Richard, the young master of the Baron's Castle, habitually viewed many aspects of this magical medieval world through the lens of science.

"So, will-o'-the-wisps are nothing more than phosphorus burning, and fish with human faces are just genetic mutations. As for fireball spells, they're merely small-scale chemical explosions, which could be achieved with a bag of flour.

But..."

"But were wolves transforming? That doesn't quite align with the law of conservation of mass. Even Lomonosov would be rolling in his grave." Richard glanced out the window, murmuring, "Seems it's time to catch a werewolf and dissect it for a thorough study."

"Well then... "

"First Guard Squad, set out!"

"The target: the Black Forest!"

Lightning flashed and thunder roared as torrential rain poured down!

The downpour raged across the wilderness, turning the world into a vast expanse of white, making it nearly impossible to find any trace of human presence.

The Baron's Castle, standing steadfast by a small river on the plain, remained unmoved. In one of its towers, the quiet was so profound that the sound of boiling liquid could be clearly heard in a room.

"Gurgle, gurgle..."

A young voice sounded, as if speaking to oneself or instructing another. The voice was young yet carried an air of seriousness.

"Distillation is a simple process, the principle being to separate components based on their different boiling points." A noble-looking boy, around fourteen or fifteen years old, dressed in a light blue short-sleeved shirt, explained in the room.

A young maid, about twelve or thirteen, dressed in maid's attire, listened to the boy's words, her wide eyes fixed on the "complicated apparatus" on the table.

The core of the apparatus was a copper basin heated by a stove, with water inside and a pot floating on the water. The pot was sealed, with only a bamboo tube extending outward. The long bamboo tube first led into a basin of cold water to cool down, and then into a small clay pot about the size of a fist.

"Drip, drip! Pshh, pshh!"

Liquid dripped continuously from the end of the bamboo tube into the small clay pot. Meanwhile, large clouds of white steam, carrying a slightly pungent smell of alcohol, rose from the pot and the middle of the bamboo tube.

"Master, are you distilling now?" The girl, Lucy, asked with a mix of awe and curiosity. "But why... why use wine?"

"Because I want to obtain pure alcohol for disinfection or making simple alcohol specimens, in preparation for the possible dissection of a 'werewolf' later. Didn't I just send Tuku and the others to the Black Forest to catch a 'werewolf'?" The fifteen-year-old Richard explained, then seemed to remember something and corrected himself.

"Of course, I can't say that this distillation process will yield 'absolutely pure' alcohol. To be precise, we will get 'relatively pure' alcohol. When water and alcohol mix, they form an azeotrope with a fixed boiling point. In this case, ordinary distillation will only yield this mixture, which is why alcohol concentration generally peaks at 95%."

"How can we get 'absolutely pure' alcohol then, Master?" Lucy asked curiously.

"To obtain 'absolutely pure' alcohol, we need a fractionating column for multiple fractional distillations, and then we must add calcium oxide, commonly known as quicklime, to remove the water. Given the current level of technology in this world, we can't even make a distillation flask, let alone a fractionating column. So, we have to simplify everything."

"Sigh." Richard couldn't help but sigh and continued, "This results in significant drawbacks. We won't get pure alcohol, and due to the crude apparatus, even obtaining 80% concentration is difficult. The best outcome is getting 75% medical alcohol, which is barely adequate for disinfection or making alcohol specimens. For other uses, forget it. But a bit is better than none, right?"

As Richard spoke, he sealed a small clay pot full of distilled alcohol and set it aside, then took out a new clay pot to continue collecting.

Lucy watched Richard busily and wanted to help but didn't know how, so she just stood there, feeling helpless.

To her, the second heir of the barony she had served for a year must be a mysterious alchemist or wizard. He often said things she couldn't understand and did things she couldn't figure out.

For her, it was more important not to cause trouble than to help. So, unless ordered otherwise, she listened quietly and tried to remember and understand the obscure words he said. She might be able to answer his questions later since he often did that.

By now, Richard had replaced the clay pot and walked to the tower room's window, glancing at the white curtain of rain outside. He asked Lucy softly, "How long has Tuku and the First Guard Squad been gone?"

"About... maybe two hours, I think." Lucy answered hesitantly, not very sure.

Richard didn't mind much, only his eyes flickered as he said, "About two hours, huh? Considering the impact of rain on their movement, it should be just enough time for a round trip to the Black Forest on horseback. In that case, I hope they don't come back within the next hour..."

"Ah?" Lucy blinked, not quite understanding Richard's words but dared not ask further.

Richard explained, "It's simple. They're searching for the rumored werewolf! According to the rumors, a werewolf has the combat power of three to five adult men, and Tuku and his men are only ten in total. In this weather, it would take at least an hour to subdue a werewolf without significant losses.

Adding the time to find the werewolf and any unforeseen delays, it would take even longer. So, under normal circumstances, they should return three and a half to four hours after departure. If they return sooner, it can only mean they didn't catch the werewolf or..."

"Or?" Lucy looked up expectantly.

Richard didn't continue, only narrowed his eyes and frowned slightly, "I hope it's not... the possibility I dread most."

Half an hour later.

The rain gradually eased, and the Baron's Castle by the river appeared somewhat renewed after the wash of the rain. On the wilderness road leading to the castle, a group of people rode towards the castle.

"Thud, thud!"

Horse hooves splashed through the muddy ground, sending up sprays of mud and drenching the riders in muck. Occasionally, the hooves would slip, but under the riders' control, the horses regained balance and continued galloping toward the castle.