Dimitraeus had heard about Syndar's passing the torch down to another. The fact that demons did age and die after such a long period of time was precisely why he'd been so obsessed with Jas. Simply put he wanted to even outlive that bastard Lucifer and rule all of hell. But that was the long goal. Right now he was just basking in the knowledge that he was immortal. That he wouldn't die of old age, at least. And, of course, being a general, he certainly wasn't the sort to just roll over and take shit. He was just more conniving that outright brutal.<br/><br/>His lips quirked, hiding his annoyance. No, he really didn't like the ears. Syndar severely outranked him, and he showed the appropriate amount of respect by bowing his head in acknowledgement. "It was well worth the effort," he said, eyes glinting with pride. He didn't care if others truly complimented his accomplishments. He had enough pride to smother himself in. "I heard you were retiring soon?" he said with a tilt of his head. He stopped another pretty boy as he strolled by and picked up a glass of dark red wine and took a sip.<br/><br/>It clicked then. "Is this party to be some form of announcement then?" he asked, raising his brows curiously. He had yet to even defeat the house directly above his own. There was no chance in Hell that he would take on Syndar yet. He hadn't even unlocked the full potential of his powers. There was also a reason why he had no servants or pets that lived long enough to be eyes and ears for the other lords. It would be too easy for someone to pick up his underlying plans, beyond the fact that this was sort of the nature of things. Others trying to overthrow each other, constantly.