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Chapter 440: The Great Lover's Life is Also Precious
Chapter 440: The Great Lover's Life is Also Precious
The Great Lover turned to glance at Anthanas and Cynora. He contemplated seeking external assistance.
Logically, these two eighth-rank demons should have a higher alcohol tolerance than humans.
However, if they got drunk, there would be no stopping their drunken antics.
If the last Dominating Priest passed out from drinking, they wouldn't be able to swap identities with Planna. He had to maintain a certain level of consciousness.
That left only two options—either he drank, or Hyperian did.
"Hyperian, how's your alcohol tolerance?" The Great Lover asked.
"I haven't really tested it, so it's probably not great but not terrible either," Hyperian replied uncertainly.
At her response, the Great Lover's expression became troubled.
"Er..."
Watching the Great Lover's rare display of hesitation, Hyperian hesitated as well. She recalled that Lanchi never touched alcohol.
During the Saints' Rogue Banquet, when Fred offered him a low-degree sweet white grape wine, Lanchi smiled and declined.
Could it be that Lanchi couldn't hold his liquor? Was he afraid of drinking? That didn't seem likely.
Hyperian couldn't imagine what Lanchi would be like when drunk.
Regardless, from now on, they must ensure that Lanchi didn't accidentally consume any food containing alcohol.
"Why don't I do it?" Hyperian leaned closer and suggested, sensing that Lanchi truly didn't want to drink and realizing for the first time that there was something he wasn't adept at.
As the two hesitated, Jailer Darea sighed. "Maybe I should prepare some fruit juice next time? I feel like that would be more suitable for you two delicate little princesses."
Jailer Darea arched an eyebrow scornfully, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
Not even daring to drink alcohol, they would likely die soon after leaving the safety zone and entering the inverted Passage of the Afterlife barrier—cowards.
"I'll do it," the Great Lover said, shaking his head at Hyperian and stepping forward to take the wine glass.
He stared at the wine in the glass, hesitated for a moment, then finally raised the glass and emptied it in one go.
First, his lips and tongue were assaulted by the strong alcoholic flavor, like a liquid flame sliding through his mouth. The stimulation spread rapidly from the tip of his tongue to his throat, accompanied by a burning sensation as if his throat were enveloped by an invisible heat wave. As the wine went down, the burning sensation traveled through his esophagus to his stomach, and a heat source slowly released its warmth.
At this moment, his body began to feel the impact of the strong liquor, and a scorching heat started radiating from his stomach, gradually spreading to his limbs and bones.
Soon, the Great Lover's body reacted negatively to the abnormally potent liquor, exhibiting symptoms like nausea, headache, and dizziness.
However, the chaotic state did not affect his true body.
He took a deep breath, his expression unchanged, and placed the empty glass on the table with a crisp sound.
Jailer Darea, sitting across from him, was stunned.
Are you really not afraid of the pain by drinking like that? Could you be an expert drinker?
"Good... good..." Jailer Darea said, astonished. "It seems you are an opponent worth my full effort."
Her smile instantly became brighter and more exuberant, and she couldn't hide her excitement as the corners of her mouth turned up.
The Jailer's office desk in the grand hall seemed to have transformed into a bar, illuminated by the soft golden light.
Jailer Darea's movements were steady yet swift as she slid the glass across the table and poured herself another drink. She followed the Great Lover's lead and downed the glass in one go, then forcibly endured the pain and pleasure, her eyes glinting with provocation as she stared at the Great Lover, as if challenging him to keep up.
The Great Lover picked up the bottle and poured himself a full glass. With a casual lift of his hand, he drank, his verdant eyes unwavering as they fixed on Jailer Darea.
There was no hint of competition in his gaze; he drank as casually as one would sip tea.
"..."
Jailer Darea's hands trembled slightly. She had never seen anyone dare to drink with her like this.
It was as if she was the one drinking, and her opponent was merely sipping tea.
Unbearable! She couldn't lose today!
Her anger and excitement fueled her, and as time passed, the intoxicated Jailer Darea's enthusiasm heated up the atmosphere. She began to show subtle signs of drunkenness, her words becoming more direct and bold. She even made exaggerated faces after downing a cup, deliberately trying to provoke her opponent.
"Looks like you're holding up well, but this is just the beginning."
With each round, Jailer Darea's face gradually flushed, but her eyes remained fierce and her smile brilliant.
This continued...
Until finally, the Great Lover's hand gripped the wine glass, but he couldn't bring himself to lift it.
"Oh? Are you calling it quits already?" Jailer Darea asked, breathless.
"Millian, help me," the Great Lover said hoarsely to Hyperian.
"Coming, coming," Hyperian replied.
However, to her surprise, when she took the wine glass from the Great Lover, he made no move to vacate his seat.
Hyperian's pupils contracted sharply.
If she wasn't mistaken, the Great Lover, with his slightly parted lips and unwavering gaze, was asking her to help him drink—to pour the wine directly into his mouth.
His arms no longer had the strength to lift the glass.
"This..."
Hyperian's head was spinning.
"Are you sure you're aware of what you're doing? Do you really want to do this?"
She hesitated to carry out his request.
At this moment, she couldn't tell if Lanchi was doing this to protect her or if he truly held a grudge against Planna.
But Lanchi's ever-gentle gaze seemed to persistently convey to her—
Just believe in me. Whatever I promise to help you with, I won't let you suffer.
Hyperian's eyes welled up with tears at his unspoken assurance. She wiped them away with her sleeve, took a deep breath, and picked up the wine glass.
If Lanchi said it could be done, then it could be done.
And so...
To Jailer Darea's astonishment, she watched as Hyperian, like a tormentor, held the black-haired, green-eyed girl by the back of her head and poured the wine into her mouth.
Behind the Great Lover...
"I'm a little worried that Her Majesty will look calm and composed, but when I pat her shoulder, I'll find that she has passed away," Anthanas whispered to Cynora.
"Don't say such things. How could our King possibly lose to mere alcohol?" Cynora replied with a hint of displeasure.
"But could you handle this strong liquor?" Anthanas moved closer to Cynora and asked.
"...I would've probably passed out a minute ago," Cynora admitted.
She had to concede that the King's drinking was downright insane. He treated his life as if it were disposable, downing glass after glass as long as it didn't kill him.
Even Jailer Darea across from them was stunned by this display.
"I'm not much of a drinker, but you, my friend, you are the true Alcohol Saint!"
(End of Chapter)
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