Dream Life Vol 3 Chapter 23.2: “The Grand Banquet: Part 1”

　Preparations for the banquet were steadily underway, and once the liquor arrived, the preparations would be complete.

　The main liquor this time would be the ale and beer that the dwarves would bring. Of course, we have made preparations here as well. The stone water tank made with earth magic was filled with ice made yesterday, and chilled ceramic bottles of liquor were placed in the tank. There are about ten other bottles in the tank as well.

　It is at times like this that I realize how convenient magic really is.

　The food preparation is almost finished. This time, we are planning to serve buffet-style dishes, and the furnace for grilling meat and fish has been made with earth magic. The dozen or so cooks we have arranged for the event have also finished their preparations, so we should be able to serve quite a full-scale meal.

　I have told them to invite not only the masters but also their apprentices and their families to this banquet. Therefore, if we include the young craftsmen other than dwarves, there should be four or five hundred people in total. A guild official told me with a wry smile that most of the blacksmithing workshops in Welburn and nearby towns and villages were temporarily closed.

　The venue, the Knights’ training grounds, was not far from the eastern city gate. A well-maintained road, though not a main road, extended from the eastern gate, from which the site was clearly visible. People passing by on the road looked at the dwarves who were heading to the training grounds one after another with a strange look on their faces.

　It was still more than an hour before noon, and already nearly two hundred dwarves had arrived.

　They greeted mother cheerfully and gave the Lockhart squires a selection of food that appeared to be a gift. Some gave them pigs and lambs on thick stake-like skewers, seemingly they were to be roasted whole.

　Even more impressive was a large barrel on a cart. The barrels were large, holding more than two hundred liters, and before noon more than thirty barrels had been brought in.

(If the barrels are hogshead – a large barrel for ale, one barrel is about 250 liters, so 30 barrels is 7,500 liters… If 300 adults come, each person will have 25 liters… …It’s just too much… I just don’t want to open everything, but at a banquet like this, I’m sure they’ll open everything. I’m sure…) (Zack)

　More than thirty minutes before the start time, the hall was filled with lively voices.

　Mr. Degenhardt, the branch manager of the Blacksmith Guild, came in front of me with a cart full of barrels. After a brief bow in front of my father, he said to me, “It’s a perfect day for a banquet,” and sat down on a chair.

　The noon bell could be heard from the city.

　Taking this as a signal, my father stood up and gave the opening speech.

　My father holds up his mug and declares loudly and briefly.

“Everyone! Please drink a lot today! Cheers!” (Matt)

　At his voice, hundreds of blacksmiths chanted, “Cheers!” and the feast began.

　This time, the tables are set freely, but Mr. Degenhardt and his family are seated near the table of the Lockhart family, the guests of honor.

　With Degenhardt are his wife and three apprentices. His wife, Hede, is a slightly chubby dwarf woman who looks to be in her mid-thirties, and one of the three apprentices is their son.

“This is our prized ale. Drink, drink it.” (Degenhardt)

　Degenhardt pulls us over to the barrel he has brought.

　When I fill my ceramic mug with ale, a strong hop bitterness spreads across my tongue, and the distinctive sweet aroma tickles my nose.

(I feel like it’s similar to IPA – India Pale Ale: a strongly hopped ale. No, it’s a double IPA. It’s about as strong… But it’s lukewarm. As expected, it gets warm outside in midsummer even in the shade of a tree…) (Zack)

　I asked Mr. Degenhardt, “Can I cool it down a little?”

　“Cool it down?” he asked with a doubtful look on his face.

“I think it tastes better if it’s a little colder, right? Of course, I don’t want it to be too cold.” (Zack)

　I believe that temperature is the key to beer and ale.

　A crisply chilled lager or pilsner – a light-colored, bottom-fermented beer, and most of the beers made by major Japanese breweries are of this type, but I think ales are better when they are just a little bit chilled.

　Stouts–dark-colored beers such as dark beers–are better when they are a little warm. Japanese pubs are now stocking draft stout from the world’s best-known brewers, but I have never been able to drink it at the right temperature as in the real thing. I have never been able to drink it at the right temperature as in the real thing. I cannot taste anything even if it is served at the same temperature as a pilsner.

　Of course, I have never had one from Dublin, Ireland, where it is made.

　While Degenhardt looked doubtful at my words, I cooled the ale in my mug with the spell pseudo-Peltier effect. When the ale has cooled to about 10 degrees Celsius, I sip from the mug again.

“It’s delicious! As expected of a prized ale. The strong hops are good… About 1.5 times the normal amount? No, I’m sure you used twice as much. I guess the long aging must have worked, the balance of bitterness and flavor is exquisite… What is this? I see! It’s the sweetness of top fermentation! …Since it’s not filtered, it has a bit of a yeasty taste, but this scent is also nice. This one has a nice character…” (Zack)

　I seemed to have been talking to myself without realizing it, and not only Mr. Degenhardt, but also my father, brother, and Liddy were staring at me.

　I couldn’t stand that stare anymore, and all I could do was say, “Well, I thought it was good…”

　Immediately after that, Mr. Degenhardt’s hearty laughter echoes.

“Gahahaha! As expected of a Lockhart!” (Degenhardt)

　Saying that, he slapped me on the back.

“Anyway, you can already tell even as someone young you. It’s true that our ale has twice as much hops as those around here…” (Degenhardt)

　Mr. Degenhardt explains happily, perhaps happy to be praised for an ale he is so proud of that is tailored to his own tastes.

　I asked him a few questions, too, as I emptied my mug.

“Hey, can I cool down the whole barrel? Sharon and I can chill with magic.” (Zack)

“Cool it down with magic? If you can do it, I’d love to have you do it… but I’ve never heard of a magician using magic for such a thing.” (Degenhardt)

　Degenhardt admitted this with a look of shock on his face.

“What are you going to do… if you’re not going to use magic on something like this?” (Zack)

　I said this with a straight face, and people around us burst into laughter.

“Really, you’re even more obsessed with booze than the dwarves… No, that’s why you are the owner of the Zack Collection.” (Degenhardt)

　Me and Sharon chill the keg. The pseudo-Peltier effect magic is so magically efficient that it doesn’t take much magic MP to cool down about two hundred liters of liquid by ten degrees Celsius. Sharon only cools it while listening to the opinion of the Dwarf owner, but in my case, I taste it one by one and discuss ale with the owner, so I don’t make much progress.

　I tasted about fifteen barrels, all of which were unique: not only amber types like IPAs, but also black beers like stouts and porters, some of which were close to Belgian Monastery Trappists with added fruits and spices.

　I was so engrossed in the ales that I didn’t notice the food being served around me.

(It’s always been the case that when alcohol is the main attraction, people forget about the food. Well, even if the main attraction is food, we shouldn’t forget about alcohol…) (Zack)

　The food, prepared by the cooks arranged by Squire Enos Vassell and Blacksmith’s Guild employee Jonathan Water, was served one after another. In addition, meat was being cooked on a simple grill I had built, which was also attracting a crowd.

　Other dishes such as roasted chicken, potatoes like German potatoes [T/N: No idea.], and boiled sausages were kept in a stone kiln-like warming cabinet made with earth magic to prevent them from getting cold. Of course, the heat source is my and Sharon’s magic. The inside of the kiln is heated by pseudo-Peltier effect magic, so it can be used as a warming cabinet. Unfortunately, we haven’t built a chimney, so we can’t use wood for the oven.

　While the barrels are cooling, I talked with many blacksmiths.

　Most of them are talking about drinking, but they are also talking about the kunai-shaped throwing knives I used for self-defense, metal, and other such unimportant topics.

　Liddy is always following beside me, and together we share our thoughts on ale. Unusually for a shy girl, she seemed to enjoy talking with the dwarves.

(Perhaps the reason why elves and dwarves don’t get along is just about the story with the ring. Well, in Liddy’s case, as long as they don’t look at her lasciviously, there might not be a problem…) (Zack)

　The dwarves gather around my father and brother as well. At first, they were reserved, but since my father didn’t seem to mind, they chatted and laughed as if he were old friends.

(My father is used to this because of the village festival, so I guess it’s not a problem, but an ordinary lord would not be like this. So, I guess the dwarves can talk with him without hesitation too…) (Zack)

　As laughter began to rise from the fathers’ table, the previously reserved blacksmiths’ families and young craftsmen seemed to relax. Aside from the masters… it seems that ordinary dwarves are not so different from ordinary humans…

　The musicians were playing music, perhaps prepared by Mr. Water, and it was a full-blown festival.

　After an hour or so, the banquet was in full swing, with cheerful voices coming from all over the place.

　The musicians suddenly stopped playing.

　As I wondered why, the blacksmiths suddenly stood up and started holding up their mugs.

“Alright! Let’s sing the usual song!” (Degenhardt)

　Mr. Degenhardt exclaimed, and the musicians began to play in an up-tempo kind of way. Then the dwarves stood up and began to sing in unison.

“Raise your mug! My friend!

　Let’s sing a song! My friend!

　Though for a time we were strangers,

　But if we drink together, we are friends!

　Our prized beer and wine!

　Let’s drink until we run out of wine!

　Come, friends, let us raise our mugs together!

　Come, friends, let’s stomp our feet together!

　Come, friends, let us drink it all in one gulp!

　One, two, three, cheers!” (Dwarves)

　Lured by the dwarves, we also stood up and started singing. We stomp our feet, wave, and swing our mugs to the tune of the song.

(It’s like an Oktoberfest, and it’s really fun… yet, there’s a drinking timing in every bar. I don’t know who thought of this, but if you keep on drinking, you’ll fall down…) (Zack)

　The singing made it even more exciting, and loud laughter echoed through the grassland.