"Hahahahaha! Hahahahaha!"
The wild, insolent and unbridled guffaw boomed within the hall, taking all Primogens aback. Naturally, they turned to face the origin of this disturbance, and their startled eyes locked on the figure of a young man appearing to be in his mid-twenties with back-length, jet-black hairs shimmering in a unique luster that kept the eyes spellbound.
But though his intrusive laughter isolated him from both peers and temporary allies, that man's purple eyes remained unfazed, and like sparkling gems, dazzled whoever peered into them for long.
Naturally, he was Talroth, the Southern King of Hell. And though his status should have made him one of the key players of the gathering, from the beginning till now, he'd remained wholly silent, drowsy even. But as Dolgron's words ended, the spontaneous peal of his laugh echoed.
"Talroth, what are you laughing for? Please enlighten us on what here possibly sounds...hilarious."
