Chapter 65: Is This Really a Diplomatic Delegation? (2)
Chapter 65: Is This Really a Diplomatic Delegation? (2)
(65/225)
The delegation from the Doren Kingdom entered the lord’s audience hall under the intense attention of the dwarves.
On the Ashred Continent, where dwarves lived, there was no king. Instead, each region was governed by its own lord, forming the structure of their society.
Geshtain introduced the delegation to Wigenburg, the lord of the city.
To dwarves, the word “high” carried another meaning entirely: authority.
Seated on a chair atop a raised platform, Wigenburg, a figure no different from a king in practice, looked down at the delegation with imposing dignity.
“…And for that reason, the delegation of the Doren Kingdom—”
Duke Layton spoke on behalf of the delegation to Wigenburg, who gazed down from above.
Still mentally drained from the dwarves’ overwhelming welcome earlier, Layton inwardly prayed that this audience would end quietly.
The rest of the delegation standing behind Layton felt the same way.
They were grateful for the friendliness, but the sheer lack of restraint was exhausting. None of them had expected the dwarves to trail after them all the way up to the audience hall.
Because of that, when they first saw Wigenburg, they worried Wigenburg might rush over like the others and bombard them with questions.
“I understand. During the week you remain here, we will provide every possible convenience so that you may stay without discomfort.”
Contrary to their fears, Wigenburg maintained dignity, observing them from afar. The delegation felt relief instead.
Duke Layton, who had been kneeling on one knee throughout the exchange, bowed his head and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Then we shall conclude the formal proceedings here.”
As soon as Wigenburg finished speaking, guards closed the doors and drew the curtains.
“Before we proceed with full exchange between dwarves and humans, there is something that must be proven.”
Snap.
Wigenburg raised a short right arm and snapped fingers.
The doors opened, and dwarves carrying something on their shoulders began to file in.
Thud.
Thud, thud, thud.
The heavy sound of large beer barrels being set down echoed behind Duke Layton.
“First, we drink.”
“…Pardon?”
“To dwarves, beer is the water of life. The truest conversations are those shared over it. Humans we meet after centuries—drink with us.”
The last trace of dignity they had hoped for vanished.
What stood before them now was an alarming degree of informality.
Placed before the bewildered delegation were a massive round table brought beneath the platform, and mugs stacked high upon it.
“It’s time.”
Geshtain nudged Hayward at the waist, urging him forward.
“Your moment to shine.”
“Me? Is it really okay for me to drink?”
“What’s with the polite talk? Just come and drink!”
All but shoved into a seat opposite Wigenburg, Hayward found himself holding a beer mug that was enormous even by human standards, a pitcher-sized mug.
“Are you the human representative?”
“Well, that is to say…”
Hayward glanced at Layton beside him.
Until moments ago, Layton had been the human representative, but Layton had missed the chance to stand and was still kneeling on one knee.
What should I do?
I don’t know either!
After exchanging looks with Layton, Hayward gave up thinking.
“To hell with it.”
He tilted the mug and drank.
Gulp, gulp.
“Hm. That much is the bare minimum. Next.”
Gulp, gulp.
“So there are humans who know how to drink. One more.”
Gulp, gulp…
Hayward downed the equivalent of three full pitchers in moments, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and smiled brightly.
“Ah! Even after all this time, dwarf beer is exceptional. Just that alone makes the trip to Ashred worthwhile. May I have another?”
“A human man who understands dwarf etiquette! Drink as much as you like! In that spirit, have one with me!”
Wigenburg drained the mug alongside Hayward, a broad smile spreading across Wigenburg’s face.
Now it was clear why Hayward had been included in the delegation.
“Why are you just standing there? You too.”
Hayward gestured to Craid, while on the dwarf side, Geshtain took a seat to Wigenburg’s left.
That marked the beginning.
Humans and dwarves alike joined one after another, and a full-blown drinking feast began.
As Geshtain had intended, Hayward matched Wigenburg drink for drink, driving the atmosphere higher and higher.
The other members of the delegation admired the taste of dwarf beer but stopped at a reasonable limit.
“Young human, why do you not drink?”
Wigenburg noticed Jinseo, the only one who had not touched a single drop, and offered a mug sloshing with beer.
“In my homeland, there is a law forbidding those who operate vehicles like carriages from drinking alcohol.”
“Is that so? Why?”
“Because drinking and driving inevitably leads to accidents.”
“How much do you drink to require such a law? Three barrels? Four?”
When Wigenburg spoke of alcohol tolerance in barrels rather than mugs, the delegation could not hide weariness.
Jinseo forced a smile.
“Compared to you, people from my country are relatively weak to alcohol and get drunk easily.”
It was a difficult thing to say as a Korean, but compared to dwarf tolerance, it was unavoidable.
Still, that was not the true reason.
Judging by the flow of the evening, everyone would soon be thoroughly drunk. Someone needed to stay clear-headed.
And as the audience hall descended further into chaos, Jinseo felt even less inclined to drink.
“However, I cannot deny that refusing is against dwarf etiquette. As an apology, I have prepared a special gift.”
He lifted a box he had brought from the food truck and offered it to Wigenburg.
Inside the elegant wooden case were a bottle of premium whiskey and a hip flask.
Beer-loving dwarves would surely appreciate a completely different kind of alcohol, he reasoned.
The hip flask had come as a bonus with the whiskey.
“An exotic liquor—this is a thoughtful gift. And this object here… its refinement stands out. It looks like the work of a craftsman equal to our own dwarf artisans.”
After inspecting the hip flask, Wigenburg lifted the whiskey bottle, the true gift.
“May I drink this unfamiliar liquor now?”
“Of course.”
Wigenburg pulled the cork and poured it straight into the mouth.
It was drunk as if it were beer, then stopped midway.
“This is different from beer.”
Naturally so. Flavor aside, whiskey had far higher alcohol content.
“It does not seem suited to drinking in large quantities like beer.”
“Yes. It’s best to pour it into the hip flask and sip it slowly.”
Following Jinseo’s advice, Wigenburg poured the remaining whiskey into the flask and began taking small sips.
“Drinking this way makes it tantalizing.”
“It’s a liquor meant to be enjoyed for its aroma and quality rather than quantity. But the gift does not end there.”
For those who loved alcohol, there was one more essential gift.
It was time to introduce beer’s perfect partner, something only Geshtain had enjoyed until now.
“Please try drinking with side dishes. Unfortunately, we cannot bring the food truck into the audience hall…”
“Oh! Come to think of it, we’ve been drinking without food?”
“Side dishes? What are those?”
“Honestly, drinking without them is like enjoying only half of life.”
“We drink beer just fine without that.”
The reactions split between those who had experienced anju and those who had not.
“Come now, you’ll understand once you try! Let’s go outside! Follow me! You too, my lord!”
Under Geshtain’s direction, the dwarves opened the doors and poured into the corridor.
The dwarves carrying unopened beer barrels arrived at the entrance of the lord’s estate, where the food truck was parked.
“Please wait a moment.”
As Jinseo prepared the side dishes, the dwarves stared into the kitchen with eager eyes.
The delegation members, already familiar with anju, took their seats with far more relaxed expressions.
The aroma of chicken spread as the battered breast meat of a Cockatrice King fried, drawing smiles to the delegation’s faces.
The dwarves were already drooling purely on instinct.
“Beer calls for this, doesn’t it? Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Is that so? Let’s see…”
Wigenburg grabbed a piece of golden, boneless fried chicken with a bare hand and popped it into the mouth.
The other dwarves followed.
Crunch.
Crackle.
Only the sound of batter breaking filled the space as the dwarves fell silent.
A side dish that silently commanded: stop talking and eat.
That was the moment chicken first set foot on the Ashred Continent.
From that day on, drinking parties were held daily under the name of cultural exchange between dwarves and humans.
To accommodate the crowds, the food truck was parked in the central plaza, and dwarves gathered daily to enjoy newly introduced side dishes.
“Golbaengi muchim—spicy and delicious!”
“Hey! Who picked out only the sausages from the soya mix?”
“Dip the fries in ketchup once! This isn’t a solo meal!”
As newcomers to anju, disputes broke out when unwritten rules were broken.
Still, the overall mood was cheerful.
For dwarves who prided themselves on loving beer above all else, discovering food that made it even better was cause for celebration.
Chicken, in particular, became even more popular than it had been on the Francia Continent.
“Today’s chicken is sold out.”
“What? Already?”
“I only had one piece!”
Groans echoed everywhere.
The stored Cockatrice King meat was not infinite, making chicken the only side dish with a strict daily limit.
Unable to eat more, dwarves sighed in disappointment.
Instead, Jinseo offered other side dishes, satisfying a wide range of tastes.
“The metal itself seems ordinary, but the craftsmanship is astonishing.”
“With skill like this, I’d want to work together. Which workshop made these?”
Dwarf blacksmiths sitting at the counter climbed onto their chairs, closely inspecting Jinseo’s cooking tools.
Their interest in the food truck had extended beyond cooking itself.
Jinseo repeatedly explained that he had simply bought them cheaply at a nearby shop, only deepening their curiosity.
Each time, he redirected their attention by serving more food.
“I’m a mage, so I don’t know much about that. But Jinseo uses those tools to make incredible bunsik. Isn’t that enough?”
Geshtain responded lazily, shoveling a large spoonful of corn cheese into the mouth.
“But drinking and eating like this gets boring. Put on a drama or a movie.”
“Shall I?”
At Geshtain’s suggestion, Jinseo stepped down and turned on the large TV.
“Waaah!”
Instead of a dramatic film scene, roaring cheers from a packed stadium blasted through the speakers.
Next came an attacker sprinting across a green field with the ball.
“Ah, wrong one.”
“Leave it. It’s something new. I want a closer look.”
Geshtain stopped Jinseo and dragged a table right in front of the TV.
“What is this?”
“It’s a broadcast of a sport called football. It’s an important match, so I saved it to watch later, but I forgot.”
“Football? Sport? Match? Broadcast?”
The unfamiliar words left Geshtain bewildered.
As Jinseo patiently explained, dwarves enjoying beer and food began to gather around the screen.
“What’s that?”
“The pictures are moving!”
“Am I already drunk? I’ve only had two barrels!”
Seeing a large TV for the first time, dwarves were fascinated by how it worked.
“Human magic has developed in a strange direction. But what are those humans doing on that green field?”
“They seem to be kicking that round ball.”
As it moved beyond their understanding, their focus shifted to the scene itself.
“They put the ball into a net and start celebrating.”
“Looks like they only pass to people wearing the same color.”
“It’s… kind of fun.”
Eating chicken and drinking beer, the dwarves fixed their eyes on the screen.
Alcohol and sports had always gone hand in hand.
And among sports, football paired especially well with beer.
“I didn’t get it at first, but now I think I understand the basics.”
“Hey, humans! You’ve been enjoying games like this?”
“We haven’t seen it before either.”
“Really?”
Kicking games had existed on both the Francia and Ashred Continents for ages.
But adding goals and victory conditions turned football into something that captivated both dwarves and humans alike.
“Would you like to try it yourselves?”
Jinseo stepped into the trailer, took out a football, and showed it to the dwarves.