Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 75
When Hasting left the room, it was already past two in the morning.
Dwight, still at an age where his bones were growing, theoretically needed plenty of sleep, but the reports from Shivers and Erica had left his thoughts in disarray. The only one who dared to strongly advise him to rest, the old steward, was far away in Pennigra, so the troubled Duke capriciously chose not to go to bed.
The old steward had taken great care in educating Erica. In this unfamiliar land, the girl had arranged the best possible environment for the Duke within her abilities—the wooden carved desk in his room was very similar to the one he used at Brandenburg, and the setup included paper, pens, and a crystal-decorated lamp according to his habits. However, there were also a few additional items he had placed at hand: a tray with mint hard candies next to a palm-sized glass bottle, inside which a tiny, dried bat was soaked in clear water, looking like a strange specimen.
The bottle was procured by Hasting, and the soaking was Charlie’s idea. Whether for cooking or medicine making, soaking was the first step in processing dried goods.
Dwight was ambivalent about it, but the clear water at least served to dust it off, making it look less filthy.
The water in the bottle was changed daily, yet to no effect. The little bat still remained dry and shriveled in the clear liquid, showing no signs of swelling.
Dwight himself couldn’t even explain the peculiar feeling he had when he first saw the dried bat. Sitting on the sofa and staring at the bottle for a while, he suddenly wondered: Could this thing just rot from being soaked?
Thinking this way only made it harder to stop—the thought of a creature rotting in water, the ensuing stench and gathering of microbes was enough to make the Duke’s skin crawl.
He jumped up, instinctively wanting to call Hasting, but stopped himself, glancing at the large grandfather clock in the corner.
“Being your knight must be quite tiring. I’ve never seen Shivers rest,” the rabbit-headed shopkeeper once said to him.
At the time, Dwight had scoffed at the idea.
The Dwight family didn’t find pleasure or satisfaction in mistreating those of lower status. Brandenburg was famous for its generosity toward its servants.
Shivers naturally rested when he rested. What was there to question?
Unless there was an emergency…
At this thought, Dwight suddenly grasped the real meaning behind the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s words.
Shivers was always there when needed, and he believed Hasting and the other Brandenburg Knights could do the same.
But how could they manage that if not by being ever vigilant and always on call?
Dwight glared at the grandfather clock for a moment, then picked up the glass bottle with two fingers and quickly went to the small ensuite to pour out the water.
But that alone wasn’t enough.
Seeing that the dried bat wasn’t going to rehydrate, but trusting his intuition, he wasn’t yet ready to throw it away as useless. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on the low table in front of the sofa.
It was where the rabbit-headed shopkeeper had sat, leaving in a hurry, forgetting the items he had brought in—several bottles of various types of alcohol and some jerky.
In terms of alcoholic beverages, the customs on the Doran continent were similar to those in Pennigra. The middle and upper classes favored various wines, while ale and other fruit wines were more popular among the lower classes. Charlie had brought both types, and Dwight, after a brief search, also found a small bottle of distilled liquor.
Among several ceramic jars, the glass bottle of distilled liquor was particularly conspicuous; its contents were remarkably clear, indicating its high value.
This was originally a technique for refining floral waters by elves, later expanded into the fields of pharmacology and brewing by spice traders.
Due to the technological threshold, it was expensive and usually sold in small units. Even near the capital, it would be hard to find such fine goods in a place like Ropappas.
That guy took advantage of him whenever he could, so he was generous with his own drinking, but it looked like he hadn’t had enough in the city and had brought some back to mix his own drinks.
Dwight studied it for a moment, popped the cap with one hand, and unhesitatingly poured the entire small bottle of high-proof liquor into the glass bottle.
At least it wouldn’t rot now.
Having dealt with the dried bat, Dwight thought for a moment, then turned his attention back to the bottles of liquor quietly sitting on the low table.
“I apologize. I’ll reimburse you for those bottles of liquor,” Hasting said sternly to Charlie.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper waved it off, a pained look on his face. “It’s alright. It’s just a few bottles of liquor. They’re not worth much.”
Most of what he had brought back were just some bottles of ale he picked up casually, but one of the bottles was a high-concentration Akavitae liquor he had won playing cards at a tavern before sunset—a truly high-end item he hadn’t even had a chance to taste. Who would have thought the young Duke with an elf-like face would drink it all so swiftly!
Speaking of which, that guy really could drink.
He glanced at the Duke, who seemed untroubled by last night’s binge, showing no signs of exhaustion other than a slight lack of sleep—it was completely unnoticeable that he had downed a week’s worth of liquor in one go the night before.
Especially that bottle of Akavitae liquor, which under normal circumstances no one would drink in one sitting, usually mixed with lighter drinks for this purpose, he had even specially bought some mild-tasting fig wine and matching farmhouse cheese.
Now it was all gone.
Hasting didn’t understand his fuss. “It’s not about the value. You’ve compensated for our oversight, and you can take this as our thanks.”
Not noticing that the Duke was too distressed to sleep and needed liquor in the middle of the night to aid his rest was indeed their negligence, and Hasting was already considering preparing some easy-to-drink white wine in the room in addition to the mint candies—of course, not too much. He couldn’t let the Duke develop a dependency on alcohol.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper blinked, finding it a bit funny—this sentence surely came from Hall’s mouth, and hearing it so rigidly recited by Hasting almost made him laugh.
But he held back. A moment’s carelessness the previous night had already made the knight wary of him. It was best not to cause further trouble.
However, at breakfast, he still found an excuse to remind the Duke. “There was one bottle of Akavitae with a very high proof. Should I ask the kitchen to bring some raw tomatoes?”
Although Dwight seemed alright, Charlie was well aware of the strong willpower nobles maintained to uphold appearances. Akavitae was a strong liquor. If consumed too much at once, it could cause a burning sensation in the throat and stomach, and raw tomatoes and milk could alleviate these symptoms.
The Duke looked up at him. The rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s concerned expression was impeccable.
He lazily said, “I didn’t drink that bottle.”
Besides that bottle of distilled liquor, he had opened and tasted the others, but indulging wasn’t his style.
Charlie was relieved at this response, quickly masking his gaze.
It seemed that the liquor was indeed expensive.
The Duke put down his fork and turned to Hasting. “Bring that bottle of Akavitae here.”
Hasting complied.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper didn’t expect he would regain his card game prize (though he didn’t show it). He happily pulled over a plate of sliced ham.
Halfway through eating, Hasting returned with a strange look on his face.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper eagerly looked up, but the young knight didn’t come to him. Instead, he leaned in to whisper a few words to the Duke.
Dwight paused, side-glancing at the object in Hasting’s hand, his eyes narrowing.
Charlie stopped pretending, putting down his fork. “What’s wrong?”
Dwight glanced at him, signaling for Hasting to place the item on the table.
The modestly shaped glass bottle had no decorative carvings and was half-filled with a clear liquid. Sunlight streaming in from the large window illuminated the object soaked inside for all to see.
Charlie was startled. “Isn’t that the dried bat you bought at the March Rabbit Market?”
Upon hearing the term “March Rabbit”, Hasting, stirred by unpleasant memories, quietly stepped back.
“Using liquor for soaking… It’s not a bad idea,” Charlie said, taking the glass bottle and examining it closely in the light. “The purity of Akavitae isn’t low. It has some antibacterial properties, but it’s best if the alcohol completely covers it.”
Dwight said, “I did indeed fill the bottle with liquor last night.”
Charlie immediately looked up at him.
The Duke, expressionless, affirmed, “I wasn’t drunk. I remember correctly. It’s definitely true.”
“What’s going on here then?” Shiloh almost leaned half his body over the table to look. “Before, when it was soaked in water, there was no reaction at all, right? Does it absorb when switched to liquor?”
“It does look a bit swollen.” The Duke observed the bottle closely.
The dried bat inside had visibly plumped up a bit, lacking the previously dry and brittle touch.
Following that, Hasting topped off the bottle with the rest of the liquor, and they decided to place the bottle in a large drawer by the wall to observe it for a few more hours.
To ensure there was enough liquor, Dwight had Eugene go and buy all the Akavitae he could find in the market.
It was broad daylight, and no tavern would be open at this hour, and such high-end liquor wouldn’t be widely available on the common market. This sort of task was indeed something only Eugene could handle.
It turned out that alcohol did have an effect on the strange, dried bat, and the higher the purity, the more effective it was (Eugene managed to buy the liquor the same day, and smartly purchased a few different types as well).
After soaking for a day and a night, the dried bat—or rather, it could no longer be called that—had absorbed the liquor and gradually swelled and plumped up. The parts that could be recognized were noticeably different from a bat: it had a much longer neck, two hind limbs, and a hooked tail, all previously curled up and wrapped by bat-like membranous wings.
Its absorption of the liquor was almost desperate. A full bottle of Akavitae could be completely absorbed within five to six hours, so Shiloh had to transfer it from the bottle to a large cast iron basin.
“What… is this thing?” Eugene muttered.
Now that it had fully stretched out, even he could tell this wasn’t a normal bat—ordinary bats couldn’t be rehydrated with liquor.
Dwight studied the basin intently, ignoring him.
It was now late, but nearly everyone was still gathered in the living room.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper said in a low voice, “We can’t be sure yet, but it might be a very, very rare creature.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Shiloh commented, nudging Hasting, who shook his head, indicating he hadn’t either.
“This is a type of draconic creature called a Pluto Owl, commonly known as a “wyvern”, Charlie explained. “These creatures are incredibly fast flyers, difficult to catch, and difficult to reproduce. There have been no updates in human records about them for at least fifty years.”
Hasting asked, “Is it the kind of thing that would be carved on a carriage?”
Charlie nodded. “Because the Pluto Owl is so fast, humans like to use its image on transportation decorations as a blessing, but because they are so hard to capture and due to artistic rendition, the popular images differ somewhat from its true appearance.”
Hearing this, Shiloh raised a key question. “So, can it live like this if we keep it soaked?”
Such a rare creature, of course, would be more valuable alive than as a specimen.
Dwight’s gaze finally shifted from the basin to those gathered around.
“There are no records of Pluto Owls being tamed by humans. No one knows what they eat or even their lifespan,” he said. “Recorded adult specimens include a wingspan of 5-8 meters. This one must still be in its juvenile phase. Its limbs are already beginning to regain elasticity.”
Since leaving Ropappas, Charlie hadn’t seen Dwight this invigorated, prompting him to smile as well. “Indeed, that’s possible. You’re quite lucky.”
<<< || Table of Contents || >>>
Kinky Translations 