You... have you considered becoming that Freljord demigod's little brother?
"...Huh?"
Hearing Fang Mo say that, the dwarf sitting at the bar instinctively glanced at him.
Unlike the other dwarves, however, he did not speak up. Instead, he quickly withdrew his gaze and continued drinking alone.
"A goblin?"
Fortunately, a voice suddenly came from behind the bar. "To run into a goblin in a dwarven kingdom—now that's a rare sight..."
This voice was completely different from the dwarves'.
It was not exactly crisp or pleasant to the ear, but it was clearly distinct from the dwarves' rough voices.
It was a hoarse female voice laced with exhaustion. Fang Mo subconsciously turned toward it and happened to see a figure poking out from behind the bar.
She was a Dark Elf with rather delicate features and pointed ears. Her skin was somewhat dark, and her figure seemed quite good—not just her body, but her entire bearing felt very mature... though Fang Mo was not particularly interested.
Of course, there was something strange about this.
Everyone knew this was a dwarven tavern. Its ceiling was not even as high as Fang Mo's doghouse, while elves were generally quite tall.
If the owner were a dwarf, such a low design would not be unusual. But after seeing this elf, the tavern's layout became obviously unreasonable—unless she could mix drinks while sitting on the floor and crawl around the room...
"What, never seen a Dark Elf before?"
While Fang Mo was thinking this, the Dark Elf across from him spoke wearily. "If you want a drink, sit down and pay quietly. If you're here to cause trouble, I'm afraid I can't entertain you..."
"Then give me a drink first."
Since he was already here, Fang Mo simply walked over to the bar and sat