Negris quietly approached Brooks and asked in a hushed tone, "Do you have some kind of grudge with him? Why do you seem relieved?"
A grudge? No, no." Brooks quickly shook his head, "Impossible, I don't even know him, I'm just relieved. Luckily, humans have short lives. Barely five hundred years old and they're already close to the truth. If their lives were any longer, our Dragon clan would have no chance of survival."
With that, he cast an admiring glance at Negris, "But the ones to be most envious of are still the undead. Eternal life, ah, the Life Species, no matter how strong you are, can't escape the shackles of birth, aging, sickness, death. But even the weakest of the undead, mere skeletons, are immortal. It's so enviable."
For a moment, Brooks lost his enthusiasm to speak. The thought of dying of old age in a few millennia took away his mood.
