The chamber was alive with magic, a swirling maelstrom of energy that crackled through the air like a living thing. The shadows that had formed around the group were no ordinary foes—they were the mountain's ancient guardians, creatures born of the same primal forces that had shaped the world itself. Each one moved with a fluid grace, their forms shifting and changing as they attacked, making them difficult to strike.
Kirin led the charge, his sword flashing as he blocked the first assault. The creature recoiled, its form dissolving into mist before reforming and striking again. "These aren't normal enemies!" he called out. "They're manifestations—don't rely on physical attacks alone!"