The sky was growing late.

Kestia sat on the sofa, arms crossed and frowning, glancing out the window again and again.

“Where’s that guy? Hasn’t he come back yet? Did he die out there?” Liya voiced what the princess was thinking.

“Lekui, go look for him. His life or death doesn’t concern us, but it’s troublesome,” Kestia said flatly.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Lekui replied, heading out.

Her face stayed cold, annoyance toward Lanche deepening.

Outside the manor, she spotted him staggering back.

In a flash, she stood before him, stony-faced. “Where were you? Coming back this late.”

“Got held up,” Lanche grinned sheepishly.

Lekui ignored his excuse. “Let’s go back,” she said coldly.

“Okay,” Lanche nodded obediently, following her home.

He felt it again—home was truly comfortable.

Inside, Kestia stared at him silently. “Father-in-law” Sileus smiled warmly. Lanche felt awkward and confused.

What’s with today? Did they really care this much about him coming home?

Still, it was his first time returning late.

“Don’t come back this late next time,” Kestia said coolly.

“Got it,” Lanche nodded earnestly.

“Let’s eat first. Have you eaten?” he grinned sheepishly, changing the subject. He feared new rules might follow.

“Wait,” Kestia called out indifferently.

Lanche froze, standing dejectedly.

“Know what this is?” Kestia held up a wine bottle.

Today, the four of them had ransacked the manor, leaving no corner unchecked. They’d failed to find the “spirit of wine,” pinning hopes on Lanche’s glass bottles.

Relief washed over him—it wasn’t about catching his mistakes.

“This? Wine I made. Wanted you to try it. Didn’t Lekui tell you?” he asked, puzzled.

Kestia, Liya, and Sileus all turned to Lekui.

Lekui froze. Seeing Lanche’s barely suppressed grin, her face flushed red. “He didn’t tell me either!”

She wanted to beat him senseless!

This man had made her look unreliable before the princess all day.

Kestia said nothing, her gaze shifting back to Lanche. He cleared his throat, smile fading. “My wine. Don’t like it? Pour it out. Taste is average anyway.”

Kestia’s words died on her lips.

Average? Sileus gaped, speechless.

They’d dug through the earth like clowns for this bottle.

“I can make better ones,” Lanche added quickly.

“You can make it anytime?” Sileus grabbed his hand, eyes blazing.

Lanche shrank back. Father-in-law, please—your daughter might misunderstand…

“How? You have no magic,” Kestia said, arms crossed, a hint of doubt in her voice.

“Who says I don’t?” Lanche pushed Sileus away, flashing a mysterious smile.

Everyone stared, stunned.

“Can’t make it anymore,” Lanche added, still grinning like he’d gasped for air.

Kestia rolled her eyes.

“Lekui, fetch my gear,” Lanche ordered.

Lekui ignored him, cold-faced. Only after Kestia’s nod did she leave.

The distillation setup sat on the table. Lanche prepared to explain.

“Heat wine here—it turns to vapor. Condense it, and liquid flows here. That’s distilled wine.” He gestured briefly. Done.

The four Dragonfolk exchanged confused glances.

“Things made by… a useless person are hard to grasp,” Kestia said flatly, making excuses.

Lanche bit his tongue. If you don’t get it, just say so—why insult me?

“No magic needed?” Sileus asked doubtfully.

“None. But you can use magic if you want.”

“Lekui, bring the wine,” Lanche ordered again.

This time, Lekui obeyed calmly, fetching a barrel of “cloudy wine.”

Lanche poured malt wine into the vessel. “One heats, one cools.”

Perfect—sisters Lekui and Liya, ice and fire.

Liya heated the front. Lekui cooled the condenser tube.

Soon, clear wine filled the bottle below.

Sileus took a sip, beaming. “Yes! Exactly this! Even better than before!”

“Good wine distills differently from bad,” Lanche said.

“Barely used any magic,” Liya reported to Kestia.

Kestia nodded, her eyes lighting up slightly as she looked at Lanche.

He smiled back, waiting for praise.

She ignored him, studying the apparatus. “This cuts magic use drastically. Or eliminates it?”

Why it worked didn’t matter—only the result did.

“Can you build a bigger one? For more wine at once?” she asked.

“Sure,” Lanche nodded.

Material was the issue. Ordinary glass would shatter if scaled up.

Easy fix—just spend more on copper.

“Hmm. Handle it,” Kestia said indifferently.

“Yes, my lady,” Lanche smiled.

Kestia paused, snorting lightly through her nose. She said nothing more.

Lanche stayed home, helping build a secret workshop for a larger setup.

It took over a month. The hidden distillery was ready—a small wooden hut beside the main house.

Time and money went into custom gear.

Lanche visited the tavern once, checking on Tahina, Kelly, and Akana.

No good news. Tahina seemed downcast; her smile for him felt forced.

Kelly and Akana would have to support each other through hard times.

“Scaling up the gear got so messy,” Liya remarked, eyeing the workshop.

“Material, structure, craft—avoiding breaks from heat and cold,” Lanche explained casually.

“Stop. Don’t lecture,” Liya cut him off. She hated his jargon.

“It works now, right?”

Lanche nodded.

Next: buy others’ wine, add one step, sell high. Pure profit.

How Kestia ran the business? Lanche didn’t care. He preferred being fed.