A little earlier, Gula Plateau.
In the black night sky, a blinding mass of light suddenly shot into the heavens.
The light abruptly blossomed in midair. As it burst apart, it flashed with dazzling multicolored radiance, shrouding the entire land.
The Radiance Church's time for a counterattack had arrived.
With that radiance, the long-prepared Orcs immediately launched their attack.
Countless black shadows seemed to erupt from beneath the earth as they charged fiercely downward.
Under cover of the night, several small groups of Orcs successfully broke through the defensive line and rushed a considerable distance forward.
But before long, countless exploding Fireballs and crossbow bolts bearing fierce winds shot at the descending shadows from below and all around.
Unlike ordinary arrows, magical Fireballs and crossbow bolts could pierce iron plates and shatter stone. No matter how formidable Orcs' bodies were, they could not withstand the ravages of those two attacks.
Quite a few shadows fell at once, while even more wisely chose to lie flat on the ground.
Their nightmare did not end there. Countless Fireballs tore through the sky and fell upon them, bringing a scene of despair and terror.
"Griffin Mage Corps! It's the Griffin Mage Corps!" some Orcs shouted.
It was not only the Griffin Mage Corps. On the ground, the humans' attack began almost instantly. Armored figures darted forward at high speed, weapons dancing in their hands as they harvested the wounded and vulnerable lives of their enemies one blow at a time.
The destructive might of magic quickly revealed its terror in that night.
The Orcs' dauntingly powerful bodies burned freely amid clusters of firelight, and their miserable cries became the night's only music.
Under such circumstances, pure martial strength no longer meant much. Only magic could contend against magic.
Regrettably, the Orc race consisted