146 Drunk...

The heavy snowfall was hardly considered harsh weather by the beastmen who had lived on this land for generations. Industrious as always, they rose early every morning to clear the snow, tidy up the snow-covered sheds, and begin another day of toil. In fact, winter was the busiest season for these beastmen. High up on the plateau, the growth cycle of plants was fascinating; most grew rapidly through the harsh cold of the multiple seasons, blooming, bearing fruit, and then withering into dormancy just before the spring wind arrived. They rested for a season and grew for a season, repeating the cycle until the next winter snows descended.

Iqi Town was a thoroughly ordinary small town on the plateau. Across the entire Beastman Alliance, there were countless settlements bearing the exact same name. Yet, despite its ordinariness, this small town welcomed a multitude of outsiders every winter. The townsfolk held starkly contrasting attitudes toward these transient visitors who only appeared during the cold months: while some welcomed them with open arms, others loathed them to the core. The reason was quite simple—to the former, these outsiders were a source of wealth, but to the latter, they were potential bringers of property loss.

At the root of all this lay the plateau's specialty: Nightmare Grass.

Of course, the most famous specialty of this plateau was the Nightmare Flower, but those flowers grew in the lands of ultimate peril, places ordinary people dared not approach. Consequently, everyone consciously or unconsciously ignored the existence of the Nightmare Flower.

Theresa and her companions arrived in Iqi Town precisely during such a snowy season. They reached the town right at lunchtime. As soon as they stepped foot within its borders, they were greeted by a mingling of rich aromas—the scent of food, the fragrance of potent liquor, and the sharp tang of various spices blended together into a dizzying concoction.

"Hey, we've hit the lunchtime hour. Let me treat you to the most authentic clay-pot stewed meat," Habata said, his demeanor suddenly turning cheerful as he inhaled the familiar scents, smiling warmly at Theresa and Flora.

Seeing this, Theresa blinked in mild surprise, failing to react for a moment. Flora, however, was already accustomed to this side of him. Clapping her hands, she laughed, "That would be wonderful! It's been ages since I last had authentic clay-pot stewed meat—Habata, our lunch is entirely in your hands then!"

Having delegated the responsibility of lunch, Flora turned back to tell Theresa, "The clay-pot stewed meat made by beastmen and half-beastmen is exceptionally famous. It tastes utterly divine. However, whether due to the local water and soil or something else, once you take it away from this land, clay-pot stewed meat made anywhere else just lacks that wonderful flavor. You'll definitely fall in love with it once you try it!"

Raising a brow in mild surprise, Theresa decided to follow the local custom and let Habata take the lead.

Habata guided the two women through the winding streets of the town, navigating the paths with absolute familiarity, as if he knew the place inside out. Curious, Theresa gently tugged at Flora's sleeve and asked, "Does Habata know this place very well?"

"It's actually quite an interesting story," Flora explained with a chuckle. "Who knows from which era the beastmen inherited this custom, but towns built within the same region and historical period all share a remarkably similar layout. Even though Habata has never been to Iqi before, he has visited other towns built during the same era. By drawing parallels, his general sense of direction won't be wrong—at least he won't end up wandering into a dead end and unable to get out."

Hearing this, Theresa raised her eyebrows slightly, momentarily unsure whether to praise the logic or find it amusing, as she still pondered whether such an arrangement was a matter of convenience or sheer laziness...

While she was lost in this nonsensical train of thought, Habata, who was leading the way, suddenly halted and announced, "We've arrived!"

Reflexively, Theresa looked up to see Habata standing before a small-signed tavern, taking a deep, determined breath with an utterly intoxicated expression.

Flora followed suit, taking a deep breath of her own before letting out a long, appreciative sigh. "Mmm, this smells wonderful. Habata, when it comes to anything related to stewed meat, you half-beastmen truly have noses sharper than magical beasts."

To a beastman or half-beastman, such a comparison was a heartfelt compliment, and Habata beamed with a grin that was both naive and endearing.

Pushing open the tightly closed heavy door, a dense wave of food aromas mixed with boisterous human voices rushed outward. The dim lighting inside made Theresa squint and adjust for a long while before she could finally make out the lively scene within: the nearly two-hundred-square-meter room was packed with people—all sorts of people, including beastmen, half-beastmen, humans, dwarves, and half-elves... The only ones missing were the pure-blooded elves, who favored vegetarianism, possessed obsessive cleanliness, and abhorred such chaotic environments.

A scene like this could hardly be described merely as "lively." Habata led Theresa and Flora deeper into the room, fiercely "forging a path" through the crowded mob, and managed to carve out a single empty table from the already overflowing establishment!

Throughout the entire process, Theresa witnessed a completely different side of Habata—facing these unfamiliar beastmen and half-beastmen, Habata showed none of the silence he usually displayed in Valienda. Instead, he was exceptionally articulate, throwing his arms around the shoulders of these robust beastmen and half-beastmen who were clearly several generations older than him, loudly exchanging pleasantries and laughter. A steady stream of fluent beastman language rolled off his tongue, and within no time, they all looked like lifelong buddies...

Noticing Theresa's dumbfounded expression, Flora chuckled and leaned close to her ear. "I told you so. Habata is a total social chameleon. The moment he steps outside the Alliance, he instantly turns back into a mute gourd."

Theresa let out a soft sigh of wonder, utterly at a loss for how to process this behavior of his...

No sooner had Theresa and Flora seated themselves at the precious single table than a waiter immediately brought over the plateau's famous green beer. The heavy, tall solid-wood mugs were filled to the brim, with thick white foam spilling over the rims—seeing this, Theresa felt a twitch of exasperation... Just a mug of beer this large was enough to fill a person up; where on earth would anyone find room for stewed meat?

Nevertheless, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. She dutifully lifted the heavy beer mug and took a small, tentative sip. The moment the green beer touched her tongue, a slight tingling sensation bloomed on her taste buds, followed by a sliver of icy serpent sliding down her lips and tongue, plunging straight into her vitals. In a single instant, her entire body froze from the inside out, causing her to shiver involuntarily. Miraculously, right after the shiver came a wave of fire—a burning sensation spreading upward from her abdomen to her head and outward to her limbs, rapidly infusing her entire body with a profound warmth. For a moment, it felt as though she were soaking in a hot spring, her whole being warm and utterly relaxed.

The wonderful sensation faded quickly, prompting Theresa to take another sip. Then another sip. And yet another... By the time she realized it, the twenty-centimeter-tall beer mug had actually hit rock bottom—yet she hadn't felt like she had drunk all that much...

"Hiccup..." A long, drawn-out hiccup echoed, startling Theresa. Glancing to her left and right, she found herself laughing helplessly as she spotted two little spirit foxes lying flat on their backs on the tabletop, their four paws curled against their sides, exposing their plump, white bellies in an exceptionally adorable display—it turned out that these two little critters had been competing with her for the liquor and had gulped down the better part of the green beer.

"The nectar of the gods, this is plateau green beer." Flora suddenly raised her beer mug slightly higher, reciting the phrase in the beastman language with a poetic flair. This instantly drew proud and enthusiastic cheers from the surrounding beastmen and half-beastmen. From somewhere unknown, a song spontaneously erupted, rapidly sweeping across the entire room. The archaic and desolate melody was accompanied only by the rhythmic clinking of wooden mugs, yet far from sounding monotonous, it was instead brimming with an untamed, wild, and natural charm.

Amidst this melody, Habata returned carrying a large earthenware jar, setting it down heavily upon the table. The intense aroma instantly enveloped everyone's senses, filling their minds and vision entirely with that bubbling, simmering pot of stewed meat.

***

The beastmen's liquor was filled with the extreme stimulation of ice and fire; the beastmen's songs were brimming with the distant, wild, and natural imagery; and the beastmen's cuisine possessed a unique, chaotic yet wondrously exquisite charm. Over the course of a mere single meal, Theresa had experienced such a rich tapestry of beastman culture that she was left with a pleasant, tipsy intoxication where one was drunk not on wine, but on the atmosphere itself.

This tipsy sensation lingered all the way until the three of them found lodgings and began discussing their subsequent itinerary—

"...Tess... sa... Theresa, what are you daydreaming about?" Flora gave Theresa a harsh shake, finally jolting her back to reality. Even upon waking, her gaze retained a hazy, lingering blur, leaving both Flora and Habata looking rather surprised.

"Eh? What's wrong with you?" Flora cupped Theresa's face, turning it from side to side in utter puzzlement.

Theresa sluggishly shifted her gaze, tracking Flora's movements.

Habata watched from the side, hesitating slightly before offering, "Could she... possibly be drunk?"

"Drunk? How is that possible? Theresa's alcohol tolerance is fantastic. Back in Valienda, she once almost drank me under the table. How could a little bit of green beer possibly intoxicate her?" Flora refused to believe it.

Habata, however, was quite knowledgeable about beastman cuisine and dietary quirks. He rubbed his cropped hair and said with a hint of uncertainty, "There's a certain component in green beer that, when combined with a specific spice in the clay-pot stewed meat, creates an alcohol-like compound. It's usually harmless for most people, but if someone is exceptionally sensitive to this compound, the possibility of getting drunk isn't entirely ruled out... I've only ever heard people talk about it, though; I've never actually seen anyone get drunk from it before."

"Ah? You've got to be kidding me?" Flora's eyes widened in astonishment. She turned back around, stretched out her hand, waved five fingers in front of Theresa's face, and asked, "Theresa, do you know what this is?"

Theresa stared hard, her eyes unblinking, focusing intently for a long, long while. Finally, she tilted her head, puffed out her cheeks, blinked repeatedly, and replied in an adorable tone, "Paws?"

A heavy silence fell over the group—

"Aah, this is just too cute~~~~" Flora pulled Theresa into her arms, nuzzling her head back and forth while squealing in excitement, completely thrilled. "I never expected Theresa to be this cute when she's drunk~~~~~"

Leaning comfortably against Flora's chest, Theresa gave a gentle rub, then let out a silly chuckle.

Releasing Theresa, Flora continued to tease her, "Come on, Theresa, do you still recognize who I am?"

Instead of answering, Theresa reached out, grabbed the finger Flora was pointing at her, pulled it toward her own mouth, opened wide, and took a little "chomp," followed by a gentle grinding of her teeth...

Flora broke out in a drop of cold sweat, while Habata covered his eyes in speechless defeat.

After a brief commotion, until Theresa finally succumbed to the alcohol's potency and drifted off into a sound sleep, a profoundly reluctant Flora was dragged away by Habata, finally restoring absolute peace and quiet to Theresa. (To be continued)