As the battle raged under the blanket of night, the elder angel elves, seasoned veterans at the peak of their powers, began to assert their dominance over the battlefield.
Their movements were fluid and precise, a masterful display of combat honed through centuries of training and conflict. Each strike was calculated, each spell cast with a deliberate force that seemed to shake the very air around them.
The elder elves wielded their holy nature skills with awe-inspiring proficiency. One grandmaster elder, his face a mask of cold determination, summoned forth a cascade of luminous vines from the ground.
These vines twisted and writhed with a life of their own, snaring the Cute Titans' elves who were still steps behind in mastery, being only at the advanced grandmaster level.
