"Get off!" Roland kicked his leg with a fake smile. Darian Nightblade, hanging from it like a koala, was flung back and forth.
"So everyone really was fine?" Roland was still dazed. The heavy casualties among the soldiers and commanders had made his blood rush to his head, so when he learned that everyone might have emerged unscathed, he found it hard to believe.
"Actually, there were still a few casualties. When I activated the scroll, I excluded the Orcs and Eastern Yi." Charlie Pross smiled shyly, wearing an utterly harmless expression.
"..." Everyone stiffened. Sure enough, the swindler was still the same swindler! A world where only Orcs and Eastern Yi got hurt had been achieved. Thinking of this, Roland could not help mourning the Nazgûl for three seconds. After all that effort, with such heavy losses, they had ended up trading it for a kingdom that had not suffered a scratch. Sauron was probably furious to death back in Mordor. No, that was not entirely true—they had not gained nothing. After all, a Divine Forbidden Spell restricted to Middle-earth had been used up. All he could say was that Roland might have made a killing, but Sauron had definitely not lost out! At that thought, Roland's heart bled. He had actually let Sauron profit...
No, this still feels like a loss... Roland mourned silently.
"Couldn't we have kept even one Nazgûl?" Roland asked aggrievedly. He had suffered such a huge grievance, yet in the end they had only killed some worthless Tier Sixes. Not one of the three Nazgûl had been left behind?
(Orcs, Eastern Yi: Listen to that! How rude! So us Tier Sixes aren't worth anything?)
"Your Majesty, we should quit while we're ahead!" Maple Forest Youlan walked over hand in hand with Maple Forest Binglan,