SWNOVELXO Chapter 23: Brewing Zone
"What?"
Faced with a whole crowd of dwarves standing still while they did nothing but stare right at me, I couldn't help but feel all kinds of weirded out.
Yet, after my initial surprise passed, I realized that those weren't the kinds of stares I should fear.
No.
While they weren't full of admiration and deference… There was a noticeable hint of respect in those stares of theirs.
A fact all the more noticeable on Greg's face, given how few fucks he appeared to give about me before, only to now look at me as if I suddenly graduated from a piece of trash that somehow found its way into Selia's graces to an actual, legitimate human.
Almost as if he wanted to say, "I knew not of your game, man."
"Again, what?" I asked, not exactly sure if I could proceed with the next step of coffee-making with such a crowd staring me down.
"It's nothing," Greg shook his head before waving his brethren to dismiss them. And when that didn't work…
"What the hell are you all standing around here for? Get your filthy asses back to work!"
If the earlier gesture did absolutely nothing to move his brothers, Greg's raised voice worked like a charm. And with all the dwarves from the crowd now all rushing back to their tasks, I'd gained a precious opportunity to observe how they worked.
This opportunity lasted only for a fleeting moment, cut short when their renewed work-enthusiasm ended up with an explosion of fresh smoke within the smithy that pretty much blocked me from observing any further.
Still, I'd managed to see enough.
'That's… curious,' I thought as I'd noted quite the interesting little detail in the back of my head, something to be studied further and potentially even raised once the three beans I allowed myself to spare for the experiment would turn into three cups of the most precious liquid to grace the filthy cups of this world.
"Satisfied?"
My moment of careful vigilance didn't go unnoticed, as proven by Greg's face suddenly taking on a much darker color than before, almost as if the softening brought by whatever it was that he saw in me working never took place to begin with.
"You have no idea how much," I laughed off in response before grabbing the pestle one of the dwarves left nearby and putting it into the mortar. "But that's something I will be happy to discuss once I'm done with all the prep work," I added.
Throw the bait out and then force the other party to wait.
Now that I found another angle I could potentially use to my own advantage, I had no plans of acting upon it.
Not before I returned to the safety of Selia's side, at the very least. And for that, playing for time was my best and safest bet.
"Tsk…" Greg clicked his tongue before looking away.
Freed from the scrutiny and pressure of his eyes, I took a deep breath to calm down before grabbing the handle of the pestle like a warrior would grab the handle of his sword or a lover would grasp the waist of their partner.
I didn't rush into action, though.
Instead, I made my way back to the counter, confirming that Saintess was still there, before taking Greg's steps for a seat, plopping my ass down on it and then finally starting to work the beans down.
Contrary to what one might think, grinding the beans with such a primitive tool was no easy or straightforward task. And yet, as if the smithy's smoke was filled with some kind of zone-inducing drug, after just a few rounds of driving the pestle around the mortar, I could feel my thoughts calming down and then dispersing on the wind.
It was as if my entire self focused on nothing but the tiniest sensations of the pestle in my hand, the faint sounds made by the beans it crushed and the ways in which the pestle struck the inner walls of the mortar whenever the matter it was crushing would give up and split apart.
Soon, rather than holding the mortar in my hand, I wrapped my arm around it instead, nestling it on my chest like one would their dearest child. Then, with my now freed hand, I covered the open top of the mortar, making sure not even a single drop of the precious powder would get wasted by escaping the mortar's insides.
Press, crush, powderize.
Early on, my movements were all oriented at splitting the roasted beans into smaller parts.
Then, as the beans turned into bigger bits, I changed the way with which I manipulated the pestle, crushing them into finer and finer parts.
Finally, rather than bringing the pestle down at those bits to flatten them against the bottom of the mortar, I started to move the pestle in circles instead, grinding the remaining bits into finer and finer powder by brushing them against the mortar's walls.
Normally, the grinding of the beans would take me a few seconds at most when using an electric grinder. A few-teen seconds if I felt especially fancy and used a handheld one.
But now?
Daring not to waste those precious beans on the lower-quality "cowboy" brew, I made sure to grind them down over and over again, occasionally taking a peek inside the mortar to confirm the current state of the precious powder inside.
Finally, after what felt like an hour of working those beans down and with my arm long since screaming in pain of overuse, I'd allowed myself to put the mortar down on the counter with a slight smile born from a job well done.
With just a glance down the stone bowl I could tell that all the effort I put into crushing the beans wasn't wasted. Then, just to make sure I wouldn't waste even the tiniest bit of the coffee powder, I started to carefully slide my finger down the pestle, pushing whatever coffee powder that was stuck to its sides down into the stone bowl, ensuring not a single iota of the coffee would go to waste.
"Are you ready?"
The very moment I put the pestle away and breathed out a sigh of relief, Greg spoke.
"Huh?"
Torn out of my zone, I looked to the side, only to see him resting his head on his arm with two buckets and a small, golden… No, glass container right next to him.
"Yeah, almost there," I nodded my head as I carefully stepped away from the counter and took a moment to calm myself down.
After all that work, it would be a pity if I screwed the drink up by rushing it, wouldn't it?
"Okay, for the last part, I need three cups and then something to stir the drink inside," I explained… Only for Greg to pull the cups out from behind his back while the Saintess reached into her hair and pulled out a silver, leaf-like hairpin that was supposed to hold her hair up… if not for all of her silvery hair falling freely down her back.
"That will do," I muttered, quickly squeezing the hairpin between my pinched fingers to remove all potential impurities from it before arranging all the materials in a row.
First, I used the hairpin to gently scoop out the coffee from within the mortar and into the three cups.
Initially, I wanted to split the precious powder evenly between the cups, only to change my mind at the last moment and put a bit more of it into the first of the cups at the cost of the last one.
'Who knows how strong they would like their coffee?'
I shook my head before moving over to the next step and, after squeezing out another cup from Greg, using it to gently pour the boiling-hot water into each of the three cups.
Before long, I'd lost all my thoughts again, falling into the zoned-out state of mind again. And what could be either a moment or an eternity later, I woke up from it, with each of the cups now filled almost to the brim with three different brews in it.
One with a strong coffee, free of sweetening honey and with just a single dabble of milk to remove the heaviest edge.
The middle, mild cup, with a standard amount of honey and milk one would expect from a pre-made coffee off a shop's shelf.
Then, when it came to the third cup, I stuffed it with so much milk and honey, it turned from an actual coffee into a coffee-flavored milk drink.
Taking a deep breath, I took a step to the back. And after calming myself down for the third time today, I opened up my arms in an inviting manner before bringing my right arm forward and pointing at the cups.
"Go on, and give each of them a taste. I made sure to bring out three different variations so that you can find the one you like the most. Oh, and before you drink," I then put on a small, devious smile on my mouth, "be advised. Not only is this drink supposed to shake you awake, it is known to bring forth your call of nature."