Chapter 39: Mid-Term Assignment

Chapter 39: Chapter 39: Mid-Term Assignment

Leaving Lecture Hall 7A as the crowd began to disperse, Rowan wove through the animated chatter of students and headed toward the eastern edge of the Sol-Aethel Academy grounds.

The eastern sector was reserved for the advanced practical test sites—a sprawling expanse of enclosed agricultural plots where upper-tier students and research faculty tested high-grade cultivars. Rowan walked past lush, vibrant plots surrounded by humming mana barriers until he reached the far corner.

Plot 36.

Compared to the thriving green plots nearby, Plot 36 looked like a desolate wasteland. The earth was a pale, chalky gray, cracked open in dry, jagged fissures that extended deep into the subsoil. Centuries of aggressive over-farming and improper catalyst applications had drained the land’s natural mana conduits, leaving behind a dead Grade-F soil matrix that couldn’t even support wild weeds.

Rowan stepped past the wooden boundary post and crouched down at the edge of the plot. He picked up a handful of dirt, rubbing it between his thumb and fingers. It crumbled into coarse, lifeless dust, devoid of any moisture or ambient resonance.

[ SOIL ANALYZER INTERFACE ]

TARGET LOCATION: Academy Practical Grounds (Plot 36)

MATRIX GRADE: Grade-F (Severely Depleted)

DIAGNOSTIC DATA:

* Vitality Density: 1.2% (Critical Deficiency)

* Mineral Conductance: 0.04 Siemens/m

* Ambient Absorption Rate: Near Zero

* Primary Defect: Calcified Strata & Severely Fractured Mana Lineage

EVALUATION:

* Unsuitable for standard E-Grade crop germination. High failure rate expected.

Rowan let the dead dust trickle through his fingers back onto the ground. Standard agricultural methods would require weeks of tilling, expensive elemental clay infusions, and constant mana injection just to raise this dirt back to a weak Grade-E baseline.

’That’s why Vane chose this site for the Mid-Term exam,’ Rowan thought, a calm smile touching his lips. ’He wants to see who actually understands soil restoration from the roots up.’

Checking his surroundings to ensure no other students were nearby, Rowan reached into his satchel and withdrew a small velvet pouch. Inside lay the dark, vibrant roots harvested from one of his newly revived Obsidian Roots inside Eden.

Unlike standard crops that consumed soil nutrients to grow, the ancient pre-collapse Obsidian Root operated as an active purification engine. Its deep-purple vascular system absorbed toxic mineral calcification and re-stitched broken mana lines from deep underground.

Using his hand trowel, Rowan dug a narrow, deep trench along the central axis of Plot 36, reaching down past the dried crust to the underlying bedrock layer. He carefully set the active Obsidian Root system into the base of the trench and packed the chalky dirt over it.

Rowan adjusted his posture, turning his broad shoulders toward the main walkway to create a solid blind spot with his back. He leaned low over the trench as if merely checking the soil temperature with his hand, completely obscuring the small glass vial hidden within his palm.

With a smooth, practiced tilt of his wrist, he let a few drops of the diluted primordial tree fluid trickle precisely over the buried Obsidian Root.

The moment the high-purity fluid seeped into the dry earth, a low, rhythmic vibration rippled through the plot.

[ SOIL RESTORATION INITIATED ]

CATALYST APPLIED:

* Active Obsidian Root System (Pre-Collapse Cultivar)

* Medium: Diluted Primordial Fluid Buffer

MATRIX TRANSFORMATION IN PROGRESS:

* Phase 1: Calcified Mineral Neutralization ──── Active

* Phase 2: Mana Conduit Re-stitching ────────── Pending (~24 Hours)

ESTIMATED MATRIX UPGRADE: Grade-F ➔ Grade-E+

From the central planting spot, hairline cracks of dark, obsidian-tinted soil began spreading outward beneath the surface like a subterranean web. The chalky gray color of the surrounding dirt slowly darkened, regaining a faint, moist sheen as the ancient root began drawing ambient atmospheric mana down into the cracked earth.

The high-purity fluid was absorbed into the dry earth instantly without a single splash. Rowan casually wiped his fingers in the dirt, stood up, and dusted off his trousers, looking every bit like a student simply inspecting a challenging plot before heading back to the main academy grounds.

Rowan stood up, dusting off his hands. In twenty-four hours, while his classmates would still be struggling to keep their Grade-F soil from collapsing, Plot 36 would be fully transformed into a rich, Grade-E+ matrix—primed to yield flawless crops for the upcoming evaluation.

***

Leaving the practical grounds behind, Rowan crossed the central plaza toward the academy’s western quad. Long before he reached the heavy stone archway of the Blacksmithing Faculty, the steady clang-clang-clang of hammers against anvils echoed through the stone corridors, accompanied by the dry heat of stoked mana-furnaces and the sharp scent of hot iron and quenching oil.

Rowan pushed through the massive bronze doors into the main forge hall. Sparks showered the air in glittering arcs as dozens of students sweated over glowing ingots, their hammers rising and falling in disciplined rhythm.

In the high-grade bays near the rear of the hall stood Barney Ironforge. The stout young dwarf had his sleeves rolled up to his biceps, wiped sweat from his brow with the back of a soot-stained forearm, and was admiring a freshly quenched, silver-runed focus-chisel resting on his anvil.

"Still working even after taking the top spot on the leaderboard?" Rowan called out over the metallic din, walking up to Barney’s bay.

Barney turned, his broad face instantly splitting into a massive, booming grin. "Rowan! Speak of the devil!" He set his heavy ball-peen hammer down with a solid thud and wiped his hands on his leather apron. "Har! Did you see the looks on those high-and-mighty Evocation and Combat snobs in 7A? They nearly choked on their own pride seeing an agriculturalist and a smith sitting right at the bloody top!"

Rowan chuckled, offering a firm hand. "Congratulations, Barney. Ranked number one in Blacksmithing with a perfect hundred points. That’s no small feat."

Barney gripped Rowan’s hand in a crushing, soot-covered handshake, slapping him on the shoulder. "Right back at you, lad! First time in Sol-Aethel history an Agriculture student takes Rank 1 overall on Week One. My old man’s going to raise a tankard of ale all the way back in the mountain halls when he gets the academy newsletter."

Barney leaned back against his anvil, crossing his arms with a look of genuine pride. "They had us forging a Grade-D mana-conduction core under a tight three-hour limit. Most of the class tried to rush the tempering with standard water quenching, but I used a slow, triple-layered heat pulse to lock the matrix in place. Flawless structure." He gestured toward his workbench. "What about you? I hear Senior Lecturer Vane handed you Plot 36 for the mid-term practical. That dry piece of stone is a nightmare."

"It’s definitely depleted," Rowan said smoothly, a quiet, confident smile touching his lips. "But nothing a proper foundation can’t fix. Give it twenty-four hours, and it’ll be ready for planting."

Barney laughed heartily, nodding approvingly. "That’s what I like about you, Rowan—never flustered, always got a plan. Tell you what, once we both wrap up these practical exams, the first round at the tavern outside the gates is on me!"

"Hold you to that," Rowan replied with a grin.