Chương 57: Beer and Wine

Early the next morning, after confirming with the Mayor that no residents had gone missing, Lealia and I returned to the Martins' home. This time, it was the wife who came to the door to greet us. It was subtle, but she appeared to be in better spirits than yesterday. Lealia stepped forward to support her.

"Do you feel any better?"

"Yes, I feel a bit more clear-headed this morning. My husband also woke up for a brief moment last night. I managed to get him to eat some porridge and drink plenty of water, just as you instructed." Lealia shot me a joyful look. This meant that either her medicine or the acupuncture was having an effect. It could also be attributed to another of Lealia's abilities - she possesses a skill called Healing Voice. Her voice itself might carry a curative effect, though I suspect she isn't aware of it yet.

Or, perhaps it was my cooking. While there's no concrete proof yet that supplementing mana in ordinary people yields results, the possibility remains. Regardless, this was a positive development. Since we weren't certain which factor was responsible, Lealia and I decided to repeat everything we had done the previous day. I once again asked the Church soldiers to fetch water and tend to the backyard garden, while I headed to the kitchen to prepare a simple dish of sautéed potatoes as Lealia re-examined the couple.

The two children were no longer wary of us. They began scampering around my feet, peppering me with questions.

"Mister, my parents are going to get better, right?"

"Yes."

"How much longer until they're well?"

"Soon."

"Are you going to come here and cook for us every day?"

"... No. Only when I'm free."

"That's a pity. The noodles yesterday were so good. Are you making them again today?"

"..." It seemed my brevity did little to dampen the children's enthusiasm; they continued to chatter incessantly. Listening to them, I suddenly realized that children actually observe far more than adults do. They notice the small things that grownups often overlook. The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. So, I tried a different approach with them:"Before they got sick, what did your mother cook for you?"

The two little ones looked at each other and shook their heads, unable to remember clearly. I refined the question to be more specific:"Was there any dish that only your parents were allowed to eat, but children weren't?" The older brother scratched his head.

"I don't think so. Mama is a bad cook; she only makes two dishes per meal, and everyone eats the same thing." So, the issue didn't lie with their daily meals? Miasma can enter the body through inhalation or ingestion. It was also possible they had accidentally passed through a pocket of concentrated Miasma in some secluded, sparsely traveled area. Once I finished sautéing the potatoes, I entered the bedroom to ask about this possibility. Contrary to my expectations, the wife still shook her head.

"No. We didn't leave the town at all in the two weeks leading up to this. We visited the apple and grape orchards, but those areas are very airy and crowded with people. I don't believe we went anywhere enclosed or dark." Every lead had hit a dead end. At that moment, the little girl suddenly piped up:"I know!" I turned to her and asked, "You know what?"

"A minute ago, you asked if Mama and Papa ate anything that we weren't allowed to. Does eating beer and wine count?" The older brother nudged her, correcting, "You drink beer and wine." Of course. I hadn't given a single thought to the alcohol. I had considered the water source but ruled it out because the entire town shared just two communal wells. If the water were poisoned, the number of patients would be far higher than this. But besides water, people also drink alcohol.

"What ingredients do you use to make your beer and wine?"

"We make ale and fruit wine, mostly grape wine," the wife answered.

"My husband is the one in charge of the brewing; I spend more time tending the orchards, so I only know the basics." The wife explained their family's brewing process. For the grape wine, they wash and crush the grapes, then mix them with sugar. The mixture is left in wooden barrels for several months, followed by multiple rounds of straining to produce the final product. The ale has a shorter turnaround time but a much more complex process.

She mentioned she only helps her husband mix the malt with warm water, after which they separate the liquid to boil, cool, and ferment it in airtight containers. As for the specifics of temperature or how the yeast is cultivated, she wasn't sure. She added, "Many people in this town brew their own beer and wine. It's our primary trade commodity with the outside world. About once a month, we take our beer to exchange for goods in the neighboring city." I tensed up immediately upon hearing that.

"Has there been an exchange recently?"

"... We went once, about two weeks before we fell ill. Since then, I'm not sure. They might know my husband is sick and haven't come to ask again." If the last trade happened nearly a month ago and the neighboring city hasn't reported any cases of poisoning, then that batch was likely safe. But the next batch? There was no guarantee. Lealia asked anxiously, "Do you think the alcohol is the cause? Then everyone in town who is drinking it will also...?"

"I'm not sure what the primary source is; this is just a possibility. We need to visit the other patients and see if they have any connection to alcohol before they fell ill before we can reach a conclusion." I turned to Lealia with a grave expression.

"Regardless, we need to report this to the Mayor and tell him to halt all alcohol trade for the time being."