Cruzer's fingers tightened around the hilt of the Abyssal Shardblade, the dark hum of void energy coursing through the weapon and into his hands.
His breathing slowed, each inhale sharpening his focus as he gauged the creature's massive, writhing form.
Its chest heaved with a sinister pulse, each movement a reminder of the swamp's malevolent power.
"Elara," Cruzer called, his eyes locked onto the monster's core. "I'm going to go in hard. Cover me with everything you've got."
Elara nodded, adjusting her stance as her fingers closed around her staff, her gaze fierce. She was already charging her energy, summoning the frosty magic that lingered from their last spell.
"I'll keep you covered—just don't get yourself killed," she replied, her voice steady but laced with urgency.
Cruzer took one last deep breath. "Here we go." He whispered, barely audibly.
Then he moved.
