The Underdog in the Corner
Dwarven Drinking Contest.
It’s very simple. A brainless and vulgar method to determine who can drink the most.
It’s similar to dueling trials used to resolve disputes in medieval Europe, albeit more peaceful.
This contest is possible only because Dwarves love alcohol.
“Hey, did you just hear that loser? He wants to have a drinking match with me!”
“Hahaha! Is he out of his mind?”
Dwarves, proud of their drinking capacity, laugh heartily at the suggestion.
Among the many species, Dwarves are at the top when it comes to alcohol tolerance. Challenging a Dwarf to a drinking contest is a foolish idea.
“Why? Are you scared?”
But what am I supposed to do?
Do I also have a trick up my sleeve?
“What’s that, punk?”
“If you’re confident, just accept it instead of flapping your lips!”
As I teasingly provoked Rocksar in front of me, his face twisted in anger. For some reason, he started scratching his face, and then shouted towards the tavern.
“Valdira!”
Moments later, a female Dwarf with a swaying backside walked over from the tavern. The Dwarves watching the situation whistled and cheered in welcome.
“What’s the commotion, Rocksar?”
“I’m going to teach this loser Human the wrath of a Dwarf!”
“Hmm?”
She stared at me intently; it was Valdira, the barmaid.
Her thick makeup and bright red lipstick, along with a mole by her mouth and her voluptuous figure, matched perfectly with how she looked in illustrations I had seen before.
Valdira is known as one of the top beauties in Doomheim, but…
‘Hmm.’
It’s a time to check just how far the aesthetic sense of Humans and Dwarves diverge. I also realized once again how extraordinary Asies, who is referred to as a princess among those Dwarves, really is.
“Oh my, is this the princess? She’s slightly prettier than me, just a little bit, though.”
Has she lost her conscience?
“And this is the slave merchant who brought Perka.”
Valdira, who stood at eye level with me, stared intently. Then she raised the corners of her lips, and her mole seemed to curl into her smile.
“She’s cute, isn’t she? She’s very much my type. How about it? Want to come over to my place for stew tonight?”
As she spoke, Valdira draped her arm over my shoulder and leaned against me. In an instant, goosebumps crawled all over my body!
“No thanks. I can’t. Please don’t.”
“Oh, are you being coy with me? How charming!”
“Haha, if I act cute twice, I might end up with feathers sprouting and have to live in the beastman country.”
I carefully wriggled my arms free, trying to extricate myself.
“Did that guy… just reject Valdira’s flirting?”
“What? Does he not have eyes for women?”
“They said his eyes were black; turns out he’s blind!”
As various speculations flew around, Valdira’s expression turned sour as she realized she had been turned down. The corners of her mouth twisted in anger.
“You’ve got to be kidding! Am I being humiliated like this because of you, Rocksar?!”
“Not at all, Valdira. I just want to have a drinking contest with this loser.”
“Hearing that is music to my ears. Don’t bother me with that ugly face ever again and just get rid of him!”
“Don’t worry!”
Clap, clap.
“Hey, everyone, set it up!”
At Valdira’s clap, Dwarven waiters came in carrying wooden barrels that were as big as themselves. They placed the barrels around the table with a thud.
Those huge barrels are all filled with alcohol. Instead of worrying about getting drunk, I should be more concerned about getting full.
Roksar pulled up a chair and sat down.
“The rules are very simple. The first one to pass out loses.”
“Simple, I like it.”
“If I win, I’ll leave Doomheim right away with the princess. If you win…”
“If I win, let’s say I make a small request. Hmm… how about standing strong against a dragon’s breath without running away?”
“That’s unnecessarily specific, but I don’t mind. Anyway, I’ll win. So, Valdira, give the signal!”
“Just a moment.”
Roksar frowned as if my interruption displeased him.
“What’s the matter? Are you trying to back out now?”
“I just drank a lot earlier, so I’m going to take care of something quickly.”
“Ha! Do you really think that will help you win?”
“Length is determined through competition. Well, some might not need to compete to see that it’ll be short.”
Politely asking for understanding, I headed towards the back of the building to find a secluded area. Once I confirmed there were no people, I moved my fingers in the air.
Ah, this cool and heavy sensation.
It’s time for me to do some item experimentation alone.
Carami returned to her seat shortly.
Her expression seemed lighter, as if she had relieved herself. The characteristic curve of her lips made a pleasing impression on those who didn’t know her well.
If someone were to care that Carami was the Death God of slaves, they would have tried to uncover the sinister intentions hidden in her smile, but Dwarves are not a scheming race.
No one at the table suspected anything, and Roksar stood on the starting line of the bet without question.
“Is everyone ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course.”
“Good. Then get ready. Start!”
Valdira clapped her hands lightly to signal the start of the contest. Roksar sprang into action the moment it began.
“Watch closely, loser. This is how you drink!”
Roksar lifted a barrel high and, quite literally, started pouring alcohol into his mouth. It seemed he had done this more than once; hardly any spilled out.
Just as he leaned back and gulped down the alcohol from the barrel, he suddenly pulled it away from his mouth and…
Thud!
He slammed it back onto the table.
Wiping his mouth with his thick forearm, he looked around.
“What are you doing, you brats? Get hyped!”
“Damn it, he’s the Earth’s shield, Roksar! I’ve never seen anyone drink this smoothly!”
“Yeah, this is it. This is how a Meister drinks!”
The Dwarves erupted into applause and cheers. The drunkard’s barrel had turned into a festival.
Satisfied by their response, Roksar grinned broadly. On the other hand, Carami was holding a rather small drinking cup, which made it look particularly tiny in comparison.
Seeing the miniature-like cup, Roksar sneered.
“Yeah, don’t overdo it, loser. That kind of baby cup suits a punk like you. Hahaha!”
As if to give us a fair challenge, Carami couldn’t drink like Roksar. It wasn’t just a matter of skill—she probably couldn’t even lift the barrel.
Even if she did, it would be obvious that half would spill. The difference in the amount both would drink was enormous.
“Hmm….”
If Roksar was quickening the pace, it would be a blessing for Carami, but there was something concerning.
Currently, Carami had invested 5,000 points into the [Invulnerability Elixir] item. She wasn’t lying when she said she was going to take care of something.
The Invulnerability Elixir was the item she used during a drinking contest with Arfia. It grants complete immunity to harmful debuffs affecting the body, such as poison and intoxication.
Because of its absurd performance, it came with limitations: it was expensive, had a cooldown period, and lasted only one hour.
‘At this rate, I can drink for over an hour.’
She was chugging down from the barrel without any sign of intoxication. Being a Dwarf, alcohol was like water to them, and they were used to it.
Plus, with such a disparity in the amount being consumed… even if Roksar collapsed, nobody would recognize Carami’s victory.
Carami concluded that she had to use some tricks. Suddenly, she released a long sigh that might have made those watching fatigue too.
“Ha… I was excited when I heard it was a Dwarven favorite, but this bland drink is something I’ve never tasted before. Drinking something so mundane while boasting about their pride in drinking is the mark of a cowardly bunch.”
“………What?”
“The best tavern in Doomheim shapes up to be like this. Dwarves are, after all, just the defeated from the underground of the past.”
The raucous atmosphere in the tavern turned icy. Asies looked towards the sky.
Did she do something again?
Fortunately, it wasn’t snowing.
This was due to the palpable tension emanating from the Dwarves.
“What did you just say…?”
“The alcohol I had at Dae-Surim was aromatic and sweet, it made my heart race. Sure enough, those Elf drinks…”
Bang!
Roksar’s arm became a hammer and slammed down on the table, turning it to dust.
“Cancel that…! Just now…!!!”
Carami raised both hands with a smile, as if to yield.
“Cancel.”
“Who the hell are you messing with?”
“I canceled because you asked. Why are you doing this? Oh, was that for real?”
“Of course not! No one can match our Dwarves when it comes to alcohol! Those damn Elves drink what only children should!”
“Hmph, even if you say that, words alone won’t do… even when a slave merchant sells slaves, they show them off…”
Carami deliberately trailed off. Rocksar, tricked by the cunning words of the slave merchant, erupted like a volcano.
“What are you doing standing there, Valdira! Bring the strongest stuff without delay!”
“Wait, Roksar. I know you’re mad, but that’s not something to drink as a wager. And do you even know how much it costs?”
“Damn it! I just got compared to wood, does money really matter? I’ll pay for it, so bring it here right now!”
Things were getting strangely out of hand.
However, Valdira, as an innkeeper Dwarf, wouldn’t tolerate being disrespected over alcohol.
She stepped inside and came out with a new drink and a beautifully crafted cup. It was no longer in a barrel but in a bottle this time.
“Oh, something new has appeared.”
“It’s made from dragon’s blood. Depending on how you craft it, it can become medicine, but this one was brewed as alcohol.”
Valdira opened the bottle of alcohol.
With a pop, the cork flew off.
Smoke began to seep from the mouth of the bottle.
“The problem is that it could be poisonous to most living things.”
Just like the earth itself, the body of a dragon is known to have no waste.
Their blood, commonly referred to as the main ingredient in elixirs, is traded at a premium even in the tiniest of vials.
This drink, having undergone dilution hundreds of times, might only list 0.0001g of its constituents, but it still contains the blood of a top-tier dragon.
Drinking it means you might be gone in an instant.
“This looks great. Winning with just one drink would be incredibly clean. Asies, please set it up.”
Set it up, what?
Asies tilted her head.
“It means she wants a table made here.”
Ah.
Another lesson learned.
Asies nodded.
With a swish.
An ice table was created in place of the broken one.
Valdira poured the drink into two cups. The deep purple liquid with a sinister sheen filled them up. Carami and Rocksar grasped their respective cups.
“Don’t goof around and die; surrender now, loser. With a body as pitiful as yours, if you accept it, your blood will start to boil.”
“Ah, your growth plates are on your tongue, huh? Why are you so long-winded?”
Roksar’s expression mixed humor and anger. The twitching of his face made him look ridiculous.
“Alright, then drink and die!”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.”
Carami extended her cup for a clink, but Roksar ignored her with a snort. He straight away poured the drink into his mouth.
Carami, as if undeterred, lightly laughed, savoring the aroma before slowly sipping the alcohol. She emptied her cup entirely.
The two of them placed their cups down and looked at each other, checking each other’s states.
Both seemed fine.
The audience held their breath in anticipation, but no significant change occurred even as time passed. Roksar was doing well, and so was Carami, leaving everyone baffled.
Was Valdira just being overly dramatic?
Turns out, dragon’s blood isn’t all that remarkable.
“Roksar…?”
At that moment, Valdira sensed something strange. Feeling unfair that it would only end up with her as the odd one out, she prayed for someone to collapse dramatically while examining them closely.
She noticed Roksar was frozen in place.
“Hey, Roksar.”
There was no response.
Even when she waved her hand in front of his face, he didn’t blink.
He remained with his arms crossed, glaring at Carami.
“Roksar, you’re okay, right?”
Valdira gently shook Roksar.
Just as it seemed like his shoulder shook…
“Eh?”
Thud.
He tipped over and fell to the ground.
Despite being on the ground, his posture stayed fixed.
He was knocked out with his eyes open!
“Ro, Roksar!”
“Coughing… phew…”
The bizarre sight of him snoring with his eyes open.
The drink made from dragon’s blood was no joke. It was potent enough to knock out even Roksar with a single hit.
Then what about Carami?
All eyes turned towards her.
Naturally, there were expectations that she too might be passed out standing, but…
“Hmm~ this is tastier than I expected.”
Her state remained unchanged.
In fact, she wore an even more satisfied smile than before and sneakily filled her cup again.
“This is good alcohol, Madam. I apologize for saying it was inferior to Elves.”
“Uh, uh?”
“The gentleman here actually has the drink, so please accept it from him.”
Carami stood up after finishing her drink. She winked at Asies, who followed suit.
She looked down at the unconscious Roksar.
“I enjoyed today’s contest, Meister Roksar. Since I won the bet, you’ll have to come visit me one day, as promised.”
Even if a dragon were to breathe fire.
“I was hoping to spend some quiet time, but it’s not that easy.”
On her way home, Carami mumbled with a hint of frustration.
The commotion had gotten too loud, and they had to leave the tavern. It seemed she wouldn’t see a tipsy Asies as originally planned.
“Next time, rather than a tavern, I want to find a tranquil place to enjoy some time—”
“Hic.”
“Let’s enjoy it… Asies?”
At the sudden sound of a cute hiccup, Carami turned around. Asies stood frozen with wide eyes as if shocked by her own surprise.
“…? Hic.”
Her body shook. Unaware of the reason, Asies tried to cover her mouth but kept hiccupping uncontrollably.
“Oh….”
Carami couldn’t help but let out an admiring gasp over something so trivial. A smile crept onto her face.
“It seems I didn’t leave empty-handed after all.”
That was a good find.
