My Players Are So Fierce

“Payments have arrived, payments have arrived!”

In the military camp on the layer of the Brass Fortress closest to the ground which had just undergone a bloody battle, the cries of the Throne Hall Guards echoed, prompting the Brass Dwarf Soldiers resting with their weapons to stand up immediately.

They stood on a battlefield filled with the charred corpses of Gnolls, within that nauseating and foul smell, they turned back to see a four-wheeled cart laden with boxes being pushed forward.

The guards of the Supreme Lord, clad in dazzling golden armor, wielded halberds and carried firearms, maintaining the cart as it trundled over the bomb-seared rugged terrain, continuously clinking.

Just like the most wonderful sound of clashing coins, it incited an innate pleasure in every weary Brass Dwarf.

Because, that cart was filled with the wealth they yearned for.

“Bang”

At the entrance of the military bunker, fought over repeatedly by dwarves and Wolf People an hour prior, crates were lifted down one after another and thrown onto the ground.

The royal accountant, holding a ledger and wearing an extravagant monocle, bent down to unlock the box and, under the watchful eyes of the gathering warriors, flipped it open.

In the next moment, the golden glow illuminated the soldiers’ eyes.

Ample Dwarf Gold Coins were stacked in the box, with a few visibly precious gemstones among them.

The enchanting unpolished forms intoxicated every Dwarf Warrior’s heart.

Such a gemstone could buy many things at the Brass Fortress: shops in the trade zone, luxurious yet practical weapons, or stakes in a lucrative mining company for endless profit sharing, or more directly!

Buy intoxicating liquor that could drunk a dwarf to death, or several female slaves for indulgent pleasure.

In the Brass Fortress, as long as you have money, you can buy anything you desire.

Once upon a time, the Brass Dwarves weren’t like this.

They were stubborn, fierce, and honorable, and every allied warrior who fought beside the dwarves during the Black Disasters praised their courage and strength, but at some point, the Brass Dwarves changed.

While fond of fine weapons, they also began to adorn their armor with expensive items, learned to satisfy their desires with all things lovely during battle lulls, and under rigid tradition, began to relish the massive wealth they crafted with their own hands.

This wasn’t exactly a bad thing, for the emergence of consumerism indeed boosted individual proactivity to some extent, but there is a limit to everything; once crossed, even the best of things sour.

Previously, dwarves in this fortress could at least embellish themselves under the name of the Mother Earth.

But now, every Brass Dwarf knows Gaia has abandoned them, otherwise, Ratmen couldn’t have so effortlessly dug through the underground to invade their fortress and begin slaughter.

This ruthless reality drove many dwarves to breakdown, but even after breaking down, life had to go on.

Moreover, without the constraints of Mother Gaia’s regulations, many events that had to be conducted in secrecy could finally be brought into the open.

Hmm, many dwarves recently discovered amid the battle that lacking rules isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Look, the wine spiked with magic mushrooms at the newly opened taverns in the trade zone is truly exhilarating.

Frivolous venues once forbidden in dwarf cities could finally openly display business signs, and as long as you have cash in your pocket, those female or male slaves bred by Shadow Elves can surely grant heavenly pleasure after the wearying battles.

The Gaia Temple occupied the best location within the Brass Fortress; previously constrained by beliefs, no merchant dared to covet it, but now that Mother Gaia has forsaken them, that prime location naturally no longer needs preserving.

Thus, last night, as frontline battles continued, the Gaia Temple was seized by companies and transformed into a fully-featured casino for Soldier and Ironheart Warrior leisure.

Now, the most war-influencing sectors also brimmed with a “pragmatism” detached from faith.

Previously, the Supreme Lord could rally soldiers to battle under the guise of faith without pay, but not anymore!

Now, the upfront discourse is, war?

It’s not out of the question!

Being soldiers means battles are inevitable, but before commencing, we must negotiate the price with the Supreme Lord.

This operation involves risking death; if priced cheaply, doesn’t that undervalue our lives?

“Squad 117, step forward!”

Lord Hadran’s finest royal accountant was flipping through battle records, clutching a specially crafted Calculating Pearl, calculating the price, and said to the approaching Dwarf Assault Team Leader holding a battle helm:

“You have retaken the military base as agreed.

Per our previous discussion, the base battle victory price is fifty thousand Gold Coins and one box of gemstones.

One Gold Coin per Gnoll slain, three Gold Coins per Wolf Person, plus compensation for your losses.

An additional 1000 Gold for each comrade’s casualty.

This calculates to a total of 85,471 Gold Coins.

Come, verify, is the calculation accurate?”

“No problem.”

The dwarf leader cheerily waved a hand, saying:

“Before you arrived, the most brainy member of our team already tallied it up, and there’s not much difference.”

“Alright, this account is settled.”

The royal accountant was also very satisfied with this current settlement method.