Retreating

The aura blades left deep cuts in the shield, but they couldn't break it. The shield regenerated faster than the whips could damage it, and the elf took advantage to keep pressing Treevor without caring for her own safety.

"Clothes made from the fibers of a spirit tree?" Treevor was surprised to recognize the material of the elf woman's clothing.

It was made from the same material as his right arm, though of much lower quality.

"You're right, and I'll wear you too after I kill you, cursed treant. I don't need to hold back anymore." The elf woman responded with barely veiled hatred, mistaking Treevor for a young spirit that hadn't yet set down roots.

All the elf women wailed in unison, the lament carrying an explosion of dark magic that spread in all directions.