Honey Flavored Wine

By Otis Blake

Boyce settled in a remote mountain village for the seventh year.
He met a silent and clumsy man, and out of kindness, bought the man a glass of homemade cream mead.
After drinking the glass of wine, under the man's heavy, dark cloak, a ferocious tail covered with scales swayed slightly...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Otis Blake
• Release date: May 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224523603

Book preview

Honey Flavored Wine

Chapter 1

So, all I really need is sage, garlic, and potatoes to make those potato pancakes you made earlier?

the summer heat still lingered in Green River Village at dusk .

Gibson, with a ruddy face and a slightly plump figure, stood beside the garden and confirmed to Boyce with some uncertainty.

And butter, Boyce added, squatting in Gibson’s garden. Potatoes, sage, fresh garlic and butter. That’s all. Potato pancakes are never complicated.

As Boyce spoke, he pressed his hand on the loose and fertile soil of the garden.

A thin shimmer of magic rose from his palm and seeped into the land where tomatoes, eggplants, squash and sorrel were planted.

After a moment, the plants that had seemed a little wilted began to stretch out their branches and leaves at a speed visible to the naked eye and regained their vitality.

Not long ago, a group of white-winged goblins moved into Gibson's garden. Gibson discovered and bought runes to drive these annoying little creatures out, but the plants in the garden were still a little bit unspirited. Worried that it would affect the autumn harvest, she panicked and found Boyce for help.

This was undoubtedly the right decision. Compared to those serious magicians, Boyce's magic was so weak that it was not worth mentioning, but this little magic was enough to soothe the frightened plants in the garden.

Let me repeat that in case I'm mistaken, I just need to prepare the potatoes and grate them very finely.

The thinner, the better.

Boyce reminded.

Gibson nodded, and then said: Yes, the thinner the better, then two new garlic, a sprig of sage... put a large piece of butter in the hot pot, then put these things in, press Into a thin pancake...

It’s easier to get a crispy texture if it’s thinner.

Boyce couldn't hold it back and added another sentence.

Oh, of course, no one hates a nice, crispy hash brown base, Gibson laughed, and then we just have to wait until the hash browns get golden and crispy, right?

That's right, sprinkle some salt on it after it's out of the pot.

It's hard to imagine how easy it is to make such delicious potato pancakes. You know, ever since you took in my two little troublemakers for dinner, they have been thinking about your potato pancakes!

Gibson scratched her cheek, her face turned a little red, and she was obviously still not used to discussing recipes with someone like Boyce.

After all, even with his magical status, Boyce is still an out-and-out magician - even if the greatest effect of his magic is to restore life to those docile and harmless plants.

I'm glad they enjoyed my dinner.

Boyce lowered his eyes and avoided Gibson's burning gaze with some confusion.

alien land full of magic, monsters, dragons and wizards , he still couldn't adapt to the scrutiny of the local aborigines.

Of course, compared to many people in the Central Continent, the villagers of Green River Village on the edge of the empire are already very good.

This place is located in a remote place, surrounded by dense forests and river valleys without any fluctuations in magical elements. The biggest trouble for the residents is little monsters like goblins and swamp people . Most of the local people make a living by farming. The good climate makes the products here rich (even though the products are ordinary food without any magical amplification benefits), the small village has only one street and one extremely small bar. There is a grocery store, but the grocer will come here every half month to bring the residents what they need.

It is precisely because of the isolation and remoteness here, as well as the sufficient degree of wealth, that most of the residents of Green River Village are gentle and cheerful, almost innocent.

It is rare for outsiders to come to Green River Village , but the villagers still accepted Boyce's arrival, and after a few months, they slowly adapted to Boyce's unusual strange appearance - a thin figure, black hair and pupils. Color, facial features that are much softer than ordinary people, and pale ivory skin.

As a time-traveler, Beuys does not have the halo or golden finger of a protagonist. Of course, when he first crossed over, he had the illusion that he would shine in this alien land filled with dragons, magic, orcs, dragons, and wizards, and repel the demon world with one enemy against ten thousand. Attack and become the Sorcerer Supreme or something.

...After accidentally joining a team of seventh-rate explorers and barely surviving, Boyce's illusions quickly disappeared.

Boyce is lucky to be alive.

After realizing this, Boyce spent some time to settle down, and for now, everything in Green River Village made him feel comfortable and at ease. Certain effects of the time he traveled through time gave his ordinary human body some weak magical induction. In the outside world, this level of magic was not worth mentioning, but in Green River Village , a simple job earned him enough compensation.

Two large pats of home-grown butter.

A whole loaf of toasted bread filled with honey and chopped almonds.

A bag of small apples. (Although they are small, believe me, these apples are sweeter than girls’ kisses! Gibson said earnestly.)

A small sack of potatoes with a few beets mixed in.

A large honeycomb with honey sizzling inside.

...

If it weren't for Boyce's visibly thin body that seemed unable to carry too much weight, Gibson even wanted Boyce to carry back a whole leg of pork marinated with black pepper and sea salt.

Well, in fact, even these work rewards have already overwhelmed Boyce.

You're too skinny. You should eat more pork legs!

Gibson tied up Boyce's sling and looked at the shaky Boyce and said worriedly. Boyce could only smile bitterly. If he had not been able to travel through time, he would have been just an ordinary young man in the normal world. He could not be said to be strong, nor could he be said to be thin. But compared to the two-meter tall man in this magical continent, As a tall aborigine, he does appear to be extraordinarily... delicate.

And this physical difference cannot be made up by eating pork legs.

Gibson suggested that Boyce stay in the village for one night, and then carry Boyce's things back the next day when her two children, Chris and John, came back.

In this way, Boyce could also take the pork leg away. Gibson was very proud of his skill in pickling pork legs.

But Boyce politely declined Gibson's kindness. As an outsider, he did not live in Green River Village. Instead, he built a small wooden house in a small piece of wasteland near Green River Village and lived there.

It was originally a field where villagers grew herbs. It was not far from the village but a little far away, which just met Beuys's living needs as he could not adapt to the crowd.

It's just a short journey. Boyce looked at the sky and said goodbye to Gibson. I will be home before the sun sets. Thank you for your concern.

All right.

Gibson sighed and bid Boyce farewell with some disappointment.

However, when she got home at night, John and Chris, who were supposed to come back the next day, were already sitting at the dining table at home. They were empty-handed and a little embarrassed.

Gibson was greatly surprised by this. Although John and Chris were both young, they were already the best hunters in Green River Village . They had never returned without success before.

Faced with their mother's questions, John and Chris frowned: ...No, we don't know what happened. All the animals in the jungle are gone.

Gone? What does that mean? Gibson asked.

They just disappeared - they ran away - even the most ferocious snakes, wolves and scaly deer ran away. Their nests are still warm. God knows what came in the jungle, and they all evacuated the jungle.

John rubbed his brow and said with a headache.

It's terrible. May the goddess of nature expel those creatures that destroy the balance as soon as possible.

Gibson put his hands on his chest and prayed. But overall, neither Gibson nor her children showed much worry. After all, as mentioned before , the valley where the green river flows lacks magical elements, and no matter what it is, it is impossible for it to stay in this magical desert for too long.

When Gibson was cooking the potato pancakes he had just learned today for his children, a faint worry flashed through his mind.

The road that Boyce took home seemed to run for a short distance close to the Green River, and across the Green River was a dense forest.

If there really is something in the jungle, maybe...

However, this possibility was too small. Gibson, who had never encountered more trouble than the white-winged goblins in his life , quickly put his worries aside and indulged in the delicious potato pancakes with a crispy aroma.

As for Boyce.

Boyce did not return to his cozy little house before sunset as he had said he would.

Firstly, the things Gibson gave him were so heavy that he had to rest after walking a short distance.

Secondly, he was tripped heavily by something while passing the path along the river.

...

Boyce was dizzy from the fall.

It took him a while to realize that the thing that tripped him seemed to be... a person.

Boyce stood not far away in a panic, enduring the dizziness and pain in his body, looking at the man on the ground in panic.

The man lay motionless on the ground, apparently dead.

Half of his face was soaked in the wet river mud, and the blood oozing from his body dyed the entire ground below his body black.

Judging from his clothes, he might be a ranger? No, judging from the tattered armor on his body, he might be a warrior, but Boyce did not recognize which clan the strange emblem on the man's armor came from.

Not long after leaving the adventurer team, Boyce almost forgot the adventure knowledge he had learned before.

The only thing he was sure of was that the man had suffered a very terrible attack before his death - Boyce could even peek into the man's body through the tattered armor, and there seemed to be white bones protruding from under the charred flesh.

things flowing out of the wound can’t be the man’s internal organs, right?

Boyce thought tremblingly.

in the peaceful Green River Village for so long, Boyce found that he was completely unable to adapt to such a horrific scene. According to the training in the adventurer team, he had two appropriate reactions when facing such a dead person: First, he should immediately move forward and cut off the man's neck to prevent him from having a chance of survival, then quickly plunder the man 's useful financial resources, and finally push the body into the river to destroy it.

The second option is that he can cover up his tracks as if nothing happened, avoid the man, and leave the place as if he didn't notice anything, trying to avoid possible trouble.

It’s a pity that Boyce has never been a qualified adventurer, not before and even less so now.

With a pale face, he approached the man and put his hand on the man's neck.

After finding out that the man was still very much alive, Boyce reflexively cast a healing spell on him, the same kind of magic he had cast on tomatoes, eggplants, and pumpkins in Gibson's garden.

At this distance, Boyce could finally see the man's face hidden under the mud with the faint moonlight.

The man was handsome, but not the kind of handsome that made people feel happy. His skin, which had not been stained by mud, was as white as mist, and his tightly closed eyelashes were like ferocious ice spikes shooting out from an extremely cold land.

There was a thick chill about him, a deadly silence.

He is definitely not an ordinary soldier, you can tell that just by looking at his face.

Then Boyce realizes what a stupid thing he has done. He encounters a strange dead man and casts a weak garden magic in an attempt to save him - it is almost maddeningly stupid.

Fortunately, there were only him and the dead man beside him, so no one would notice his idiotic behavior.

Boyce shuddered and withdrew his hand from the side of the man's neck .

But at this moment, his wrist was stuck in place by a cold iron hoop. The man who was supposed to be dead had actually opened his eyes, and his silver eyes stared coldly in the night. Boyce.

Boyce noticed that his eyes were not in human form, but had slender, reptilian-like pupils.

The unfortunate country magician uttered a cry of surprise and instinctively tried to jump up to avoid the other party, but even compared with this man who looked half dead, his strength was still so weak.

He did not escape the shackles of the silver -eyed man, and something suddenly wrapped around his waist, forcing him to fall on the latter for the second time.

The man's body was so hard that he didn't look like a human. He looked more like an ice puppet made of silver and ice.

Crack—

Boyce heard a crisp sound, and then he felt a wetness on his chest. The wine bottle he placed on his chest broke, and the mead soaked his clothes.

let me go!

Boyce screamed in fear.

He barely managed to condense a wind blade , and barely managed to throw it at the man. A small scratch appeared on the man's body, and blood gushed out, but that was all.

The reptilian eyes suddenly narrowed and stared straight at Boyce.

Boyce stiffened.

He felt that he would be killed by this weird man in the next second.

Go away - or I will kill you -

Then he heard a hoarse whisper, oozing from the man's bleeding mouth.

silver eyes seemed to have finally realized the current situation. Instead of killing Boyce, he let go of the weak and pitiful black-haired young man in his hands, and then he fell back into the mud with a bang.

The man's breath was weaker than before. Maybe he would really die in the next second.

Boyce stood up in shock and moved away from the man. He should have just left quickly.

Boyce thought.

In fact, he did so.

After walking a short distance, Boyce touched the damp fabric on his chest.

He took out the broken wine bottle, feeling angry and shocked.

As a wizard with weak magical powers, Boyce always kept a bottle of mead on him.

These thick, golden liqueurs have been blessed by nature and have restorative and subtle healing properties.

There is still a bottle of mead in the bottle, exuding an alluring sweetness.

I must be an idiot.

Boyce muttered to himself.

He repeated the man's actions in his mind. The initial attack was unintentionally a subconscious defense, but after recognizing that the person next to him was innocent, the other party let him go.

According to the rules of the adventurer team, the reaction of the man with silver eyes was undoubtedly completely unqualified. After all, in this damn continent, even ordinary people without weapons can turn into greedy vultures when they find a dead adventurer . But the other party let Boyce go, which may mean that he is not a bad person.

Boyce knew very well that he was just looking for an excuse for his next move. After all, he completely ignored the man's beast-like silver eyes and some parts that shouldn't exist (such as the bone tail that suddenly appeared and wrapped around his body).

But no matter what, in the end, Boyce slowly returned to the place where the man fell.

He took a deep breath, trembling, and helped the man up.

This time, the man was no longer able to launch a subconscious attack on him.

His head hung lifelessly in Boyce's arms, and he looked particularly fragile.

You, don't bite me.

Boyce prayed hard and pried open the man's thin lips. Unsurprisingly, he saw in the man's mouth fine triangular sharp teeth that were completely incompatible with human appearance and a small forked, scarlet tongue.

He shook even harder.

Boyce poured what little mead was left in the broken bottle into the man's mouth.

Thank God the man didn't bite Boyce's finger off.

Of course, it was not without accidents. When he came into contact with the first drop of sweet wine, the lifeless man's throat moved, and then he greedily sucked the remaining mead.

Even after Boyce tried to withdraw his hand, he suddenly stuck out his tongue and wrapped it tightly around Boyce's finger. Boyce's fingers were inevitably stained with mead when he took the broken bottle. of sweetness.

oops—

Boyce was so frightened that his mind went blank. It took him a while to react and he pulled his fingers out of the man's mouth with difficulty.

Then he threw the man back to the ground somewhat roughly and staggered away from the riverside quickly.

He had already given the man a glass of mead, and everything that followed would depend on the favor of the goddess of life.

Whether that man was alive or dead, it had nothing to do with him anymore.

chapter 2

Boyce returned home in an extremely uneasy mood. He thought he would suffer from insomnia, but perhaps because of the mental exhaustion caused by excessive shock, he fell asleep.

However, the cold, beast-like silver eyes of the man he met by the river continued to scare him in his dreams throughout the night.

The next day, Boyce walked around his cabin, doing a lot of housework. He scrubbed the cypress floors in his cabin with water until they gleamed, and re-blessed the herbs in his back garden, even though those herbs needed no additional magical blessing at all (for some reason Boyce could not explain, they were as strong as weeds without any care).

The small apples that Gibson strongly recommended were carefully sliced into thin slices, brushed with a thin layer of butter and sprinkled with glittering sugar. He baked a large plate of apple slices, and then another plate. The whole room was filled with sticky sweet fragrance, which inevitably reminded Boyce of the bottle of mead that was broken last night.

He suddenly stopped everything he was doing and let out a long sigh.

The sun had climbed to the center of the sky, and Boyce knew that his busy work all morning was just an escape from something.

——The terrible man he left by the river.

Is that man dead?

Or are you still lying there waiting to die?

Of course, he could have left. Boyce hoped that the man would recover and leave the riverside, but considering the serious wounds he had seen on the man last night, the possibility of this hope was too low.

If it was that kind of injury, it would be difficult for even Chimera, who is known for its tenacious vitality, to recover...

Boyce muttered , with a hint of self-loathing, and walked out the door, carrying the herbs he had inadvertently picked when blessing in the morning.

Before leaving, Boyce accidentally brought a small bag of baked apple slices. Those apple slices are a beautiful tawny color, with fructose and melted sprinkles shining beautifully on the surface of the soft flesh. There's no magic in these apple slices, but they sure are sweet... perfect for reviving a tired person.

When I was still struggling in the adventurer team, everyone in the team once praised Boyce's baked apple slices.

[...Hey, you know, I was about to die at that time. I felt that the messenger of death had touched my thigh. I closed my eyes and thought, Oh God, this is it, it will end here. But right now At this time, I suddenly remembered that there was still half a bag of baked apple slices in my backpack that I had saved carefully! So I said to the messenger of death at my feet, 'Dude, I'm sorry. I can't die now, and I tried my best to survive.

Someone in the adventurer team once said this to Boyce. Of course, considering that guy's usual smooth talk, the credibility of this statement is very questionable.

But as he walked towards the river step by step with the sweet-smelling apple slices, he couldn't help but think of these words.

...

However, the riverside where the frightened scene took place last night is now deserted.

The green river gurgles, the gentle current mixing with the rustling sound of the wind blowing through the dense forest.

Boyce stood by the river a little dazed, looking at his feet.

He could even see traces of the man's blood on the muddy ground by the river, but the man had disappeared long ago. Even the footprints when he left had been deliberately erased, as if he had never appeared.

From this point of view, that man should really have... left on his own.

He shouldn't be as weak as he thought?

Boyce stood by the river for a short while, then he took a long breath and his chest suddenly relaxed .

That's great.

he thinks.

...

Having successfully escaped the possibility of trouble, Boyce felt happier than ever.

But there are still some small problems that need to be dealt with, such as replenishing mead - the bottle that was broken last night contained Boyce's last mead stock.

Among the raw materials used to brew mead, honey is easy to solve. Gibson just gave him some honeycombs yesterday.

You can also order cardamom from Mr. Grocer first...

Boyce said to himself.

The only thing that made him feel a little embarrassed now was the green lemon leaves. Boyce frowned slightly and looked at the dense forest on the other side of the Green River .

Green lemon leaves are not easy to find in this forest with few magical elements.

Boyce thought helplessly.

but......

He had finished all the housework this morning, and he happened to have some dried apples on hand that could be used to satisfy his hunger. It didn't matter even if he spent the afternoon in the dense forest.

With this thought in mind, Boyce happily crossed the Green River and walked into the dense forest without any precautions.

The former seventh-rate adventurer , garden magic enthusiast, wizard Boyce, who had low magic power, did not notice at all that when he was standing by the river in a daze, a pair of silver eyes were staring at him closely in the bushes nearby.

The vertical olive-shaped pupil shrank into a thin straight line.

And when he saw Boyce wading across the Green River with his trouser legs rolled up in such a foolish manner , the man couldn't help but shake the tip of his tail.

A faint scent of dried apples lingered in the air.

Chapter 3

At first, Boyce did not notice that there was something wrong with the atmosphere in the forest.

Forgive him, after all, he is just a country wizard with low magic power, and the forest has been so silent, peaceful and safe in the past few hundred years.

Like a generous mother, it provides wild animals, berries, firewood and herbs to the villagers of Green River Village and nearby villages. Even though these things cannot be sold at a good price because they cannot be attached with magic, they are enough for the residents here to live a life without worries about food and clothing.

The dense forest is like the back garden of the villagers of Green River Village, and Boyce can now be considered half a Green River Villager.

He tread carefully through the tall grass and made his way along the riverbank, between the bushes and low trees.

compared to the natives showed great advantage at this time. He moved swiftly and agilely, like a deer in the forest.

But before long, Boyce's pace slowed down.

He found a large field of ripe wild berries . Every bunch of wild berries was ripe, and each one was heavy and hidden under the dark green leaves. When picking them, he only needed to apply a little force and the purple-red juice would stain Boyce's fingertips red.

Boyce filled his basket to the brim. He should have been delighted to have such a large patch of wild berries , but the more he picked, the more uneasy he felt.

Boyce stood up from the wild berry bush, frowning and thinking carefully about where his uneasiness came from. He put his hand on his chest, and the amulet he brought back from the adventurer team hung there quietly, without any warning reaction. The air in the dense forest wrapped in vegetation was humid, the light was dim, and there was silence all around.

Wait, silence...

Boyce's expression froze.

He finally realized that he hadn't heard a single bird call since he entered the jungle. Thinking about it this way, even the wild berry field at his hand was a bit strange. After all, the small animals in the forest are always the smartest eaters. They seem to be born with an innate knowledge of when the wild berries are ripe, and before humans have time to find this place. They have devoured the most delicious, juicy and ripe wild berries in the jungle .

berry field in his sight showed no sign of any