Yes, the male elves were actually being fed into the machine while screaming and shouting and begging, only to be turned into piles of minced meat and organs that were then spat out into the hole.
The pit was already half-filled with a revolting cesspool of elf remains—a gruesome slurry of flesh, blood, and shattered bones.
And at the helm of this operation was Luca.
His expression was entirely neutral, as if he were simply disposing of refuse rather than ending lives.
A long stick in his hands served to push each bound elf deeper into the machine's intake, ensuring nothing remained.
Some entered headfirst, their skulls obliterated in an instant—a mercy, if such a thing could be called mercy.
Others went in feet first, their deaths drawn out as the machine slowly devoured them from the legs upward, inch by agonizing inch.
A few managed to work their gags loose in their final moments, their desperate pleas carrying across the valley.
