But Amon was not so easily ended.
Snarling through the pain, he slammed his free hand into the ground and activated the vine talisman.
The earth split with a guttural rumble as thick roots and tendrils erupted upward, weaving together in a frenzy. And in seconds, a cocoon of writhing vines surrounded him, sealing him away behind layers of living armor.
The arrows slammed into the barrier, their shafts quivering as they stuck uselessly into the dense mass.
One after another shattered, but none found flesh.
Inside the cocoon, Amon gasped ragged breaths, clutching his chest as the vines closed tighter around him, shielding him from her.
Amon could move at full speed again as the hex effect had dissipated, but what did it matter? His body was pierced and bleeding, his strength waning, and for the moment, all he could do was remain sheltered within his cocoon of vines.
Meanwhile, Narg refused to remain bound.
