He listened to more than just to the words, but to the way they were said and the tone of the boy's voice, the order of words, trying to decipher the deeper meaning behind them. But just one thing really stuck out to him - something he supposed sounded logical, but still made Nergal stop in his tracks, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed at the young god.
"You don't think you're enough?" he questioned. "Why? Because of your age?" Insecurities aside, he was sure there was more behind that than just the influence of his follower's diminished self-worth. "Little one, I'm old - I've sacrificed my position to retain a little bit of power and in these days, so very few outside of academia even know I existed. They don't know the nuances anymore, they don't respect them. So why would you base your own worth on that of a washed-up former deity? Shit, I'm not even recognized among the workers of Hell by more than a small handful. I'm scraping by, but you - your power scares even your family. That's something to be proud of."