After several more seemingly nonsensical moves, the devil king began to smile. It had come to a conclusion—Lenny was inexperienced, unaware of the true stakes of the game and the intricate devil rules that governed it. The devil king's smile widened into a sinister grin, a declaration of victory already forming in its mind.
And then, the massacre began.
The devil king launched its attack with ruthless efficiency.
Lenny's pieces fell one by one, the devil's forces tearing through them with brutal precision. It was a slaughter, so vicious and one-sided that even the old elf, despite his long life filled with dark experiences, felt a pang of sorrow for Lenny. He couldn't help but mutter a prayer for Lenny's soul, a rare moment of empathy for the man who had so confidently entered this deadly game.
