The frigid wind of the Rocky Mountains howled at the mouth of the abandoned mine, like the low growl of an ancient giant beast.
Delson Plante stood at the edge of the entrance, gazing at the remains of the ignited Black Powder thirty paces away. Only a charred mark remained on the stone wall. The rock itself was undamaged, with barely even a crack to be seen.
His brow was tightly furrowed. The test report clutched in his gloved hand fluttered in the cold wind, while several sappers behind him packed up the remaining powder, their movements dull and weary.
"This stuff can't bring down a mountain," he muttered. "To collapse the dwarves' crisscrossing tunnels, we'd need several tons. Just hauling it up there would cost us half a transport convoy."
There was no doubt that this would place a heavy logistical burden on the already difficult mountain campaign.
He turned and left the mine. Lord Paul's orders had been clear: assess the destructive power of existing blasting methods against the mountain fortifications. The result was equally clear—existing Black Powder was insufficient to deal with the dwarves' underground tunnel network.
Several days later, Lakeheart Town.
The meeting room of the chemistry department at the Ves Institute was located on the third floor of the main building. Glass cabinets were set into the walls, displaying various ores, distillers, and reagent bottles marked with danger symbols.
A huge table stood in the meeting room. Made from a single piece of black oak, its surface was covered with formulas and doodles left behind by teachers and students.
When Derson entered the room, several chemists were already seated.
Professor Hoffman sat at the head of the table. His gray-white beard was neatly trimmed, and he was flipping through a report on Saltpeter Field's output.