Dwarven Drinking Duel
Dwarves, who never get drunk no matter how much they drink, are famous as a race of artisans thanks to their innate dexterity. But just like that dexterity, there's one other thing...
"Here, drink up!" Splash!!
"...This is one serving?"
"What else would it be?"
In a tavern already bustling since early afternoon, I blinked at the mug full of golden liquid that Brina had handed me after we entered together.
Whew. It's at least three times bigger than a normal beer mug.
The mug was larger than a human head, brimming with beer. Was this what you'd expect from dwarves, renowned for their legendary tolerance just like their craftsmanship?
"What's wrong? Too much? Well, for a human..."
"...It's not that. I'll drink it fine."
I cut off Brina, who was teasing me about being surprised by the mug size and assuming I couldn't hold my liquor, and tilted the mug right away.
Gulp!!
"Ngh...!!"
The moment the rich, malty barley scent hit my throat, my eyes went wide, and I drained the mug without hesitation.
It went down smooth and clean, without any heaviness, carrying a subtle barley aroma that wasn't off-putting. Grain's natural sweetness mixed with a slight bitter accent.
"How is it?"
"...Phew! It's incredible."
The beers I'd had before felt like piss in comparison—this one was on another level.
The stuff I had with Kir a few days ago wasn't this good...?
Actually, a few days back, I'd been curious about how impressive the booze from these "drinking" dwarves really was, so I'd grabbed a beer with Kir. It was decent, but nothing to make a fuss over...
"Oh, that? Of course. The booze outsiders can get is totally different from what us dwarves can."
"Really...?"
"Duh. We're short on stock for ourselves—why would we hand this delicious stuff to outsiders easily?"
Brina puffed out her chest proudly, boasting about dwarven brewing heritage. (My eyes kept drifting to one spot.) I sipped my beer steadily while watching her.
If it's this good, even Kir would down it.
I recalled how Kir had come drinking with me but barely touched hers, saying it wasn't her taste.
"Hey. When you're drinking, empty your head and just drink. Thinking complicated stuff again?"
"Not this time... I was just thinking about the party member who came with me to the Steel Fortress."
"Party member? Adventurer too?"
"Yeah."
A few dwarves were drinking here and there, but it was still early, so the tavern felt spacious overall. Sipping my beer, I cleared my mind and chatted idly with Brina.
"By the way, earlier you were badmouthing mages, calling them 'spell-slingers' and stuff..."
"Hmph. Obviously. Us dwarves especially hate certain races: first, evil god worshippers, then elves and mages."
Evil god followers made sense, but... elves and mages?
"Any reason you lump those two together?"
Dwarves in this world matched every stereotype from Earth's fantasy stories I'd seen—even hating elves for the same reasons, it seemed.
"Do dwarves destroy nature for progress while elves protect it or something?"
"What nonsense? They do guard nature because they worship the 'Mother of Nature,' but that's not the reason."
"Then?"
What the hell could make them hate them that much? I'd never met an elf, so I had some rosy illusions, but hearing dwarves trash them soured my mood a bit...
"Those bastards use the yard-pound system."
".....Huh."
...A hatred with reasons, huh.
"Fuck. When you're making something, how crucial are precise measurements? But those pricks use weird units like miles and pounds, screwing up all the standards!!"
I'd poked the hornet's nest with my question—Brina slammed her mug on the table and exploded in rage.
"Hey, easy on the table..."
"Those dumb pointy-eared idiots keep yapping, but they won't use continental standards—always miles and shit...!!"
"Yeah, I get it. Rant away, then head out."
Even the tavern owner, drawn by the commotion, just nodded along to Brina's elf-bashing and let it slide.
"I knew mages used yard-pound, but elves too?"
"Mages probably learned it from them. Mages obsess over reviving Myth-era magic, and elves have tons of ancient records thanks to their long lifespans."
She must've gotten burned bad by that system before—Brina downed her mug in one go, ordered another, and kept drinking. Fueled by her gripes about elves and mages, her pace picked up.
I nodded along appropriately, matching her tempo, and she eyed me approvingly.
"Not bad... You hold your liquor pretty well. Dwarven booze is seriously strong."
"Yeah. This stuff's potent... It's really beer?"
"Told you—dwarves excel at alchemy too. Not my field, but they mix in alchemical techniques to boost the proof without messing with the taste."
No wonder it hit harder than regular beer... Made with alchemy, huh.
"That's why you can drink tons and it flushes out quick—just one bathroom break and you're good for more! Plus, even if you pee mid-session, the buzz doesn't fade!"
...Isn't that a downside?
I tuned out Brina's praise of dwarven beer and kept sipping.
"Not bragging, but I handle my booze decently. Especially lately—no hangovers."
I'd always been okay with alcohol, and since Gula evolved my body, I'd never gotten properly wasted.
No matter how strong this beer was, a bit wouldn't...
"...What? Ah... Ahaha!"
"Why the laugh?"
"Didn't expect a human to brag about drinking in front of a dwarf. Humans can only chug so much..."
"......"
I'd casually boasted, and Brina burst out laughing, smirking at me. Not outright mocking, but stating plain fact. Absolute confidence that no human could outdrink a dwarf.
"...Well, tolerance varies by person..."
"Pfft. Humans? Even beastkin with their animal traits can't beat us dwarves. Wait—you're not claiming mana pushes out the alcohol or some crap, right?"
"......."
Why did it irk me so much? I never bragged about my drinking or had huge pride in it... but her blatant prodding made my blood boil oddly.
So I fired back.
"Ten more rounds here!"
"Oh?"
I drained my mug and ordered more. Then I stared at Brina sipping hers...
Snicker.
"...!"
I laughed provocatively on purpose.
"You little...?"
With her fiery temper and pride in her tolerance rivaling her craftsmanship, Brina bit the bait and called the owner too.
"Ten more for me!"
Our table, big enough for several people, filled with mugs in seconds.
Brina lifted hers, glaring daggers.
"Never thought I'd see someone picking a drinking fight with a dwarf."
"Fight? You started it."
"I just stated facts. No way a human outdrinks a dwarf."
Still utterly confident. She grinned like it was perfect timing and proposed,
"No need to yap with booze right here. How about a contest—who drinks more?"
"Fine. Wager the bill?"
"Better... Loser grants the winner one wish?"
"...A wish?"
"Yeah. I had a favor to ask anyway—planned to bring it up over drinks. Perfect timing."
A favor? She'd mentioned something passing earlier...
Why frame it as a "wish"? I already owed her a bit, so a reasonable request I'd handle anyway.
"So... Scared?"
"...Nah. Let's do it."
Sudden, but... actually good. I had a proposal for her too.
Plus, something I'd thought of after leaving the Creation Forge—how to talk to the Forge of All Things again.
"Alright then..."
"Cheers!"
Screw it—I'll win.
Honestly, I was pretty confident. My Gula-evolved body always exceeded expectations. A normal-ish guy like me now getting called a prodigy while learning swordsmanship from Karen proved it.
And that body had boosted recovery and resistance—no drunkenness or minor illnesses since.
But...
Ugh...!
"Hic... Getting tough? Thought so."
I fought back vomit, forcing a grin at Brina.
Dozens of empty mugs scattered around. Her face flushed, but way better off than me.
This is a dwarf...?
I admitted I'd underestimated the race. Their alchemically enhanced beer was way stronger than expected, and Brina outdrank me handily.
I can squeeze out a bit more... but it's only a matter of time.
"Break time? Giving up?"
The buzz made my head spin. I played it cool, but one or two more and I'd hurl.
Losing's no big deal...
Her wish? I'd planned to help anyway since I owed her. From her personality, nothing outrageous.
My own idea could've been a straight trade, no "wish" needed.
The problem was...
"Ehehe! See? A lightweight challenging a dwarf... Rough, huh? Want milk? Honey water?"
"......."
She thought she'd won, teasing relentlessly. It grated too much.
She's pretty buzzed... Earlier, I'd shrug off jabs, but now...
Crude term, but she was pissing me off. Seeing her gloat, I itched to shut her up.
Ugh...!!
But my body, after dozens of dwarven mugs, hit its limit regardless.
"One more!" Glug!!
With a huge keg beside her for refills, Brina looked good for ten more easy.
"Urgh..."
Head spinning. Stomach churning, yet the beer's aroma lingered richly in my throat.
Its fizz, barley scent, smooth swallow replayed vividly, tempting me. The flow from mouth to gut, the buzz spreading—hyper-real.
"You too... Huh? It's full. Hurry and drain it."
"...Ugh... Huh?"
Dizzy, Brina refilled mine, urging me on like hesitation meant forfeit, cackling.
I stared blankly.
...Didn't I just empty it?
I'd swear I drained it amid the haze...
"Come on."
"Ngh...."
Head too fuzzy to track pours. No choice—I lifted and emptied it.
"Guh...!!"
The once-fragrant beer now turned my stomach, but forcing it down, something felt off.
Why's there so much...?
This pour felt bigger than before, despite same amounts. Why...?
...Huh?
In my daze, I noticed what I'd missed.
...When did I start burning replication mana?
Usually dormant without use, it was draining steadily now.
Annoyed amid emptying struggles, I canceled whatever I was replicating, not even knowing what.
Replication cancel.
The instant I thought it—Whoosh!!
"...Ah?"
"What? Too much? Gonna puke? Stop then—I won't watch good booze wasted!"
The beer I'd forced down... vanished from my gut instantly. I freaked.
...No way?
"One more..."
"...No, I'll pour."
"Why? Scared of small pours? I'll check amounts."
I glanced at buzzed-but-holding Brina, pretended to uncork the keg base, and murmured,
...Replication.
I recalled the taste, scent of the beer I'd chugged nonstop. The malty aroma bubbling in my gut, its swallow, fizz—perfectly.
Aimed fingertip at my mug, whispered replication—Glug!!
"......!!"
Golden liquid poured from my finger.
Damn, looks gross...
Evoked something nasty visually, but full mug sniffed right—definitely the beer.
Success?!
Buzz faded; I thrilled. Since replicating plain water, I'd practiced liquids.
Complex mixes were tough... but this beer—with alchemy, enzymes, barley, alcohol— I replicated it.
Maybe it's simpler than thought? Or my practice paid off.
Didn't matter. Key: I could replicate dwarven beer now.
"Why'd you stop? Done?"
Gulp!!!
Ignored her taunt, chugged the replicated mug. Same taste, scent slid down, hit gut...
Cancel.
Fwhoosh!!
"......!!"
The beer in my stomach vanished clean.
"...Phew."
Suppressed a laugh, pretended to rinse my mouth, shrugged at Brina.
"Let's keep going?"
"...What's with you suddenly."
She eyed me suspiciously, sensing my shift, but I stayed bold.
Gulp!!
Brina drained hers, refilled. I matched, filling mine—with replication, of course.
"Cheers."
A bit cheating... but she started the teasing, right?