Night time.
They'd left Holy Oberden behind hours ago, trudging farther from the clamor of war-torn roads. Safer here, hidden from prying eyes, and out of reach of Vorhanian footmen or Lemurian scouts prowling for fresh bodies to press into their endless battles.
They are far away, but it is better to be safe than sorry.
The land was dying inch by inch—Sevatar the Unsworn's shadow loomed over Tearh, plunging it deeper into chaos.
The Griffon's Grace huddled by the fire.
Kagezo had left to scout the perimeter an hour ago, leaving the rest content, yet still watchful. The air smelled faintly of herbs and smoke, and Phenix, gazing into the fire, broke the quiet.
"That thing we drank earlier, what is that called again?" said Phenix, eyes lingering in the fire with a warm smile on his face.
Henry Savoy tilted his head towards him, his red-hair seemingly had become black. "Wine, why'd you ask?"
"That stuff you gave us earlier, what was that called?" he asked, eyes catching the flames in a glimmer of mischief.
Henry looked over, half his face cloaked in shadow, the other lit by the fire's warm glow, his silver-flecked hair catching the light and casting dark streaks. "It's wine. Why, planning to take up drinking?"
Phenix laughed. "If it's that kind of drink, yeah! Got more of it?"
Henry scratched his head, already regretting his generosity. "Maybe. But let's not push our luck, alright?"
Fortiana crossed her arms, shooting him a mock glare. "So selfish," she muttered, a smile tugging at her lips.
A smirk crept onto Henry's face as he weighed the options. If they'd been back on Earth, he'd have mixed them a cocktail or two, something to lighten the mood. But he wasn't home, and he knew his stash wouldn't last forever.
Just then, he caught Ammonete watching him, her gaze sharp and curious.
"Ammonete," he said, standing and stretching, "you keep herbs, right?"
It's an old person's routine. He's not an old man, so to speak, but he's nearing thirty. Though, he looks damn old for his age. He's only 28 yet his hair is literally streaks of silvers and whites.
She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I am the healer. Why?"
"What kind do you have?"
She shrugged, her tone bemused. "Lavender , rosemary, a bit of oregano, and other things for potion brewing. Why do you ask?"
Henry grinned. "That'll work. Hand some over?"
Ammonete started to reach into her leather satchel, browsing the many things she kept close to her. "Sure but… I don't know what you'll do with them…" Then she grabbed a handful of the herbs and reached it to Henry Savoy.
Henry took it and smirked. "Thank you kindly. I'll be back in a while."
And so, Henry Savoy walked away from the campsite, taking one bottle of grape wine and a few wooden tankards with him. Though he made sure to know the way back. He settled in a place where the moon beamed down, smiling. Enough light would suffice to make him aware of what he was doing.
He placed the bottle of wine on a wooden block, then imagined it fermenting more and more. Then—
[NOTICE]
Continuous usage of Passive Skill led to the accumulation of extreme amounts of experience.
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[Passive Skill Leveled-Up]
King of Rot (Lvl. 2)
Henry Savoy can ferment juices and turn them into wine. Additionally, he can now activate Corruption and Instant Distill.
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[Active Skills Unlocked]
Corruption (Lvl. 1)
Henry's Corruption taints the environment with a touch. This weakens organic matter, causing accelerated decay in plants, wood, and even flesh if exposed for extended periods. For each second of contact, Corruption drains a small percentage of vitality from organic entities. Non-organic materials become brittle and prone to breaking under minimal stress.
Instant Distill (Lvl. 1)
Henry can now instantly distill raw ingredients to create various types of alcoholic beverages beyond wine, such as whiskey, rum, vodka, or ale. By distilling, Henry can also influence the strength and unique properties of these drinks.
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"Hey… what the fuck?" Henry Savoy spoke, a quiver in his voice. This was an overwhelming turn of events. Thus far, everything had been absurd, but he himself was the point of that. "I get why Instant Distill would be useful for me, but Corruption? Jesus."
He only shook his head and chuckled low. "Alright, fuck it, no time to waste. Let's test Corruption first."
He looked around, thinking where to test his ability. Trees were abundant here, so a tree would suffice. Henry wasn't fond of wasting ingredients, after all.
Deep breaths, in and out. Henry Savoy did not know how this magic worked, but it seemed to him that if he tried to think of the name of the skill, it worked. And slowly, but surely, it did work on the tree.
The leaves started to turn orange, then brown, as the branches limped like they were bearing abundant fruits. Then it stiffened up and crackled, becoming entirely dead in two minutes.
Henry watched, half horrified, half in awe.
In three minutes, the tree had become but a shell of dust. The night wind blew it all away, as if it did not exist at all.
Henry Savoy chuckled at the power he now bore. If this is the first level, he wondered, what is next? He might really have a connection with the Pale God. If so, then the people of Oberden mistook him for someone else.
A Chosen One bearing the power of an evil god?
Ain't that a badly written prophecy.
Next on the block was Instant Distill. What an appropriate time for it to show, he thought. Apricia wine was great and all, but if you eat or drink the same thing again and again, it would become dull.
He wasn't quite ready to do that with the Apricia wine.
That goddamn nectar of the gods.
Now, he aimed his hand at the bottle of wine and thought of the skill. The wine started to distill, then changed color into deep gold instead of burgundy.
Henry Savoy saw the whole bottle afterward and started to pump his hands in the air, punching them as he let out a held-back roar—the kind you do when you're so excited for something but have to bite your teeth together while you shout to hide your ecstasy.
A mixer in a world without alcohol would be excited to see—
Brandy.
This opened so many avenues, but he was curious as to what this would give him. He had the Master of Liquors skill. He won't forget about that. It's a helpful passive.
So, he popped that bottle of brandy and started to take a sip. His senses were heightened more than before, and his blood pumped like he had just injected himself with pure adrenaline.
"FUUUUCK!" he groaned, smacking his lips together as he raised the bottle to face the moon's silver gleam. "That's a dangerous taste."
He wasn't quite focused on the power, but he was deep in the taste of the thing.
Then he started to make drinks with the herbs he had asked for.
The night was young, after all.