They were like ants in a storm, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer power of Sigurd's aura and the orc's brutal strength, crushed under their might.
'This is it! I can destroy it... This foul machine!' Sigurd's eyes shone with a silver light as she gripped her blade. A feeling of pain as she poured her magic into the blade and sliced across the horizon, creating a tremendous arc of pure sword energy.
Silver light glowed in the day—like a flash of moonlight.
Her attack tore through the enemy guards and destroyed the machines as they exploded and began falling apart. Flames and electrical flickers arced around them as the blue field began to distort and weaken.