It took about half an hour for the hot lava surrounding the Citadel to be fully drained. The slow retreat of the fiery liquid was like the ticking of a clock, counting down to the inevitable confrontation. All those times, the Orcs on the other side of the shore were growling excitedly, their voices a mix of anticipation and bloodlust that echoed across the battlefield.
Inside the Citadel, the human magus was stationed on all four sides of the walls, eyes fixed on the now accessible land that lay before them. They were waiting anxiously, preparing for the final battle.
Finally, the warhorn was blown, a deep and haunting sound that reverberated across the landscape. It was a call to arms, a signal for the hordes to march. The ground shook with the thunderous footsteps of the Orc army, all moving as one.
