The Battle Against the Natives

The command to fire was met with an earth-shaking roar as the Elysean artillery unleashed its first volley. Cannonballs tore through the advancing Akunza warriors, sending bodies flying and shattering shields like dry twigs. The impact sent plumes of dirt and smoke into the air, momentarily obscuring the battlefield.

Then came the musket fire.

A thunderous crack rolled across the riverbank as disciplined volleys of lead ripped into the enemy ranks. Warriors collapsed mid-charge, some screaming in pain while others fell lifeless without a sound. The Akunza formation faltered but did not break. Their war cries did not cease; if anything, they grew louder.

Roux watched the chaos unfold from his vantage point atop the ridge. He had seen this before—outnumbered enemies charging headlong into musket fire, relying on numbers and sheer will to close the distance. He knew that if they reached the Elysean lines, the fight would become brutal, close-quarters combat.