The demon stood there, unmoving, as if waiting for Sam's command.
It held the [Swords of Hatred], and the [Hatred Boost] made its already fearsome power even more monstrous.
It looked like a shadow pulled from the core of hell itself, a creature that existed only to destroy.
Sam studied it, his crimson eyes glinting faintly behind the fog.
'I'm guessing that if it gets attacked or receives too much damage, it'll die,' he thought. 'And I control it...'
That meant victory wouldn't come from brute force alone.
To win, Sam would have to use this demon carefully.
He couldn't afford a single wasted move.
"Can you act by yourself?" Sam asked.
The demon tilted its head but didn't move otherwise.
It didn't speak, didn't twitch, didn't even breathe.
It was like a statue of malice.
"Huh... Raise one of your hands."
He gave the order simply, and the demon obeyed without hesitation.
Its arm rose smoothly, its claws curling faintly.
