What Is Passed Down (7)

Who was the first to call alcohol the water of life?

I do like alcohol, but even I think that's a bit of an exaggeration.

Yet there are people—or rather, a race—that genuinely believe alcohol is the water that keeps life going.

Of course, I mean the dwarves.

"To our fellow dwarves."

"To our brothers."

I held a mug filled with high-proof distilled liquor made in the dwarven country.

Around me were members of a dwarven trading party who had come to the Roodria Kingdom, and then to the Elven Forest, to trade.

They were familiar faces from an earlier journey north to the Fordor Empire, where I had traveled with them and gotten to know them.

"Cheers!"

With that, we clinked our wooden mugs together.

Dwarven distilled liquor rarely makes its way into human lands.

They had gone out of their way to bring it from the dwarven country, adding it to their cargo so they could drink with me.

I couldn't help thinking that, although they had accepted me as one of their own, I had never actually become their brother—but it would have been churlish to point that out.

The distilled liquor I'd gone so long without slid down into my stomach, burning my throat.

There aren't many foods or drinks in this world that deliver such a powerful kick.

"Oh, Eisa-san. You still drink like no elf I've ever seen. Well, some elves are fun to drink with once you get to know them, but you're the only elf who can really drink with us."

I exhaled a satisfied sigh, my breath reeking of alcohol, and the dwarves around me thumped my shoulders.

They were as cheerful and good-natured as ever.

According to them, trade between the elves and dwarves was apparently going extremely well for now.

The basic arrangement for trade between elves and dwarves was for Mi Forest, an elven settlement in the Roodria Kingdom, to trade with the dwarven trading caravans.

The elven caravans then carried the goods acquired by Mi Forest to various places, delivering them to the other settlements as well.

They also did business with humans along the way.

Recently, however, the volume carried by the dwarven trading caravans—or by the elven caravans—could no longer keep up with demand, and they were apparently planning to expand trade.

For example, the elves of Mi Forest might visit the dwarven country and trade independently of the dwarven trading caravans, or establish distribution routes between forests in addition to the elven caravans.

If that happened, well, it would be very interesting.

Even now, Mi Forest had apparently become quite lively—for an elven settlement, at least—after becoming a distribution hub.

I found myself thinking that I might visit the Mi Forest settlement myself sometime.

But that was something for a little later.

More importantly, for the time being, I had a prototype sword awaiting me, made with tamahagane produced in the dwarven country and brought over by today's trading party.

Yes, it had already been a year since I returned to the Roodria Kingdom and asked the dwarves to produce tamahagane.

The situation in the central part of the continent was apparently beginning to stabilize, little by little.

Zieden's expansion had come to a complete halt, and skirmishes with the Villestica Republic had almost ceased.

Following negotiations with the elven caravans, the leadership that had spearheaded Zieden's expansion had been replaced, and the country's policies had changed.

Of course, things would never return to exactly how they had been before.

The dead would not return to life, and even Zieden would not relinquish all the territory it had taken by invading the Karkoim Duchy.

If Zieden were ever to give it up, it would probably only be after suffering a crushing defeat in a major war.

What joy was there in staining the land crimson, piling corpses into mountains, and slightly changing the shape of a map?

Once a change has occurred, it cannot simply be treated as though it never happened.

The neighboring countries had not wanted a war fought merely to redraw the map.

That included the Roodria Kingdom, the Villestica Republic, and the small states.

The Karkoim Duchy might have wanted its former territory back, but as it had already become a vassal state of the Villestica Republic, it could not oppose the republic's wishes.

Negotiations among the various countries had begun, though for now they were being conducted only through the elven caravans.

The battlefield had shifted from the front lines, where bows and spears drew blood, to the world of politics.

Zieden had broken an unspoken understanding to start a war, only to find itself unable to continue it, thereby exposing a major weakness to the neighboring countries.

The other countries would surely hold Zieden accountable.

I had no idea what conditions they would impose—reparations, the cession of territory, or whatever else—since I was no good at politics.

If they pushed too hard, Zieden would be left with the seeds of suffering and discontent, which could grow into the next war.

...But, well, with the elven caravans—and Airena—serving as intermediaries, I'm sure they'd manage it.

Come to think of it, with the threat from Zieden diminished, the small states had apparently begun consolidating their forces and pushing back Darotte's army.

It would still take a long time for the fighting to end, but they should have gotten over one major hurdle.

However, the voices calling for the restoration of the Azedda Empire that had begun spreading among the small states would probably never disappear.

As I said earlier, once a change has occurred, it cannot be undone, and people whose lives have been threatened will yearn for a powerful country that can provide them with stability.

The situation in the central part of the continent would continue to change, and there was no telling what lay ahead.