee knocked on every dormitory door, conducting a second round of questioning. They verified each student’s timeline, operational details, and exact location when the accident occurred.
Ryan’s questioning took place yesterday evening.
Two disciplinary officers in dark-blue uniforms sat at his dormitory desk and asked a total of forty-seven questions.
From “Did you notice any abnormal temperature on the bottle when you received your materials?” to “Did you perceive any unusual mana fluctuations before the explosion?”
The questions were meticulous and probing, as though testing whether he was hiding something.
Ryan answered carefully.
Every response was based on facts, but he offered no unnecessary speculation.
When asked, “What do you believe may have caused the accident?” he simply replied,
“I was focused on my own operation and did not notice anything else.”
The interrogation lasted forty minutes.
Finally, the older officer closed his notebook and adjusted his glasses.
“Your potion product passed inspection, and your operation record shows no irregularities. For now, we have not found anything abnormal.”
Cosette only learned about the incident after Ryan returned to the dormitory.
She had not gone to the cafeteria to fetch food.
The academy had temporarily ordered that all students involved in the accident remain within the dormitory area until the investigation concluded. Meals would be delivered by the logistics staff.
When the servant placed the food tray outside the door, his face looked pale. His movements were so hurried that it seemed he was trying to escape.
When Ryan opened the door, Cosette was kneeling on the floor just inside.
Her hands gripped the edges of her apron tightly.
Her face looked paler than usual. The moment she heard the door open, her dark-brown pupils contracted sharply like those of a startled nocturnal animal.
“Master!”
She nearly lunged toward him.
Her hands grabbed Ryan’s sleeve, her fingers so tense that the joints had turned white.
Ryan hung his satchel on the hook behind the door and turned to look at her.
Cosette raised her face, her eyes rapidly scanning his face and body as if searching for wounds, blood, or any sign that something was wrong.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Cosette said nothing.
Her hand released his sleeve and instead grasped his hand.
It was a bold action. Normally she would never do something like that.
Her fingers were cold and damp with sweat. They trembled as they moved across the back of his hand, his wrist, and his arm—inch by inch—confirming that his body was whole.
“Are you… really all right?” she asked softly, her voice fragile.
“Really.”
Cosette stared into his eyes for a long time.
Within her dark-brown pupils swirled lingering fear, relief, and something deeper—something that resembled both anger and terror.
“I… I will heat the food,” she said as she stood, slightly unsteady. “The stew they delivered has already gone cold. I will warm it up… Master, please sit.”
She picked up the tray from the doorway and hurried to the small stove in the corner of the room.
The sound of a match striking was hurried.
When the flame burst to life in the stove, the sudden flare startled her. Her hand trembled, and the match fell to the floor.
Ryan walked over and picked up the extinguished matchstick.
Cosette stood with her back to him, her shoulders tense. Her dark-brown ponytail hung down her back, rising and falling faintly with her restrained breathing.
“Did it scare you?” he asked.
Cosette did not turn around.
Her fingers gripped the pot handle so tightly that her knuckles turned pale.
“…Yes,” she said quietly.
“In the cafeteria… everyone was talking about it. They said the explosion was huge. They said someone’s hand was ruined. They said… they said the whole classroom almost…”
Her voice trailed off.
Ryan stood behind her, watching her back.
This girl who was usually quiet and obedient, who hid all her emotions deep within her eyes, now had shoulders that trembled faintly.
He reached out a hand.
After hesitating briefly, he simply patted her shoulder lightly.
“I’m fine,” he said again, his voice gentler this time. “And I will be more careful from now on.”
“You must promise me,” she said.
“In the future… whatever you do, you must be more careful. Check the materials. Pay attention to your surroundings. And… and come back alive.”
Her voice trembled when she said the word “alive.”
Ryan looked at the light in her eyes.
It was a light mixed with fear, concern, and an unyielding determination.
He nodded.
“I promise.”
Cosette studied him for several seconds, as though confirming the sincerity of his words.
Then she turned back to the stove and resumed heating the food.
That night, the dormitory was quieter than usual.
Cosette did not sit on the bed reading as she normally did.
Instead, she curled up on a small stool by the wall, hugging her knees. Her gaze drifted toward Ryan from time to time, as though confirming that he was still there and still unharmed.
Ryan sat at the desk with the map of the Whispering Forest spread open before him.
But his eyes were unfocused.
His mind replayed everything from the day: the moment of the explosion, the shards suspended in midair, the fleeting warmth on his shoulder, and Professor Horne’s final conclusion.
Material defect.
Temperature control failure during transportation.
The entire shipment potentially compromised.
The next morning, Ryan awoke to the clock tower’s chime.
Six thirty.
The sky had not yet fully brightened.
Morning light seeped through the curtain gap, casting a long pale line across the floor.
The air held the coolness unique to autumn mornings, mixed with the scent of aged wood and dust from the dormitory building.
Ryan sat up and rubbed his brow.
He had not slept well.
In his dreams he had seen deep-blue liquid, exploding glass, and Fischer’s arm encased in ice.
Those scenes replayed in his mind like a broken magical projector.
Each repetition became clearer.
Colder.
Cosette was already awake.
She sat on the small carpet near the window, carefully polishing a set of white porcelain teacups.
When she heard the bed creak, she turned her head.
Her dark-brown eyes appeared especially clear in the morning light.
“Master is awake,” she said, setting down the teacup and standing. “I will prepare washing water.”
“I will do it myself.”
Ryan got out of bed and put on his uniform coat.
The fabric felt cool against his skin, sending a slight shiver through his body.
He walked to the window and pulled aside the curtain.
Outside, the sky was a dull leaden gray. The clouds hung low, as if rain might come at any moment.
The academy was strangely quiet.
At this hour there would normally be shouting from the martial students training on the practice field.
Today there was nothing.
A few lamps glowed in the distant main academic building, like lonely eyes floating in darkness.
The impact of the incident had not yet faded.
All related classes were suspended. Students were restricted in their movements. The entire junior division of the academy was enveloped in a heavy atmosphere.
Ryan finished washing and began organizing his desk.
He rolled up the map that had been left open yesterday and returned it to the shelf.
He stacked the draft papers filled with notes neatly and placed them in a drawer.
Finally, he picked up his charcoal pencil.
The tip had grown blunt, leaving a smudge of black on his fingers.
At that moment—
Someone knocked on the door.