The fight between Orpheus and the elder troll became a whirlwind of primal fury and inhuman agility. The elder swung its massive arms, each blow capable of shattering a mountain, but Orpheus danced through the storm, a crimson blur defying gravity. His black sword, now a streak of dark lightning, parried and sliced, leaving shallow wounds on the elder's thick hide.
The elder, enraged by the constant stings but unable to land a solid blow, roared in frustration. Its red eyes, glowing with a malevolent power, pulsed with a growing intensity. Suddenly, the ground beneath Orpheus shimmered.
Thick, gnarled roots erupted from the earth, coiling around Orpheus's legs, their grip tightening with a sickening crunch. Orpheus, caught off guard, stumbled. The elder seized the opportunity. It slammed a massive fist towards him, the wind whistling with enough force to tear a man in two.
