The air crackled with the restless energy of the monstrous battlefield.
Seraphim, like an ethereal specter, floated effortlessly above the chaos.
Her movements were fluid, each step a dance in midair, as though the very wind bent to her will.
Her eyes surveyed the battlefield, calculating the position of every enemy with the precision of an ancient being.
The moment she entered the fray, her presence was like a sharp breath of wind slicing through stagnant air.
A throng of grotesque abominations surged toward her.
Their grotesque forms, a dissonance of monstrous limbs and aberrant features, gnashed their fangs and howled in fury, their eyes burning with bloodlust.
Seraphim, with a mere flick of her wrist, summoned a burst of spiritual energy, the energy pulsing with an otherworldly intensity.
With a single motion, she conjured a towering shield of translucent, shimmering energy that enveloped her in an impenetrable dome.
