Chapter 113
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Chapter 113: The Otherworld Actually Has a Drinking Culture
“Lolth—Linda—Cheers!”
Sitting at a long table in the crowded tavern, Lolth’s blank expression betrayed her internal dismay. Shelldor, with her strong grip, was pulling on Lolth’s left arm and shoulder, urging her to lift the massive oak wine cup in her hand.
The cup, oversized enough to dwarf her head, clinked loudly against Shelldor’s identical vessel. The drink inside—a potent mixture of abyssal mineral powder and magical plant extracts—splashed out, spilling onto the table.
Lolth couldn’t help but wonder: were these “wine cups” actually just barrels with handles slapped on?
Using all her physical strength, she barely managed to lift her own cup.
Beside her sat Shelldor, the legionnaire leader of the Second Legion, known as the “Flame Sovereign” and one of the seven great generals of the Demon Army.
In her human form, Shelldor had one arm casually draped around Lolth’s shoulder, like an experienced drinker coaxing her companion to take another round.
Her fiery red hair framed a face flushed from alcohol, and her dragon wings twitched behind her. With her red face and carefree demeanor, Shelldor truly embodied the essence of an “Abyssal Red Dragon.”
Shelldor raised her cup high, downing the entire drink in one impressive gulp. Then, slamming the empty cup onto the table, she let out a satisfied sigh.
“Hoo—ah—!”
Her free hand shook Lolth’s shoulder enthusiastically as she declared, “Lolth, Linda—Your Highness, you’re a true hero of the Second Legion! From the West Front to Palgauro City, even back in Demon King Castle and the Abyss—you’ve always looked out for us. This toast is for you!”
As Shelldor’s words rang out, the surrounding demon dragons cheered in agreement.
“Yes—toast to Lord Lolth!”
The sound of clinking barrel-sized cups filled the air, accompanied by the unmistakable “glug-glug” of heavy drinking and the occasional burp. Some dragons, unable to contain their excitement, exhaled soft bursts of dragon breath that flickered like fireflies in the dim light.
Meanwhile, across the table, Old Harper, an ordinary human among demons, was already fast asleep. After a single drink, the frail old man had succumbed to his limits, missing his chance to tell any of his infamous tales.
For Lolth, the entire scene felt like a nightmare—a hellish painting brought to life.
At first, the celebration seemed harmless enough.
Shelldor, clearly considerate of Lolth’s tastes, had ensured the feast began with delicious magical beast sashimi and intricate dishes crafted by chefs from Lauren and Seychelles.
However, once the food gave way to the “drinking and revelry” phase, Lolth realized she had been lured into a trap.
When the massive wine cups arrived, everything spiraled out of control.
Shelldor had reassured her with a casual, “Just a little drink to lift our spirits.”
But Lolth soon discovered that these demon dragons had no concept of moderation. Their idea of “casual drinking” was as far-fetched as a demon merchant offering a “genuine bargain.”
By the time she realized what was happening, it was too late. Shelldor and her companions were completely drunk.
Lolth found herself holding an enormous wine cup filled to the brim, unsure of when or how it had been handed to her.
Shelldor, having emptied her own cup, turned to Lolth with wide, expectant eyes.
“Lolthlinda! Why aren’t you drinking?”
The “Flame Sovereign,” who had once bested countless foes in the Abyss, now looked like a naïve young girl, tilting her head as she waited for Lolth’s response.
The other demon dragons joined in, their curious gazes fixed on Lolth and the untouched cup in her hand.
In such an atmosphere, Lolth knew she couldn’t refuse.
But drinking wasn’t an option either.
Though Shelldor’s drunken antics seemed chaotic, Lolth knew that if she followed suit, the outcome would be catastrophic. The combined strength of the demon dragons, amplified by alcohol, could easily result in half of them being too inebriated to leave the tavern unscathed.
To ensure their safety, she had to find another way.
“I can’t drink, but I can pretend to.”
Fortunately, as a skilled succubus and master of magic, Lolth had a plan.
She would use spatial magic to secretly dispose of the drink before it touched her lips.
However, there was one complication: demon dragons were notoriously sensitive to magical fluctuations.
In normal circumstances, Lolth was confident her spellcasting would go unnoticed. But at a drinking table, this group’s awareness of any “escape attempts” would be heightened tenfold.
To make matters worse, Shelldor’s arm was draped around her, watching her every move.
Still, Lolth refused to back down.
“Stay calm. It’s a simple spell. All I need is the right timing.”
With that thought, she raised her cup high.
“Then I’ll drink too!”
Delivering the line with practiced confidence, Lolth leaned back slightly, lifting the enormous cup toward her lips. Tilting it just enough to obscure its contents from view, she activated her magic.
The strong liquor disappeared, transported safely elsewhere before it could touch her.
The room fell silent as the demon dragons watched intently.
Moments later, Lolth lowered her now-empty cup and wiped her lips for effect.
The silence shattered.
“Good!”
The demon dragons erupted in cheers. Even Shelldor tossed her cup aside, wrapping both arms around Lolth in a jubilant hug.
“Lolthlinda, you’re amazing!” Shelldor’s dark golden eyes sparkled as she laughed.
Lolth sighed in relief.
It’s finally over…
But before she could fully relax, Shelldor’s voice rang out again, brimming with excitement.
“Come on, Lolth, let’s go outside—”
Lolth blinked, hope flickering briefly.
Wait, is she calling it a night?
Her hopes were dashed as Shelldor continued, “—and find an open space to keep drinking together!”
