Alcohol was easy to make, but that was probably because magic was a cheat. Specifically, the Rise spell allowed him to skip the whole yeast and waiting process at the low-low price of about one mana per pint. Of course, that didn’t mean that making alcohol ready for human consumption was easy. Instead, it just revealed an interesting problem of brewing in a forest.
“You cannot be planning to drink that!”
Half a dozen humans looked at him with disgust and concern as he held a mug that was absolutely brimming with flies.
“But I want to taste it! It’s not fair that the flies to get some but I don’t.”
“Mr. Chef, it’s not about fairness. Please, we’ll figure something out for making the mead without flies getting in, just don’t drink a mug of bugs. I beg of you!”
The armored lad pleaded with so much sincerity that even Chef was moved. As he put down the mug, he was met with the roaring approval of the crowd. The shadow guy even ran in, grabbing the mug before Chef could change his mind.
The recipe that Nerick had read out to him was of little to no interest once he’d heard and tasted the ingredients, but everything changed with the last sentence.
“For wine, substitute grapes or honey for the mash.”
That delicious sticky gold had been part of his daily diet for some time now, even going so far as to drink milk and honey throughout the day. If the humans had a recipe for another honey-based drink, then he had to try it.
Sadly, the Rise spell produced a lot of bubbles with something of a smell to them. Said smell was, apparently, the best thing in the world if you were a fly, causing every single one of them in a fifty-mile radius to flock to his creation.
It was disheartening to say the least.
“What if we make a barrel with a hole at the top, right? Bubble out through the hole and then cork it up right after!”
The loudest repeat customer in the crowd threw out a pretty good suggestion, but Chef was already busying himself with a plan of his own. If he was very careful and was sure to close the restaurant ahead of time, it should be fine to—
“Excuse me, are you making poison?”
His companion looked down at him as he watched the particularly sinister looking goop stir itself within the cauldron.
“Nooooo?”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
The awkward man sighed at him before making a totally unreasonable demand.
“You’re not allowed to poison the forest.”
“But why not?!”
It was a perfectly reasonable course of action as far as Chef was concerned. The forest had struck first by getting them so lost, and then it even had the audacity to send hordes of insects after his delicious concoctions. It was about time that Chef showed these trees who they were messing with!
“First of all, it would draw a ton of attention towards us. We’re still on the run, remember? But more critically, you can’t just kill all of your problems away, Chef! If you keep solving everything with poison, then soon enough you’ll be all alone in this cruel world. Is that what you want? Just you, your poison, and a field of corpses?”
Chef kicked a nearby branch, pouted, and picked up his cauldron with a sigh.
“Fiiiine. I’ll go pour this out.”
“No, you’re going to dilute it first. Summon some water and mix it in so you don’t kill everything at your dump site.”
The human was being utterly ridiculous by now. Why should he have to waste his precious mana just to protect some trees and bushes?
“But! But it’s just trees!”
“Goblin Chef! We will not terrorize the woods that have provided us safe harbor! This place is our home, however temporary, and you will not destroy it.”
He grumpily wasted three entire points of mana on diluting and stirring his pesticide, all the while grumbling about how unreasonable humans were. Nerick seemed happy, which only served to worsen his mood further. How dare his companion and self-proclaimed ‘responsible adult’ come in and tell him what he could and couldn’t poison? Chef was beginning to miss the freedom he’d had while the man was gone.
Once the cauldron was empty and the nearby trees were watered, Chef finally decided to give that other idea a try. Making a barrel turned out to be fairly simple with his magic and skills, allowing him to get it right after only three tries and some advice from his patrons. After that, it was just a matter of making a hole and something to plug it. Without any cork on hand, and with Chef having never seen the substance, they eventually settled for a wooden plug.
Then it was time to stir another batch of premium honey water straight from the magic dimension that produced all of his summoned ingredients. After some thorough stirring and a little barrel shaking, it was time for the moment of truth. The Rise spell worked wonderfully, making smelly bubbles that quickly made their way out of the mostly full barrel. As soon as Chef saw the first of the flies getting in close, he activated his skills to increase his speed, plugging the hole of the barrel faster than anything his clients had ever seen.
In fact, some of them couldn’t even process his movements at all, causing them to simply look around in confusion. The burden fell on Chef to explain things clearly for his clientele.
“I did it.”
A few moments of silence were interrupted by the buzzing of flies landing on top of the barrel but unable to get in. The crowd of adventurers erupted with excitement and joy, talking about how they’d be here all the time now that they can get fresh alcohol, especially if it’s even close to the quality of the food.
“But how do we get the mead out of the barrel?”
Everyone turned to Nerick as he spoke before looking back at the wooden construct in question. At least, there was probably still wood underneath the blanket of vibrating insects.
“Huh.”
The patio went silent as everyone just looked at the horrifying scene. Chef turned slowly towards Nerick, a pleading look in his eyes. After another minute of awkward silence, the man just sighed while scratching the back of his neck.
“Just a little bit.”
Chef excitedly got back to work. Who said poison couldn’t solve everything?