So I'm a Snake, Who Cares?

Chapter 114: Successful Secret Infiltration (1)

Beer is broadly divided into two types:

'Lager' and 'Ale'.

To distinguish them in detail, lager uses bottom-fermenting yeast that settles at the bottom of the beer barrel, while ale uses top-fermenting yeast that floats to the surface, and so on.

However, there's an even simpler way to distinguish them:

If the beer is clear, savory, and refreshing, it's a lager. If it has a rich aroma, is cloudy, and has a heavy mouthfeel, it's an ale.

The oak barrel that Roil brought, the one I had infiltrated, contained ale.

True to ale's characteristics, the aroma is incredible.

'Ah...'

A floral-like aroma filled my nostrils.

'I think I might get a little drunk...'

I was originally weak with alcohol.

It seems my constitution hasn't changed even after becoming a snake.

Fortunately, the beer's alcohol content is low. If it had been wine, I might have gotten drunk just from the smell.

"Endure it quietly."

Pelerian was unusually proactive.

Although I had cleaned myself thoroughly, I pay my respects to the barrel of ale that has become undrinkable.

It was unavoidable for infiltrating the mine.

It was noisy outside, perhaps the dwarves had come out.

Alright, let's just endure here until we infiltrate.

It should be fine as long as I don't drink it.

There was space to breathe inside the oak barrel, and they even made a small air hole, so it should be okay.

That's when it happened.

The oak barrel I was in suddenly tilted.

Glug glug glug

My head was submerged in beer.

I quickly regained my balance, but I had already swallowed a lot of beer.

"Hic."

At that moment, I learned for the first time that snakes can hiccup.

'Oh... oh... this is nice.'

My stomach is full from all the beer I drank.

Somehow, I feel good and a bit tipsy.

I'm drunk. I'm getting drunk!

'Hmm, I'm a bit drunk...'

"Hey, how much did you drink to get drunk already!"

I haven't had alcohol since becoming a snake.

But from my past life experience, I knew well what happens to me when I drink.

"Damn, this is tough."

"Just roll it until we load it onto the cart."

The dwarf rolled the oak barrel.

I, inside it, rolled along.

The world spins round and round.

I shouldn't get drunk.

'When I get drunk...'

I become useless...!

==

[On the essential and mysterious characteristics of the dwarf race hidden behind 'stubborn artisan'.]

To us humans, dwarves are known as 'stubborn artisans' or 'delicate blacksmiths'.

But thinking of dwarves as just a blacksmith race is too simplistic.

First of all, dwarves are divided into surface dwarves and underground dwarves.

Surface dwarves are more masters of architecture than blacksmiths, and most of the great architectural works, including the Sun Palace, are the handiwork of surface dwarves.

Thanks to their cheerful nature, they get along well even with the noble forest fairies.

Underground dwarves, on the other hand, are different.

They mainly live in mines, and how many people have entered their cities that keep digging deeper into the ground?

Those who have only met surface dwarves are surprised when they see underground dwarves.

While their small stature and solid muscles are the same, their skin is pale white.

And with their deeply sunken eye sockets and extremely bushy beards, they can even look frightening.

They are like termites that finally gnaw at the roots of mountains after digging into the ground for a long time.

These are the ones who spend their entire lives pioneering mines and making the underground as complex as a dungeon.

These underground dwarves are the real blacksmiths.

Although they rarely come to the surface, the weapons and armor they make often spread their fame across the entire continent.

But I can say with certainty that dwarves are not originally designed to live underground.

Their lifespan in the harsh underground, where they obsess over the fullness of their beards and such, is significantly shorter than that of surface dwarves.

Most of them die before reaching 200 years old.

Severe lung diseases, being crushed by collapsing mines, being bitten by monsters that emerge from underground - their causes of death are diverse.

But among these, there's one symptom that particularly fascinates researchers.

It's a mental illness called fire enchantment, or fire enchantment syndrome.

Even the dwarf with the strongest willpower cannot escape death once fire enchantment begins.

Dwarves enchanted by fire eventually become like a moth...

==

Contrary to human misconception,

Underground dwarves don't always live gloomily.

Especially with good quality beer, dwarves can be happier than anyone else in the world.

"Cheers!"

Wooden beer mugs collided in the air as if they would break.

White beer foam splattered everywhere.

The dwarves of the Red Anvil Mine gulped down pints of ale.

None of the five dwarves sitting around the table put down their beer mugs.

They downed the beer in one shot as if they had made a promise.

"Hah!"

"Burrrp!"

They belched out what sounded like a dragon's breath.

Raucous laughter erupted.

The Red Anvil Mine is not just a simple mine.

As time passed, its scale became enormous, and now it could be called a city.

The top level housed the dwarves' residences and various amenities.

The dwarves who had been mining ore all day on the lower levels come up to the top level to relieve their fatigue with a mug of beer.

They pour beer into their stomachs even before wiping off the black soot on their faces.

Thanks to their uniquely great drinking capacity, the amount of beer dwarves consume in a day is enormous.

"I thought I was going to die of hunger."

"Shall we ask them to roast a whole pig?"

"Add some ham too!"

How can dwarves live in this deep mine?

It's surprising considering that the trade volume between this Red Anvil Mine and humans isn't that large.

The dwarves of Red Anvil were somewhat self-sufficient.

Thick ham landed on their plates.

Along with fermented sauerkraut and mashed potatoes.

The dwarf stabbed the ham with a fork and put it in his mouth without even cutting it.

The ham they were chewing on was made from 'pig', and that 'pig' was actually a different breed from the pigs on the surface.

To be precise, it was a monster.

Mysteriously, they were raising Steel Hogs that feed on iron ore inside the mine.

The same goes for potatoes and cabbage.

These were unique plant varieties that grow underground and were the staple food of the dwarves here.

Pig, potato, white cabbage.

These were all the dwarves had in their diet, with nothing green in sight.

But the dwarves didn't mind.

With beer, even terrible food becomes delicious.

They drank three mugs in an instant.

That should have been enough to fill their stomachs, but today the dwarves seemed particularly excited.

"Clink the mugs and ho-!"

They don't stop toasting.

"Swing the hammer and ho! Dig the ground and mine the ore, ho!"

They sang with their faces red from heavy drinking.

"Until we die enchanted by the red fire deep in the mine, ho!"

The old dwarf running the pub clicked his tongue as he watched the young miners.

"Boss! More beer here!"

"No, just give us the whole oak barrel!"

That seemed easier.

The old man didn't bother saying the meaningless words 'drink moderately' that they wouldn't listen to anyway.

The owner brought out a newly arrived oak barrel.

As it got closer, the smell of alcohol became more intense.

The dwarves' eyes were already unfocused.

"Just don't vomit..."

"We won't~! We won't."

"Tsk tsk."

The owner just left the oak barrel next to them and left.

Originally, they should have opened the lid to drink, but the dwarf used a more crude method.

He took out a hammer and swung it like lightning.

Bang!

A hole was punched in the top of the oak barrel.

Even so, not much wood debris fell.