“Happy is for children.” She smirked, her words paired with a dismissive gesture to encourage him to go on. When he did, she learned that he belonged to an oppressed people under the thumb of a tyrannical leader. It was the stuff of stories where she came from, where rebels of a resistance struggled to restore order to a world that had fallen into cruel hands. He lost his parents and friends, knew the hardships of real life at such a very young age. He was abused and degraded, left for dead by those who exploited him. It was no wonder he was so aggressive when it came to protecting her, even over things that barely penetrated her own toughened exterior. The slightest display of wickedness was met with violent correction. His story was as sad as it was insightful, a tale of triumph in the end. He was stronger for having gone through what he did, not that he deserved to. No one did. “A terrible story, indeed. It’s not all bad, of course. If it weren’t for you, and those who helped you, the people of your territory wouldn’t be celebrating in the streets, happy and prosperous.” She said, taking her first sip of wine since her began telling her of his life before becoming the ruler of the Void territories. She nearly forgot she had it in her hand since she was practically on the edge of her seat. “There are other Demon Lords, aren’t there?” She asked suddenly. “Are they as cruel and harsh as the one who ruled before you?” She wondered if the Demon Lords ever warred among one another, or if they were content with governing their own regions. Surely beings as powerful were not always content with what they had.