"I see... good, very good... Looks like I didn't get ripped off, after all... HAHAHAHAHA... how marvelous."
Merciless let out a haughty laugh, calm but dripping with satisfaction. He was clearly pleased with himself, and why wouldn't he be? The trade he had struck with Almagia was nothing short of exceptional.
'One half-dead Glyden for ten Absentisia.'
He mused inwardly to himself with a smug grin.
In Merciless's opinion, deals like this didn't get any better. As far as he was concerned, this was a marvelously one-sided victory.
Merciless was in an exceptionally good mood, his demeanor practically radiating smug satisfaction. Anastasia, however, couldn't quite understand why her master was so pleased with himself, and her puzzled expression made that abundantly clear.
Shifting her focus away from him, she glanced around, taking in the scene. The place was an utter hellscape, littered with the mangled bodies of dead Glyden. The stench of death and despair hung thick in the air.
