With the enemy magic canons silenced, the Ereian army began performing poorly in the battle. Their newfound courage to combat the orcs, stemming from those powerful guns began to wane.
On the side of the horde, the Yurakks and Rakshas pushed the enemy frontlines back much faster than before the initial clash. Their foes hesitant to continue on with the fight with the absence of the firepower brought by their magic canons.
The inferno raged, a wall of fire that swallowed the other side of the battlefield whole. Yet, amidst the blazing pyre, stood the Silver Helms, their figures unyielding. Their helms, polished to a gleaming silver, reflected the fiery chaos with an eerie red glow, their eyes hidden behind the mirrored surface.
The cannons, previously silent, roared back to life, their blasts of magical energy tearing through the air, each strike annihilating swathes of ogres with a blinding flash. The enemy's attempt at silencing the weapons had been futile.