The battle raged fiercely in the clearing, the air crackling with magical energy and the sound of clashing steel. The dark figure, a Weaver of immense power, loomed over the altar, its presence warping the very fabric of reality around it. The Guardians fought valiantly, their skills and resolve tested to their limits.
Elara, her heart pounding with adrenaline, pressed forward through the swirling mist and dark tendrils. The figure's voice, dripping with dark authority, reverberated through the chaos. "You cannot fathom the magnitude of the power we are channeling here. Your efforts are futile."
With a determined thrust, Elara struck at the runes on the altar, trying to disrupt the ritual's flow. The dark figure's laughter echoed menacingly as it raised its hand, summoning a wave of shadowy energy that crashed against her, sending her sprawling back.
"Focus on the figure!" Elara shouted, trying to regain her footing. "We need to break its concentration!"
