The wave of shadowy energy surged forward with deadly speed, twisting and crackling as it tore through the air. Elara raised her sword, channeling her own magic into the blade just as the dark force slammed into it. Sparks flew, and the impact rattled through her arms, but she held firm. Behind her, the rest of the Guardians braced themselves for the onslaught.
Doran, his massive shield planted in front of him, grunted as he absorbed the brunt of the blast aimed at his side. "They're throwing everything at us!" he yelled through gritted teeth, holding his position as tendrils of darkness clawed at his armor.
Henry, always precise, loosed a volley of arrows into the enemy ranks, each one crackling with a faint, magical glow. His arrows found their marks, striking the dark figures that had begun to converge on them. But for every Weaver they wounded, more seemed to emerge from the swirling mist surrounding the Nexus.