It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Agaro told me he'd cover me, and dragged me to a tavern in town.
The place was called the Cider Hall, and its specialty was cider.
Cider was apple wine.
In my past life's memories, I'd had a little of it now and then.
The most popular drink around here, though, was ale.
That was partly because the owner had a Relic that could freeze things, so ice-cold ale was all the rage.
I came here from time to myself, too.
My target wasn't the drinks, though—it was the set meals. Rice existed in this world, too.
But it wasn't so much Japanese rice as it was long-grain and dry, closer to Thai rice.
Even so, rice was rice, and I was grateful for it. Incidentally, their butter rice was good.
This continent was fertile land.
Milk, butter, cheese, salt, pepper, sugar—all abundant and affordable for common folk.
They had spices, too, and things similar to Tabasco or la-yu chili oil.
There was meat, fish, rice, wheat, soy sauce, and even fish sauce.
But miso? I still hadn't seen any.
Even though it was daytime, the tavern was packed to the walls with people, as noisy as ever.
Almost all of them were delvers.
"Oooh, this is the stuff. Nothing beats it ice-cold!"
In high spirits, Agaro drained an enormous mug of ice-cold ale in one go.
That's his third mug. He sure can put it away.
"……"
"What are you doing, Wof? Here, eat. Don't be shy."
"…Y-yes."
In front of me, the round table was practically buried under meat, meat, and more meat dishes.
And ale.
I mean, I'll eat, but the quantities are a bit much.
Agaro had done nothing but drink since we sat down.
"Hey, sweetheart. Another round!"
"Y-yes. Coming right up."
"You're still drinking?"
"Damn right. A man drinks as much as he can. That's what makes him a man."
"Good grief…"
I muttered under my breath while chewing on a sausage.
It was good.
"Hey, hey. What's this? Agaro, you bastard. If you were gonna come back, the least you could do is send a letter."
"Yo. Burns."
The one who brought the ale was the innkeeper, Burns.
A dwarf, he thumped an oversized mug down onto the table with a heavy clunk.
"Mr. Burns. Do you know this man?"
"Wof. You don't know him? I figured you did, which is why I thought you were tagging along."
"What do you mean?"
"This guy — Agaro is—"
Just then, the door to Cider Hall burst open with a bang.
Almost everyone's gaze snapped toward the source of the noise.
Agaro paid it no mind and kept gulping down his ale.
The man really does drink like it's the best thing in the world.
Standing near the door was Arifa.
She must have been the one who threw the door open so forcefully.
She looked around, scanning the room, and spotted us.
Then she walked over and planted herself behind Agaro.
"Oh? What's up, Wof. Eat up, eat up."
"No, behind you—"
"Huh? Behind me…? …Guh!"
Agaro froze mid-turn.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"…H-hiya, sis."
"SIS!?"
The word burst out of me involuntarily.
Arifa noticed me.
"Oh, if it isn't Wof. What are you doing with my deadweight little brother?"
"Huh, no way. Siblings?"
Now that she mentioned it, he was red-haired and a Fawn, but no — you wouldn't tell just from that.
I'd never met another Fawn, so I'd assumed red hair was the default.
"Wait. You know my sis?"
"She's one of our regulars."
"Whoa, that's pretty great."
"Great?"
"Being a regular of my sis is an honor, y'know."
"That's all well and good, but you — if you're gonna come back, at least send a letter."
"Burns said the same thing to me."
"People normally do send them. Letters, I mean."
Arifa took the empty seat at our table.
"Burns. Two extra-large ales for me too."
"Sure thing. And keep the door quiet, will ya?"
"Sorry about that. If it's broken, my deadweight little brother here will cover it."
"Hey, sis!"
"And another thing — what's with this? Nothing but meat dishes."
Arifa looked over the food on the table and let out a sigh.
Agaro drank his ale.
"I wanted to stuff Wof's face with food, is all."
"...That's for my sake?"
I'd assumed it was just drinking snacks.
"You haven't been eating much meat, have you?"
"Well, uh..."
"He's not the kid he used to be. This one's doing just fine for himself."
"Oh, is that so. Well, if he's your regular, then I guess."
"But I'm happy you said it was for my sake."
I pretty much figured it out. Agaro must have experienced what it was like to go hungry, unable to eat.
So he did this for me. Agaro drained his ale.
"Wof. Eat as much as you can."
"Okay. Can I order that butter rice?"
"Sure. Don't hold back."
"Wof. Order as much of whatever you like. This idiot's got money, believe it or not."
"Really?"
"Yep. I mean, this hopeless little brother here is a Second-Rank delver. They even call him the 'Doom Sword,' you know."
"W-Wait... Second-Rank...!?"
And not only that — I'd actually heard of the Doom Sword.
In the deepest floor of a dungeon far to the north.
A dragon that had been lurking at the very bottom, serving as the dungeon lord — he took it down all by himself.
That was the Dragon Slayer, the "Doom Sword."
With that feat, he'd become a Second-Rank delver, or so the story went.
"That 'Doom Sword' nickname. It's embarrassing, you know."
"So you. What are you doing back here?"
Arifa picked up the extra-large mug of ale she'd ordered and asked.
"Ah? Anomaly subjugation. The earthquakes kept coming and Torquetam's Third-Rank got taken out too, so even I couldn't just ignore it anymore. So a direct commission came to me — a nearby Second-Rank. Annoying, but I've got to do it."
"Now that you mention it, Torquetam was investigating the dungeon, wasn't he."
An anomaly, huh.
Sure enough, this was the second time with the earthquakes.
Earthquakes in a dungeon were supposedly a rare phenomenon.
Having two in just a few months was abnormal.
"An anomaly?"
"Yeah. Anomalies are usually caused by monsters."
"Earthquakes are caused by monsters?"
"The earthquakes are probably from a Relic. Monsters use Relics, as I'm sure you know. Bronze ones won't do it. Silver isn't much of a problem, but gold and gemstone ones are a real threat."
"Earthquakes from a gold-rank or gemstone-rank monster...?"
"Most likely."
"Well, that's impressive coming from the guy who beat an upper gold-rank dragon."
"Quit ribbing me, sis."
Arifa drained her extra-large mug.
Wait, that's your second mug? You're drinking way too fast!
"Oh, it's empty already. Hey! Miss! Three more extra-large ales!"
"Same here. Four extra-large ones."
"Y-yes, right away!"
As expected of those two.
Seriously, how much are they going to drink?