Satisfaction. This made much sense. Were his own murders all done at his will alone, perhaps he could also have said the same. As it was, he could not. It was an entirely different thing, to operate as someone else's chief executioner. The subjects were not your own to choose. There was nothing personal in it, except, save, the method. The Persian court had not hired an axman in Erik -- they'd hired an artist. An entertainer, if one were more vulgar about it.
He couldn't miss the thread of pleasure in Hannibal's voice -- the lilting rise of it at the end of his words. Erik wouldn't take that joy away by sharing his own perspective. It was nice to see the young excitement.