Sheila, a pious figure in the middle row of the party, held her wood staff with a firm grip. The staff was no ordinary one. A small white gemstone the size of a fist attached to the tip, with several branches curled around the gemstone, seeming to have a life of their own.
As her words formed into beautiful words, the tip of the gem glowed with a brilliance that illuminated the icy cavern. Her body swirled with golden beams of light that amassed at the tip before she slammed it down.
"The divine star, grant me your grace—take my enemies to their resting place! Holy Smite!"
Like a god's wrath, radiant light struck down against the enemies at the rear, her smite like a blacksmith's hammer clashing against molten iron.
"Remove them from this space!"
With a loud rumble, the magic seemed to explode, crushing the weaker monsters. The divine light, like razor blades, ripped their flesh apart and filled the corridor with their anguished cries.