The battle raged on, a chaotic dance of steel and magic. The Ereian soldiers, driven by their love for their city and their families, fought with a ferocity that belied their numbers. Aedan, his sword a blur of silver, moved through the streets, his men following his lead. Their goal was clear: drive the demons back and buy time for their families to escape.
The clamor of battle filled the air, a cacophony that echoed off the city's walls. The soldiers' attacks were desperate but effective, and slowly, they began to gain a bit of ground. The demons, with their otherworldly powers, were a formidable foe, but the Ereians fought with the strength of their conviction. The ground trembled beneath the weight of the orcish horde, a vast, undulating sea of muscular flesh and iron. Their guttural roars echoed across the plains, a symphony of war that chilled the heart.