Back at the rear of the Sand Palace, Zaraki and the group of the Drakhars who was with him were not having a good time. The wave of the Infested Ones threw their ranks into chaos. The rain of maggots quickly decimated their lines, with smaller shields and lower morale. It didn't take long for their lines to be broken.
If not for the timely reinforcement of the orcs and the trolls, the Drakhar's ranks would have quickly abandoned the battle. With their allies anchoring the defense, the Drakhars fought hard as if to prove that they were not useless.
It was to the advantage of the Drakhars that most of their foes were concentrated at the main entrance of the palace.
Numerous Infested Ones swarmed the main entrance. The ones blocking their advance were the 3rd and 4th warband of the horde. The orcs in their formation were blocking the advance of their new foes.
Far towards the four corners of the inner walls. The cores of the magic towers which have long been corrupted by the demonic swarm, pulsated with an unfriendly light.
The towers which have been a backbone of defense for the Sand Palace became a pillar of destruction. The corrupted cores of the magic towers opened up rifts towards the other world.
Creatures of destruction, beings of demonic origin began pouring out the newly opened rifts. The warbands which were sent to secure the towers were forced to defend themselves, as foes of the otherworld began pouring out the newly opened rifts.
"Hold your ground!"
"Don't let them through!"
"Drive them back!"
The orcish officers kept on shouting out words of encouragement towards their warriors, but it was to almost no avail. Albeit their willingness to die in battle while earning glory, the orcish lines were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of their foes.
"Pull back!"
"Towards the chieftain!"
That was the last command that many of the orcish warriors heard before succumbing to the demonic advance.
A slow but effective retreat.
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No warrior fell against the new wave of demonic forces that had arrived. Only the number of wounded which had piled up to more than a thousand. Both the Ereians and the orcish horde had no way to deal with the rain of maggots that was being showered upon their lines.
Upon their retreat, the southern gate was safely secured by the Yurakks of the 3rd and 4th Warband while the eastern gate was secure by Zaraki and those who were with him.
As an indirect help, Queen Elara and her dark elf sisters secured the western gate. Although they were still not certain on how the orcish would deal with them, they thought that being a helping hand towards them would somehow put them in their good grace.
"How do we deal with them?" that was the question that Sakh'arran had in his mind and he wasn't to speak what he had inside his head.
"They are not fearful of death... They feel no pain nor do they fear it, how are we supposed to deal with them?" Arka'garr followed up. He was at the forefront of the battle before. He had already tried his best, riddling his enemy with holes that would certainly incapacitate or directly take them out of combat, but to no avail.
"If they are immune to damage of physical nature, why don't we try something of the magical origin." Faynah suggested. As far as she was aware, there were only two ways to injure her enemies, it was either through physical or magical means. And since their foes were resistant to physical means, they should give magical ways a try, and who knows, it might be their weakness.
The city of Ishtar, which was once the center of everything within the kingdom, was currently engulfed in destruction. The once prosperous and busy streets were now filled with survivors of the previous chaos, their faces etched with fear of the previous battle.
The once magnificent looking and towering buildings which were near the inner walls, owned and run by the nobles of the kingdom lay in ruins. The rubbles of stone and wood that littered the inner streets were a dark contrast to the once outstanding structures that were layered along the inner walls.
The residents, who were at first paid no heed to the current war that their kingdom was in, thinking that they would be safe from all the troubles of the war, had their faces etched with fear and uncertainty after the mess that they have been through. They all thought, that the capital would be safe from all the troubles of the ongoing war, but they were all gravely mistaken.
The capital had become the center of the ongoing chaos, not from the war of their kingdom against the other kingdoms that was neighboring theirs, but from the war between the races. Orcs, trolls, ogres, demons and the elusive dark elves had turned their city into their battlefield.
If not for the reminder of the Drakhars who were with the orcs, many of the Ereian would have fled the city at the earliest chance that they were given. The orcs had flooded their streets, engage in brutal combat against the demonic forces which had overrun their city, from which they knew nothing about where they came from.
Luckily, the dark elves that were active the previous night had pulled away from the battle. A clash between the dark elves and the orcs would have sent many of the residents to hopelessness, as the resulting clash would have been something catastrophic, especially after the state that they were in after the previous clash of forces within their city.