However, after the brief impact on his taste buds, Louis quickly calmed down.
He carefully felt the changes in his body.
Although that warm current refreshed his spirit and dispelled much of his fatigue and chill, the feeling was subtle—far from the immediate improvement a real potion would provide.
It felt more like a psychological effect. For instance, when someone extremely hungry eats delicious sweets, they always feel an inexplicable sense of happiness and satisfaction.
"Sigh, it makes sense. It tastes so good that it probably isn't a proper potion," Louis muttered to himself.
After all, in his memory, potions were mostly used to treat illnesses; he had never heard of one that tasted even decent, let alone delicious.
But the problem was... why did it taste so good?
He was certain he had just used the ordinary ingredients and seasonings the children brought, and his cooking method wasn't anything special.
"What's going on?" Louis was completely baffled.
Could it be that ingredients 'stimulated' by a failed Transfiguration spell automatically become tastier?
That couldn't be right. If that were the case, wouldn't every Hufflepuff be a master of Transfiguration?
Before he could figure out how his 'casual cooking' had produced a pot of fish soup comparable to the delicacies in 'Food Wars,' a curious child's voice came from behind him.
"Louis... is this the potion you've been wanting to make?"
Louis turned around to see Carl standing not far away. He was staring unblinkingly at the iron pot emitting an alluring aroma, his face full of curiosity.
"Uh..." Louis didn't know how to explain for a moment, so he said vaguely, "I guess you could say that... do you want to try some?"
"Can I?" Carl's eyes lit up, and he walked over quickly, his gaze falling on the milky-white soup bubbling slightly in the pot.
Louis smiled, picked up another clean small bowl and a spoon, and handed them to him. "Help yourself, be careful, it's hot."
Carl took the bowl and spoon and carefully served himself half a bowl.
He didn't drink it immediately. Instead, he leaned close to the rim of the bowl, gently sniffing the rich aroma, then scooped up a spoonful, blew on it carefully, and put it in his mouth.
As the soup entered his mouth, Carl's chewing motion paused slightly. A look of obvious surprise appeared on his normally calm face, and his hand holding the spoon tightened.
He didn't speak immediately, just scooped another spoonful and tasted it slowly, as if confirming something.
After quietly drinking a few mouthfuls, he finally put down the spoon and looked at Louis. "It reminds me of the taste of the cream of mushroom soup my mom used to make before the apocalypse..."
He paused, as if thinking of how to describe it. "But this tastes even better than what Mom made."
After a few sips, even his constantly tense nerves seemed to relax quite a bit.
"I didn't expect to be able to drink something this delicious after the apocalypse..."
After saying that, Carl snapped back to reality. As if remembering something, he lowered his voice. "Hey, Louis... don't tell Mom what I just said."
Looking at his little-adult act, Louis couldn't help but laugh. He also leaned in closer, matching Carl's manner, and responded solemnly in a low voice, "Don't worry, it's a secret."
Then he pointed to the large, heavy iron pot. "However, you have to help me with something. This pot is quite heavy; help me carry it back together."
"This is a return gift for you all. I want to give Duane, Sophia, and the others some to taste as well."
"No problem!" Carl agreed immediately, placed the empty bowl on a nearby rock, and stood up to help.
The two said no more and worked together to carefully carry the steaming pot of fish soup back to the camp.
Although Louis said it was a gift for the children, such a large pot of soup couldn't be finished by just three kids. Moreover, the domineering aroma had long since wafted through the entire camp, making everyone's mouth water.
Thus, when Louis and Carl returned to the campfire with the pot, they were immediately surrounded by a crowd.
"What is that smell? It smells amazing!"
"Louis, you made this? I can't believe it!"
Everyone marveled at once, taking out their own bowls and utensils.
"Oh! My God!" Glenn, who was closest, was the first to taste the fish soup. He narrowed his eyes comfortably. "Is this the potion you brewed? It's magical!"
"Don't tell me you learned this from some master chef at Harrison Hospital too..."
"Cough, cough..." Lori, who was helping distribute the soup, couldn't help but cough twice upon hearing this.
"Sorry!" Glenn immediately realized he had said the wrong thing and waved his hands in explanation. "Anyway, thank you, Louis!"
Glenn wasn't the only one conquered by the pot of fish soup. Everyone else in the camp praised it endlessly after tasting it. It was as if the fatigue and horror of the past few days were dispelled by this bowl of hot soup.
For a while, only the sounds of slurping soup and satisfied sighs remained by the campfire. Almost everyone was immersed in this rare delicacy and moment of peace.
Except for a certain someone who was probably currently 'recovering' alone in a tent.
The children expressed their love even more directly.
Morales's two children held their small bowls and finished the soup in a few gulps. Then they stared longingly at the pot and then at Louis.
Sophia also took small sips, not forgetting to use her spoon to push the largest piece of fish in her bowl to her mother, Carol.
Several people gathered around Louis, chattering about where they would go next to help him find 'ingredients,' as if Louis really could use those things to make more delicious 'Potions.'
Jenny looked at her son, who looked like he wanted to lick the bowl clean, then at the little soup left in the pot. She smiled helplessly and gave her portion to Duane.
After finishing the distribution, Lori asked curiously, "Child, how did you make it taste like this? Did you put something special in it?"
I don't know either... Louis grumbled internally.
Aside from trying a failed Transfiguration with magic once, the rest of the process was normal, nothing special.
"It should be because of the seasonings," he recalled and quickly thought of a somewhat reasonable explanation. "I added the seasonings Duane gave me. Maybe one of them is quite special."
Lori nodded thoughtfully upon hearing this.
After a while, Merle, who had been silently drinking his soup without speaking, put down his empty bowl.
He licked his lips, seemingly wanting more, but eventually stood up and walked toward his brother, Daryl, who was preparing to go into the woods to check the traps.
He followed Daryl for a bit. Looking at his brother's silent back, he finally couldn't help but speak. "Hey, Daryl, are we... really just staying here?"
Daryl didn't stop and asked back without turning his head, "Otherwise?"
"Didn't we agree at the start..." Merle's voice dropped. "Get some supplies and weapons first, and then..."
"And then what?" Daryl stopped, turned around, and looked at him like he was an idiot. "Just the two of us, go and rob them when they just got their weapons back?"
"Look at Rick and Shane. Which one is an easy target? And that kid named Louis—did you forget how he saved you?"
He paused, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. "Even if we actually succeeded in robbing them, then what? The two of us look for food ourselves? Stand guard ourselves? Wash clothes and cook ourselves? Treat our own wounds? Can you do it?"
Merle was left speechless.
Daryl ignored him and turned to continue deeper into the woods. Merle stood in place, cursed a few times, but ultimately said nothing and followed dejectedly... After a short rest, a more serious problem faced everyone—where should they go next?
This quarry camp was no longer safe; last night's walker horde was the best proof.
Everyone sat around the campfire, and the atmosphere became heavy again.
"We must leave as soon as possible." Rick broke the silence first, and everyone's gaze focused on him. He looked at their trusting eyes, pondered for a moment, and stated his goal: "We can go to the CDC."
"The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention?" Morales was a bit surprised. "Is that place still operational?"
"I'm not sure," Rick said honestly. "But I believe if there are still government agencies running, no matter how much power is left, they will prioritize protecting that place."
He looked at everyone and continued to explain, "That might be our best chance right now—a relatively stable residence with a higher level of security."
His voice paused, carrying a faint trace of longing. "Maybe... they're even still conducting virus research there. Perhaps they can find a cure."
Hearing this somewhat naive idea, Shane frowned slightly.
Just as he was about to speak up in rebuttal, a calm voice beat him to it.
"Actually, I just had an idea too. I think we can go to Fort Benning.