It wasn't one sound. It was an accumulation, wood splitting, roots snapping, a groan like the mountain itself was being forced to yield. Ludwig turned just enough to see it without losing his footing.
The trees that were locking anyone with hostile intentions from going in held for a brief moment.
For that heartbeat, the ward did what it was built to do. Branches bent inward like bars. Trunks tightened. The air shimmered faintly with that disorienting pressure Damra had described. It almost looked like the mountain was about to spit the Red Orcs back out.
Then soon, the trees were ripped, uprooted, and broken apart by the following charge of the Red Orcs.
