Fei desperately sought to parry the Orc leader's relentless strikes. Each blow threatened to overwhelm her defenses, leaving her with no choice but to focus all her energy on survival. The conjured spear in her hand, a fragile semblance of hope amidst the chaos, bore the scars of battle, its once pristine surface marred by jagged cracks and fissures. With each clash, the weapon strained against the force of the Orc leader's onslaught.
Despite the odds stacked against her, the cracks in her weapon grew wider with each passing moment, threatening to shatter under the relentless assault of the Orc leader's fury. With each strike, she felt the weight of her adversary's strength bearing down upon her, the pressure mounting with each passing second.
