In just a few short days, the name “Dawn Dew” had already ignited among the social circles of the Upper District.
The first batch of twenty bottles, initially regarded as rare treasures, were displayed on mantels and in wine cabinets as symbols of prestige.
But some simply couldn’t resist the temptation.
At a night banquet, a young wealthy merchant finally gave in, uncorking a bottle before the eyes of all present.
The pale golden liquid was slowly poured into a crystal glass, its fragrance spreading through the hall as if to illuminate the entire room.
… My goodness.
He took just a sip, and his whole body froze on the spot.
After a moment, as if finding the right metaphor, he exclaimed in awe:
“This is sunshine itself! A hundred times purer than Crimson Dream!”
All eyes were instantly drawn to him.
Some tried to beg for a taste, while others hurriedly instructed their attendants to remember the name of the wine.
After that night, “Dawn Dew” became the hottest topic at every gathering.
“Clear and refreshing, just like Dawn Dew.”
“To be honest, it feels more noble than that so-called Crimson Dream.”
“Even a single sip is enough to soothe the soul.”
Praise spread at an astonishing rate, and many began to ask: Who could still get another bottle?
Those who had not tasted it, even if they’d only glimpsed the bottle at a banquet, could not help but brag to others:
“I’ve seen it. I’ve smelled its fragrance.”
The wildfire of reputation was already spreading across the land.
***
Night descended, and the stone gate of the hidden warehouse of the Oss Chamber of Commerce slowly closed with the heavy clatter of iron chains.
Julius leaned against the stone wall, his hand ever resting on his sword hilt.
In the dim passage, his ears caught every slightest sound.
Whenever a patrolling worker passed by, a mere glance from him would make them lower their voices.
No one but he could enter the workshop behind the door.
Helos, cloaked in dark robes, her hood tightly hiding her silver hair and face.
The young woman slowly raised her hand, her fingertips tracing a faint arc of light in the air.
In the next instant, the large pile of raw materials stacked nearby silently floated upward, as if drawn by invisible force.
The raw materials spun, disintegrated, and transformed into sparkling motes of light in the shadowy workshop.
Those motes gathered in the air, circulating and intertwining into new forms.
Before long, one crystal-clear bottle after another condensed mid-air, their glass bodies pure and flawless, as if crafted by nature itself.
Pale golden liquor flowed in, a faint golden glow radiating along the bottle wall, as if sealing in the fragrance.
When the process was complete, the bottles landed gently, lining up on the wooden racks with the softest of clinks.
Helos stood at the worktable, her expression calm, silently watching it all.
No words, no others—only the crisp fragrance of the liquor quietly filling the stone chamber.
Row after row of wine bottles were silently born.
Only when the racks were gradually filled did the workshop return to silence.
Helos lowered her hand, tightened her hood, and blended herself once more into the shadows.
Outside the stone gate, Julius kept silent watch.
Now and then, through the gap in the door, he would catch a faint golden glow and the subtle aroma.
That scent stirred his spirit, yet he never once felt the urge to peek inside.
That was Helos’s secret.
His only duty was to guard the door, to let no one near.
The brilliance inside the workshop gradually faded, the humming sound ebbing away.
On the racks, two hundred bottles of pale golden wine sat quietly in neat rows.
The bottles were pure and clear, yet bore no adornment.
A fresh fragrance filled the air, like dewdrops at dawn turning to mist, lingering in the dim space.
Helos slowly lowered her hand, gazing with satisfaction at this batch of finished products.
Compared to the luxurious display of the first twenty bottles, this batch was a “drinking wine” in the truest sense.
If the conclusions drawn from Julius and the others’ earlier tests were correct, the effects of this batch alone would be enough to destroy most of the Abyss Cultists’ efforts.
Helos let out a quiet, cold laugh in the shadows.
Those people relied only on poisons and dreams to lure people into indulgence, a hollow trick that could not withstand a single blow.
What people truly remember is not dependence, but the clarity and aftertaste that follows a sip.
Yet, beneath her cloak, her fingers tightened slightly.
No matter how robust the fragrance of this wine, it might not completely suppress the shadows of darkness.
She knew well the Abyss Cultists would not give up so easily; they would always seek new chaos, spreading their toxins anew with different faces.
So vigilance was still necessary.
Casting one last glance at the neat rows of bottles, Helos called out softly to the outside:
“Julius.”
The heavy stone gate let out a slight scraping sound.
The young man pushed the door open, his gaze sweeping swiftly through the workshop before approaching her side.
Helos offered no explanation, only nodding her head.
Julius instantly understood her meaning—her task was complete.
A small door on the other side of the stone chamber opened, and under the young man’s escort, the girl slipped away in silence.
Only the fresh, crisp aroma of the liquor lingered in the air.
Not until her figure vanished completely into the depths of the shadow did Julius return.
He pushed open the main warehouse door and gave a quiet order to the workers waiting outside:
“Come in, let’s get to work.”
The workers entered at his command.
Before their eyes, the racks were filled with two hundred bottles of pale golden Dawn Dew.
They said nothing; their division of labor had long been clear.
Some affixed gold foil labels to the bottles, some fitted them with shockproof padding, and finally, each was packed into wooden crates and nailed shut.
Carts on rollers followed iron tracks into the darkness, directly into the disguised warehouse on the other side.
To them, it was as if these wines had simply appeared out of thin air.
As for the brewing process itself, they had never seen it, nor would they ever ask.
***
In Eisend’s study, his personal guard knelt on one knee, presenting a stack of confidential reports:
“Milord, the evidence of Baron Black’s secret collusion with the Abyss Cultists is conclusive. Please give the order—we can take them all down at once.”
The Duke looked at the reports and was silent for a long time:
“Not yet.”
The guard was taken aback, subconsciously looking up to meet the Duke’s cold gaze.
In those chilly eyes, something seemed to flicker—then disappeared in an instant.
“First, tell your men to monitor them at all times. Do not let a single move escape you.”
“Yes, Milord.”
Under the lamplight, a subtle ripple of emotion passed deep in Eisend’s eyes.
He glanced at the portrait of a woman hanging not far off on the wall, his expression unconsciously softening a little.
As if a name surfaced from the depths of his memory, only for him to suppress it by force.
He knew very well—Helos and Eleanor were both his children with her.
And precisely because of this, he had to maintain the coldest distance from her.
Even a hint of care would push her into the sights of those who coveted her.
In the eyes of others, she was but a forgotten shadow, a symbol of misfortune and loathing.
But only he knew—the curse that child bore was enough to shake the whole Empire.
She could only survive in the shadows, to be despised and overlooked—at least until she possessed the strength to protect herself.
From the moment she was born, the unyielding look in those tender eyes had made Eisend resolve himself.
Even if she came to hate him, to misunderstand him, he had to use this method to force her growth.
Because she was no ordinary person.
“Since the children are showing such rare enthusiasm, let them try.”
Eisend’s voice resumed its icy tone, “If they fail, we can always intervene. If they succeed—then that is the gravest blow we can deal our enemies.”
As the guard was about to withdraw, the Duke suddenly added:
“As for what comes after, leave it to Eleanor. I trust she will not bring shame to the family.”
His voice was a shade gentler than before, as if a ripple of water moved beneath an icy surface.
The guard accepted the order and withdrew.
The study was left with only the Duke, who slowly closed his eyes.
After a long time, a sigh drifted through the empty room:
“Illyana, if you could see that child’s growth, would you feel comforted?”
“Or would you… resent my attitude toward her?”