Adjusting Strategy

The Demon Lord sat alone in his grand throne room, the silence of the massive chamber broken only by the distant sound of thunder rolling across the darkened skies. His towering figure seemed almost statue-like, draped in black armor that shimmered faintly in the dim torchlight. His crimson eyes glowed softly, fixed on the jagged stone floor, lost in thought.

He had no generals to consult, no assistants to rely on. The recent failures of his forces and the growing strength of the coalition had driven him to eliminate even those who once served him. They had proven inadequate—disposable. Now, he preferred solitude, where no voices could distract him from his dark machinations.