Ignorant fools were forever killing each other over gold, the King mused.
The Mad Tyrant settled backed against his throne with all the coiled tension of a snake about to strike. Idly, he dug the tip of his diamond sword into the polished gilded surface and grinned as it bit into the precious metal.
They could have the wretched stuff.
It was the blood he wanted.
And it was blood he got.
Paid for in four blocks of solid gold.