The elder shield could hardly help the snort that came out with that challenge from his son. "Cor the Immortal has never been able to out-drink me," he informed his son. "I doubt you will. I have been engaging in drinking games since long before you were even a thought. Rarely have I met my match."

But he planned to let Gladiolus think he might win at some point. Maybe.

He scanned the wall a moment before pointing to a short, wide bottle. "Bartender, ten shots of the gold label, please." He returned his gaze to his son and shrugged nonchalantly. "As a start."