Translator: CinderTL
The icy wind of the Rocky Mountains howled at the mouth of the abandoned mine, like the growl of an ancient beast.
Derson Plant stood at the edge of the opening, gazing at the charred remains of Black Powder thirty paces away. Only a blackened scar remained on the rock wall, the rock itself completely intact, with barely a crack to be seen.
His brow furrowed, the test record clutched in his gloved hand flapping in the biting wind. Behind him, several combat engineers were packing the remaining explosives into crates, their movements slow and weary.
"This stuff won't bring down a mountain," he muttered to himself. "To collapse the dwarves' intricate tunnels, we'd need tons of it—just transporting it up here would take half a supply train."
This would undoubtedly add a crushing logistical burden to the already difficult mountain warfare.
He turned and left the mine. Paul's orders had been clear: assess the effectiveness of current explosives against the mountain's fortifications. The results were equally clear: the available Black Powder was insufficient to deal with the dwarves' underground tunnel network.
Several days later, in Alden Town.
The Weiss Academy Chemistry Department's conference room was located on the third floor of the main building. Glass cabinets lined the walls, displaying a colorful array of minerals, distillation apparatus, and reagent bottles marked with danger symbols.
The conference room was dominated by a massive, rectangular table crafted from a single slab of black oak. Its surface was etched with formulas and doodles left behind by generations of students and professors.
When Derson entered the room, several chemists were already seated.
Professor Hoffman sat at the head of the table, his neatly trimmed gray beard framing his face as he reviewed a report on nitrate field production.
He looked up at Derson. "Welcome to the Chemistry Department. The academy informed us that an Intelligence Department official wished to meet with us. I presume that's you, Mr. Plant. Is there an urgent matter?"
As head of the Chemistry Department, Professor Hoffman was understandably nervous. The Intelligence Department was a powerful entity, and he couldn't help but wonder if there had been a leak of sensitive information or if a spy had infiltrated their ranks. After all, their research dealt with highly sensitive materials.
"My name is Derson Plant. I apologize for taking you away from your busy schedules. Please don't worry; I'm here to ask for your assistance."
Derson scanned the room, taking in the faces of Hoffman, Wells, Tennyson, and Marco—each a leading figure in the Chemistry Department.
"Gentlemen," he began, his voice low and solemn, "I'll explain my purpose. As you know, I serve in the Intelligence Department. There are matters I shouldn't discuss, but this concerns the safety of Aldor. Lord Paul has granted me special permission to share some truths with you."
He paused, ensuring everyone's attention was focused on him.
"We have reason to believe that the dwarves of the Rocky Mountains—at least some of the Dwarf Clans—may have allied with the orcs. They opened mountain passages for the orcs, allowing the enemy to bypass our natural defenses and launch a surprise attack on our northern territory defenses from within the Rocky Mountains."
A wave of astonishment swept through the conference room.
"The Rocky Mountains are passable by armies?"
Wells frowned, while Hoffman wore an expression of disbelief.
Even these scholars, who spent their days immersed in research, understood the implications.
"Over thousands of years, passed down through generations of dwarves, they built a vast network of tunnels within their mountain domain," Derson continued. "If they've truly sided with the enemy, these tunnels will become a deadly military advantage."
He placed the test records on the table. "I just returned from an old mine on the edge of the Rocky Mountains. I tested the destructive power of existing Black Powder against rock formations, and the results were far from satisfactory. Collapsing a section of tunnel would require an enormous amount of gunpowder, making transportation and deployment costs prohibitive and entirely impractical for military operations."
He looked directly at the assembled crowd. "Lord Grayman requires a new explosive—one with far greater power per unit volume than Black Powder, capable of collapsing tunnel sections dozens of meters long in a single blast. It must be stable, mass-producible, lightweight, and suitable for mountain warfare."
After the report had circulated among the group, Wells slowly closed it and asked, "Are you asking us to create 'thunder that can tear mountains apart'?"
"Yes," Derson nodded. "If the Stonemason Clan truly sides with the orcs, we cannot allow these mountain tunnels to remain a sword hanging over our heads. And if we go to war with the dwarves, their tunnels will be incredibly difficult to deal with. We can't rely on manpower to clear every hidden passage—we must make the mountain itself collapse."
Hoffman stroked his chin, muttering, "Black Powder has reached its limit. We've tested hundreds of different ratios of saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal, but further optimization yields no more than a thirty percent increase in power."
The chemists exchanged glances.
Hoffman instructed, "Marco, go fetch those three sample types!"
"Yes, Professor!" Marco hurried out of the conference room.
A moment later, he returned, carrying three sealed vials marked with red Runes. Each vial contained a tiny amount of an unknown substance.
He placed them on the table with extreme care, as if handling the eggs of venomous snakes.
"Mr. Plant," Hoffman said in a low voice, "regarding the high-energy explosives you requested, we've already made some progress."
"Oh?" Derson was overwhelmed with surprise. His gaze darted between the three sealed vials.
Hoffman continued, "But reality isn't as simple as battlefield reports suggest—every step we take is like walking on a powder keg."
He pointed to the first vial, which contained a dark yellow crystalline powder. "This is mercury fulminate, extracted from the reaction of mercury and nitric acid. It has an extremely powerful detonating force, capable of being ignited by a single spark. We're studying its use as a fuse to replace traditional match cords and flint-and-steel strikers. But it's incredibly sensitive—it detonated twice during grinding, and nearly killed a lab assistant last month."
Derson stared at the vial, his brow furrowed in concern.
Hoffman pointed to the second container, filled with a damp, grayish-white paste. "This is silver fulminate, made by reacting silver, nitric acid, and alcohol. It detonates ten times faster than Black Powder, and its shockwave is powerful enough to shatter stone walls. But it's far more unstable—in its dry state, even a slight vibration or direct sunlight can trigger an explosion. We can only store it wet, but once it's transported up the mountain and the moisture evaporates..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but his meaning was clear.
"The third," Hoffman's voice grew heavier, "is a compound we synthesized only recently—picric acid. Originally a dye, we discovered during testing that dry picric acid crystals have an explosive power far exceeding Black Powder, capable of blasting through half-inch-thick wrought iron plates."
He paused, his gaze solemn. "But its problem is even more critical—it reacts with metal containers, forming even more sensitive metal salts. We once stored it in an iron can, and it detonated after just three days. Now we're forced to use ceramic or wooden boxes, which are completely unsuitable for battlefield transport."
The conference room fell silent.
Wells murmured, "Mercury fulminate is too brittle, silver fulminate is too volatile, and picric acid... it's like a beast in dye's clothing—you never know when it'll bite."
(End of the Chapter)
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