Chapter 117: Life of the Party
Though they didn’t believe him at first and only pretended to after he bought everyone a round, after a few guys went out to check the graveyard and confirmed that the mist was finally gone, a real celebration broke out. There had been a few tentative celebrations last time when the unexplained fireball had burned away whatever it was that haunted the graveyard for a few weeks, but since no one had claimed credit, it had never been more than hope.
This news, though, spread like wildfire. Simon had just been hoping to brighten the night of the few regulars he recognized in the common room, but as word spread, the place filled up to standing room only, and he was forced to tell the story again and again.
People were feeding him free drinks for hours, and by the time he’d drunk enough to take some liberties with the truth, adding Blackheart’s wraith to the story, along with a part where he thrust his sword into its obsidian heart when the city watch’s Marshall showed up.
For a moment Simon thought that he was in trouble, but the man instantly joined in the celebrations, congratulating Simon for lifting the curse, and telling him, “The King himself will probably want to hear the story himself tomorrow, when news gets around, so I hope you’re ready to be drowned in gold!”
Simon toasted to that, but truthfully, he didn’t need any more riches than he already had, and if he was offered a fortune he’d gladly give it a way to a worthy cause. It wasn’t like he was going to start carting a backpack full of gold around with him. Truthfully the backpack would be the most important part of that arrangement, and he’d only just purchased one he liked.
He expected the one he had to last the rest of his life. That thought was enough to make him smirk as he listened to another man tell him about all the heroes who had died in the night trying to claim the reward. It was morbid humor and hardly a joke he could share, but his lives didn’t tend to be that long these days, especially not when he was coming up on the dragon level again.
Simon doubted he’d survive that one, but he hoped that this time, he could at least get a better lay of the land. He didn’t brood on that too much, though, or the premature loss of the artifact he’d destroyed. What really mattered was that he’d defeated this level cleanly, and he knew how to do it again pretty easily in case it reset on him.
Simon enjoyed the rest of his drunken evening, though not so much that he let one of the beautiful barmaids join him in his room and congratulate him personally. Maybe if the caravan guard or one of the other ladies had hit on him, he would have gone for it, but a barmaid hit a bit too close to home.
He did spare himself a lesser word of cure to remove the alcohol from his system. Only when he sobered up that he realized that this was one of the first times anyone had treated him like a real hero. Various villagers had thanked him for his help of course, but this was the very first time he’d slain a monster and there had been a true outpouring of gratitude. It was probably the best quest reward he could have asked for.