"So, from our agreements all those years ago. You must tell me if you have more than three pairs of wings." Dulir asked remembering their timely promise that's only fulfilled every nine years.
"I do indeed have more than three pairs of wings." Roan obliged to their promise.
They reached the basement. A place several hundreds of meters large. It was a wine cellar left by Dulic's wife to him a long time ago.
When the both of them reached the basement, Roan's eyes glimmered with joy as hundreds of barrels of wines were laid out before him and in one corner, there was a separated one hundred black barrels.
Roan approached these hundred black barrels and opened them without hesitation. The aroma wafted over to him gently.
"Hooah, these batches have a much sweeter scent than before." Roan leaned in closer to the opened cask of alcohol to take a deeper sniff of the product, "Hmmm, oh yeah, it's even stronger than before. Did you change an ingredient?"