Chapter 309: Toxic?

"Yes, Commander!"

Timothy responded loudly.

Simon and Benjamin exchanged a glance before Simon began explaining the hollow square flintlock formation.

This was a battle-tested formation from later centuries, known for countering cavalry in countless historical wars.

On the open plains, forming a hollow square allowed 360-degree coverage, making it nearly impossible for reaver forces to flank, surprise, or encircle the formation without getting shredded by volleys.

Using wooden flintlock soldier figurines, Simon arranged the hollow square on the sandbox.

He also explained several variations, like large square formations, multiple coordinated small squares, and others for different tactical situations.

As for cavalry, Simon gave Timothy just one clear instruction: "No matter what happens, cavalry must always be able to charge in tight formation."

He spent the entire morning lecturing on flintlock formations, ending with a mock battle simulation between Brambleford troops and reaver forces to test the officers’ grasp of the tactics.

He also addressed emergency battlefield scenarios, like covering the firing mechanism with oilcloth when it rains.

By the end, Simon was parched and exhausted.

No surprise, he’d been lecturing not only on warfare but also on chemistry, physics, and math these days.

"My Lord, we’ll take our leave now," Benjamin said, leading the officers back to camp to continue studying.

"Wait," Simon called out.

"Take these training manuals with you. I can’t give lectures every day. I wrote them myself. Study them on your own. Collect any questions you don’t understand and bring them back later. Learning to study on your own is just as important."

This wasn’t laziness; Simon believed in self-motivation.

In the modern world, many were self-taught, and he didn’t want to spoon-feed them with rigid instruction.

So whether it was chemistry, physics, or mathematics, Simon encouraged self-study, with only occasional Q&A sessions.

The Oxford Academy had become a multidisciplinary institution, and Simon couldn’t handle everything alone.

After seeing the officers off, Simon didn’t return to the castle.

Instead, he strolled through the Oxford Academy.

The Academy had eight departments: Public Administration, Mathematics, Chemistry, Physics, Mineralogy, Medicine, Naval Academy, and Army Academy.

The Mathematics Department had one classroom.

Chemistry and Physics had two each.

Mineralogy had one.

Medicine had three.

The Navy and the Army each had one or two; the Army included infantry and artillery divisions.

In total, there were 3,000 students, comparable to a modern mid-sized school.

Some, like Benjamin and his officers, were part-time or occasional students.

The Academy also held special lectures on topics such as agriculture, engineering, hydrology, and journalism as needed.

Now that every department had proper textbooks, Simon felt more relaxed, and the students had begun forming a culture of self-study and academic discussion.

As he walked along the cement pathways, students carrying textbooks greeted him one after another.

Simon returned each greeting with a smile.

Here, he was the headmaster.

Looking at the elegant classical buildings, Simon felt a sense of pride.

The Oxford Academy’s construction was complete, and it was grand in scale.

Many classrooms still sat empty, reserved for future talent.

Once the current 3,000 students graduate, they will become the backbone of the Academy, responsible for educating future generations of scientific minds.

Simon eventually reached the academy dining hall.

It was large, with long benches and tables, very similar to modern cafeterias.

Many students were already eating.

To help students focus, meals and lodging were free, although the food was simple, just basic rice and steamed buns.

But even this modest food felt luxurious to poor students, who gratefully called it plain but generous.

"Boom!"

The loud sound of an explosion interrupted the lunchtime buzz.

Simon was just considering whether to join in when the noise came from the direction of the chemistry lab.

"Hahaha... That Chemistry Department again. Probably blew something up."

Some students glanced toward the lab, shrugged, and continued eating, completely used to it.

Simon also looked toward the chemistry lab.

He had assigned James and his team to begin establishing basic chemical industries, using what they had learned.

They were working on producing the three acids and two alkalis.

So far, they have successfully produced the two alkalis and sulfuric acid.

Only nitric acid and hydrochloric acid remained.

Curious about the explosion, Simon turned away from the dining hall and headed toward the lab.

At the lab entrance, he saw James and several students standing outside, covering their noses with wet towels.

"What happened?" Simon asked.

James quickly ran over, stopping him from getting closer.

"Don’t go in, My Lord. The air is toxic!"

"Toxic? What did you guys do this time?"

Simon half-laughed.

"My Lord, we just produced white phosphorus. But one of the students accidentally mixed in sulfur powder, and the test tube exploded."

Simon was stunned.

"You made white phosphorus?!"

"Yes, My Lord. And I smell like urine because that’s what we’ve been working with all week." James said proudly.

Simon burst out laughing, completely ignoring the explosion now.

"Tell me how you did it."

"It was in your textbook," James explained.

"We collected urine, evaporated it into residue, then mixed it with sand, charcoal, and rice, heated it, and piped the resulting gas into cold water, which gave us white phosphorus."

"We were about to heat it further to make red phosphorus when it blew up."

Simon nodded in satisfaction and patted James on the shoulder.

"Well done, James. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me."

Outside the chemistry lab, a group of Chemistry Department students stood nervously, not daring to go back in.

After all, they’d read in textbooks that burning white phosphorus releases toxic fumes, and when the explosion happened, they all ran out.

After receiving high praise from Simon, James couldn’t stop smiling.

"My Lord, your textbook was so detailed; without it, we could never have made white phosphorus." He said humbly.

"You’re modest, but it’s true," Simon replied.

"Book knowledge is dead until you bring it to life. You made this white phosphorus all on your own. I’m very pleased. I hope you’ll continue to make more chemical compounds and help build Brambleford’s chemical industry."

He had worried whether James and the others could carry out independent experiments.

Now he felt reassured.

As long as they had the desire to learn, these chemistry students could continue exploring and innovating on their own.

"Don’t worry, My Lord," James said, bowing.

"We owe everything, our food, clothing, shelter, to you. Without you, we’d still be slaves on the grasslands. For you, we would go through fire and water without hesitation!"

Simon helped him up.

"It’s good to be hardworking, but you must also stay safe. You’re precious to me. Even losing one of you would pain me deeply."

"Hehe..." James blushed at the praise.

Then he added, almost like showing off. "By the way, My Lord, I’ve recently come up with a new kind of cannon shell!"

"A new shell?"

Simon raised his eyebrows in interest.