The liquid had a strong aroma of wine, clearly the wine stored in the temple. The wine was scalding hot but not hot enough to burn anyone. The priests in the temple were clearly clueless about defending the city; they should have poured boiling water to injure the enemy, but these flustered priests ended up pouring unboiled wine, practically giving the enemy a bath.
The soldiers laughed as they prepared to rush in, slaughter, and then drink the wine. However, a torch was thrown from the temple, and as soon as it hit the ground, the wine instantly ignited, and the wine splashed on the soldiers also caught fire.
The soldiers screamed in agony, frantically slapping at the flames on their bodies, but the fire only grew more intense. Maurice shouted, "Roll on the ground! Quickly, roll!"
The burned soldiers finally reacted, hurriedly rolling on the ground. Just as the flames were about to go out, several more barrels of wine were poured from the temple, and the flames flared up again.
"What is this? How can wine burn?" Everyone retreated in terror, afraid of getting even a drop of wine on them.
"This is the Devil's Wine!" Maurice immediately made up a story. "If we hadn't caught it in time, their plot would have worked, and everyone who drank this wine would burn to death in hellfire. Even if you did good your whole life, you'd still end up in hell and suffer forever. But today, it doesn't matter; even if the Devil's Wine kills you, I can pray for you, and you'll go to heaven."
His words sounded inspiring, but the burned soldiers were still wailing on the ground, their skin blistered and flesh mangled. Experienced soldiers knew these injuries were almost incurable.
These severe burns would definitely get infected, and without penicillin or anti-inflammatory drugs, infection was nearly always fatal, relying only on the body's immune system. The injured soldiers kept wailing, and no matter how stirring Maurice's words were, they couldn't stop morale from dropping.
Philip stood dazed for a moment before remembering the urgent matter and asked Maurice, "Can you save them?"
"I..." Maurice hesitated. His healing spells might not cure such severe wounds. He didn't dare try; if he failed, it would mean Holiness's magic couldn't beat the wine god's flames.
"Can't you?" Philip insisted.
"It's not that I can't, but this is their fate," Maurice said gently.
"If it's fate, then there's no other way." Philip understood and turned to the first centurion, saying, "Don't let them suffer."
The first centurion nodded, drew his short sword, and ended the lives of the burned soldiers one by one. This way, they suffered less and morale didn't drop further.
"You've all seen what happens to those who disobey orders!" Philip said coldly. "You must obey my orders. No one else's words count except mine!"
Morris knew this was directed at him, but he had just lost so many men due to his misdirection that he was powerless to argue. He could only secretly mark this down as a debt to be repaid later.
The legionnaires watched the bodies of their comrades, who had been alive and well just a moment ago, and nodded in agreement.
"Continue to surround the temple. Bring up the siege weapons." Philip ordered.
Morale was low outside the temple, but inside there was a celebration. The priests and apprentices surrounded Linley, praising him: "Truly you are worthy of being the new Dionysus. Your divine power is truly amazing. Why is it that when you touch wine, it can burn?"
Of course alcohol can burn. The people here didn't know this because they didn't have access to high-purity alcohol at this time. Wine could have an alcohol content of seven or eight percent, but ancient wines could be more potent, sometimes reaching 15%. At least sixty percent alcohol is required to ignite, and anything below fifty percent won't burn no matter what.
The temple stored a large amount of wine; the cellar was full of it. Linley just happened to know how to distill alcohol from it. Alcohol boils at seventy-eight degrees, while water boils at one hundred degrees. By utilizing the difference in boiling points, alcohol can be extracted.
Although they didn't have thermometers at this time, it wasn't a big problem. First, they set up a large pot and poured in wine, boiling it. The wine was now at one hundred degrees. Then, they added a small amount of cold wine, bringing the temperature down to eighty or ninety degrees.
At this temperature, alcohol would boil, but water would not. The vapor released, carrying a large amount of alcohol, rose like a ghostly cloud. The vapor was collected and cooled through metal pipes, and then condensed, resulting in distilled wine. Distilling it a second time would yield alcohol that was over sixty percent proof. When this alcohol was poured and ignited, it could cause serious damage.
Unfortunately, time was of the essence. Even with everyone in the temple working together, relying on the short delay Odysseus provided, they only managed to produce a few barrels of distilled wine, which had all been used up.
If the Roman legion continued their attack, everyone would be left to be slaughtered. Fortunately, the Roman legion recoiled in fear and retreated to a distance, surrounding the temple, and mobilized siege weapons, giving Linley some time.
"Everyone, keep working hard, distill more alcohol!" Linley shouted.
"Long live the God of Wine!" The priests got to work, frantically setting up more distillation pipes and working with enthusiasm.
Linley's spiritual world vibrated. The system's voice sounded: "Congratulations on inventing the technique of distilled wine. You have gained 100 points of Wine God experience."
Linley felt a warmth spread throughout his body, his body grew stronger, and as soon as he had the thought, he entered his spiritual world, where he saw a small house emerge from the dissipating fog.
"This counts as something I invented?" Linley asked.
"It doesn't exist in this world. You created it, so it counts as your invention." The system answered.
"That's pretty good." Linley was happy. There were many things he could invent. "What's this house for?"
"I don't know. This is Dionysus' Divine Realm, and I haven't inspected the things inside. Inspecting it might lead to energy leakage, and your body wouldn't be able to handle it. If you want to know, you can just go in and take a look." The system said.
"Will it be dangerous?" Linley asked.
"I don't know. Be careful. There might be things Dionysus' Divine Realm that are safe for him but could harm you." The system said.
Should he go and take a look? There were numerous enemies outside, and the hundred or so people inside the temple wouldn't stand a chance in a fight. Even with alcohol, they could only cause some trouble in defense. If the enemies charged in recklessly, Linley would be killed immediately.
The key to breaking the deadlock might be in the Divine Realm. Not taking a risk meant certain death, while taking a risk offered a glimmer of hope.
Linley slowly walked towards the little house.