Chapter 573: Chapter 226 I also want to watch_1
Through the teleportation array at Roland City, Ange and his company returned to the City of the Goddess of Beauty the next day. Along the way, he had conveniently brewed a batch of beetroot wine and brought it out for those Dwarven “wine connoisseurs” to taste.
Upon taking a sip, the Dwarven wine tasters immediately scrunched up their faces. Despite their grimaces, they finished off every drop of the wine.
Seeing this, everyone else also frowned.
Negris flitted over and asked, “How was it? Is the wine good?”
The drunken dwarf, pointing at Negris, chuckled, “Ha ha, Little Fat Dragon, let’s catch you and roast you…”
“Lightning!” Negris shouted to his rear.
The Lightning, who was graciously rubbing his forehead under the Purple Corpse’s playful wrath, promptly ran over and gave a powerful shock to the drunken dwarf, instantly snapping him back to sobriety.
“How was the wine? Good?” Negris asked with a beamy smile.
The dwarf obediently shook his head.
“Then why did you drink it all?” Negris asked, puzzled.
The dwarf quickly replied: “But it’s wine! How could we waste it? Even if it turned sour, we need to drink it, otherwise, it would be disrespectful to the god of wine.” He even licked his lips after speaking.
His actions clearly showed that it wasn’t about respect or disrespect, but he was simply a glutton for wine.
Negris shook his head, disappointed: “Useless. Oh well, let them go.”
Wine tasting is about discerning good quality. If you consume everything in sight without any regard for quality – guzzling down even spoiled brews – how could you appreciate good wine? These dwarfs clearly weren’t qualified wine tasters.
As Negris turned to leave, though, he felt his thigh being clasped. A burly dwarf with a face full of beard squeezed out a “friendly and kind” smile which nearly scared Negris:
“My Lord, don’t fire us! We promise to drink less from now on. We’re all dwarf warriors – strong, ferocious, and invincible. If you keep us, we won’t let you down!”
“Huh? I meant to set you free, not fire you. What’s gotten into you?”
“No, no, no, we don’t want freedom! We want wine! Give us wine! We are the most ferocious dwarf warriors, invincible!” The dwarf showed off his biceps and patted his chest to signal their toughness.
Negris was left speechless. In order not to lose their jobs, the dwarfs clung desperately to Negris’s leg, almost breaking it. In the end, he agreed to keep the dwarf warriors in return for 10 kilograms of wine per month, as well as providing their food and accommodation.
Long after, the dwarven leader, Copper Beard, revealed why they insisted on staying. It was because the wine brewed by Lord Ange was potent. Although it didn’t taste great, it was strong enough to floor all of them.
Normally, they could drink up to five kilograms of the strongest human-made liquor before drunk.
But the horrible tasting brew was a one-time thing. The second batch tasted normal, the third was delicious, and by the fourth, they couldn’t find enough words to praise it.
The potency remained the same, of course. Especially the aged beetroot wine, which gave the dwarfs so much strength that their power increased by a level every time they drank it—much like Luther chewing on beetroot.
“Is this the human distilling furnace?” Durken circled the distilling furnace a few times, understanding each part’s function. He then took up the Gold-touch Stick and materials and began to touch them.
What was rough became refined, what was heavy became light, what was perplexing became simple. Before long, the distilling furnace was as good as new.
“How is it? Is it acceptable?” Durken asked humbly. After all, this was a functional piece of equipment. He could improve it, but whether the changes were appropriate would be judged by the professionals.
The professional, a sixty-year-old human sommelier, eyed the upgraded distilling furnace with glowing eyes, nodding emphatically, “Yes, yes, more than acceptable! A magical distilling furnace—I never dared hope for such a thing in my life. It’s so expensive… you’re wasting—” he stopped midsentence, correcting himself, “—you’re so lavish.”
Upon hearing this, Durken glanced at him and tapped the sommelier’s head with the Gold-touch Stick. All his hair fell out at once, leaving a bald sommelier.
Indeed, not many were willing to use the magical distilling furnace to brew wine. One furnace’s life span could make an entire batch of wine, and even if all of it was sold, it would not recoup the cost of purchasing the furnace.
But Ange didn’t care about that. He even made the core part, the Decomposition Rod, out of a branch from the World Tree. This extravagant behavior was enough to make Durken want to punch someone. However, seeing the space filled with branches of the World Tree, Durken gradually got used to Ange’s luxury.
Twenty furnaces were lined up in a row, with Ange using the Ring of Balance to measure all the ingredients going into each one, ensuring that the materials added to every furnace were consistent.
Each apothecary jar went through a Purification to ensure cleanliness.
Then came the control group.
The Instant Death Halo could be a divine technique coveted by all sommeliers. It reduced the entire change process into a short period— ingredients could be sealed in the morning and have wine ready by the afternoon.
Ange used wheat, rice, beetroot, Dream Grass, Moon Grass, Kelp Rice, the Fruit of Life, World Tree Nectar, Axe Potato, and more as ingredients, paired accordingly with Moon Spring Water, Holy Water, well water, and seawater.
He paired this with strains of the Moon Spring Wine, Dwarven spirit, and several other human liquors, crossed pairs, and repeated comparisons.
There were several hundred combinations of these elements. With twenty furnaces in use three times a day, the test would be over in just over ten days.
Ange had once spent a few months cultivating ten thousand strains of the Gramineae plant to derive salt-water resistant rice, so this task was nothing in comparison.