Elara's charge toward the Weaver Lord was like a spark against an inferno. The air between them crackled with dark energy, and as she neared the towering figure, the oppressive weight of its power nearly knocked her off balance. But she pushed forward, her blade gleaming with the light of determination. The Weaver Lord raised its staff, swirling with tendrils of black magic, and unleashed a torrent of energy that streaked toward her.
Elara dove to the side just in time. The ground where she had been standing exploded, sending shards of earth into the air. She landed hard, her shoulder throbbing from the impact, but there was no time to nurse her wounds. With a fierce cry, she rose and slashed at the tendrils of shadow creeping toward her.