Time passed by in the raising of toasts, and soon afterward, the feast was over.
Bidding their farewells to Moreila and Joshua, the other dwarves took their leave, stroking their beards with satisfaction. After all, in this world, the most important thing to have between people was common ground. It was the same even for dwarves, and through this party, they had gotten to know Joshua better, as the count of Moldavia—so it had been worth making the time to attend.
Of course, no small number of dwarves, as they were leaving, looked upon the warrior with new respect in their eyes, for a simple-enough reason: for a human to be able to hold his drink so well, he was truly one in a million.
Once all the guests had left, Joshua—his face starting to glow faintly red—got to his feet.
