Chapter 479: Hinterlands (Part 2)

Next, the dwarves finally turned their attention to Alaric.

As a joint envoy of both humans and high elves, and a companion of Alleria, Alaric had indeed earned the trust of the dwarves. 

However, compared to Alleria, the dwarves were not as familiar or enthusiastic toward him, seeing him as a frail human (at least in comparison to the robust Wildhammer dwarves).

Nevertheless, Falstad greeted him warmly, saying, "Mr. Sandor, do you drink? In the Hinterlands, drinking is a must! Our children start learning how to drink at the age of eight!"

Although Alaric had developed his own magic to neutralize alcohol, he still disliked drinking. Even if magic could quickly sober him up, he couldn't stand the strange taste of alcohol.

Faced with the large mug of ale before him, he frowned and cast a pleading look toward Alleria.

However, this time, Alleria didn't come to his rescue. She simply took small sips from her own mug, watching him with an amused smile.

—MMP, this woman is trying to get me drunk!

Alaric immediately saw through her real intentions, cursing inwardly. But now, he had no way out.

He couldn't refuse, nor did he want to.

He understood that even if he wasn't fond of alcohol, an invitation from the ruler of the dwarves to drink was a sign of trust and recognition. Refusing it casually would not be wise.

With no choice, he pinched his nose and took the plunge.

"I haven't had much experience with alcohol in the past, but since you insist, I might as well give it a try."

"Hahaha! Mr. Sandor is indeed a bold one! Just as straightforward as Lady Alleria!"

Falstad laughed heartily in approval. At that moment, Alaric could feel the barrier of unfamiliarity between him and the Wildhammer dwarves slowly dissolving.

—So, all it takes to bond with them is a drink?

With a wry smile, he followed Alleria's example and downed the ale in one go.

Despite being the finest brew of the Wildhammer dwarves, the thick malt aroma, the bitter taste of alcohol, and the faint sourness of imperfect fermentation overwhelmed his mouth and burned down his throat, making him extremely uncomfortable.

Then came the violent coughing.

Although he had managed to drink it all in one gulp, his reaction was that of an amateur, causing the dwarves to burst into laughter.

The Wildhammer dwarves laughed heartily, but they were also quite pleased with his effort. In their eyes, someone who could drink heartily was usually straightforward and trustworthy. 

They saw Alaric as someone worth befriending, and their attitude toward him became noticeably warmer.

Indeed, these alcohol-loving dwarves clearly had their own way of treating people differently.

As the banquet continued, Alaric received far better treatment than when he had first arrived at Aerie Peak. 

The Wildhammer dwarves began to toast him enthusiastically, engaging him in conversation and laughter as if he were one of their own.

However, Alaric himself grew increasingly frustrated with each drink. Even with the aid of magic, he felt as though he was being drowned in alcohol.

—These damned little dwarves, have they never tasted real alcohol before?

Annoyed, Alaric decided to take his revenge.

"You all love drinking, don't you? Fine, I'll let you experience real alcohol and see if you can still be so arrogant after I get you all completely wasted."

With that thought, he decided to unveil his secret weapon—distilled liquor crafted using modern techniques.

Due to the natural fermentation process, alcoholic beverages usually couldn't exceed 10-15% alcohol content, as excessive alcohol would kill the yeast and stop fermentation. 

To create stronger spirits, the fermented liquid needed to be distilled and blended, producing a liquor with a much higher alcohol content.

While distillation wasn't an advanced technique, in all of Azeroth, only the brew-loving Pandaren of far-off Pandaria had mastered it. 

The other races—dwarves, humans, and elves—had only managed to create traditional fermented brews, sometimes enhanced with magical properties.

But Alaric had something different—distilled liquor made from elven fruit wine.

On Earth, this type of distilled wine was known as brandy.

Yes, what he had in hand was a distilled version of elven fruit wine, and since brandy on Earth was essentially distilled grape or fruit wine, he casually borrowed the name for his creation.

Before everyone's eyes, he pulled a massive oak barrel from his enchanted dragonhide pouch and slammed it onto the banquet table, sending plates and cups flying in all directions.

However, no one cared about the mess. Every dwarf's attention—or rather, their noses—were drawn to the massive barrel.

"This... what is this?" Falstad sniffed the air and spoke with yearning, "Such a rich aroma, such pure fruit notes... What... what kind of drink is this?"

At this moment, the mighty king of the Wildhammer dwarves looked like an eager child who had just found a precious treasure. 

His eyes were fixed on the barrel, greedily inhaling the intoxicating scent, and he had to swallow back a mouthful of drool.

Seeing the once-mighty ruler looking so embarrassingly eager, Alaric nodded in satisfaction and answered, "This is a new fruit liquor I've developed, called brandy. 

I've heard that the Wildhammer dwarves have a love for strong drinks. 

While I'm not much of a drinker myself, I do have expertise in alchemy. So, I created this strong liquor as a gift to you."

"Strong liquor? A gift?" Upon hearing these words, the dwarves' eyes lit up. Kurdran, unable to contain himself, asked, "How strong is it?"

"Trust me, this liquor is far stronger than anything you've ever had—stronger than anything you can even imagine." Alaric smiled mischievously. 

Watching from the side, Alleria immediately recognized this expression. She knew Alaric well enough to realize that he was about to pull a prank.

Sure enough, Alaric continued provocatively, "I wonder if the Wildhammer dwarves have the courage to drink something this strong?"

The Wildhammer dwarves were naturally impulsive and could never back down from a challenge—especially when it involved drinking, their favorite pastime.

Kurdran immediately flared up.

"Afraid? Us? Never! There is no drink in this world that a Wildhammer dwarf won't dare to drink!"

With that, he eagerly climbed onto the table, tiptoed, and lifted the lid of the oak barrel. Instantly, the rich and intoxicating aroma of brandy flooded the room.

Even standing on his toes, Kurdran wobbled slightly, nearly losing his balance.

Just from the scent alone, he felt a little intoxicated.

—This is truly good liquor!

His anticipation soared, but he still refused to show weakness.

"Come on, everyone!" he shouted gleefully. "Let's see who can last the longest!"

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