The battle roared around Amara as she stood shoulder to shoulder with her friends. The air was thick with the acrid scent of sweat and dust, punctuated by the clash of steel and the cries of warriors. The first wave of sect fighters charged forward, their faces grim with determination, but Amara felt a fire burning within her—a resolve that refused to be extinguished.
"Hold the line!" Kirin shouted, rallying their allies as he charged into the fray, sword gleaming in the dawn light. The sun had fully risen now, casting a warm glow over the chaos, but there was little warmth to be found among the throngs of fighters.
Amara raised her hands, channeling the energy from the Elder Tree, a glowing barrier forming in front of her. The dark figures crashed against it, their momentum halted for a moment as they recoiled in shock. She felt the power surge through her, emboldening her with every passing second.
