The cathedral shook as Noire and the death knights clashed. The air crackled with the tension, each strike a thunderous declaration of power. The death knights, their skeletal forms flickering with an unnatural energy, fought with a desperate ferocity. Their swords, imbued with the essence of death, sought to drain Noire's vitality.
Noire, a whirlwind of darkness, like an Angel of Death, met their onslaught with a counterattack that was as brutal as it was efficient. Her black sword, a phantom in the dim light, danced with deadly precision. With each strike, she aimed for a weak point, a vulnerability hidden beneath the armor of death.
The first death knight fell, its skeletal form shattering into a thousand pieces. Its essence, a dark mist, was absorbed by the cathedral, fueling the growing darkness within. Noire, without pausing, turned her attention to the remaining death knight.
