Chapter 125: The Dwarven Way of Communication (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 125: The Dwarven Way of Communication (2)
A dwarven drinking contest.
It was a simple, if crude and barbaric, method of settling a dispute: a competition to see who could drink more.
It was similar in spirit to trial by combat, a method of resolving matters in medieval Europe. Though, I suppose you could call this way more peaceful.
It was a contest only possible for dwarves, who loved their drink.
“Hey, did you hear what that runt just said? He wants to have a drinking match with me!”
“Hahaha! Has he lost his mind?”
The dwarves, who took immense pride in their ability to hold their liquor, let out hearty guffaws.
Among all the races, dwarves were top-class drinkers. Challenging a dwarf to a drinking contest was a fool's errand.
“What's the matter? Getting cold feet?”
But what did I care?
I had a plan.
“What did you say, you bastard?”
“If you're so confident, just accept. Why do you keep running your mouth?”
I taunted him right in front of Roxar, whose face crumpled into a scowl. He suddenly started scratching his face as if it were itchy, then bellowed into the tavern.
“Baldira!”
Before long, a female dwarf emerged from the tavern, swaying her hips as she walked. The dwarves who had been watching the situation unfold whistled and cheered in welcome.
“What's all the commotion, Roxar?”
“I'm about to teach this human runt the terror of the dwarves!”
“Hmm?”
The woman staring at me was Baldira, the manager of the Drunkard's Keg.
Her heavy makeup, the bright red lipstick on her lips, the large mole by her mouth, and her stout figure were exactly as I'd once seen in an illustration.
Baldira was known as one of the greatest beauties in Doomheim, but…
Ugh.
It was a moment that confirmed just how far apart human and dwarven aesthetics were. It also made me realize once again how incredible Azyeth must be to be called a princess by these dwarves.
“Oh my, is this the princess? She's a little prettier than me. Just a tiny little bit, though.”
This bitch has no shame.
“And this is the slave trader who brought Perka.”
Baldira, who was the same height as me even though I was sitting, stared at me intently. When the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile, her mole disappeared into the wrinkles of her lips.
“Aren't you a cutie? You're just my type. What do you say? Want to come to my place for some stew tonight?”
As she spoke, Baldira slung an arm over my shoulder and leaned against me. In an instant, goosebumps erupted all over my body!
“No. I can't. Please don't.”
“Oh my, are you trying to act cute for me? How charming.”
“Haha, if I try to act cute again, I won't just get goosebumps, I'll sprout chicken feathers and have to go live in the beastkin nation.”
I shifted my body to the side, carefully removing her arm.
“Th-that guy… he just rejected Baldira's advances?”
“What's with him? Does he have no taste in women?”
“I knew there was something off about his black eyes! He must be blind!”
As wild speculation flew about, Baldira, realizing she'd been shot down, wore an expression of pure mortification. The corner of her mouth twitched with anger.
“Well, I never! Are you kidding me, Roxar? Did you call me over here just to humiliate me like this?”
“That's not it, Baldira. I just wanted to have a drinking contest with this runt.”
“Now that's something I'm happy to hear. The drinks are on the house, so just make sure I never have to see that ugly face again!”
“Don't you worry!”
Clap, clap.
“Boys, set it up!”
At the clap of Baldira's hands, dwarven waiters, each carrying a wooden barrel as big as themselves, came over. They set the barrels down around the table with heavy thuds.
To think all of that was alcohol. I shouldn't be worried about getting drunk; I should be worried about my stomach bursting.
Roxar pulled up a chair and sat down.
“The rule is simple. The first one to pass out loses.”
“Simple is good.”
“If I win, you leave the princess and get the hell out of Doomheim. If you win…”
“If I win, let's just say you'll do me one small favor. Hmm… for example, how about blocking a dragon's breath without running away?”
“That's oddly specific, but I don't care. I'm going to win anyway. Alright, Baldira. Give us the signal!”
“Just a moment, please.”
Roxar frowned, displeased that I had interrupted the flow.
“What is it now? Don't tell me you're trying to back out and run away?”
“I was drinking just before this. I just need to go relieve myself.”
“Ha! You really are insane. You think that's going to help you win?”
“You never know until you measure up. Though, with some people, you don't even need to measure to know they'll come up short.”
I politely excused myself and headed to the deserted area behind the building. After confirming no one was around, I moved my fingers in the air.
Ah, this cool, heavy sensation.
The time had come for me to turn this into an item match.
*
Karami quickly returned to his seat.
His expression was much lighter, as if he'd had a satisfying trip to the privy. The characteristic curve of his lips made his impression a pleasant one—but only to those who didn't know him well.
Anyone wary of Karami the Slave Reaper would have tried to uncover the sinister intentions hidden behind that smile, but dwarves were a race unskilled in cunning.
No one at the table suspected a thing, so Roxar naturally took his place at the starting line.
“Are both sides ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course.”
“Alright. Then… ready, set, go.”
Baldira clapped her hands, lightly signaling the start of the contest. Roxar went full-throttle from the very beginning.
“Watch closely, runt. This is how you're supposed to drink!”
Hoisting the wooden barrel, Roxar began to literally pour the alcohol straight into his mouth. It was clearly not his first time, as almost none of it spilled.
He leaned back, gulping it down, and when the barrel was finally pointed toward the sky, he pulled it away from his lips.
Thud!
He slammed it down forcefully on the table.
He wiped his mouth with a thick forearm and looked around.
“What are you all doing! Cheer for me!”
“Damn, that's Roxar, the Shield of Earth, for you! I've never seen anyone drink so refreshingly!”
“Yeah, this is it! That's what a Meister should be like!”
The dwarves clapped and cheered. The Drunkard's Keg had already turned into a festival.
Satisfied with the response, Roxar laughed boisterously. In contrast, Karami was holding a cup that looked particularly small in his hands.
Roxar sneered at the miniature-like cup.
“That's right, don't push yourself, runt. A toddler's cup like that suits a guy like you. Gwahahahaha!”
Putting aside the fact that his stomach would get full, Karami couldn't possibly drink like Roxar. It wasn't just a lack of skill; he probably couldn't even lift the barrel.
Even if he could, he'd likely spill half of it. The difference in the amount they were drinking was immense.
“Hmm…”
If the other side was going to pick up the pace, it was a welcome development for Karami, but there was one concern.
Karami had just spent 5,000 points to drink a [Potion of Invulnerability]. He hadn't lied when he said he was going to relieve himself.
The Potion of Invulnerability was the same item he'd used in his drinking contest with Alfia. After drinking it, one became completely immune to harmful debuffs like poison and intoxication.
But a cheat item this powerful had its drawbacks: it was expensive, had a cooldown, and its effects only lasted for one hour.
At this rate, he'll be drinking for more than an hour.
Even after chugging a whole barrel, Roxar showed no signs of getting drunk. He was a dwarf, after all, and to them, ale was like water. He was used to it.
Besides, with such a huge difference in the amount they were drinking… even if Roxar collapsed, no one would acknowledge it as Karami's victory.
Karami decided he had to play a card here. He let out a deep sigh, one so heavy it would tire out anyone watching.
“Hah… I was actually looking forward to trying the drink dwarves enjoy, but I've never had something so boring. To think you're all so proud of your drinking when this is all you have… What a pathetic bunch of cowards.”
“…What?”
“I suppose it can't be helped if this is the best tavern in Doomheim. In the end, dwarves are nothing but losers from a bygone era, hiding underground.”
The boisterous tavern fell into a chilling silence. Azyeth looked up at the sky.
She wondered if she had done something again.
Fortunately, it wasn't snowing.
The chill came from the murderous aura radiating from the dwarves.
“What did you just…?”
“The alcohol I had in the Great Forest was fragrant and sweet, I quite liked it. And here I thought elves were supposed to be inferior…”
CRACK!
Roxar's arm, now like a hammer, slammed down on the table. The table shattered into dust.
“Take it back…! What you just said…!!!”
Karami smiled and raised both hands as if in surrender.
“I take it back.”
“Are you messing with me, you bastard?”
“You told me to take it back, so I did. What's the problem? Oh, was I right?”
“As if! No one can match us dwarves when it comes to drink! The swill those knife-ears drink is a beverage for children!”
“Hmm, you can say that, but they're just words… Even a slave trader lets you see the goods before making a deal…”
Karami let his words trail off intentionally. Roxar, completely falling for the slave trader's cunning, roared like an erupting volcano.
“What are you standing around for, Baldira! Bring out the strongest stuff we have!”
“Wait, Roxar. I know you're angry, but that's not something for a drinking contest. And do you have any idea how much it costs?”
“Tch! I've just been compared to a tree-hugger, and you're worried about money? I'll pay for it, just bring it out now!”
Something felt like it was taking a strange turn.
But Baldira, as a dwarf who ran a tavern, couldn't tolerate being slighted over her alcohol either.
She went back inside her shop and returned with a new bottle and two beautifully crafted glasses. Unlike before, the drink was in a bottle, not a barrel.
“Oh, something new has appeared.”
“It's made from dragon's blood. Depending on how it's made, it can be a medicine, but this one was brewed as a liquor.”
Baldira uncorked the bottle.
Pop.
The cork flew out.
Smoke began to slither from the mouth of the bottle.
“The problem is, it can be a poison to most living creatures.”
It was said that, like a cow on Earth, no part of a dragon went to waste.
Among its parts, dragon's blood, a primary ingredient for elixirs, was traded at the highest prices, even for a vial the size of a fingertip.
This liquor had been diluted hundreds of times, so its ingredient list would probably show only 0.0001g, but it was still the blood of the dragon, the strongest of all species.
In other words, one drink and you were out for the count.
“Excellent. Settling this with a single glass would be perfectly clean. Miss Azyeth, could you do the setup?”
Setup?
Azyeth tilted her head.
“In this context, it means 'make a table'.”
Aha.
She had learned something new.
Azyeth nodded.
Crack.
An ice table formed to replace the one that had been shattered.
Baldira poured the liquor into the two glasses. A dark purple liquid with an ominous hue filled them. Karami and Roxar each took a glass.
“Surrender now instead of dying from your foolish bravado, runt. If a frail body like yours takes this, your blood will boil.”
“Did your growth plates move to your tongue? Why is it so long?”
Roxar's face twisted into an expression somewhere between a laugh and a snarl. The twitching of his facial muscles was quite comical.
“Fine, then! Drink up and die!”
“I was hoping you'd say that.”
Karami held out his glass for a toast, but Roxar just snorted and ignored him. He immediately tossed the drink into his mouth.
With a light chuckle, as if to say Roxar was hopeless, Karami savored the aroma before slowly taking a sip. He, too, finished all the liquor in his glass.
The two men set their glasses down and faced each other, checking the other's condition.
Both seemed perfectly fine.
The crowd watched with bated breath, but as time passed, there was no noticeable change. Not only Roxar, but even Karami was completely fine, leaving everyone bewildered.
Had Baldira been exaggerating?
So much for dragon's blood.
“Roxar…?”
It was Baldira who first noticed something was wrong. Annoyed at the thought of being the only one left looking foolish, she had been praying for someone to foam at the mouth and collapse, and had been observing them closely.
That's when she noticed that Roxar wasn't moving at all.
“Hey, Roxar.”
No response.
She waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn't even blink.
He was frozen in place, arms crossed, glaring at Karami.
“Roxar, you're okay, right?”
Baldira carefully shook Roxar.
His shoulder seemed to move, and then…
“Huh?”
Thump.
He tilted to the side and fell to the floor.
Even on the ground, his posture remained fixed.
He had passed out with his eyes wide open!
“R-Roxar!”
“KHHHUUUUUUK… prrrrrrrrr…”
The bizarre sight of him snoring with his eyes open.
The liquor made from dragon's blood was no joke. It was powerful enough to take out even Roxar in a single shot.
Then what about Karami?
All eyes turned to him.
Naturally, they expected him to be passed out on his feet as well, but…
“Hmm~ This is more delicious than I thought.”
His condition was unchanged.
In fact, he wore an even more satisfied smile than before as he casually refilled his glass.
“This is a fine drink, madam. I apologize for saying it was inferior to elven make.”
“Uh, huh?”
“This gentleman here will be paying for the drinks, so please bill him.”
Karami drank the refilled glass and stood up from his seat. He gave Azyeth a wink, and she stood up to follow.
He looked down at Roxar, who was lost in dreamland.
“Today's match was enjoyable, Meister Roxar. I won the bet, so as promised, you'll have to help me out one day.”
Even if a dragon were to breathe fire.
*
“I was trying to spend some quality time with you, but it's not so easy, is it?” Karami muttered complainingly on the way home.
The commotion had gotten too big, forcing them to leave the tavern. It seemed unlikely he'd get to see the drunken Azyeth he had planned for.
“Next time, let's not go to a tavern, but find a quiet place for some quality time—”
“Hic.”
“—together… Miss Azyeth?”
The sudden, cute hiccup made Karami turn around. Azyeth had stopped walking, her eyes wide with surprise. As if she was startled by her own body.
“…? Hic.”
Her whole body jolted. Not understanding what was happening, Azyeth didn't even think to cover her mouth as she hiccuped again and again.
“Oh…”
It was nothing special, but an exclamation of admiration escaped Karami's lips. A smirk spread across his face.
“Looks like the evening wasn't a complete loss after all.”
He had seen something good.
