Dion charged, his stone hammer blazing with golden fire, determined to strike down the abomination. But the arachnid was no mere beast; it was a cunning and monstrous adversary. With an almost casual grace, it parried his attack, as if mocking his futile efforts.
Their battle raged on, each blow Dion attempted met with swift and brutal counters from the arachnid. His strength waned, and his body bore the marks of countless wounds. Desperation clawed at his heart as he felt himself being pushed to the precipice of defeat.
Every attack that he threw was swatted away like it was nothing, driving a sense of helplessness and despair deeper into his subconscious. The more he struggled, the more helpless and futile the situation felt.