Hyper-Dimensional Player-Chapter 442 - 60: Barbarians, Dwarves, and a Free-for-All

Chapter 442: Chapter 60: Barbarians, Dwarves, and a Free-for-All

At this moment, a subtle change occurred within the entire team.

Although Hegel’s bravery earned the admiration of others, all the barbarians, including Crete, unconsciously followed behind Duncan.

Hegel’s battles were indeed thrilling and hot-blooded, but compared to Duncan, there was ultimately less skill.

These barbarians were not foolish.

While they yearned for fierce and exhilarating battles, being able to easily deal with enemies meant they could boast about it even more impressively back at the tavern.

As long as the Barbarian Warriors drank, they were bound to boast, which was their favorite pastime.

It’s said that dwarves are also quite boastful.

They could have a contest!

"Humans."

Hegel looked at the nearby footprints and said in a deep voice, "Why are there human teams in the barren mountains and ridges? Southern adventurers?"

"Mercenaries shouldn’t take this path."

Mercenaries.

Everyone is just trying to earn a living; they take the main roads. Where would a mercenary group wander into the wilderness? Caravans always follow the established safe routes.

Only adventurers like to delve into the deep mountains and ancient forests.

"Seems like quite a few people died."

Crete looked at the blood on the ground, sniffed with his nose, shrugged and said, "Seems like it’s cooked."

Hmm.

Indeed, it’s cooked.

Duncan even detected a hint of stewed meat aroma.

A group of barbarians approached a stinking cave, filled with bones outside, with a big pot stewing meat. Needless to say, everyone knew what was inside. Inside was a cage, and surprisingly, there were two half-dead people inside.

—Tyr Warrior (Three-Star Silver Gray).

—Hill Dwarf (Three-Star Silver Gray).

Wait?

Tyr?!

A deity from the Norse Pantheon?

Duncan’s expression slightly changed, and by now, Hegel had already smashed the cage with his bare hands, looked inside at the dying people and said, "Their limbs have been broken by the ogres."

"We can’t heal these kinds of injuries."

The ogres were not foolish either; they preferred fresh meat, so they would break limbs to keep them for several days.

The one calling for help was the Tyr Warrior, while the dwarf had already lost consciousness.

"Let’s treat their wounds first."

Duncan said in a deep voice, "Crete, take a look inside the cave; if there are any valuable spoils, bring them out."

"Be careful."

Hegel checked the breath of the dwarf, then turned to Duncan and said, "I’m afraid we’ll have to carry them to the next city."

The Tyr Warrior was already close to fainting.

Crete soon came out, cursing, "It stinks so bad inside!"

"There are some valuable things though."

Making a group of gruff barbarians curse repeatedly; it must truly be stinking to the core.

The group took a brief rest.

Then, before dawn, they continued on their way, carrying a hundred pounds of weight was nothing; Duncan carried three battle axes alone, while Hegel and Crete each carried one and moved on.

"We saved his life; when we return, his clan should forge a few handy weapons for us, right?"

Crete carried the unconscious dwarf and said, "I’ve heard that the dwarf’s forging technique is very impressive."

Hegel glanced back.

Actually, he came here first because of an oracle in the dark; he’s been missing a legendary-level weapon, and the oracle told him to find the dwarves for a chance.

The dwarves in this world are somewhat like those in Nordic mythology, not only skilled in forging but also proficient in magic.

At this moment, the Tyr Warrior had awakened and said weakly, "Thank you for saving me."

Duncan walked up to him, glanced at him, but ultimately said nothing.

The barbarians are not very cultured.

He recognized that something was odd with Tyr at a glance and planned to test out more once they reached the dwarf city.

Their group marched briskly.

Before the dwarf entered the dying state, they reached a city hidden among the hills and mountains; immediately, the dwarf wizards came to receive them.

"Let’s go!"

"Let’s drink!"

Crete, upon arriving at the dwarf inn, instantly couldn’t sit still, clamoring to have a drink-off with the dwarves.

Hegel was also tempted; since he had arrived here, his craving for alcohol had ignited.

The seven barbarians immediately agreed!

Instinctively, however, everyone looked towards Duncan who sat quietly, as if waiting for his opinion.

At this moment, if Duncan outright vetoed it, with his current influence in the Barbarian Battle Group, he might indeed make them hold off for a day or two.

"Let’s go!" 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"Overturn those dwarves! Let’s show them the drinking capacity of Barbarian Warriors."

After all, Duncan wasn’t in his human form, he wouldn’t kill the mood at a time like this. Sometimes, it felt quite liberating to roam the world without much thought, purely following intuition.

A cheer erupted.

Even Hegel couldn’t help but feel happy, excitedly slapped Duncan’s shoulder with a force big enough to kill, his fighting spirit high: "Yes! That’s right!"

"Barbarian Warriors are the true drink champs!"

"Overturn them!"

In the cold Northern Land, being able to drink was also a way to gain fame.

"These barbarians boast so big!"

"Come down!"

"Drink a couple with your Uncle Harred."

The bearded dwarf in the tavern basement immediately became restless, and in a fury, he huffed, "Beat me in drinking. Your stay here will be completely free!"

Hmm?

How did the tavern owner get provoked?

The first to be provoked was actually the dwarf owner of the inn. He called his staff to bring out barrels of liquor, grumbling, "Young folks don’t know the immensity of heaven and earth!"

"Who goes first?"

At this moment, it was only natural for Hegel to be eager to dive in.

The commotion had already drawn quite a crowd, even passing dwarves were rushing in, curious to see which Barbarian dared to boast so arrogantly.

But upon seeing Hegel’s towering physique and solid muscles, they realized they had met a formidable opponent this time.

Even among Barbarians, there are ranks, and those from the bitter Northern Land can drink the most!

Clang!

The dwarven blacksmith next door, holding a hammer, also put down his tools and came over. As he wiped his hands, he told the tavern owner, "Bring out the Breath of Molten Fire and show these Barbarians the dwarves’ drinking prowess!"

The scene instantly descended into chaos.

When news spread that a group of Barbarians was challenging the dwarves to a drinking contest, the place was packed with spectators.

Duncan was inexplicably handed an oak tankard, and the dwarf across from him took a quick swig, then glared at him with puffed cheeks.

There was no choice but to drink.

If they didn’t knock out a couple of dwarves today, they might be thrown out after a group beating.

The Warriors of the Barbarian Race highly value honor; they can drink until they drop, but they can’t shy away from a fight. At this moment, Hegel had already hoisted an oak barrel, challenging the tavern owner head-on.

In the Great Snow Mountain of the Northern Land.

Being able to drink a group of dwarves under the table would earn one fame that surpasses defeating a Legendary Monster.

Hegel’s expression grew increasingly serious, his fighting spirit flaring like a burning flame, eyes bloodshot. His drinking determination was even fiercer than defeating an Ogre.

One glass after another.

Hegel hoisted the barrel onto his shoulder, pouring glass after glass. His hearty drinking had the surrounding dwarves cheering with excitement.

Then, somehow, a fight broke out.

Everyone was shouting, bare-fisted, without weapons, each punch landing on flesh, leaving the place a total wreck.

Duncan felt bewildered.

He swung his heavy tankard and knocked a bearded dwarf unconscious. After all, they all looked pretty much alike and who knows who threw a tankard at him; might as well knock out a few drunk dwarves.

Hegel also got drunk.

He crouched down to wrestle with a dwarf as sturdy as forged steel. This time, he encountered a tough opponent, seemingly a Legendary Dwarven Warrior. Hegel exerted himself, yet the opponent remained motionless, as if rooted to the ground.

Crete had already been knocked out, and Duncan dragged him to a corner. The ground reeked of urine, but at this point, it didn’t matter much.

Only three of the eight Barbarians were still standing.

The dwarves were dead set on leaving them all grounded here.

Duncan unknowingly drank too much as well.

What a thrill!

Damn it!

The dwarves themselves were also mixing in the brawl. Duncan charged into the fray, knocking one out with a punch, then was suddenly overwhelmed by muscular bodies, pinned down by four or five drunken dwarves.

Ugar tried to come to help; he managed to hold on the longest, proving his remarkable drinking capacity.

Bam!

He ended up getting hit on the forehead with a jug, passing out immediately.

In the end, it wasn’t clear whether Hegel or Duncan held out the longest, but the human form was so drunk the projection page turned blurry. Regardless, they even got the City Lord of the Hill Dwarves to drink, and finally, all eight Barbarians were down, with Duncan crawling up to the second floor.

Apparently, winning a drinking contest against dwarves isn’t so easily achieved!

Their constitution is just too strong.

Duncan initially thought he might win the drinking contest against the dwarves and earn a couple of points towards Legendary Level fame but ended up heading back to Dimension Space for some honest rest.

This group of dwarves didn’t abide by the code of chivalry.

A wordless night passed.

The next day, everyone woke up with bruised faces, including Hegel, whose head was swollen like a pig’s; Duncan was slightly better, only having a bruised chin. The eight Barbarians gradually awoke, exchanging awkward glances before suddenly breaking into hearty laughter.

The previous Barbarian Warriors hadn’t beaten the dwarves either; their failure was quite normal. They’ll come again. It’s impossible for the dwarves to maintain an undefeated record forever.

To earn those Legendary Level points, one must out-drink all the dwarves and be the last one standing, defeating the last drunken dwarf in the melee.

Last night’s victor was a Legendary Dwarven Warrior.

"Hmm?"

"Have all the dwarves become friendly units?"

Duncan was also bewildered after last night’s drinking.

A dozen dwarves had drunk with him, and even a burly blacksmith holding a barrel had challenged him. Anyone would have found it overwhelming.

Yesterday, the dwarves were all neutral marked units.

After a drinking session and a brawl.

The entire underground city of the Hill Dwarves had turned into friendly units, those drunken dwarves he pummeled even greeted Duncan like old friends.

"Have something to eat."

"Young man."

The tavern owner brought over a plate of blood sausage, dwarf stew, and charcoal-grilled smoked meat, smiling and patting Duncan and Hegel on the shoulder, "You two aren’t bad, but still a bit tender."

"Sixty years ago, I visited the Great Snow Mountain and had a drinking contest with the chieftain of your Thunder Beast tribe."

"Heh heh!"

"He couldn’t out-drink me and got embarrassed."

The dwarves have long lifespans.

The tavern owner’s beard was already a bit grey; he must be over two hundred years old, a four-star silver-gray marked unit himself.

Barbarians have their own way of dealing with things.

This place also hosts human caravans from the south, but compared to these seven goofball Barbarians, the dwarves are noticeably more enthusiastic towards them.

The seven calabash brothers’ entire squad was wiped out.

But it seems they opened up a situation on the hill dwarves’ turf with this outrageous way of socializing.

.........