Mushoku Tensei (LN) - Volume SS - Chapter 23

Short Story:

The Swordsman and the Dwarf Have a Drinking Contest

AT PAUL’S FUNERAL, everyone brought something that carried a memory of him to the feast.

The magician Talhand brought a bottle. “The scoundrel never knew his place when he was young,” Talhand said, and began to tell a story from when he and Paul had first formed their party.

“Is it true that all dwarves can hold their drink?” It was after they’d finished a quest and were at a tavern to celebrate that Paul asked the question. He was probably just curious.

“What d’you mean?”

“’Dwarves can hold their drink’ is like…it’s one of those things everyone says, but you don’t drink much, right? Just struck me as odd.”

Talhand didn’t drink much for the simple reason that he was broke. People thought all a magician needed was a staff, but in fact, the occupation was a real money guzzler. He always had to have scrolls and magic crystals at the ready for the branches of magic he didn’t specialize in. And in Talhand’s case, he also needed armor and a hand axe for close combat. He never had any cash to spare.

“Hah. I don’t have the money to waste,” he said.

“Really?” Paul said teasingly. “You sure it’s not because you’re actually a lightweight?”

In fact, Paul’s jibe wasn’t far from the mark. Dwarves loved to drink alcohol the same way that humans needed water to stay alive. But it was true that Talhand didn’t like his drink as much as other dwarves. If he had water and alcohol placed in front of him, he’d choose alcohol, but unlike the others, he didn’t love it so much that he couldn’t go a day without a drink. He was content to go without when he couldn’t afford it.

Despite all that, what he said was, “How about we find out?” It must have been a passing whim.

“Oh yeah?”

“We just finished that quest, so I’ve got money. Best way to see if I’m really a lightweight’s to test me yourself, wouldn’t you say? Oi, master! We need drinks!” Talhand ordered two drinks from the tavern keeper, who immediately set two tankards down on their table with a thud.

“A drinking contest, eh…? I like it.” Paul licked his lips. He was always up for a competition, no matter what it was. Even ones he had no hope of winning.

Elinalise and Geese, who had been having their own conversation off to one side, now looked over.

“What’s this? If you’re having a drinking contest, might I join in too?”

“Ya ain’t got a hope in hell against a dwarf by yourself. I’ll lend ya a hand.”

“Hah. I’ll take any number of you. It won’t change anything.” Talhand drained his first tankard, looking at the other three and thinking he’d have a good laugh at these youngsters after he’d drunk them under the table.

An hour passed.

“Taaaalhand, hey, Talhand you dumb bastard,” Paul said thickly. “Here, how come even though magicians wear robes, you’ve got all that heavy armor on, huh! Bit weird, isn’t it?”

“I imagine the armorer saw a wet-behind-the-ears dwarf and thought, here’s an easy mark!”

“‘This here robe’s made of strong steel plate, perfect for a magician,’ or somethin’? Fwahahahaha!”

Paul, Elinalise, and Geese were all well and truly off their faces. Unlike dwarves, they had no resistance to alcohol, and so it had only taken a mere dozen or so drinks. Talhand, meanwhile, watched them with his usual sullen expression, quietly sipping his drink—

“Bahahaha! Just so! That old armorer was so senile, when I said I wanted a robe he brought out a full suit of armor! Then on top of all that, he said he’d throw in an axe!”

No such luck. Talhand was as red in the face as the others, ­guffawing as he drank heartily from a keg cradled under one arm. He was completely sloshed.

“An axe!” Elinalise crowed. “That shopkeeper judged you entirely by your looks, didn’t he!”

“But I felt so bad that I bought it all, and what do you know, it came in handy! And I’ve been wearing armor ever since.”

“Fwahaha! So the old armorer was right after all, eh!”

That day, Talhand laughed and drank a great deal. He kept them all entertained with lies and made-up stories he rarely told, and drank until he fell over. It was as though there had never been any drinking contest. Drink had never tasted so good before.

“It was a puzzle to me back then. Why’d it taste that good? How come getting drunk felt so good? I mean, we were drinking watered-down, cheap stuff.” 

As he thought back on that night, Talhand raised the bottle he had brought to his mouth and took a deep swig. “Thinking about it now, the answer’s simple. It’s not the quality of the drink that makes for a good night of drinking. It’s who you drink with,” He grinned around at all of them, his face bright red.