The rich aroma of the ale continuously invaded their nostrils, clutching at their hearts and livers.

Upon seeing his fellow clansmen gradually losing their composure, Ivald simply steeled his heart, stood up with his cup in hand, and responded:

“Since it’s your newly brewed ale, I must definitely have a taste!”

After speaking, he tilted his head back and poured the malt wine down his throat, intending to quickly go through the motions and take his leave.

Unexpectedly, as the liquid entered his mouth, the intensely sweet and rich flavor exploded on the tip of his tongue. A part of it shot straight through the palate into the brain, bringing a floaty, almost heavenly sensation to the soul, while another part transmitted through the taste buds and esophagus to every limb and bone, stirring the blood, dilating the pores, and wiping away the exhaustion accumulated from a night of forging.

“Great Ale!”

Ivald’s eyes snapped open, and he couldn’t help but exclaim loudly, smashing the cup in his hand onto the ground where it shattered.

Seeing their chieftain so excited, the rest of the Durin Dwarves could hardly restrain themselves, each grabbing a cup to try this new brew.

And soon enough, the dwarves who tasted it wore intoxicated expressions on their faces.

Honey Wine had appeared early amongst the Nine Great Kingdoms. Although the dwarves enjoyed this drink that could make one float on air, they were far from fanatic about it.

Especially since they pursued an overly delicate taste, and the hint of honey sweetness mixed within always seemed to leave the dwarves finding the drink lacking somehow.

But the malt wine tasted today perfectly addressed this issue, boasting a flavor that was sweet, strong, layered, rich, and full-bodied.

If Honey Wine was like an effeminate noble lord, then this malt wine was akin to a hearty and robust lowborn warrior, more in line with the dwarves’ temperament and taste.

Thus, having just one sip, the taste buds of the dozens of Durin Dwarves were completely conquered.

The new malt wine was guzzled by the dwarves one cup after another, bringing a ceaselessly escalating sensory stimulation.

Gradually, the dwarves were no longer satisfied with using cups, but instead started holding up the ale barrels, drinking heartily straight from the spout.

Soon, this new brew that was many times more potent than Honey Wine left their faces flushed red, their consciousness inebriated, as they started singing and dancing with wild gestures or boasting to one another with slurred speech.

Only Ivald and a few of the shrewder, older dwarves were barely able to restrain their appetites, maintaining a sliver of rationality.

But even so, their gazes were a bit hazy, their bodies and minds entering an extremely relaxed state.

Seeing that the timing was ripe, Luo En walked down from his seat with a smile, approaching Ivald:

“How’s the ale?”

“Fantastic! A thousand, no, a hundred thousand times better than that sissy Honey Wine!”

Ivald replied with a thick tongue, his face one of utter bliss.

Luo En conveniently ignored the latter half of the response that was full of aggression, a thick smile spreading across his face.

“Would you like to have this ale all the time?”

“Is that really possible?”

Ivald’s eyes lit up, the alcohol in his system almost having devoured his last shreds of reason.

Luo En nodded, then shifted the topic slightly:

“It is possible, but there’s a small issue.”

“What issue?”

“This malt wine is made from the grains of Midgard. If you want to drink it, you could establish a trade route between Midgard and Dwarf Country and exchange goods. But I’m not too familiar with the situation over there, and I need a group of trustworthy people to take care of the transportation, storage, and sales of the ale…”

“Look for us! We of the Dulin Clan are willing to help!”

Without a second thought, Ivald offered, and the surrounding Durin Dwarves nodded in agreement, displaying tremendous enthusiasm.

If they could introduce this wonderful malt wine into Dwarf Country, not only would they get to enjoy it, but it could also be a boon to their other ale-loving brethren.

Seeing a few foolish fish already biting the bait, Luo En’s smile grew even more brilliant:

“That’s wonderful! Let’s sign a contract now and establish a partnership!”

“Do we need a contract?”

The dwarves looked at one another, bewildered.

Luo En nodded, asserting seriously:

“Of course! Friendship is friendship, business is business. I’m a fair person; how could I let friends suffer a loss?”

Upon hearing this, Ivald hesitated with the sliver of sobriety he was barely maintaining:

“Sir, we don’t need a contract, we are just helping out…”

“Those willing to help will be provided with three barrels of malt wine every month, free of charge!”

With a wave of Luo En’s hand, Ivald’s words got stuck in his throat as the surrounding Durin Dwarves all looked over, their breathing becoming rapid.

Free supply? Such good things do exist!

Seeing the dwarves not responding, Luo En furrowed his brows:

“Not enough?”

“No, we…”

“Well then, in the early stages of brewing, we’ll need a lot of funds to purchase raw materials. The Dulin Clan could invest with their Gold, and my Fertility Temple will take care of the technical aspects. Once we make a profit, we’ll split it 70-30.”

Luo En paused for a moment, a gentle smile appearing on his face,

“Although it might take some time to recoup the investment, during this period, as partners of the Temple, you’ll be able to drink unlimited amounts of the ale produced by the Temple.”

Hearing this, the dwarves were so excited that they nearly fainted.

Unlimited enjoyment of malt wine? What heavenly days!

And the chieftain Ivald, along with the few long-sighted older dwarves, couldn’t help but be shocked by the magnanimity of this God of the Middle Court.

As the ones who had experienced it firsthand, they clearly knew how strong the attraction of this malt wine was to the dwarves.

Once this malt wine was promoted, plenty of dwarves would be willing to exchange their Gold for a satisfying cup.

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