Gradually, she began to notice a pattern in their attacks. The Gloomweavers moved with a strange, fluid grace, their movements almost hypnotic. She adjusted her strategy, timing her strikes to disrupt their rhythm. Her scythe cut through the air with newfound precision, each strike landing with deadly accuracy.
One by one, the Gloomweavers fell, their forms dissolving into dark mist. Arpious pressed on, her determination unwavering. She could feel the tide of the battle slowly turning in her favor, the oppressive presence of the creatures beginning to wane.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last Gloomweaver fell. Arpious stood amidst the dissipating mist, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The darkness around her was still, the oppressive silence returning once more. She knew there would be more battles to come, but for now, she allowed herself a moment of respite.
