"My Lord."
The burning pit of death was decorated with thirteen corpses that day, while the dark-haired man stood above them, grinning down at the carnage. Yet the amusement in his eyes had nothing to do with the battle that had just taken place.
"Tell me, is it already done?" he asked his messenger.
The small man bowed his head.
"Indeed, my Lord. All the pieces have been gathered and are nearly ready to be set into motion."
The God of Destruction, the destroyer of realms, the Monarch of Chaos, and one of the Seven, threw his head back and laughed. His hand came to rest against his forehead as though he could barely contain his delight.
"This is wonderful."
His laughter echoed through the burning realm.
"I can already sense them groveling their way toward the Hall, each one preparing to present their precious arguments."
The messenger merely lowered his head, offering no further words.
He knew better than to interrupt his lord's amusement.
