The moon hung low and heavy in the sky, its light casting long shadows over the landscape. The specialized team, cloaked in darkness, moved with careful precision through the night, their footsteps silent on the soft earth. Each member was aware of the gravity of their mission: disrupt the ritual before it reached its zenith.
The ritual site was nestled within a grove of ancient trees, their gnarled branches forming a natural barrier around the clearing. The ground was marked with glowing runes, their eerie light flickering in the darkness. The figures performing the ritual were robed in dark garments, their faces obscured by hoods.
Elara, watching from the command center via a magical scrying device, felt a mixture of anxiety and hope. The scrying device, a magical construct of Morgana's design, allowed them to monitor the operation from a distance, but the delay in communication only heightened her apprehension.