Ursa, the Demon King General, stood amidst the ruins of the Eldorian outpost, the air thick with the scent of blood and the acrid smoke of burning wood. His massive frame, towering over even the tallest human, cast a dark shadow across the devastation. His eyes glowed a fierce crimson, reflecting the fires he had ignited. The ground was littered with the bodies of fallen soldiers, their weapons shattered and their armor rent asunder.
He had led his forces with ruthless efficiency, cutting through the Eldorian regiment like a hot knife through butter. The clash of steel, the cries of the dying, and the roar of flames had filled the air, but now, silence reigned. Only the crackling of the fires and the groans of the wounded broke the eerie calm.