The Greece Antagonist-Chapter 833 - 26 I’m Really Not a Lolicon! (6.3k)

The forging complete, the exhausted dwarves lay on the ground, fast asleep.

By the time they awoke, two whole days had passed. The originally cold and hard stone slab beneath them had been fully covered with soft blankets, and around them were the Lun Runes carved to isolate interference from the outside world.

The dwarves, though they were usually insensitive, could distinctly feel the courtesy and considerate treatment, which filled them with deep emotion.

Lord Loki, what a truly excellent god!

“Cough, the task is done, we should be leaving now.”

Clan leader Ivald cleared his throat to remind them, and upon hearing this, the dwarves came back to their senses.

Wasn’t the gold and the princess from the Dulin Clan still in the hands of the God of the Middle Court?

Realizing this, the gold-loving dwarves naturally couldn’t stay put, and they hurriedly got up from the ground, calling over the temple guards who were patrolling the perimeter:

“We’ve finished crafting as you requested!”

“Where’s the gold? Where’s Eden?”

“We want to go home!”

However, upon hearing their request, the guards could only shake their heads regretfully in refusal:

“You wish to leave? I’m afraid that’s not possible!”

Upon hearing this, the dwarves’ hearts sank, their faces turned dark as they were about to curse out loud.

Seeing this, the captain of the guard hurriedly explained:

“Please don’t misunderstand! You are not allowed to leave, because Lord Loki has already prepared a feast in the reception hall to formally treat you all.

Earlier, you all were sleeping so soundly, the lord knew you were exhausted and couldn’t bear to wake you up; he specifically instructed us to wait until you awoke, and to make sure to stop you and let you enjoy the banquet before allowing you to leave.”

Upon hearing this, the dwarves were overwhelmingly flattered:

“This, isn’t this too polite?”

“As it should be, as the host, there isn’t a reason to let guests work for seven days and nights and then send them back home on an empty stomach.”

A warm voice came from around the corner of the corridor, and upon arrival, Luo En revealed a highly amicable smile,

“Gentlemen, the banquet is ready, please follow me to the reception hall.”

Seeing the God of the Middle Court extend the invitation with such warmth and sincerity, the dwarves were deeply moved.

Those who had misunderstood his intentions even lowered their heads in shame.

Under such gracious hospitality, the group of Durin Dwarves obediently followed the lead of the temple guards to wash off the dirt from their bodies and then proceeded to the feast one by one.

As everyone arrived, Luo En, as the host, clapped his hands to command the maids to present the dishes prepared in advance.

Instantaneously, succulent roasted meat, savory smoked fish, incomparably delicious cream of mushroom soup, along with various seasonal vegetables and fruits were successively served on the table.

Additionally, whether it was the tableware on the table or the portion size of the food, everything was one size larger than usual and the chairs had been made taller in advance, clearly configured to accommodate the needs of the dwarves.

The dwarves might not understand the meaning of “feeling at home,” but they genuinely experienced a sense of respect, and thus ate with extraordinary happiness at the banquet.

Or rather, this was the most delightful banquet they had ever experienced.

Therefore, the invited Durin Dwarves held a deep affection for this friendly and considerate God of the Middle Court, even forgetting to demand the gold they had longed for.

As the festive atmosphere of the banquet reached its peak, dozens of maids each presented a sealed ceramic jar onto the table.

On opening the sealing clay, a rich malt aroma filled the air; as the jar tilted, the amber liquid poured into the large drinking horns on the table.

“Thank you all for the hard work in forging the sword, let’s drink to this together!”

Luo En rose from his seat with a smile, gesturing with his cup.

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A few dwarves enticed by the fragrance of the drink were about to lift their cups to drink heartily, but were held back by the more prudent elders beside them.

Dwarves love drink, respect drink, and understand the cultural implications that drink represents.

And in Nordic culture, honey wine is not just any beverage; it is an offering to the gods and a medium for forming certain kinds of pacts.

Traditionally, drinking the host’s honey wine morally obligated the guest to protect the host with martial force, effectively becoming somewhat of a vassal.

However, the Dulin Clan was not particularly close to the Asa Divine Race, nor to the humans of Midgard.

On the contrary, due to geographical factors, they had deep connections with the Mountain Giant Clan of Jotunheim.

If they drank the honey wine of the God of the Middle Court at this banquet, and should he wage war against Jotunheim thereafter, it would force the Durin Dwarves to take sides.

That would be a difficult position for them.

So he’s been waiting for us here?

That was close, almost fell for it!

The elder dwarves whispered about the cunning of the God of Tricks, all the while looking unanimously towards the clan leader Ivald, hoping he would make a decision to avert the crisis at hand.

Facing the expectant gazes of his clansmen, Ivald felt a bit overwhelmed.

To refuse the drink was easy, but his daughter and the gold of the Durin Clan were still in the other party’s hands.

If this God of the Middle Court were to become angry and turn against them, they would be in trouble.

Just as Ivald was hesitating on how to tactfully decline, Luo En seemed to discern his concerns and spoke with a smile:

“Don’t worry, it’s not honey wine but a malt beer I’ve recently brewed.”

On hearing this, Ivald’s eyes immediately lit up, and upon closer inspection, he realized that the liquid in the horn was indeed a unique amber color, different from the golden color of honey wine.

If it wasn’t honey wine, it meant that this was merely a banquet to entertain friends, with no special significance.

The surrounding Durin Dwarves who caught on to the implication could not help but swallow, their gazes fixed on the amber liquid in the horn.