In the blink of an eye, it was September 22nd—eight days since Rusn had buried himself in the workshop.
During this time, he hadn't returned to Eagle Castle even once. His rare moments of rest were spent dozing off in the workshop's office.
It wasn't that he didn't want to go back, nor that he had developed a passion for craftsmanship—it was simply because he'd hit a snag: alcohol.
To produce alcohol, one had to distill wine.
The trick was to control the heat precisely between 80 to 100 degrees Celsius. Any higher, and all he'd be doing was separating out impurities without actually increasing the alcohol content.
That's where the trouble began.
The alchemy equipment Rusn had purchased couldn't regulate heat—after all, gas stoves didn't exist in this era.
