Back in the Driver’s Seat [End of Arc I]

“Puuuush! Just a little more!”

The red car roared, its tires spinning helplessly, mud spraying in every direction.

“Come on, you pile of junk!” grunted Bromor, boots sinking into the muck, shoulder pressed against the bumper as he shoved with all his strength.

With a CRACK, the plank under the tire snapped, the car slid back into the muddy ditch, and crashed with a metallic CLANG against a rock.

Marcus slammed his fist on the dashboard. “Damn it! That was our last plank!”

Bromor stumbled back, mud dripping from his beard. “Give it up, lad. We’ll never get this rusty contraption out of here!”

The display lit up with warning lights. Marcus sighed, let his head sink onto the steering wheel.

Bromor trudged over and leaned his arm against the open window.

Meanwhile, Marcus grabbed his staff from the back seat, held it over his cup, filled it with a satisfying PLOP of fresh beer, and took a deep gulp.

“Damn… Gus is gonna kill me when he sees the car.”

He shoved the seat back, lit his vape, took a few drags, then passed it to Bromor, who puffed on it as if it were a perfectly normal thing for him to do.

“Truly impressive,” Bromor muttered, letting his eyes wander across the machine. “Hard to believe humans are capable of building something like this…”

Suddenly, the vape flickered, gave a long beep, then died.

“Oi! Seems your magic pipe just crapped out.”

Marcus groaned, took it back without even looking. “…Battery’s dead. “Don’t suppose you’ve got an USB charger handy, huh?” He laughed hoarsely, not expecting an answer.

But Bromor stroked his beard, thinking. “…Don’t know what that is, but I’d wager with concentrated Leyrunit, we could make it work again.”

Marcus sat up, eyes wide. “You mean…”

Bromor nodded. “Just a guess…” He rapped the car’s frame with his knuckles. “But it might be possible to power your strange human devices with Leyrunit. Including this car, or whatever you call it.”

Marcus’ eyes lit up. “Dude, that would be insane!”

But Bromor quickly raised his hands, calming him down. “First we’d have to haul it all the way to Iron Maw. And that’s not exactly close.”

Marcus nodded, but ideas were already spinning in his head.

After finding the way out of the dungeon, through an unassuming cave not half a mile from the destroyed elf village, it hadn’t taken them long to reach the Golf.

But Gus was nowhere in sight.

So they’d set out, hoping to track him down.

At first the drive went smoothly. But the rougher the terrain, the more often the car faltered, until finally, they’d gotten stuck there in the ditch.

---

At the same time, not far away, Gus and Caeriel were making their way back from Black Hill, exhausted, but alive.

Gus trudged through the tall grass, rubbing his grotesquely altered arm, which twitched now and then like a cursed prosthetic.

Caeriel eyed him warily. “…And you really think you can control it?”

He flexed his fingers, then nodded. “Well, of course! Handy and I made a deal. As long as we cut down a few monsters along the way, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Caeriel frowned. “…But what if it spreads? What if it takes over the rest of you? Better we let one of Haltharan’s holy priests...”

The moment she said “holy priest,” Gus’ arm reared up on its own, shaking in what looked suspiciously like a firm no.

“Uhh… Handy doesn’t seem too fond of that idea,” Gus said dryly.

Caeriel sprang back, dagger raised. “That’s it, you don’t control it at all! I’ll cut it off right here and now...”

But Gus grabbed the arm with his other hand, pinning it down. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m in control, see!?” Then he whispered under his breath, “Get a grip, man, or you’ll end up an arm without a body. You want that!?”

The arm settled down. 

Caeriel narrowed her eyes, slowly sheathed her dagger. “…Fine. But I’ll be watching it.”

Gus grinned. “Touched you care so much about me. But hey, while we’re on the subject... what were you gonna say back on the hill? Y’know, right before everything went crazy?”

Her steps faltered. “I… it was nothing.”

“Oh yeah?” Gus tilted his head. “Sounded real emotional. I was half-expecting a violin solo."

Caeriel turned away, cheeks faintly pink. “…You imagined it. Idiot.”

As they walked on, leaving behind the barren scar of Black Hill, the mood grew heavier.

Finally Gus sighed. “For real, I’m worried about Marcus. We split like idiots… Last thing I did, was give him some dumb parting shot. He’s my buddy after all. I don’t want that to be the last thing he heard from me.”

“Don’t worry,” Caeriel said softly. “We’ll find him.”

Then suddenly, laughter drifted through the trees near them.

The demon hand flared green. Caeriel raised her bow.

“Wait… that laugh sounded suspiciously like...”

They peered through the brush. 

A car sat stuck in a ditch, and inside, two figures, mud-caked, sweaty, but alive.

---

“Tell me, Bromor… are there even dwarven women?”

The dwarf frowned. “What kind of question is that?”

“Well, I’ve never heard of any! So do they exist or not? Do they have beards?”

Bromor scratched his head. “Hmph. If you really want to know, then...”

The car lurched violently.

It lifted into the air, wobbled, then landed with a THUMP back on solid ground, outside of the ditch.

Marcus’ eyes went wide. “Uh… was that you?”

“How the hell would it be me? I’m sitting right here, lad!” Bromor grumbled.

Slowly, they turned toward the window, where someone stood. 

Sweaty, battered, his arm grotesque, green veins glowing faintly.

“Gus!?” Marcus’ voice cracked. “You’re alive!”

They leapt out of the car, ran toward each other, looking ready to hug- Then both froze, coughed awkwardly, and settled for a sloppy high-five.

“Hey, whazzup man…”

“…Here you are.”

Caeriel rolled her eyes. “Men…”

Marcus’ gaze shot to the arm. “Dude, what the hell is that!?”

Gus scowled. “Forget my arm, what the hell did you do to my car!?”

“I was trying to rescue you! And don’t worry, I made a new friend who can fix the car up in no time. A real dwarf! Gus. Bromor."

Bromor lifted his hands. “I never said...”

“Details, details!” Marcus waved him off. “You first, what the fuck happened to you?”

Gus planted his fists on his hips, exhaled. “Long story short? We saved the day, killed a nasty demon general, and I…” He shoved his arm into Marcus’ face, green sparks dancing along his fingers. “…I got myself a little power-up.”

Marcus’ jaw dropped, then he forced on a poker face. “…Not bad.”

“Not bad!? Dude, I’ve got demon powers in my arm, and all you’ve got is not bad?”

Marcus shrugged. “Sure it’s cool and all. But it’s not my beer staff.” He patted his staff lovingly.

“Are you shitting me!?”

Caeriel stood by with a sigh as the two kept bickering like kids arguing over whose toy was cooler.

Bromor stepped up beside her, arms crossed.

“So you’re the babysitter, then? I thought elves had nothing to do with humans anymore?"

The corner of her mouth twitched and for a moment, her façade cracked. 

She felt the sunglasses in her pocket, slid them on as if to hide the flicker of a smile in her eyes, and replied:

"We don’t. But… I suppose I’m the exception."

Suddenly, Marcus and Gus slapped hands again. “DEAL!”

“Alright, guys...” Marcus grinned. “We’ve decided, we’re taking down the Demon King!”

Caeriel crossed her arms. “You talk like it’s that simple. Kazzander was one thing. But the Demon King is older than your races. Stronger than anything you can imagine.”

Bromor nodded grimly. “She’s right. Demon officers are dangerous, but the King himself? With a demon arm and beer magic, you won’t just blow him over.”

Silence. 

Then Marcus stepped forward, holding up his dead smartphone. “That’s why we’re going to Iron Maw! With technology from our world? We just might stand a chance!"

Caeriel frowned. “Iron Maw? Why there?”

Marcus smirked. “I’ll explain on the way.”

Caeriel sighed, but when she looked up, there was something new in her eyes. Not scorn. Respect.

“You’re insane,” she muttered.

“We know,” Gus grinned. “But maybe crazy’s exactly what this world needs.”

Bromor snorted, but a glint of approval shone in his eyes. “If you’re headed to Iron Maw, you’ll have my company. Always better to travel together.”

Caeriel didn’t argue.

And so the four of them squeezed into the battered Golf. 

Doors slammed, the engine roared, mud sprayed aside.

At last, it rumbled forward, out into the unknown.

And for just a moment, against all odds, it felt like this crazy little crew really could change the world.

                                                                                END OF ARC I

                                                                              Author's Note:

That was the first Arc of our beloved Drinking Buddies ! Did you like it so far? Do you think it's not enough comedy or maybe too much? Are you curious what happens next? Please let me know :)