827: Alas, If There Were No Gold in the World, Everyone Could Be a Hero (Part One)

By nightfall, Brass Fortress had become a paradise of revelry. Every tavern, every casino, and every brothel in the city was packed with rowdy soldiers.

They clutched the rewards they had just received, eyes bloodshot as they shouted for the finest liquor and wagered fortunes at the tables.

They felt no guilt about it at all. They had earned the right.

They had paid in blood and death for the city's survival, so naturally they deserved to enjoy the glory and relaxation of this jubilant celebration.

The precious wealth they had earned with their lives ought to be put to good use. Only then would they honor the hardship and effort they had spent earning it—and reward themselves with the satisfaction of victory and glory.

Money couldn't buy everything, but it could eliminate most troubles. That was the true meaning of wealth.

All the money in the world had value only when it was spent. Left sitting in a pile, it was nothing but a meaningless number.

Only by understanding this could one understand the point of making money.

The feverish atmosphere drew in the frightened civilians, too. Once they learned the gnolls had been routed, the fortress was safe, and that damned warp-space siege would end at dawn, even the most cautious Brass Dwarves let their worries go and joined the victory celebration sweeping through the fortress.

The joyous uproar even drowned out the clamor that had echoed through Brass Fortress for years. In the throne room, the exhausted High Lord Hadlan could feel the heartfelt relief and delight of his people.

"Listen, Your Majesty. Your people are shouting your name. They're calling you 'King of Gold, Lord of Generosity, and Master of Wealth.'"

The king's guard, wearing a battle helm, spoke quietly to his liege:

"Perhaps you should