Book 3: Chapter 82: Charged Comet and Worth Mine
Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Intoxication Resistance] has levelled up! It is now Intermediate Level 9.
"Oh?" Lone stopped as he was opening the front door to his Spirit Pavilion's central building.
Grimsley raised an annoyed eyebrow. He was still pissed off that Lone had removed all of the alcohol and its effect from his system when they had left the dwarf's forge.
He didn't mind having a drink and catching up but he needed Grimsley for serious work, and despite his protests, the dwarf did not work better drunk than he did while sober.
"Matriarch Lossa is here," Lone answered the unasked question. "You really gotta rank up, eh, short-ass?"
"An' ye've got tae shut up, eh, smart-ass?" Grimsley fired back. "Ah've plenty ah time. Ah've also nae need fer sensing others' auras."
"You say that but one of these days you're gotta tell an S-ranker to go fuck himself and his ego'll demand your death," Lone shrugged. "Even if you can apply your Strength, you're still just a C-ranker."
Grimsley snorted. "Ye worry tae much. If all it takes fae an S-ranker to kill me is a bad attitude, then the feck's the point ah livin'? Ah ain't gonna be tip-toein' around every random fecker's feelin's."
Lone shook his head as he followed Breena and Lossa's auras to the pavilion's training courtyard. "Whatever you say, man. I assume a lot of people are used to the brashness of dwarves, but I'd really rather not have to get revenge for you because you ran your mouth."
Grimsley grinned widely. "Ah, but ye would get revenge fer me, wouldn't ya?"
"'Course I would. What good's a friend if he doesn't avenge you, even if your murder was wholly justified, eh?" Lone replied with a smirk.
"Ain't 'at the truth? Noo dinnae ye gae dyin' afor me. It'd be feckn' miserable bustin' ma ass oof tae get strong 'nuff tae deal wae whatever could take yer self-healin' Primal-hostin' arse doon," Grimsley said with a full belly laugh.