Even with one of their brethren fallen, the Crystallce moved with cold steps, unhinged by the fallen soldier. The battlefield lay shrouded in an eerie mist, the air thick with coldness.
Dhruv and the guardians stood in a tight formation, each member ready to unleash their skills upon the approaching horde of ice monsters. Dhruv, his hands glowing with flickers of fire, stood at the forefront, his eyes fixed on their every move.
Alaric, the enigmatic shadow spawn, melded seamlessly with the darkness, his form barely visible as he slowly became a black smoke, ready to disappear at any moment.
Azarex commanded his undead minions, their lifeless eyes filled with an unnatural hunger for anything alive.
And last but not least, Vexar, a soon-to-be master swordsman, gripped his blade with unwavering confidence, his muscles taut and ready for the imminent clash.
