Aris carefully sat down at the table.
Ironfoot took out another cup and poured her some dwarven liquor.
Aris wrapped both hands around the cup and slowly smelled its aroma.
“Uh…… It smells really strong.”
“Miss! Don’t tell me you’re scared?”
“N-no.”
It seemed Ironfoot had not noticed that Aris was a ghost.
The only ones here who knew Aris’s true identity were Irit and me.
Perhaps a little provoked by Ironfoot’s words, Aris immediately took a sip of the liquor.
For a moment, she said nothing.
“Well, miss? How is it?”
“……It’s really unique. But it’s good? It has this scent, like the smell of earth after rain……”
“Exactly! That’s the liquor from our Amberholt Brewery!”
Ironfoot raised his own cup with a satisfied look.
Irit glanced at Aris once, then whispered in a voice only I could hear.
“Is she going to be all right? She’s not an ordinary human.”
“It’s interesting. I’m curious too. Whether a ghost can drink alcohol, I mean.”
“You’ve always been like this……”
Irit narrowed her eyes at me and let out a deep sigh.
* * *
At first, nothing seemed particularly strange.
Aris sipped little by little, laughing as she listened to the three of us talk,
and occasionally chiming in with a word or two.
But it started after her third cup.
Aris set down her cup and stared intently at Ironfoot.
“Excuse me. Mr. Ironfoot.”
“Hm? What is it, miss?”
“What did you mean when you said~ it’d be nice if my body was wet toooo?”
“Did I say something like that?!”
“You did. You asked why my hair was wet~ and said if I was going to be wet, my body should be wet too~!”
Ironfoot fiddled with his beard.
“Ahem…… That was a compliment.”
“Honestly, you said it with dirty thoughts, didn’t you?”
“To a dwarf, it’s a compliment.”
“But I’m not a dwarf.”
Ironfoot was momentarily at a loss for words.
I looked at Aris.
Her eyes had gone a little unfocused.
Her tone was clear, but there was no restraint in what she said.
Irit gave me a look and said,
“She seems drunk, doesn’t she?”
At those words, Aris looked at Irit this time.
“Irit unniiiii~”
“What? Unni? Huh?”
“Irit unni, are you alooooone~?”
Irit looked bewildered.
Aris’s words were gradually beginning to drag out,
and her pronunciation was starting to slur.
“Where did that suddenly come from……”
“I’m asking if Irit unni has anyone she’s seeinggggg~!”
“……Not really?”
“I see…… Ah! I knowww!”
Aris nodded as she looked at Irit,
then slowly turned her gaze toward Ironfoot.
And then she looked back at Irit.
Aris’s gaze went back and forth between the two of them.
Noticing this, Irit furrowed her brow and said,
“Aris……”
“Yes~”
“Why are you looking back and forth between that dwarf and me?”
Then Aris said with a serious face,
“I think Ms. Irit and Mr. Ironfoot would make a good match.”
The hall fell silent for a moment.
“……”
Irit looked at me and shouted.
“Klaus! Do something. She’s gotten weird after drinking!”
“I haven’t gotten weirdddd~ You really do match well togetherrrr~”
Aris giggled and patted Irit’s arm.
Beside her, Ironfoot stroked his beard and said slyly,
“Oh, the young lady has a good eye. An elf, huh… If I were to take her on, I could have her completely swooning!”
“You.”
Irit called to Ironfoot coldly.
“Hm? What is it?”
“If you agree with her one more time, I won’t let it slide.”
“It was a joke, a joke~”
“I’m serious.”
Irit once again placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.
Ironfoot shrugged and lifted his cup, downing his drink.
Thinking it was about time to sort out the situation,
I sighed and rose from my seat.
* * *
“Uweeeh~ Managerrrr~ I’m sad~ so sad~ Please make me something tastyyyy……”
Aris mumbled in a tiny voice as she tried to get up from her chair.
“Huhhh~ That’s strangeee~”
But she staggered and ended up sprawled over an empty table.
I had only been curious whether Aris, an embodied ghost, could get drunk,
but she got drunk far more ordinarily than I expected, so I regretted it a little.
At this point, all I’d done was create one more troublesome person……
“I’ll take her.”
I picked up the staggering Aris in my arms.
Even for me, who wasn’t especially strong, she was incredibly light.
I couldn’t tell if she was lighter because she was a ghost, or if she had always been this light.
“Managerrrr~”
“What.”
For the moment, I was climbing the stairs with the intention of tossing her into the second-floor bedroom,
when Aris opened her eyes half-lidded and asked me,
“Drink with me again next timeee.”
“No.”
“Ah, whyyy~”
“Once was enough.”
Aris tried to wave her arms in protest, but soon even that movement turned limp.
With her eyes closed, she mumbled nonsense under her breath,
but I ignored it and continued up the stairs.
* * *
After roughly tossing the dead-drunk Aris into my bedroom and coming back down to the hall,
the drinking session seemed to be drawing to a close.
“Gahahaha! Don’t take it so badly. If I’m choosing a partner, I prefer dwarves too.”
“Ha…… Somehow, no matter which way you say it, it feels offensive.”
“Irit, was it? Of course, you’re pretty too, but slender types aren’t to my taste.”
“Shall we stop talking about this? The alcohol was good. It’s about time I left, too.”
Were they still talking about that……
Those two, oddly enough, felt both out of sync and strangely in tune.
Maybe what Aris said wasn’t completely absurd after all……
But if I said that out loud, Irit really did seem like she’d get angry,
so I swallowed the thought firmly down.
“Anyway, I’ll come again next time. Klaus.”
The first to rise from her seat was Irit.
“Sure. Take care.”
“Don’t ever let Aris drink again.”
“I’m thinking the same thing.”
“Then I’ll be going first. You take care too. Though I doubt we’ll meet again.”
Irit gave a light farewell to me and Ironfoot, then left the restaurant.
“She didn’t seem to understand jokes, but she was a strangely amusing elf lady. I should be off soon too.”
Ironfoot also stood up.
Perhaps because he had drunk quite a lot, the tip of his nose was bright red.
“I’ll leave the rest of the liquor here. If I get the chance next time, I’ll bring something new.”
Ironfoot smacked my back once with his thick hand.
Then he looked at me, gave me a thumbs-up, burst into laughter, and left the restaurant.
* * *
The hall grew quiet again.
My eyes fell on Ironfoot’s bottle of liquor sitting on the table.
Inside the bottle, the amber-colored liquor remained pooled along the bottom.
I brought a fresh cup and slowly poured it.
Clink.
In the quiet hall, the sound of liquor touching the cup rang out softly.
The aroma rose again.
It felt richer than when I had first smelled it.
Was it because I had already tasted it,
or because the atmosphere was different from when the three of us had been drinking together?
I took a sip.
Slowly, this time.
There was no doubt about it—this was the first time I had tasted liquor like this.
It was unfamiliar, yet it was the kind of liquor that would keep coming to mind.
So this was thirty-year-aged liquor.
Then what would liquor aged for thirteen hundred years taste like?
What kind of place was the brewery that produced such liquor?
An ancient dwarven brewery deep underground, maintaining a constant temperature and humidity.
Liquors that had endured in that place without spoiling for hundreds, even over a thousand years.
It had been unexpected for dwarves to emerge from the rocky mountain near the restaurant.
But now, I even found myself thinking that perhaps it had been some sort of fate, meant to lead me to this liquor.
A chef must always pursue new flavors, higher levels of taste.
Not merely making food and serving it,
but pondering how to create a better recipe depending on the situation, even when making the same dish.
I was a chef, and also a culinary researcher.
To someone like me, the liquor Ironfoot had brought was a fresh shock.
This was not a liquor I could be satisfied with simply serving as an accompaniment.
From the beginning to the end of a dish,
where and how should it be used for its true value to be revealed?
Naturally, all sorts of images began forming in my mind.
Adding a single drop to a rich broth to deepen its flavor.
Using it to marinate strongly scented wild game and enhance its aroma.
Combining it with various foods that had gone through decades of aging,
to witness the very pinnacle of aged cuisine.
Just thinking about it led to one fascinating experiment after another.
But no matter which direction I pursued, one thing was clear.
If I wanted to properly understand this liquor,
I had to go see the brewery myself and experience it firsthand.
When Ironfoot came next time,
I intended to bring it up first.
I wanted to see for myself that Amberholt Brewery he was so proud of.
And while I was at it, it would be nice to see the great dwarven city said to exist beneath the rocky mountain.
In truth, while there were many cases of other races coming to live in human cities,
the reverse was exceedingly rare.
Humans tended to accept other races as members of society relatively easily,
whereas the societies of other races were often not like that.
Likewise, there was no problem with dwarves mingling with humans on the surface,
but for me, a human, to enter the city where dwarves lived would be a rather different matter.
Still, with that curious and fearless foreman, Ironfoot,
perhaps he might readily guide me there.
Well, in the end, I’d just have to coax him with food somehow.
* * *