《Strongest Radioactive System》


 Chapter 1: Strange World

    A persony unconscious on the damp forest floor. And a faint asional rustle of leaves above was the only sound that broke through the still silence.


    Suddenly, a voice pierced through the silent stillness.


    "Are you dead? Hmmm¡­ He''s still breathing¡­ Brother? I know you can wake up now¡­"


    The voice was insistent, with its growing louder with each call.


    Slowly, the person''s eyes fluttered open.


    The first thing he saw was the canopy of ancient trees above, with their leaves filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the ground. Immediately, he shifted his gaze, and his heart skipped a beat.


    Three towering figures stood over him.


    They were orc-like creatures with green, leathery skin and sharp ears that tapered into points. And theirrge fangs protruded from their lower jaws, giving them more fearsome appearance.


    One of them, the tallest and broadest of the trio, noticed Volk''s awakening.


    "Lok''tar Ogar!" he shouted, with his loud voice echoing through the trees.


    The person even felt a massive vibration spread through his entire being.


    Immediately, the other two orcs joined in the chant.


    "Lok''tar Ogar! Lok''tar Ogar!"


    The first orc, evidently acting their leader, stepped closer and bent down. "He''s fine, we can leave him here," he announced. "Let''s go further and hunt more earth moles to win the witch''s favor and get ourselves a wife!"


    "Lok''tar Ogar! Let''s go get ourselves a wife!" one of the orcs echoed, he was even pumping his fist in the air.


    "Lok''tar Ogar! Let''s hunt these Earth moles to get our maidens!!" the other joined in.


    The leader nodded, his expression serious.


    "Yes, the Poisonous Earth Moles were just released. There should be enough time for us to get more earth moles and find ourselves better wives. Those Poisonous Earth Moles shouldn''t have reached this area yet, because if they had, the brother over there should have been torn to pieces already."


    With that, the three orcs turned and trotted off into the forest, with their voices fading into the distance.


    However, the person stilly there for a moment, with his mind racing.


    What had just happened? Hisst clear memory was being in the street, using his wheelchair. Then, he was seized and taken to a strange ce.


    People in familiar long gown like doctor uniforms had surrounded him, as if holding syringes and other torture tools.


    Immediately, the memory of the excruciating pain as something was injected into his body made him groan.


    "Urrghhh!!"


    Volk recalled one of them saying, "Too much radiation input, the experiment subject wouldn''t make it, we need more¡­"


    That was thest thing he remembered.


    Now, he''s here.


    Not long, his head throbbed with pain, but he forced himself to move. He attempted to stand, but his legs buckled beneath him.


    Volk fell, thud!


    Fortunately, his arm caught him just before his face mmed into the grassy ground.


    As he steadied himself, he noticed a small pool of water nearby. Crawling towards it, he peered into its clear surface.


    Staring back at him was a reflection that was both familiar and alien.


    His face was now simr to the three he had just seen.


    Long, pointed ears jutted out from his head, and his skin was a deep, mottled green. His eyes, though, were still his own, filled with the same determination and fire.


    "What is this?" he muttered, trying toprehend his transformation.


    Suddenly, memories that were not his own flooded Volk''s mind.


    He saw a world ruled by Red Elves, Warlocks, and Dark Elves, Witches, locked in an endless war.


    He understood that he was now a young Hornless Orc, subservient to the Elven Rejects or Elven Witches, who were hated by other Elven races, because they were believed to be incapable of siring offspring with other Elven races, which was seen as a curse and a bad omen for the entire Elven kind.


    However, both rulers of war had an interest in the Elven Witches and the horde of Hornless Orcs.


    The Dark Witches wanted Elven Witches as material to extend their lives and the horde of Hornless Orcs as their physical ves, while the Red Elven Warlocks desired the Elven Witches for their mana control and the horde of Hornless Orcs for their transformation abilities.


    Due to desperation to escape from the clutches of both realm rulers, the group of hornless orcs that came from nowhere who have no home, and a rejected elven race that cannot repopte and discriminated by their own people, decided toe together to survive and discovered they could repopte each other.


    If a male was born, they would turn into a hornless orc, and if a female was born, they would turn into a forest elf.


    Not just that, the horde of the hornless orcs who were not sensitive to Mana would be sensitive to Mana once they form a bond to these Elven Witches, and they could get strengthened too because of them.


    As long as they help the Elven Witches to improve their ranks as Mana maniptors, they would get stronger too.


    Volk clenched his fists.


    "No! No! No! No! I don''t want to be reincarnated! I don''t want to be reincarnated!


    I don''t want to be reincarnated!"


    But then, after being convinced for a very long time that he had been reincarnated here, he managed to clear his head.


    "Do I really hate being reincarnated?" he mumbled.


    The person looked at his hands - they were normal, not overly muscr, and no longer resembling a stick.


    Although they appeared green, it was fine. His feet were okay, and he could walk using them, unlike when he was on Earth.


    "Hahahaha! I am reincarnated!?"


    Heughed out loud, an energy of madness came to him knowing the fact that he had reincarnated, where other reincarnators in the novels he read were worried, but he isn''t!


    On Earth, he was often assisted, and although he was grateful, he was tired of it all and would often leave or hide sometimes just so he could be alone!


    Now that he''s dead, at least he won''t be a burden! He hoped that they had moved on, but now, what''s important is that he''s here!


    He''s not a disabled person anymore!


    Then, Volk remembered something important from the tribe ritual ceremony of the tribe of Orcs memory - that as if he was ovee with emotion and despair, it would be toote!


    He would experience something that he experienced in his past life.


    "So right now, I need to hunt as many earth moles as I can. Sess in these hunts would earn me a Forest Elf wife, who could help me rise in rank as a warrior. And depending on how many hunts I make, would make me a more talented partner that could help me rank up as a warrior faster than others!


    "I am sure, since I have read some novels, that I know I am an Orc. Since I am an Orc, this should be a magical world. A magical world means there are spells, and regarding those spells, I am sure I can definitely find something here that can make me stronger!!"


    Soon, his head finally clear, Volk pushed himself to his feet.


    The dizziness had subsided, and a fierce resolve had taken its ce. He needed to find his way in this situation before he could think of what he should do in this world.


    Just as he began to orient himself, a sudden noise caught his attention. He froze, and then he turned his head.


    "Huh?"


    Volk barely had time to react before he saw the trio of orcs he had encountered earlier, they were now sprinting back toward his direction in a frenzy state. And their faces were contorted with fear, and he could hear their voices rang out in a cacophony of panic.


    "You idiot! We should have let the orc warriors handle these poisonous earth moles!" one of them shouted, Volk could see his eyes were wide in terror.


    "We''re fools! Now we''re running for our lives!" another yelled back, his eyes seemed to lose their hope and his breath was ragged.


    "We''re lucky to be alive! Why did we think we could handle this ande back here!?" the third added.


    As they approached Volk, the leader thrust a crude knife into his hand.


    The knife had a bone handle wrapped in animal hide, like its de rough-hewn and stained with use. "Here, protect yourself," he panted. "They areing!"


    Volk took the knife, his grip immediately tightened around the handle. He looked around at the forest, trying to get his bearings.


    The trees were ancient, and he could see their thick trunks covered in moss.


    Sunlight barely pierced the dense canopy above, as if casting eerie shadows on the forest floor but he still couldn''t see the danger they were looking out for.


    "Prepare to engage inbat!" the leader barked, trying to steady his voice despite the fear in his eyes. "And avoid their bite¡ªthey are venomous! Lok''tar Ogar! Fight or die!"


    In that split second after the warning, Volk felt the ground rumble beneath his feet.


    Rumble! Rumble! Rumble!


    He nced at the forest floor, with his heart unconsciously pounding from the fear of the unknown.


    Suddenly, ten spots around them erupted, and massive ck mole creatures burst from the earth.


    These creatures were hideous to look at as their bodies were covered in coarse ck fur.


    Their eyes were small and beady, glowing with a malevolent red light.


    However, the most terrifying thing about them is that they had enormous ws, perfect for burrowing, and their jaws were lined with sharp purple color, like they are an obvious sign of their venomous nature.


    Volk steeled himself, his mind was trying to think of actions he must do.


    He readied his weapon, prepared to fight for his life. But as soon as the creaturesnded on them, the creatures moved with frightening speed.


    One of the moles lunged at Volk, with its ws locking around him with a vice-like grip. And he felt a sharp pain as the creature bit into his neck, like its venom already searing through his veins like fire.


    His mind tried to fight back, but his body refused to move.


    The venom paralyzed his bodypletely, leaving him helpless.


    Soon, a thought entered his head, ''Is this it? Am I going to die here? If there''s gonna be a savior in this situation. If there''s no one, what will happen? Clearly, this is venom. Maybe the orcs have some kind of resistance to it, right?''


    He tried to nce at the other orcs. But they were in the same state as him, with their eyes slowly losing the spark of life.


    Panic began to spread through Volk''s entire body as he realized there''s no such thing as orc resistance to venom.


    "No! No! No! I cannot die here! Just when I got a new body, I cannot die here!" he screamed, with a sound filled with frustration, and fear.


    He screamed and screamed and screamed but his screams seemed to even draw more attention from the other earth moles.


    In a split second, they all lunged at him alone and ignored the other three, until their furry bodies covered himpletely.


    Inside, as soon as his vision slowly darkened, Volk felt their hot breath against his skin, their weight pressing down on him. His eyelids started to feel heavy, but then something extraordinary happened.


    His brown eyes began to glow green.


    Outside, the mountain of mole exploded. And the venomous earth moles were sted away from each other, with their forms hurtling in all directions.


    The three orcs were not spared and were also thrown back,nding hard in different directions of the forest floor.


    In the center of the explosion, a massive and wide titan emerged, transformed.


    It was a bit simr to the orcs earlier but this body had grown to an immense size, his muscles bulging.


    His stomach and every limb were now four times the size of a normal Hornless Orc. His skin seemed like a vibrant green, and his eyes glowed with an intense, otherworldly light.


    His face, though still recognizable and somewhat familiar, was more terrifying and filled with muscles.


    The titan looked around in anger with a growl, ''Grrrrrr'', like his voice in this new form was radiating some kind of destructive power.


    Immediately, without a warning, he let out a thunderous roar, "ROOOARRRR!!!"

 Chapter 2: Radioactive System Awakening

    The titan was Volk. He couldn''t believe the thunderous roar that had just erupted from his own mouth was his own and came from him.


    The sheer power of its shockwave alone left him stunned.


    At the same time, he felt an incredible surge of energy, but there was also an overwhelming fury boiling inside him.


    It was as if Volk''s anger was like a wildfire, consuming him entirely.


    He felt an irrational, overwhelming rage towards everything around him, like even the sound of the insects around him makes him irritated.


    He could feel his breathe in short, furious bursts, along with his chest heaving.


    Volk could see the earth moles, those venomous creatures, were scurrying back to their hiding spots, and he calmed down a little.


    "Huh?"


    For some reason, his view of them changed; they looked like rats, but earlier he was sure they the size of cows. It was baffling.


    "Why do I feel different?" Volk muttered to himself.


    Suddenly, a system screen appeared before his eyes, disying a message:


    | Ding!


    | You have awakened the Invincible and Strongest Radioactive System!


    | A life-saving system that activates at the brink of death or when the host is in full-fledged rage! |


    Volk''s head immediately went numb. He finally understood what was happening.


    A radioactive system?


    What did that even mean?


    His began to recall something that was in his past life, recalling a green, massive creature from superhero movies that transformed when it got angry.


    "Am I like that?"


    Volk asked himself, feeling incredibly bewildered.


    Cutting off his stupor, another message appeared on the system screen:


    | Ding!


    | Invincible Radioactive Mode!


    | Status: On.


    | Duration: One minute and fifty-four seconds! |


    Volk paused, staring at the time limit.


    "What?! Howe it''s limited!?!"


    But then he shrugged off the worry.


    "Doesn''t matter. I am invincible in this state."


    Heughed internally but externally, his body moved with raw, monstrous power, as if his movements caused the air around his muscles to be sucked to his muscr aura.


    Unconsciously, he roared again, sending shockwaves that echoed through the whole forest.


    "ROOAAARRRR!!!"


    As he roared, somethingnded on him with a hiss. "Psssh!" His massive body felt a little scratchy but annoying sensation where it hadnded. He looked down at his chest, then turned to see where it came from.


    Each movement, each action, seems to make the wind explode in an unseen destruction.


    "Grraargh," he growled, scanning his surroundings.


    Suddenly, he spotted the venomous earth moles.


    "YOU LITTLE SPOUTIES MAKING VOLK ANGRY!" he bellowed, as if the words were spilling out unconsciously. But at the same time, in his head, he meant every word, and along with his anger boiling over.


    He didn''t know why he talked like that, it felt so good and natural, like he didn''t care about anything but his rage!


    Again, he was hit by more of the mole rats'' spits, ''Pak!'', ''Pak!'' ,''Pak!'' each impact making him flinch and growl.


    "Grrr... rrrgghh!"


    Making his rage intensified with every hit. He felt small hot venom burning into his skin, that led to fueling his fury even more.


    "Graaagh! Arrrghh!"


    He red at the earth moles peeking from their underground hideouts, the ones likely spitting on him.


    "VOLK WILL KILL ALL YOU LITTLE SPOUTIES!!" he roared, with his voice a thunder pping of pure rage.


    Volk charged at the creatures, but they were too quick, diving back into their holes before he could catch them.


    His frustration mounted as he repeatedly mmed into the ground, making his massive form cause the earth to tremble.


    He began to think of digging them up, but he had better ideas.


    "Grrraaa... rrrggghhh!" he growled each time he missed.


    "VOOOOLLLlKK!!!"


    Volk raised his massive arms, ignoring the spits that made him flinch with each hit. And immediately, he brought his fists down with a force that shook the ground.


    "SMAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!" he roared.


    His fists mmed into the ground, creating a dent and sending cracks spreading through the forest floor.


    The earth trembled under the sheer force of his blow along with the wind explosion and a shockwave that instantly spread to the ground and the forest, and then it became silent again.


    Not long, one by one, the venomous earth moles began to surface, but with their bodies convulsing before they fell still.


    "Kaaahh!!"


    Is the sound they would make once the life out of their bodies slowly disappears.


    Volk stood there, breathing heavily, his body trembling with residual anger and adrenaline.


    The ground around him was a mess of cracks and upheaved soil.


    The forest was silent, save for the sound of his heavy breathing.


    Suddenly, another system screen would appear.


    | Ding!


    | The host has borrowed the power of rage, making the host twice stronger, faster and bigger.


    | Time Deduction: Thirty-seconds.


    | Current time duration: One minute and two seconds. |


    Volk was taken aback, the angrier he got, the stronger he became. But the duration of that form would get shorter.


    What if he got even angrier to the point he strengthened himself a lot?


    Isn''t that the same thing as being a radioactive titan for a few seconds?


    He looked around, taking in the sight of the dead earth moles. He still felt incredulous. His rage had given him the strength to destroy them.


    As the dust settled, Volk knew that his journey in this new world was just beginning.


    He had awakened something powerful within him, and he would need to learn to control it. But for now, he relished in the power and the victory.


    The earth moles were defeated, and he was still standing.


    That was enough for now.


    As long as he collects their bodies, he will have a wife on the orc tribe now.


    But then, as he was basking in his thoughts.


    Pak!


    A wet sticky objectnded on Volk''s forehead, making him stumble a little and feel a sting of pain that came from it.


    It didn''t hurt him for real, but it annoyed him and made feel he wanted to crush someone whoever did it to him.


    He looked around angrily, growling, and saw a skinless, venomous earth mole.


    It was partially underground, staring at him in the shadows. It hadn''t died!


    Volk''s growl grew louder, his anger rising. "Grrrrr!! DON''T MAKE VOLK ANGRY, skinless SPOUTY!!!" But before he could move, pak!


    The skinless venomous earth mole spit on his face again.


    With a groan, Volk wiped the stinging spit off his face, feeling the burn. Immediately his expression turned even more sour.


    "ROOOAAARRR!!"


    Volk roared, with his quaking voice that shook the trees.


    The creature, sensing his aggression, hid further underground.


    This made Volk even madder.


    With an aggressive jump, his hulking body dove to its hiding spot and began digging furiously.


    Crack!


    Crack!


    The ground splintered open under Volk''s powerful hands. He dug so fast that the forest floor rumbled, creating small hills full of cracks.


    Each movement made the ground quake and groan.


    The skinless venomous earth mole shrieked in panic below, frantically running through the tunnels.


    Volk''s anger grew with each escape attempt the mole made.


    "Grrrrr... rrrrggghh!" he growled, feeling the creature slipping away from him.


    He dug deeper and faster, his powerful hands tearing through the earth.


    The forest floor continued to crack and rumble, the disturbance growingrger and longer.


    "Roooarrr... grrragh!" he bellowed, the sound echoing through the tunnels. He could hear the mole''s shrieks getting louder, indicating he was getting closer.


    The creature faced tunnel after tunnel, each time shrieking in panic.


    "Graaargh!"


    Volk''s growl echoed through the ground as he finally caught up to the skinless venomous earth mole.


    With a powerful lunge, he grabbed its neck and squeezed it. He didn''t even feel a resistance and the mole''s body went limp instantly.


    Volk''s breathing was heavy with heat, as his body was still trembling with rage.


    He felt nothing else besides the lifeless body of the mole in his grip.


    "Grrrrr," he growled, unsatisfied with the chase''s end.


    Not wasting his time on this dump underground, he emerged from the ground with a massive jump, breaking through the earth with a boom!


    Boom!


    Volknded on a massive stone hill, the impact sending rocks and debris flying. He stood tall, his chest heaving, and roared once more, "ROOOAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!"


    The sound reverberated through the forest, a deration of his power and rage.


    "VOLLLKKK IS STROOOOOOOOOONNNNGGGG!!!"


    He couldn''t believe it, in this life, he didn''t just have a normal body, it was incredibly strong too!


    Not far from there, a shadowy figure of an orc with a weapon looked up at the sky in the direction of the roar.


    The sound was unmistakable, a sign that something immense and powerful was nearby.


    The orc squinted, gripping its weapon tightly, and started moving towards the source of the roar, ready to face whatever had caused such a mighty sound.

 Chapter 3: Stolen Battle Spoil

    Luk''Tar was in a bad mood.


    The creatures released this time were Earth Moles, notorious for being elusive to strong warriors like him.


    These moles only hunted creatures weaker than themselves, making them difficult to catch. He clenched his fists in frustration. "I need to find and capture a lot, or at least get the skinless venomous earth mole to surely win thispetition," he muttered.


    In thispetition, Luk''Tar wasn''t justpeting with his strength.


    That was his first problem.


    The challenge was designed to test not just strength but also their strategic thinking. So, the Earth Moles gave even the weaker warriors a chance to outshine him.


    "The challenge was not to be the strongest one, but to be the wisest leader. As the moles are the ones being sent, it means we have to show them who among us has the greatest strategic thinking to take that position," Luk''Tar mumbled to himself.


    Suddenly, he heard a roar.


    "ROOOAAARRR!!"


    The roar echoed through the forest, and it was unlike any he had heard before. It was deeper, more resonant than the typical orc roars.


    Luk''Tar gripped his weapon tightly and moved towards the source of the sound.


    When he reached his destination, Luk''Tar saw a massive, muscr green figure afar with no weapon. "Hmm¡­ a Labor Orc that awakened Grum-gar?" he mumbled, then he smiled in amusement. "Interesting."


    Labor Orcs in their tribe were typically builders. They didn''t possess Mana and were relegated to construction and manualbor. Only by awakening their Grum-gar form could they be Warrior Orcs. This transformation made them five times stronger, three timesrger, and granted them natural healing capabilities.


    "It seems another warrior was born from Labor Orc ranks," Luk''Tar mumbled. Though rare, it wasn''t impossible for Labor Orcs to awaken their Grum-gar form in life-and-death situations. He had seen it happen three or four times before in each awakening.


    Suddenly, Luk''Tar noticed something on the Labor Grum-gar''s body. "Skinless venomous earth mole?!" he eximed, he couldn''t help but had his eyes widening in shock. He took a step back to this incredulous scene, and his face was beyond contorted in disbelief.


    "How did he get that?"


    The skinless venomous earth moles were prized in this event.


    Their elusive nature made them incredibly difficult to capture. Although they are weak, they could dig tunnels quickly, their venom was potent enough to kill any warriors among them in this blood rite event, and their skinless bodies made them even more slippery and hard to grasp making it even more harder to capture them.


    These creatures were the ultimate test for the warriors, an ultimate symbol of their skill and cunningness when captured by them.


    Seeing the Labor Grum-gar slowly transforming back to his normal Hornless Orc form, Luk''Tar thought about what he should do. It would be disrespectful as a warrior to take the mole from him.


    Although not forbidden, it was a shameful action that would tarnish his honor. But then, Luk''Tar remembered Solluha''r.


    Solluha''r was his childhood friend. They had grown up together, sharing dreams and promises.


    They had sworn to marry each other.


    Solluha''r was beautiful and fierce, and Luk''Tar loved her deeply. But she had been chosen to be one of the wives'' trophies in thispetition because of her talent.


    That''s why he joined even though he wasn''t confident he could win her over others as some families were more powerful and cunning than him.


    However, he couldn''t help but recall their moments together vividly. They had yed in the fields, trained side by side, and shared secrets.


    Solluha''r had a smile that could light up the darkest days and augh that was music to his ears. Her determination and strength matched his, and together, they were invincible.


    Luk''Tar''s heart ached at the thought of losing her to another. He clenched his fists, with his mind trying to think of what he should do. If he took the skinless venomous earth mole from this newly transformed Labor Orc, he would surely have her in his arms.


    The thought was tempting, the prospect of finally being with Solluha''r overwhelming.


    But was it worth sacrificing his honor? He struggled with the decision. His warrior''s pride battled with his love for Solluha''r. The shame of taking the mole from someone who had earned it would haunt him, but the thought of Solluha''r marrying someone else was unbearable.


    Soon enough, his thoughts began to churned like an acid that it hurt his chest, making his heart pound heavier than usual.


    The internal conflict he was feeling was fierce. He remembered Solluha''r''s eyes, the way they sparkled with determination and warmth. He remembered their promise, their dreams of a future together.


    Suddenly, his body moved almost on its own, as if driven by the desperation to fulfill his promise to Solluha''r. He stepped towards the direction of the Hornless Orc, with the skinless venomous earth mole still clutched in the orc''s hand.


    "Forgive me," he whispered with barely audible sound.


    The heaviness of what he was about to do was pressing down on his shoulders, but the thought of losing Solluha''r somehow gave him the strength to move forward to go get what he wants.


    ¡­


    On the other hand, Volk was oblivious to the fact that someone was watching him. Once he finished roaring with all his might, he saw a system screen appear before him:


    | Ding!


    | Duration: Zero.


    | The host will now turn back to being normal, or if the host wishes, the host could stay a rampaging mindless beast. |


    Volk swallowed hard. He immediately wished to return to his normal state.


    Slowly, his body began to transform from the muscr titan to his lean, normal lean muscled Orc form. Before this, his massive arms shrank, the bulging muscles receding. His chest, broad and powerful, slimmed down, each rib and sinew realigning. His legs, tree-trunk thick, diminished, bing the sturdy limbs of his normal self.


    Finally, his feet, which had been like those of a giant, returned to their usual size.


    Once back to normal, Volk felt his whole body drenched in sweat and was still trembling slightly from exertion. He took a good look to the skinless creature in his hand.


    "With this, I would be crowned as a champion and get the best and most talented elf, and then I will be able to gain magic faster!"


    After that heughed heartily, "Hahahah! I can finally be strong!"


    Suddenly, he sensed something and turned just in time to see a crude shield approaching him.


    The shield was battered and rough, made from scraps of metal and wood.


    ng!


    The shield mmed into his head, sending him hurling in a not so far away distance. Immediately, he crashed into a nearby tree with a thud.


    With difficulty, Volk looked back in the direction the shield hade from. He saw a hornless Orc simr to himself and the three from earlier, but this one was heavily armored.


    The armor was pieced together from various sources, creating a patchwork of steel tes and leather straps.


    Volk could see the Orc''s eyes were cold and calcting.


    The armored Orc spoke, his voice deep andmanding. "My name is Luk''Tar Durghan, son of Lak''Ran Durghan. Tomorrow, you can challenge me and take this creature back, but I suggest you don''t, because you won''t be my match. You are not the only one who awakened the Grum-gar form, because I, too, have awakened it and I am far better than you, Labor Orc!"


    Volk struggled to rise, his vision felt along with his head swimming.


    Luk''Tar turned around and ignored him, dragging the skinless venomous earth mole that Volk had hunted.


    The creature''s lifeless body scraped against the ground, leaving only a trail in the dirt.


    Soon, Volk''s head throbbed. He watched Luk''Tar disappear into the forest, dragging away his prize. The pain in his head intensified, and his vision began to blur. The edges of his sight darkened, creeping inwards until all he saw was ck. His body also gave in to exhaustion, and he slumped against the tree, unconscious.


    The forest around him was silent, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.


    The sky above darkened as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over thend.


    Volky still, with his breathing shallow andbored.


    As the night deepened, the forest came alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. Owls hooted, their calls echoing through the trees. Crickets chirped in a steady rhythm, a symphony of nature. Volk''s mind was a haze of pain and confusion, but even in his unconscious state, he felt the deep sting of loss and humiliation.


    Hours passed, and the forest slowly quieted.


    Slowly, the moon rose high, casting a pale light over Volk''s still form.


    Gradually, his breathing steadied, and his body began to heal.


    The natural resilience of the Orcs worked to mend his injuries, though the mental and emotional wounds would take longer to heal.


    In his dreams, Volk saw shes of his past life, the experiments that had brought him here, and the faces of the doctors who had tortured him. He relieved the pain and fear, his body writhing as the memories yed out. But through the nightmare, a new determination began to form.


    When dawn finally broke, the first rays of sunlight touched Volk''s face, stirring him from his restless sleep. He groaned.


    Slowly, he opened his eyes, the worlding back into focus. Immediately, he stood up and opened his eyes, and with a maniacal rage, he screamed at the top of lungs!


    "You son of a biiiiiiiiiiiittttthhhhhhh!!!!"

 Chapter 4: Running out of time

    In the forest, Volk ran with all his might, with both of his feet pounding against the earth in a steady, relentless, loud and heavy rhythm.


    The trees around him were tall and ancient, and each of their thick trunks covered in moss and creeping vines.


    Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, they were casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.


    Volk ignored the air that was filled with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves, creating a symphony of nature that seemed at odds with Volk''s frantic pace.


    His face was set in a mask of anger.


    After being knocked unconscious by the armored Orc, Luk''Tar, Volk had been forced to stay the entire night in the forest. Now it was morning, and he waste for the awarding ceremony, the GharKhalmon.


    Beingte wasn''t just an inconvenience; it was a potential disaster.


    If he missed the ceremony, he would remain a Labor Hornless Orc forever.


    The significance of this event depends on Volk''s feet.


    The GharKhalmon was not just a ceremony; it was a crucial opportunity for the Hornless Orcs to prove themselves and gain the chance to strengthen their tribe.


    Without this opportunity, Volk would be condemned to a life ofbor and servitude.


    He would be unable to rank up or gain the power necessary to protect himself in this dangerous magical world.


    Most of all, he would feel the same as he was when he was on Earth! Limited!


    The trees seemed to blur as he sped past them, his mind racing as fast as his feet. The stakes were so high that he needed to reach the ce.


    In this world ruled by powerful Elven Warlocks and Dark Witches, the Hornless Orcs were vulnerable.


    They had found a precarious foothold thanks to a symbiotic rtionship with the Elven Witches, but without the chance to prove himself, Volk would be stuck at the bottom of this fragile hierarchy.


    "Thump! Thump! Thump!"


    The sound of his heartbeat echoed in his ears, mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant calls of forest creatures.


    His muscles burned with the effort, but he pushed on, driven by a mix of desperation and rage.


    The history of the Hornless Orcs shed through his mind.


    They hade from an unknown realm, lost and helpless in this magical world.


    Their salvation hade through a desperate witch who had partnered with one of them.


    This partnership had allowed the Orcs to find a new home and a means to strengthen themselves.


    By bonding with the Elven, the Orcs could gain power and provide resources in return. It was a symbiotic rtionship that had allowed them to survive.


    Remembering that without an Elven Witch partner, he would be relegated to the role of aborer, a builder, and a ve, just to survive.


    The thought of such a fate filled him with a burning rage. "I will not be aborer!" he growled to himself, his breathing in short, angry bursts.


    "YOU DAMN ORRCCC!!" he shouted into the forest.


    Suddenly, a system screen appeared before him, startling him.


    | Ding!


    | Would you like to enter your Radioactive Form?


    | Note:


    | Radioactive Form would automatically revolve every twenty-four hours.


    | After using this form, the host would be vulnerable for the time being and could perish. |


    Volk''s anger red anew at the sight of the message. He was still furious, but he stared at the screen for a long moment, weighing his options.


    The radioactive form had saved him before, but it came with significant risks too.


    As he continued running, he shook his head. "Not now," he muttered. "I''ll save it forter!" His eyes gleamed with determination.


    His feet pounded against the forest floor, "thud, thud, thud," as he picked up speed.


    The forest seemed to blur around him, the trees and undergrowth rushing past in a haze of green and brown.


    His breath came in ragged gasps, but he pushed himself harder, with his legs pumping with violent vigor.


    "Swish, swish, swish," his clothes rustled with each powerful stride. The wind whipped against his face, cool and refreshing despite his heated anger.


    The morning sun cast long shadows, but Volk''s focus was unwavering. He had a goal, and nothing would stop him from reaching it.


    With each step, the sound of the forest grew louder, the "crunch" of leaves and twigs underfoot, the "chirp" of insects, and the "caw" of distant birds. But Volk''s mind was singrly focused.


    He would reach the GharKhalmon in time. He would prove himself. He would not be aborer.


    His pace increased, each stride longer and faster than thest.


    The forest seemed to part before him, opening a path as if acknowledging his determination.


    His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, pouring every ounce of strength into his run.


    The forest flew by, a blur of green and brown, the sounds of nature mixing with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.


    Volk''s anger fueled him, driving him forward. "Thud, thud, thud," his feet hit the ground with relentless force. He would not bete. He would not fail. He would reach the GharKhalmon and take his ce among the warrior Orcs.


    With a final burst of speed, Volk surged ahead, the forest a mere backdrop to his determined stride.


    ¡­


    On the other side of the forest, the Tribe''s settlement stood tall and imposing.


    The heart of the Tribe was marked by several incredibly tall towers, their brick exteriors covered in intricate carvings that seemed to pulse with natural magic.


    The towers, resembling ancient trees, spiraled upwards, their tops adorned with enchanted fires that burned with a mystical intensity, casting a warm, otherworldly glow over the settlement.


    The towers looked like they were not just structures but living embodiments of the Elven Witches'' desire for connection to their Forest Elven origins that abandoned them.


    Below these majestic towers, groups of lean-muscled Hornless Orcs moved with purpose, apanied by their Elvenpanions.


    The Elven races varied greatly, each disying their unique heritage.


    Some had silver hair that shimmered like moonlight, others boasted deep auburn locks, while a few had golden tresses that seemed to capture the essence of the sun.


    Their eyes ranged from piercing blue to deep green and even a rare violet, each pair telling tales of ancient wisdom and magic.


    Their garments were as varied as their appearances, with some d in flowing robes adorned with intricate patterns, while others wore armor that seemed both delicate and incredibly strong.


    Scattered around the base of the towers were numerous tents, each one a testament to the merging of Orc and Elves cultures.


    The tents were made of sturdy leather, reinforced with enchanted fabrics that provided protection andfort.


    Some were simple and utilitarian, while others were adorned with colorful banners and charms that swayed gently in the breeze.


    In the center of the settlement, a massive bonfire crackled, with its mes dancing with a mystical life of their own, like it was casting flickering shadows across the ground and adding to the air of enchantment that permeated the area.


    Inside one of therger tents, four figures sat in a tense silence.


    Luk''Tar Dhurgan, the Orc who had stolen Volk''s skinless venomous earth mole, wore a worried expression.


    His brow furrowed as he stared at the ground, seemingly lost in thought. He couldn''t shake the feeling of unease that came out of nowhere.


    The memory of his ambush keeps reying in his mind, the look of thebor Orc he had challenged haunting him.


    Luk''Tar had believed it would be an easy victory; after all, thebor Orcs weren''t trained to fight.


    They were builders, not warriors. But something about that encounter felt off, something he couldn''t quite ce.


    Suddenly, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, pulling him away from his reverie.


    He looked up to see a beautiful elf with striking green eyes and long green hair. Her small, pointy nose and delicate lips gave her an appearance of sharp elegance. "What''s wrong?" she asked, with her voice filled with much concern.


    Luk''Tar reached up to hold her hand, drawing somefort from her presence.


    "Solluha''r," he began, but her gaze made him pause. He forced a smile and said, "I am fine." He touched her lips gently with hisrge finger and murmured, "Not yet, we are not one yet."


    Solluha''r''s breath was warm against his skin as she leaned in closer. "Don''t worry about everything so much," she whispered.


    "If it''s your strength, don''t feel inferior. Even if you''re not the strongest, you managed to get the sole skinless venomous earth mole. That''s no small feat. It means you have a mind for strategy, perfect for leadership. In the future, the tribe might rest in your decisions. Combat isn''t everything."


    Luk''Tar''s face briefly reflected his guilt before he masked it again.


    He knew Solluha''r''s words were meant to reassure him, but his actions of ambush were like a de piercing through his conscience.


    Just then, the p of the tent was pulled back, and a fierce looking Orc entered hurriedly. "Luk''Tar, you, and the chosen wives-" the orc would paused, "I mean wife... Should prepare. It''s almost time," he announced.


    Luk''Tar nodded, releasing Solluha''r''s hand. He stood up, straightening his posture and pushing his worries aside.


    "Thank you," he said to the Orc, his voice firm. He turned to Solluha''r, his eyes softening. "We''ll talk moreter."


    Solluha''r nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. "We''ll get through this together, Luk''Tar, you can do it!" she said softly.


    As Luk''Tar stepped out of the tent, he saw the scene outside was bustling with activity.


    He is ready!


    Ready to receive Solluha''rpletely!


    Ready to face his future!


    A future that he forcefully took from his fellow tribe member.

 Chapter 5: KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!

    Luk''Tar stood amidst the grandeur of the ceremony, with the towering brick structures of the Tribe casting long shadows in the morning light.


    The enchanted fires atop the towers flickered in his eyes, as if their glow were intensifying the magic that was blended with the wind.


    He could feel an eagerness amongst everyone, like a hum of energy that was flowing through all around the gathered Orcs and Elves.


    Suddenly, a woman''s voice rang out over the crowd and Lu''Tark''s ear, as if it were echoing through the towering structures.


    "Wrrraaak! Today, we honor the warriors who have returned victorious!"


    Her voice sounded very powerful, almost as though it were reverberating with the highest authority.


    "First, we have Uru''kar," she paused, waiting for the tension to build, and she felt it was enough, "who has in six venomous earth moles!"


    The crowd erupted in a cacophony of cheers, resembling the sound echoing through the forest like a thunderp.


    "Raaaargh!" they roared, their voices mingling in a powerful symphony of approval.


    "Next," the woman continued, her tone now building obvious suspense, "we have Bra''gorn," she paused again, "who has in eight venomous earth moles!"


    The crowd''s response was even louder, a deafening roar that seemed to shake the very ground they were standing on.


    "Rooaaarrr!"


    Lu''Tark felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw a fellow Orc, with a stered wide grin on his face.


    "How many partners do you wish to take?" he asked with his voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.


    Lu''Tark nced over to the tent where Solluha''r stood. Her green eyes met his, and they were now looking at each other, soon enough, her lips parted and formed a cheerful smile.


    "I only need one," he replied, his voice was incredibly firm when he said this. "And that is Solluha''r."


    Solluha''r stepped out of the tent, her presence couldn''t help but radiate an obvious grace and strength.


    She walked over to Lu''Tark, with her smile widening on her face as she took his hand.


    The hornless Orc who had spoken to him nodded, "Alright, follow me," and he led them toward the center of the ceremony.


    Suddenly, the announcer''s voice boomed again, capturing everyone''s attention including Lu''Tark and Solluha''r.


    "Wrrrrraaak! Now, wee to the most extraordinary achievement. The yer of the skinless venomous earth mole!"


    The crowd''s tone shifted, one could hear an undercurrent of excitement and awe threading through their voices as they cheered.


    "Champion!" "Champion!" "Champion!" "Champion!" "Champion!" "Champion!"


    "To kill a skinless, venomous earth mole," the announcer continued slowly, as if savoring each word, "is a feat of unimaginable skill and bravery. These creatures are far more elusive and deadly than their venomous counterparts, and their skinless bodies make them tougher and more resistant to attacks, making them harder to catch.


    To face one, corner it, and emerge victorious is to be among the greatest of our warriors!"


    As the announcer finished, the crowd''s anticipation reached a fever pitch, their voices rising in a wave of thrumming sound.


    "Roooooaaaaaaarrr!" they chanted.


    Lu''Tark, watching and hearing all this beside Solluha''r, couldn''t help but feel an incredible amount of gratitude.


    However, guilt slowly built up in his head, and to avoid this, he shook his head and forced himself to step forward, immediately silencing the crowd.


    The announcer''s voice rang out again, "Luk''Tar Durghan! Our champion of this year! The earth mole king catcher!" His name seemed to reverberate through the assembly of the crowd. "And he has chosen only onepanion, the ever beautiful Solluha''r!"


    When all was dered, the tribe erupted in cheers once more, and the sound of their cheer was so powerful, almost reaching the sky as a testament to their approval.


    "Raaaargh! Raaaargh!"


    Luk''Tark smiled and waved his hands.


    The cheers that were supposed to make him feel even more proud of whatever he had done was making even more guilty, but he swallowed his saliva and his pride.


    The announcer''s voice continued, "Despite having the right to choose two more wives, he has chosen only one! What a faithful warrior! What a faithful future leader! And now, to let this ceremony bepleted, let the two be one!"


    Luk''Tark and Solluha''r faced each other, with their movements slow and deliberate, as if they wanted to enjoy every moment.


    Both of them eventually reached out, with their hands gently cupping each other''s faces.


    Their eyes were locked, as if there was a silentmunication passing between them as one already. And as they held each other, a phenomenon began to unfold.


    Leaves began to rustle around them.


    It was as though the air was caught in a mystical wind that circled their bodies.


    mes danced in the air, making both their bodies feel warmth from each other''s presence alone, wrapping around the two of them as one.


    The ground beneath them seemed to hum with friendly energy, resonating with the magical moment.


    Their chests began to glow, with a soft light emanating from within.


    Lu''Tark and Solluha''r nodded at each other, their eyes meeting. Finally, they were going to be one - the moment they had been waiting for ever since they were children.


    "I never thought this moment woulde," Solluha''r softly said, making Lu''Tark guilty, but he only smiled on the surface to hide it. "I will do anything for you," he whispered back.


    Just as the ceremony reached its crescendo, a voice suddenly cut through the phenomenon like a knife.


    "Thief!! Ambusher!! You have no honor!!"


    The cry was filled with nothing but anger.


    "That damned bastard stole my skinless venomous earth mole! I came here to challenge him to a duel!"


    The words were like thunder rumbles, a stark opposite to the harmony of the ceremony.


    "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!! KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!!"


    Everyone froze, the entire assembly falling into an exaggerated pause.


    All eyes turned to the source of the interruption.


    It was an unknown Labor Orc; they could see his face twisted in indescribable rage and determination.


    He stood at the edge of the gathering, with his chest heaving in an exaggerated manner as if he ran for a thousand miles as he caught his breath.


    "Wrrraaaakkk!" he screamed again. "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!!"


    The words "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!!" rang through the clearing like a battle cry, it reverberating off the towering stone structures while shaking the leaves on the trees that were scattered to the whole ce beside the towers.


    In the horde of Hornless Orcs and Elven Witches, this was the word that sealed destinies.


    It meant a challenge, a duel to settle disputes in the only way Orcs knew¡ªthrough raw, primalbat.


    The Tribe had used it for centuries to resolve conflicts, to prove one''s strength, or to im what was rightfully theirs.


    The rules were simple: the stronger Orc won, and the loser had to ept the consequences, whether it was death, dishonor, or exile.


    In the past, it was called Mak''Gorah, but an unknown spell prevented them from using the word Mak''Gorah, probably due to the origin of the hornless Orc tribe.


    So, they created a version of themselves called KORNUUM DRHAKAR!


    Volk stood at the edge of the assembly, with his muscles tense, and his breath ragged with fury.


    The scene before him was a mockery, like a cruel twist of fate.


    The crowd''s roars of approval for Luk''Tar, the warrior who had stolen his prize, filled him with a burning rage.


    How dare they celebrate him?


    How dare they cheer for the thief while he, Volk, had been left for dead?


    If it wasn''t for him being powered by radiation, he would have been left and wouldn''t have received a wife!


    In this one in a lifetime chance, he would''ve missed it!


    He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, his vision narrowing to a tunnel of anger that focused solely on Luk''Tar''s smug face.


    You will pay for it!


    You will pay for it!


    He clenched his fists hard, and he didn''t care if his nails were digging into his palms as he tried to rein in his temper. But it was no use.


    The anger he could feel in his chest boiled over like a hot breath, spilling out of him in a guttural roar.


    "Uraaaa!!! KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!!"


    The words erupted from his throat with a force that seemed to shake the very ground beneath him.


    "ept my challenge, you coward!!!" he bellowed, his voice thick with rage and desperation. "ept my challenge, scum! Thief!!!"


    Hearing this, the crowd fell silent, their previous cheers fading into a shocked murmur.


    They looked at Volk, with their eyes wide with disbelief.


    A Labor Orc?


    Issuing a challenge?


    It was unheard of.


    Labor Orcs were not warriors; they were the backbone of the Tribe, the ones who built, who toiled, who did the work that others couldn''t¡ªor wouldn''t¡ªdo.


    They were strong, yes, but not in the ways that mattered inbat.


    Theycked the training, the skill, the bloodthirsty instinct that defined a true warrior. And yet, here was one, shouting for a duel as if he belonged among the elite.


    Volk could see the doubt in their eyes. He couldn''t help but sneer!


    They didn''t believe him. They thought him mad, delusional even. And why wouldn''t they?


    To them, a Labor Orc capturing a skinless venomous earth mole was as likely as a mouse taking down a lion. It was impossible.


    But Volk knew better.


    In the fragmented memories of the body he now upied, he found a term¡ªGrum-gar form.


    It was simr to the radioactive transformation. He will use it!


    Soon, his body started cracking!


    It was slow, he immediately felt an agonizing process as his body twisted and morphed into something stronger, something more terrifying.


    His muscles began to bulge, straining against his skin as they grewrger.


    His bones cracked and reformed, expanding to support the massive frame he was bing.


    The transformation crawled up his limbs, his arms thickening, his chest broadening. His veins pulsed with energy, glowing faintly as they pumped more green blood through his rapidly expanding body.


    Finally, the change reached his feet, his toes curling and elongating into powerful ws that dug into the earth beneath him.


    Volk could feel every inch of him radiated power, an unstoppable force that was only just beginning to show itself.


    The air around him seemed to vibrate, releasing small shockwaves unseen to the naked eyes, and the crowd watching were now stunned into silence as Volkpleted his transformation.


    Then, with a final surge of energy, Volk threw his head back and let out a roar that split the sky.


    "ROOOOOOAAARRRRRRRR!!!"


    Volk roar wasn''t just challenging Luk''Tar anymore. He was challenging the entire Tribe, demanding that they see him not as a Labor Orc, but as a true warrior.

 Chapter 6: VOLK, THE STRONGEST OF THEM ALL

    Volk''s eyes narrowed as the system screen blinked before him.


    | Ding!


    | Mission: Get yourself a Nuclear Reactor Vessel!


    | Reward: Radioactive Ability in the normal orc form and in Gamma Radioactive form.


    | Failure: A minute of Radioactive form duration reduction. |


    Volk''s face twisted into a savage confusion.


    "What is a nuclear reactor vessel?" he mumbled. "Isn''t that a thing that contains nuclear energy? How am I supposed to find that?"


    However, he would just shake his head, his focus for now was to get a wife to establish a symbiotic rtionship with at least one of the elves so he would be aware of Mana once he pair bonded with one. And for now, he had to deal with the current situation to get that bond with a random witch elf.


    But as the thought of his near-failure in his head was caused by Luk''Tar¡ªknowing that if he hadn''t arrived in time, he would have lost the chance to prove himself andplete the mission¡ªhis fury immediately reignited.


    He could almost feel the sting of loss, the bitterness of missing out on the reward he could use in the future in his normal form, where he didn''t need to go titan green, making him want to smash this hornless Orc into pieces.


    With a roar that shook the earth, Volk mmed his fist into the ground, sending a shockwave through the soil.


    "ROOOAAARRRR!!" he bellowed, his voice seemed to send shockwaves of solide wind through the clearing, causing some random small birds to take flight in panic.


    "VOLK WANTS TO SMASH THIEF! VOLK ISN''T LYING! VOLK NEVER LIES!"


    His roar was deafening, like a guttural scream of rage and frustration from the abyss of hatred.


    His muscles rippled under the strain of his transformation, his skin glowing faintly with the eerie green light of his radioactive form.


    The ground beneath him even cracked and splintered, it was though the earth was unable to withstand the force of his uncontroble fury.


    Around him, the crowd began to murmur.


    At first, the whispers were doubtful, questioning how could a Labor Orc im that he caught the skinless venomous earth mole, but as they watched Volk''s Grum-gar form continue to grow more and more imposing, their voices immediately shifted from disbelief to something more hesitant, and even almost fearful.


    "Did you see that? He''s in Grum-gar form, just like the warriors."


    "How could a Labor Orc do that? I thought only trained warriors could ess it."


    "It''s not rare, some even transformed into their Grum-gar form, yesterday."


    "Maybe¡­ maybe he''s telling the truth about the mole. No ordinary Labor Orc could transform like that, only those who have warrior blood on them."


    Volk heard every word. His sharp ears picked up the conversations from all sides, feeding into his growing confidence.


    The crowd was beginning to doubt Luk''Tar, to believe in Volk''s strength, and that only fueled his rage further.


    He was no longer just a Labor Orc in their eyes.


    He was a force to be reckoned with, a true contender for the honor that Luk''Tar had stolen from him.


    On the other side of the clearing, Luk''Tar''s eyes widened in shock.


    ''Did he just transform at will?''


    He hadn''t expected this.


    It was difficult to grasp the ability to transform into their Grum-gar form, as it often took months to ess it, but this one...


    He had easily achieved it!


    However, Luk''Tar shook his head. This orc seemed overwhelmed by emotions, which may have been the reason he was able to transform this time.


    Luk''Tar would not feel fear. Not from a Labor Orc.


    But then, he paused.


    The thought that Volk could ess the Grum-gar form fast enough was unsettling, but more than that, it was dangerous.


    If Volk could do this, then he could use the Tribe''s ancient magic to expose the truth, to reveal Luk''Tar''s lie. His honor, his reputation, everything he had built could crumble in an instant.


    Luk''Tar''s jaw tightened, and he forced himself to remain calm. He couldn''t let his fear show. Stepping forward, he met Volk''s furious gaze with a calm, calcted stare.


    "I don''t know who you are," he began, his voice steady and firm, "but you''re the one who betrayed me back then, together with the other Labor Orcs, and then tried to stab me in the back. You''re lucky I even spared you. And do you really think you''re the only one who can ess Grum-gar form? I and the others can too."


    The words were like a deration of eptance, Solluha''r on the side couldn''t help but feel worried, "Luk''Tar," she whispered but the air around Luk''Tar already changed as he began his transformation.


    His body shuddered as it started to expand, muscles bulging grotesquely beneath his skin.


    His arms thickened, veins popping out as his hands turned into deadly ws.


    His chest heaved as it grew broader, his torso bing a wall of muscle and sinew.


    Every inch of him pulsed with raw power, but unlike Volk, there was no eerie green glow in his eyes.


    He was a warrior through and through, honed and trained for battle.


    His transformation was slow, methodical, each movement deliberate and controlled.


    The crowd watched in stunned silence as Luk''Tarpleted his transformation.


    His massive form towered over them, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of his heavy breathing.


    Then, with a thunderous voice that shook the very ground, Luk''Tar bellowed, "I ept!"


    "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!"


    His roar echoed through the forest, bouncing off the towering stone structures and amplifying in volume.


    "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!"


    The crowd gasped.


    This was unexpected.


    Luk''Tar could have denied the challenge. He was the winner of the event; he didn''t need to prove himself further.


    He could have dismissed Volk as a madman, a liar, and walked away with his prize. But he didn''t.


    "What is he thinking?" one Orc whispered.


    "He could just walk away, but he''s epting the challenge?" another murmured.


    "He''s risking it all just to fight a Labor Orc?"


    Luk''Tar ignored the whispers, his eyes locked on Volk.


    He had to do this.


    He had to silence the nagging guilt that had gued him ever since he stole the skinless venomous earth mole.


    The ufortable feeling that gnawed at his conscience, the sense that he had done something wrong, something dishonorable.


    Maybe, just maybe, if he defeated Volk inbat, that feeling would go away. Besides, he was confident in his abilities.


    He had trained for years in this form.


    Volk was just a Labor Orc who had only recently essed his Grum-gar form. There was no way Volk could match him inbat.


    Volk, however, was unfazed by Luk''Tar''s transformation.


    His eyes zed with fury, the green glow of his radioactive form burning brighter as his anger intensified.


    He could feel the power surging through his muscles as every single one of it tightened, the raw, unfiltered energy that threatened to devour him. But he didn''t care.


    All that mattered was taking down the Orc who had stolen from him, who had left him to die.


    With a primal growl, Volk lunged forward, his massive fists aimed directly at Luk''Tar.


    "VOLK HATES LYING THIEF!!" he roared, his voice a thunderous bellow that sent shockwaves through the crowd.


    Luk''Tar watched as Volk charged toward him with a furious intensity, his massive fists seemed so obvious that he would just swing them wildly.


    There was no strategy, no calcted moves¡ªjust raw, unbridled rage.


    Luk''Tar''s lips curled into a sneer.


    This was almost too easy. Volk was nothing more than a Labor Orc who had only recently discovered the Grum-gar form.


    Luk''Tar had been training forbat his entire life.


    With a calm breathing, Luk''Tar discarded his weapon, tossing it aside as if it were nothing. He didn''t need it. He was confident in his strength, confident in his fists.


    As Volk closed the distance between them, Luk''Tar swung his massive arm, and immediately, his fist connected with Volk''s head with a sickening THWACK!


    The impact was so forcefully violent that Volk''s body whipped backward, and with a powerful m, Luk''Tar drove Volk''s head into the ground, the earth shattering beneath the blow.


    CRUNCH!


    The sound of rock and soil splitting echoed through the clearing.


    Before Volk could even register the pain, Luk''Tar was on him again, his fists pounding down like hammers.


    BAM! BAM! BAM!


    Each strike shook the ground, sending tremors through the earth that rippled outward.


    Volk''s growls of pain were drowned out by the relentless THUD! of Luk''Tar''s fists colliding with his skull.


    Each punch was harder than thest, each one driving Volk deeper into the ground, as if Luk''Tar was trying to bury him alive with sheer brute force.


    "URGH!"


    Volk grunted, trying to push back, but the blows kepting.


    Every time he tried to move, or where he tried to retaliate, Luk''Tar''s fist would hit him with crushing force. His body screamed in agony, his bones rattling under the relentless assault.


    In time, the world around him started to go blur, the edges of his vision darkening with each devastating hit.


    Through the haze of pain, Volk could hear the voices of the other Orcs around him, their mocking tones cutting through the air like knives.


    "What was he thinking?" one Orc scoffed. "A Labor Orc challenging a warrior trained from birth?"


    "He just learned to ess the Grum-gar form," another voice sneered. "And he thinks he can take on someone like Luk''Tar?"


    "And this one here?" a third voice chimed in with a mockingugh.


    "He''s iming he caught the skinless venomous earth mole? That''s a joke! Everyone knows only the strongest could even get close to that thing!"


    Theirughter rang in Volk''s ears, to him they were loud and cruel.


    They didn''t believe him. They didn''t believe he was strong enough, capable enough.


    To them, he was still just a Labor Orc, destined to fail, to be crushed beneath the heel of someone stronger.


    THUD!


    Another punchnded, but something inside Volk snapped. His anger, already a raging inferno, red even brighter.


    His vision, once blurred by the pain, began to sharpen, and the mocking voices faded into the background, reced by the pounding of his own heartbeat.


    His eyes, glowing with the unnatural green light of his radioactive form, burned even fiercer, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.


    Luk''Tar, noticing the shift in Volk''s expression, hesitated.


    The Labor Orc should have been unconscious by now, beaten into submission. But Volk wasn''t going down.


    Instead, he was ring up at him, his eyes zing with an intensity that sent a shiver down Luk''Tar''s spine.


    THUD!


    Luk''Tar delivered another punch, but this time, Volk didn''t budge.


    His head didn''t m into the ground. Instead, he remained upright, his gaze locked onto Luk''Tar.


    Confusion flickered in Luk''Tar''s eyes. His fist still connected with Volk''s skull, but it was as if the Labor Orc had be an immovable object.


    With a sudden, bone-crushing grip, Volk''s hand shot up and mped around Luk''Tar''s wrist.


    The force of the grasp made Luk''Tar wince, as if his confidence wavering for the first time immediately.


    This wasn''t right. This Labor Orc wasn''t supposed to be this strong, wasn''t supposed to be able to fight back.


    Volk''s lips curled into a snarl, his voice low and menacing. "VOOOOOOOLLKKK," he growled, his words dripping with fury and defiance.


    The ground beneath them trembled as Volk''s power surged, his muscles swelling with the force of his destructive rage.


    "IS THE STRONGEST-" Volk roared, with his voice already echoing through the clearing with the force of a thunderp, he will add, "OF THEM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLL!!!"


    With a sudden, explosive movement, Volk flung Luk''Tar away from him, sending therger Orc hurtling through the air.


    CRASH!


    Luk''Tar''s body collided with a tent, the sturdy fabric were torn apart as the force of the impact ripped the tent poles from the ground.


    Until the whole structure crumpled under the weight, copsing in on itself as Luk''Tar tumbled through the debris.


    Meanwhile, the sound of wood splintering and fabric ripping filled the whole silent ce, the once-majestic tent now reduced to a heap of wreckage.


    Luk''Tar slumped to the ground amidst the ruins, dazed and disoriented.


    The breath had been knocked out of him, and he struggled to regain hisposure, blinking through the dust and debris that swirled around his eyes and nose.


    Meanwhile, Volk stood tall, his chest heaving with each breath, and his eyes were still glowing with an unnatural green light.


    The ce and crowd fell silent, their mockingughter earlier were now reced with shock.


    It was clear.


    No one had expected this.

 Chapter 7: VOLK SMAAAAASH THIEF!

    | Ding!


    | The host has borrowed the power of rage, making the host twice stronger, faster and bigger.


    | Time Deduction: Thirty-seconds.


    | Current time duration: Fifty-seven seconds. |


    Volk looked at the screen, he then stood tall proudly, proudly making his massive figure cast a shadow that stretched across the battlefield.


    His muscles bulged and contorted with pure, unadulterated strength as his fists clenched tightly.


    The energy within him was like ava, it was hot, and it was as if he was a volcano on the brink of eruption.


    Volk could feel that every sinew of his body was taut and concentrated with power, ready to unleash devastation upon his opponent.


    His eyes, glowing with an eerie green light, bore into the heavens above as he let out a thunderous roar that shook the very earth beneath his feet.


    "VOOOOOLK, IS THE STRONGEST THERE IS!!!" His voice boomed, echoing off the surrounding towers and trees. "NO ONE STRONGER THAN VOOOOOLLLKK!!"


    The force of his deration was enough to send shivers down the spines of those who watched, both Orc and Elven Witch alike.


    The sheer power radiating from Volk was overwhelming, that they could even feel the wind''s shockwave mmed to their faces.


    Even the ground beneath him trembled with every word, as if the earth itself was bowing to his incredible might.


    Luk''Tar, still reeling from the earlier encounter, staggered to his feet.


    Even though he tried not to ept this, he could feel his body shaking uncontrobly. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Volk, now even more imposing than before.


    How had this Labor Orc, who had been beneath his fists just moments ago, resisted his blows?


    How had Volk not only withstood his punches but grown stronger?


    His thoughts began to swirl of denial as he tried toprehend what was happening.


    Suddenly, his muscles ached, a sharp pain shooting through his arms. He nced down and noticed his hands trembling, the pain radiating through his arm was from the part where Volk had gripped him earlier.


    Immediately, Luk''Tar''s gaze flickered back to Volk, who now appeared evenrger and wider, his Grum-gar form towering before him like a living mountain of muscle and rage.


    What is happening? Isn''t he smaller than my Grum-gar form earlier?


    Suddenly, the murmurs of the surrounding Orcs and Elven Witches reached his ears, with the disbelief and awe in their shock voices.


    "Did you see that? His form has grown!"


    "How is this possible? He''s just a Labor Orc!"


    "His Grum-gar form¡­ it''s twice as big now¡­"


    "What kind of creature is this Volk?"


    "Luk''Tar''s in trouble¡­ He''s never faced anything or seen like this."


    "No, not just Lu''Tark, we also have never seen an Orc like this!"


    Luk''Tar''s heart pounded in his chest as he absorbed the murmurs, and an unknown fear was born and was growing rapidly with each word. Because of that, he realized something. This wasn''t just a duel anymore; it was a fight for survival!


    He nced at his discarded weapons, with his mind thinking of the rules and honor of the Orc tribe.


    In a KORNUUM DRHAKAR duel, Orcs were allowed to use weapons¡ªit was, after all, a life-and-death battle. Perhaps he should¡­


    Before he could finish the thought, Volk let out another deafening roar. "TIIIIME!!" His voice shook the very air around them as if he sucked them all in violently. "FOOORR VOLK TO SMASH THIEF!!!"


    Without hesitation, Luk''Tar dove toward his discarded sword and shield. He didn''t care if muscles were still strained as he scooped up the spear.


    With a quick desperation, he grabbed the shield, feeling its sturdy frame offering a sense of protection. He immediately assumed a defensive posture, crouching low with his shield raised and sword poised to strike.


    His breath came in ragged gasps as he stared at the behemoth that was Volk.


    "Ha," "Ha," "I can do this," he mumbled to himself.


    But Volk didn''t care. With a guttural growl, heunched himself at Luk''Tar. Making the ground beneath him trembled with each step, and the air vibrated with his roar. "GRAAAAA!!!"


    Luk''Tar barely had time to react. He thrust his spear forward, aiming for Volk''s chest. The weapon struck with a resounding CLANG!¡ªbut it didn''t pierce.


    The spearhead merely nced off Volk''s chest, as if striking solid rock.


    Luk''Tar''s eyes widened in shock, his mind immediately struggling toprehend how the spear had failed.


    However, before he could think further, Volk was upon him.


    With a fierce growl, "GRAAAAAA!!," Volk''s massive hand shot out, grabbing Luk''Tar''s arm with a vice-like grip.


    Luk''Tar''s heart skipped a beat as he felt the overwhelming destructive strength in Volk''s grasp, he could even feel some of his bones creaking under the pressure.


    "GRAAAAAA!!!"


    With a roar, Volk pulled Luk''Tar toward him and smashed his head into Luk''Tar''s face.


    BANG!


    The impact was bone-shattering, sending a shockwave through Luk''Tar''s skull.


    The sound echoed through the clearing as Luk''Tar''s body was flung backward, crashing into the ground with a heavy thud.


    Green blood spattered from his nose, eyes, and mouth, staining the earth beneath him.


    Hey there, dazed and barely conscious, he could feel his vision swimming somewhere. And every single fiber of his being were screaming in pain, but he forced himself to stand, albeit shakily. When he did, his legs wobbled beneath him as he wiped the blood from his face with a trembling hand. Through the haze of pain, he muttered to himself with disbelief. "Just what creature is he!?"


    His question was answered by the sight of Volk charging at him again, his massive form filling Luk''Tar''s vision.


    "GRAAAAAA!!!"


    Volk''s roar tore through the air as he leaped into the air, both feet aimed directly at Luk''Tar''s chest. Lu''Tark has no choice but to raise his shield.


    BANG!


    The force of the impact was unimaginable. The shield was obliterated instantly, like an egg. This connected Volk''s feet with Luk''Tar''s chest with the power of a battering ram, spilling Volk''s body with a sticky blood and sending Lu''Tark flying through the air.


    Soon, his body tumbled over and over, with a trail of dark green blood marking his path as he crashed and rolled into the ground, before skidding to a halt several feet away.


    Meanwhile, Volknded with a thunderous crash, the ground quaking beneath him as he stood tall.


    His eyes zed with a fierce, unrelenting light as he gazed upon the fallen form of Luk''Tar, who nowy motionless in the dirt.


    The surrounding Elves and Orcs were silent, they feel like if they talk now, Volk would attack them too.


    Not caring where he was, Volk threw his head back and roared to the sky, "VOOOOOLLLK SMAAAAASHHH THIEEEEFFFFF!!!" "VOODOOLLKK IS THE STRONGEST THERE IS!!!"


    Volk stood tall, his massive figure towering over the majority, his chest not even heaving with exertion but with satisfied rage. He had won. The thief Luk''Tary defeated, flung like a ragdoll across the opposite direction.


    "ROOOAAARRR!!"


    He bellowed again, with a thunderous voice that seemingly dered his dominance. He roared repeatedly, each one more ferocious than thest.


    But as Volk continued to unleash his triumphant cries, something unknown began to shift in the atmosphere.


    The surrounding Orcs and Elves, who had been stunned into silence, with their eyes wide with disbelief at the spectacle before them, now began to stir.


    Slowly, they snapped back to reality.


    Their initial shock transformed into something else¡ªsomething unspoken, yet understood among them.


    They exchanged nces, sending a silentmunication passing between them, and then formed a collective decision.


    One by one, they nodded at each other, their mutual understanding was as fast as lightning when it took root.


    The Elven Witches, with their ethereal grace, and the Orcs, with their imposing strength, moved toward Volk''s direction.


    Their approach was slow, almost hesitant, but there was a growing resolve in their movements that they needed to do this.


    Volk, still roaring mightily, noticed the shift in the air. His instincts kicked in, and he stopped mid-roar, his glowing green eyes narrowing as he watched the group approach.


    "Grrrrr¡­"


    A low growl rumbled in his throat, right away, his muscles tenses, ready forbat.


    Were they here to challenge him? Volk is not scared.


    But before he could act, one of the Orcs stepped forward, on the spot, he shouted with his voice booming across the clearing, "Hail! The KORNUUM DRHAKAR winner and the new Champion, Volk!" and he repeated, "Hail! The KORNUUM DRHAKAR winner and the new Champion, Volk!"


    Volk''s radioactive form faltered for a moment, taken aback by the deration. The glow in his eyes flickered as he processed the words. "VOLK? CHAMPION?" he growled, his loud voice filled with confusion.


    The Orcs and Elves, their voices now blending together in a harmonious chorus, began to chant, "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!"


    The chant grew louder, their voices rising in unison, creating a powerful rhythm that echoed through the trees.


    The surrounding creatures fell silent, as if paying homage to the new champion in their midst.


    Meanwhile, Volk stood still there, with his massive form towering over them all, he was unable toprehend the situation.


    "VOLK CHAMPION?" he mumbled. It was as if the idea was a foreign concept to him, something he had never considered possible.


    But the chant continued to grow in intensity, the voices around him rising to a fever pitch. "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!"


    Volk''s expression shifted from confusion to eptance as the realization dawned on his head.


    The power of their words, the weight of their recognition, began to fill him with a sense of pride. He had done it. He had proven himself, not just to them, but to the primal force within him.


    Finally, he embraced it. "I, VOOOOLLKK!!! CHAMPION!" he roared, with his voice booming across the clearing in an unstoppable force.


    The ground beneath him trembled with the force of his deration.


    The crowd responded with even more fervor, their voices rising to match his intensity. "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!"


    Volk repeated the words, each time louder, more powerful, feeding off the energy of the crowd. His voice blended with theirs, creating a symphony of triumph that resonated through the very core of the forest. His radioactive form seemed to pulse with a newfound sense of ego, of pride, as if it were feeding off the adtion of the masses.


    Inside, the real Volk felt a surge of satisfaction.


    The primal beast within him revered in the glory, in the unfamiliar recognition.


    It was a feeling unlike anything he had experienced, like there was a sense of fulfillment that he hadn''t realized he craved. But instead of pushing it away, instead of denying it, he let it sink in deep, embracing the moment for what it was.


    Great!


    The chant continued, growing louder, more intense with each passing second. "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!"


    Volk threw his head back and roared once more.


    "ROOOARRRR!!!"


    Together, their voices created a cacophony of triumph, a deration of Volk''s new status in this magical orc tribe!

 Chapter 8: Solluhar

    As Volk stood amidst the cheering crowd, the sound of their voices filled the air, rising in a symphony of triumph and adoration.


    His victory over Luk''Tar felt fresh, and his massive Grum-gar form still pulsed with the lingering energy of the fight.


    The Orcs and Elves chanted his name, "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!"


    Their voices echoed through the tents, and for a moment, Volk let himself bask in the glory of his triumph.


    Then, suddenly, his vision blurred, and a familiar system notification materialized before his eyes.


    | Ding!


    | Duration: Zero.


    | The host will now turn back to being normal, or if the host wishes, the host could stay a rampaging mindless beast. |


    Volk blinked, and he sneered, "No way!" He mumbled.


    Instantaneously, he felt a shift within his body. His towering, titan-like form began to change. His muscles, once bulging with an almost uncontroble power, started to contract.


    First, his massive and thick arms slowly reduced in size, the thick cords of muscle smoothing out as they retracted.


    His chest followed, the broad expanse narrowing, his pectorals no longer jutting out with such extreme definition.


    The transformation continued down his torso, his rock-hard abdomen softening into the tightly packed muscles of his regr form.


    His legs, too, grew slimmer, their immense power condensed into the more manageable frame of a warrior Orc.


    His skin, which had taken on a faint greenish glow, returned to its natural, earthy tone.


    Finally, his head, once erged and fierce with rage, returned to its normal size, now his face lost the sharp, monstrous angles that hade with his Grum-gar transformation¡ªradioactive form.


    As Volkpleted his transformation, his breathing steadied, and he flexed his fingers, feeling the familiar strength of his regr form.


    The crowd around him continued to cheer, seemingly unfazed by his change.


    "Volk Champion!" "Volk Champion!"


    To them, he was still the champion who had defeated Luk''Tar, still the Orc who had earned their respect and admiration.


    But then, a voice broke through the cheers, sharp and filled with venom.


    "Luk''Tar was a fool!" the voice spat out.


    The crowd quieted slightly as an older Orc stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in disdain.


    "He epted the KORNUUM DRHAKAR challenge, thinking Volk was just a normal Labor Orc, easy to defeat. He thought he could hide his dishonor by avoiding the crystal that would have exposed him for what he really is!"


    Like magic, the crowd began to murmur in agreement. "But what happened? Luk''Tar lost! He lost because Volk is the true champion!" the older Orc continued, his voice rising with each word. "Luk''Tar thought he could keep his secrets, but the truth alwayses out!"


    As the older Orc finished, another Orc, this one younger, stepped forward, his face contorted in anger.


    "Luk''Tar has always been shameless! I remember when he challenged me for my ce in the tribe, knowing I was injured and couldn''t fight back. He didn''t care about honor then, and he doesn''t care about it now!"


    A third Orc, his voice rough and full of bitterness, added, "Luk''Tar betrayed me too! He promised to help me when my family was struggling, but he took what little we had for himself. He''s nothing but a liar and a cheat!"


    The crowd''s murmurs grew louder, their voices blending into a chorus of condemnation. "He''s always been this way!" "Luk''Tar is no true warrior!" "Volk showed him what real strength is!"


    The voices ovepped, each one adding to the growing tide of resentment against Luk''Tar.


    Volk stood in silence, his brow furrowed as he listened to the usations.


    The cheers of the crowd had turned into something darker, something bitter and vengeful. He could see it now¡ªif he had lost, these same people would have turned on him just as quickly.


    This awareness made him tighten his jaw, but he remained quiet, letting the crowd have their say while letting them pass through his ears.


    But as the Orcs and Elves continued to vent their anger, Volk''s attention was suddenly drawn to a figure standing at the edge of the crowd.


    His keen eyes focused on her, a young Elven woman with delicate features and long, green hair.


    "Isn''t she the one with the thief?"


    She was oblivious to his gaze, her head bowed, and her shoulders trembling slightly as if she were holding back tears in pain.


    The woman''s lips moved, barely a whisper, but Volk''s sharp ears caught the words. "All of you are wrong," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. "All of you are wrong."


    Volk''s brow furrowed as he watched her, and the crowd''s usations faded into the background as he focused on her, intrigued by the sorrow that seemed to envelop her.


    The woman, Solluha''r, closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting back to memories she had kept hidden in her heart.


    "Luk''Tar was not like this, he is kind, brave and won''t do such things," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible.


    "There was kindness in him. I remember when he saved that young Orc boy from drowning. He didn''t want anyone to know, but I saw it. I saw the way he risked his life to save another."


    Her words were lost on the crowd, but Volk heard them clearly. His eyes narrowed as he listened, his curiosity was growing in a steady pace.


    Solluha''r''s voice grew more steady as she continued, her memories pouring out like a flood.


    "And the time he gave his food to the elders when the harvest was bad. He went hungry for days, but he didn''t tell anyone. He did it because he cared, because he knew they needed it more than he did."


    Volk''s expression softened slightly as he listened, a flicker of something¡ªpity, perhaps¡ªcrossing his features.


    "And then there was the day he found that injured wolf," Solluha''r murmured, her eyes filling with tears.


    "He nursed it back to health in secret, even though the others would have killed it. He let it go when it was strong enough to survive on its own. He wasn''t always this way... he wasn''t always so lost."


    As Solluha''r spoke, her mind was flooded with memories of Luk''Tar, not as the disgraced warrior he was now, but as the Orc she had once known. Her heart ached as she remembered those memories with him.


    She clenched her fists, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.


    "Why, Lu''Tark?" she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "Why did you have to ept that duel? You could have just ignored him... Why did you have to prove yourself? Who is he even?"


    Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and pain, the memories of the moments she had shared with Lu''Tark.


    Although they had never even kissed, they already expressed the feelings they had for each other. And now, all of it was shattered.


    Solluha''r''s eyes filled with tears as she remembered the bond they had shared, a bond that had been torn apart when her talent was revealed.


    She had epted her fate, knowing that her ce was with the tribe, not with Lu''Tark.


    However, the news of his capture of the skinless venomous earth mole had rekindled her hope, a hope that had now been dashed once again.


    "Why, Lu''Tark?" she whispered again, her voice barely audible. "Why did it have to end like this?"


    As she stood there, lost in her despair, a shadow fell over her. She looked up, her tear-filled eyes meeting the gaze of Volk, who had been watching her silently.


    His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that made her heart skip a beat.


    Volk, who had remained silent through it all, watched Solluha''r with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper¡ªsomething he couldn''t quite ce.


    "I wouldn''t have done this if he didn''t did that to me first," he suddenly said.

 Chapter 9: Transactional wife

    Volk watched Solluha''r closely as the noise of the cheering crowd slowly faded into the background.


    The young Elven woman, her silver like green hair gleaming in the dimming light, had just witnessed the brutal defeat of her lover, Luk''Tar.


    Her face, which had been pale and filled with sorrow, now showed the first flicker of something else¡ªan acknowledgment of Volk''s power and the harsh reality of her situation.


    Volk''s voice broke the tense silence between them. "I wouldn''t have done this if he didn''t do that to me first."


    Solluha''r''s eyes flicked upward, meeting his eyes for just a brief moment before she dropped her gaze to the ground. She nodded slowly, "Yes, I believe you."


    Volk was taken aback by her response.


    In her words and in the way she carried herself, he saw a strength that he hadn''t expected.


    Despite the turmoil in her heart, she was willing to ept the oue of the duel for the sake of the tribe.


    Instead of getting angry at him, she was willing to let go of her lover, Luk''Tar, because she knew what was expected of her. Her loyalty to the tribe, her sense of duty¡ªit all resonated with Volk.


    This girl is strong, Volk thought to himself. Stronger than most.


    Back in his world, women often chose their providers over their true lovers, sacrificing love for security and survival.


    He had seen it time and again¡ªgirls marrying someone else while still holding onto thoughts of their true love.


    It was a harsh reality, but one that made sense in the brutal world they lived in.


    Survival often demanded such sacrifices.


    In this, Solluha''r''s decision to ept her fate didn''t surprise him, but it did make him respect her. She was doing what she had to for the tribe, and he understood that.


    Suddenly, an idea formed in Volk''s mind, one that was as practical as it was unexpected. He looked at Solluha''r, who was still lost in her own thoughts, and asked, "How about you be my wife?"


    The words were like a sudden change of weather.


    Solluha''r''s eyes widened slightly, but there was no shock in her expression.


    It was as if she had expected this, she had already resigned herself to such a fate even if Luk''Tar failed and she would get together with somebody among the Dreadmaw n.


    Her lips trembled slightly before she nodded.


    Volk could see the heartbreak in her eyes, even though she tried to hide it.


    He knew that her heart still belonged to Luk''Tar, but that didn''t matter to him.


    His reasons for wanting her as his wife were clear in his mind.


    He knew what kind of woman she was¡ªstrong, dutiful, and talented.


    She wouldn''t be a burden, and he wouldn''t have to worry about her feelings getting in the way of what needed to be done.


    All he needed was someone who would follow hismand, someone who would help him grow stronger.


    Once an Elven Witch like Solluha''r paired with an Orc like him, he knew his power would increase because he would now be sensitive to mana.


    Plus, her talents were unmatched among the younger generation, and with her by his side, he would be an even more formidable warrior. And if, in the future, she is still pinned for Luk''Tar, Volk would have no qualms about letting her go.


    After all, his mission didn''t require emotions¡ªit only required results.


    She was chosen as the grand prize of the event for a reason, and that reason was her potential to elevate the strength of any warrior she was paired with.


    Volk would use that to his advantage.


    Solluha''r remained silent, her eptance without surprise or argument. She had already epted her fate long ago, ever since she was chosen as the grand prize. But the turn of events had reignited a small hope within her¡ªa hope that Luk''Tar might be the one to hold her.


    That hope was now extinguished, leaving her with nothing but the cold reality that it would be Volk, not Luk''Tar, who would im her.


    Volk saw the sadness in her eyes and suddenly reached out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him.


    His grip was firm but not cruel, and his voice was low and steady as he spoke. "Look," he said, "I''m not forcing you. If in the future I find someone else, I''ll let you go. Then, you can go back to your lover, Luk''Tar."


    Solluha''r''s eyes filled with tears as she listened to Volk''s words.


    She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and she knew that he was speaking the truth.


    He didn''t care about her feelings, didn''t care about the love she had lost.


    To him, she was a means to an end, a tool to help him achieve his goals. And yet, there was something in his words that made her feel a tiny flicker of relief.


    He was giving her an out, a chance to return to Luk''Tar if things changed.


    "You and Luk''Tar are meant to be," Volk continued, his voice unwavering. "Whatever I do, I know that you will never truly belong to me. I just need you for your talent for now, nothing less, nothing more."


    Tears spilled over Solluha''r''s cheeks, and she nodded her head, epting the cold reality of her situation.


    Volk smiled, a thin, satisfied smile, and released her chin.


    "Good, good," he said, his voice carrying a note of approval. "Then there''s no need to punish Luk''Tar. I''ll let him live because of your decision."


    Solluha''r''s eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Volk, her tears momentarily forgotten.


    The insight of what he had just said struck her in the head like a blow¡ªhe would have punished Luk''Tar if she had refused.


    The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized how close she hade to sealing her lover''s fate with her own words.


    Volk''s smile widened as he saw the surprise in her eyes. "Yes, I would have," he said, answering the question that she hadn''t asked. "But you made the right choice. Now, we can both get what we want."


    Solluha''r could only nod again, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she had been forced to choose between her own happiness and Luk''Tar''s life.


    She had chosen thetter, sacrificing her own desires for the sake of the man she loved. But in doing so, she had also bound herself to Volk, a warrior she barely knew, a man who saw her only as a tool to be used.


    Everything else¡ªthe crowd''s noise, Volk''s voice, her own thoughts¡ªfaded into nothingness.


    The world around her seemed to dissolve, leaving only the weight of her decision pressing down on her, crushing her spirit.


    All that remained was a deep, unknown and an overwhelming sense of emptiness.


    Meanwhile, Volk noticed the sadness in Solluha''r''s eyes deepening. A flicker of an idea crossed his mind.


    Without warning, he wrapped hisrge hand around her waist, lifting her effortlessly into the air.


    He secured her against him, his right hand firmly grasping her backside while his left hand remained on her chin.


    He brought her face close to his, their noses almost touching. His voice was low, resonating with a surprising gentleness as he spoke.


    "I know this is hard," Volk began, his words uncharacteristically soft. "I can see it in your eyes. You feel like a tool, something to be used. But believe me, I don''t want this any more than you do. I''m in the same situation as you, forced into something neither of us asked for."


    His words were like a truthful whisper of the warm wind,den with a truth that was hard for Solluha''r to ignore.


    Volk''s tone shifted as he continued, his voice growing firmer, more resolute.


    "Our tribe is in danger, Solluha''r. We''re living on the edge, surrounded by enemies in this godforsaken forest. We''ve escaped the Dark Elven Witches and the Red Elven Warlocks, but how long can we survive like this?


    "We need strength, and that''s why I chose you. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to¡ªfor the horde, for the tribe, and for the elves. Can you understand that?"


    Solluha''r''s voice was barely above a whisper, but she nodded and replied, "Yes, I understand."


    "See," Volk said, his tone softening again, "we''re in the same boat. If I had a choice, I might have chosen someone else, someone who felt the same way about me. But just like you, I don''t have a choice. We''re both forced into this for the greater good."


    Volk''s eyes searched hers, his expression serious. "So, I''m going to ask you again, Solluha''r. Do you want to be my wife? If you feel like a tool, if you truly don''t want this, just say no. I''ll understand. I''ll choose the second most talented girl in the tribe, and we can both go our separate ways."


    Solluha''r hesitated, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and doubt. She could see the sincerity in Volk''s eyes, the heavy burden of responsibility they both carried.


    In that moment, she realized that this man, despite his rough exterior and brutal strength, was just as trapped by fate as she was.


    He didn''t want this any more than she did, but he was willing to do whatever it took to protect the tribe, the horde, and the elves.


    Her resolve hardened.


    This was her fate, and it was Volk''s as well.


    With a slow, deliberate nod, Solluha''r epted her destiny.


    Seeing the determination in her eyes, Volk''s expression changed.


    A confident smile spread across his face, and without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her.


    The kiss was deep, intense, and it took Solluha''r by surprise. Her eyes widened, her body stiffened at first, but soon she felt herself melting into his embrace.


    The kiss seemed tost an eternity, a moment in which all of her fears and doubts were washed away by the overwhelming force of his will.


    When Volk finally pulled away, he looked at her with a satisfied grin. "Tasty," he murmured, the word filled with a possessive pride.


    Solluha''r blinked, bewildered by the sudden intimacy. Her mind was a jumble of emotions, and she found herself asking, "Why did you kiss me?"

 Chapter 10: Symbiotic relationship

    Volk''s confident smile widened, a glint of determination in his eyes.


    He leaned in closer to Solluha''r, with a deep and unwavering voice.


    "I kissed you because I wanted to," he said, his tone firm. "And I''m grateful that you epted. I have one life to live, Solluha''r, and I could die at any moment.


    "Since you''re now mine, I won''t waste a single moment. I''ll enjoy every second with you.


    "No!


    "I''ll make sure every second, I will enjoy you!


    "When the dayes that you want to leave or when I have to let you go, I''ll know that I didn''t waste a damn second and I won''t regret every single thing that will happen between us!"


    As his words sank in, Solluha''r''s face turned a deep shade of red. Her body trembled slightly, and a strange warmth spread through her, emanating from deep within.


    She couldn''t exin it, but something inside her was awakening¡ªa heat, a strange warm wetness down below, and an unknown yearning she kept denying that she had never felt before.


    Without warning, Volk tightened his grip around her waist, lifting her even higher, and then swung her around with surprising grace.


    Her world spun for a moment before he began to walk toward the center of the horde, carrying her like a prized possession.


    The sudden movement made her gasp, but before she could protest, Volk''s booming voice echoed across the gathering.


    "She will be my wife!" he dered, with a voice filled with pride.


    The entire tribe¡ªOrcs and Elves alike¡ªfell silent.


    The air seemed to thicken with the weight of his words.


    Faces turned toward them, eyes wide with shock and curiosity.


    Murmurs started to spread through the crowd, questions and spections whispered among them. Many knew Solluha''r was Lu''Tark''s intended partner, and confusion rippled through the horde.


    Solluha''r''s blush deepened, her embarrassment almost overwhelming.


    She felt every eye on her, judging, questioning, and she desperately tried to avoid meeting any of them. But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw him¡ªLu''Tark.


    He was conscious now, standing with the support of several Orcs.


    Their eyes met for the briefest moment, and guilt surged through her like a tidal wave. She forced herself to look away, to focus on Volk, to focus on the tribe.


    This was for the tribe, she told herself, and she had to do this. Yes, this was for the tribe, and she had to do this, repeating it like a mantra.


    Lu''Tark, meanwhile, felt his heart shatter as he watched the scene unfold.


    The sight of Solluha''r, blushing and being carried like a princess by the one who defeated him, enjoying the moment despite her earlier reluctance, was more than he could bear.


    The Orcs supporting him began to pull him away, with a harsh and mocking tone on their voices.


    "Let''s go," one of them said, his tone sharp. "There''s no point in watching this ceremony."


    Another snorted, adding with disdain, "You''ve lost. It''s over."


    Lu''Tark nodded weakly, feeling his spiritpletely crushed. His once vibrant eyes now looked hollow and lifeless as he epted his fate.


    There was nothing left for him here, nothing but the bitter taste of defeat and loss of his one and only love.


    Back at the center of the horde, Volk was watching Lu''Tark in the corner of his eyes, and his eyes would beam with a malevolent glint, but he quickly hid it.


    Soon, he brought Solluha''r to stand before a massive bonfire that roared with magical energy.


    The mes crackled and danced, their glow casting long shadows over the gathering.


    The air around them was charged with power, a palpable force that made the hair on Solluha''r''s arms stand on end.


    The tribe began to chant, their voices rising in a rhythmic, ancient song that resonated deep within the earth.


    The words were old, older than any of them, passed down through generations.


    The chant echoed through the clearing, each note a piece of their history, their struggles, and their unity.


    As the chant grew louder, the fire before them zed higher, its mes tinged with colors beyond the natural spectrum¡ªvivid purples, deep blues, and fiery reds.


    Solluha''r felt the warmth of the fire envelop her, but it wasn''t just heat¡ªit was something more, something alive.


    The magic of the bonfire seeped into her skin, filling her with an energy she had never experienced before.


    It was as if the very essence of the tribe was flowing through her veins, binding her to this moment, to Volk, and to their shared destiny.


    Volk, too, felt the magic wrapping around him, invigorating him, heightening his senses.


    He could see the uncertainty flickering in Solluha''r''s eyes, the lingering doubt.


    He knew what this meant to her, how close she had been to bing Lu''Tark''s partner, and now here she was, standing on the brink of a new life with him instead.


    He leaned in, his voice low but intense. "Are you sure about this, Solluha''r? If you''re not ready, you can say no. I won''t hold it against you."


    Solluha''r''s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the decision pressing down on her.


    She remembered Lu''Tark, the promises they had made to each other, the future they had imagined together. But she also knew the reality of their situation.


    This was for the tribe, for their survival, for the greater good.


    With a deep breath, she shook her head, pushing away the guilt, the doubt, and any lingering attachment she believed she still had.


    "I want to do this," she said, her voice firm despite the turmoil inside her. "For the tribe."


    Volk nodded. "Good," he said, his voice resonating with approval. He looked into her eyes, seeing the resolve there, the eptance.


    Meanwhile, the chant reached its climax, the voices of the tribe swelling in unison as the mes of the bonfire surged even higher.


    Suddenly, a phenomenon began to unfold¡ªa swirling mist rose from the ground, mingling with the fire, enveloping Volk and Solluha''r in a cocoon of light and magic.


    The air shimmered with energy, the very fabric of reality bending around them as the ritual reached its peak.


    Solluha''r could feel the magic pulsing through her, binding her to Volk in a way that went beyond mere words or vows.


    It was a connection forged in the very essence of their beings, a bond that would shape their future, whatever that future might be.


    Despite the lingering sadness in her heart, she felt a strange sense of peace, as if she had finally found her ce, her purpose.


    As the mist and mes enveloped them, their silhouettes began to blur, fading into the swirling vortex of magic.


    Thest thing Solluha''r saw before everything disappeared was Volk''s face, his eyes filled with determination and a strange, unexpected warmth.


    Then, everything was consumed by the light, and the two of them were gone, their fates sealed by the ancient ritual.


    After a few minutes, as the mystical mes began to recede, the scorching heat that had enveloped Volk''s chest started to diminish, leaving behind fiery, glowing markings etched into his skin.


    The sensation was more than just skin deep; it was as if the very essence of the fire had embedded itself into his soul, burning with a persistent intensity.


    He exhaled, the breath escaping his lips like a hiss¡ªhssss¡ªas the realization of what had just happened settled over him.


    Suddenly, he noticed Solluha''r swaying, her legs buckling beneath her as the effects of the transformation took their toll.


    Her small, delicate frame had begun to expand, growing heavier, her limbs longer and more muscr.


    The air around her seemed to hum¡ªbzzzz¡ªwith energy, as if the very atmosphere recognized the change.


    Before she could copse, Volk sprang towards her. His powerful arms shot out¡ªwhish¡ªand he caught her with ease.


    Holding her, he could feel her body heat, almost feverish, against his skin. He could feel the little strange fiery aura radiating off her, like aa pulsing warmth that seemed to resonate with the marks on his chest.


    The silence of the moment was punctuated only by the crackling of the dying mes¡ªcrackle, crackle¡ªas Volk cradled her in his arms.


    Solluha''r''s breathing was ragged¡ªhuff, huff¡ªand her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, filled with a mixture of confusion, fear, and something else¡ªsomething deeper, perhaps a dawning understanding of their newfound connection.


    "Easy now," Volk murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the air¡ªrumble. "I''ve got you."


    Solluha''r''s lips quivered¡ªquiver¡ªas she tried to speak, but the words wouldn''te. Instead, she simply nodded, and a small, almost imperceptible movement that Volk felt more than saw.


    Suddenly, Volk felt that her body, once petite and fragile, had transformed into something more heavy.


    Taking a clear view of her whole body in his arms, he now felt that she had once stood at a modest height, but now reached nearly seven feet, with her frame broader and more imposing.


    He could confirm it with the murmurs from the gathered tribe members¡ªmurmur, murmur¡ªas they too noticed the dramatic change in Solluha''r.


    Whispers of astonishment rippled through the crowd like a wave¡ªwhoosh¡ªas Orcs and Elves alike exchanged stunned nces.


    "Did you see that?" one voice whispered, barely audible.


    "She''s grown so much," another added, disbelief tinged with awe.


    "Is it normal? I think she''s too big," an older Orcmented, his voice grave. "I have never seen an elven race be as big as her size now, is that normal?"


    Volk''s sharp ears caught every word¡ªshing, shing¡ªbut his focus remained on the woman in his arms.


    He could feel the tremors in her body¡ªtremble, tremble¡ªas she adjusted to her new form, the weight of what had happened pressed down on her just as heavily as her new physical mass.


    Volk decided just to stare at her.


    Solluha''r''s eyes widened slightly¡ªblink, blink¡ªas she absorbed his words.


    There was a flicker of something in her gaze¡ªperhaps a hint of resolve, or maybe just the first glimmer of eptance.


    Volk could see that she was struggling to process everything, so he slowly lowered her to the ground, but his hands remained steady¡ªthump¡ªagainst her shoulders, supporting her until she was sure of her footing.


    The transformation had clearly taken a toll, and Volk could feel the strain in her muscles¡ªstrain, strain¡ªas she adjusted to her new body.


    The murmurs around them continued¡ªmurmur, murmur¡ªbut Volk ignored them.


    His attention was entirely on Solluha''r, on the woman who had just be his partner in a way that went beyond any normal bond.


    He could feel the connection between them, a pulsing energy that thrummed¡ªthrum, thrum¡ªbeneath the surface, tying them together in a way that was both exhrating and terrifying.


    Before Volk could say anything more, a soft chime echoed in his mind¡ªding¡ªthe familiar sound of the system notification snapping him back to reality.


    | Ding!


    | Mission: Get yourself a Nuclear Reactor Vessel!


    | Status: Completed! |

 Chapter 11: Radioactive Abilities

    As Volk stood there, holding the newly transformed Solluha''r in his arms, another screen suddenly materialized before his eyes, glowing with an eerie light.


    His gaze sharpened as he read the words that appeared:


    | Ding!


    | Name: Solluha''r Dohur''khandel.


    | Age: 18 years old.


    | Symbiotic rtionship: Nuclear Reactor Main Vessel.


    | Nuclear Energy Vessels: 4. |


    For a moment, Volk was speechless, his thoughts swirling in confusion.


    What?


    He thought, with a swirling head.


    She''s the Nuclear Reactor Vessel?


    His brow furrowed as the implications began to sink in.


    How is this possible?


    Why is she a Nuclear Reactor Vessel?


    The questions bombarded his mind, but no answers came.


    Is she going to be dangerous? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.


    Volk''s instincts screamed at him to protect, but from what?


    From her?


    The woman he had just vowed to share his life with?


    He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but his unease lingered like an important event he shouldn''t ignore.


    Just then, as if responding to his silent turmoil, the system chimed in¡ªDing!¡ªand more text scrolled across the screen:


    | Ding!


    | Solluha''r will live peacefully and normally as a vessel. She is not radioactive and will be immune to radiation depending on her Mana maniption ability. |


    Volk let out a breath he didn''t realize he''d been holding.


    So, she''s safe¡­ and immune to radiation?


    The relief was immense, he was worried the tribe would explode but he still couldn''t shake the oddness of it all.


    Mana maniption?


    He wondered just how powerful she might be with this strange new status.


    Before Volk could dwell on it further, another system screen appeared¡ªDing¡ªshing with more information:


    | Ding!


    | Due to the Nuclear Reactor Main Vessel having four energy storages, the host, Volk, can instantly store four types of nuclear energies using the symbiotic rtionship: Botanical, Wind, Earth, and Water. |


    A slow grin spread across Volk''s face.


    Four types of nuclear energy¡­


    He was clueless but it doesn''t matter.


    He could feel an unknown power within him thrumming beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed in this magical world that he is now living in.


    However, there was one nagging question that he couldn''t ignore¡ªHow could I make use of all these things?


    The system seemed to anticipate his thoughts, for it shed again¡ªDing!¡ªwith a new message:


    | As a reward for obtaining a Nuclear Reactor Vessel, the host will be given two rewards.


    | First reward: Radioactive Absorption in the normal orc form! |


    Volk''s eyes widened. Absorption? The text continued:


    | Ding!


    | The host can now absorb radioactive materials or energies everywhere, depending on the Nuclear Energy Vessels that the Nuclear Reactor Main Vessel has. |


    Excitement surged through Volk as he absorbed the information.


    In this realm, there was something known as Magical radiation, and it was everywhere.


    The forest they lived in was surrounded by Magical radiations emitted by the trees, and many other ces were teeming with radioactive magics.


    With this ability, Volk realized, I can feel safe anywhere!


    But even as he reveled in this newfound security, another thought bubbled up to the surface¡ªIs that what I need? Volk''s mind whirled.


    A radiation janitor?


    No, he wanted more than that. He needed something he could use in battle, something that would make him a force to be reckoned with in this magical world.


    Something that could be used in battle, I want something else!


    As if the system heard his wish, the screen shed again¡ªDing!¡ªand a new message appeared:


    | Ding!


    | For the second reward, the host will be given a radioactive ability called Elemental Nuclear Strikes! |


    Volk blinked, his interest piqued. Elemental Nuclear Strikes? The text continued:


    | An ability that can only be used in Radioactive form by Striking or Punching with such force that it generates destructive magical shockwaves! |


    A surge of adrenaline coursed through Volk''s veins as he read on, his heart pounding in anticipation.


    | Nuclear Strikes can be used normally, but there are variations that depend on the Nuclear Reactor Main Vessel''s mana maniption ability and level.


    | These variations have different effects and different destructive powers and it all depends on the Nuclear Reactor Main Vessel Ability |


    Volk could barely contain his excitement. He felt like a child on the verge of opening a long-awaited gift. What''s her level? he wondered, his eyes scanning the screen eagerly.


    | Ding!


    | Sr, the Nuclear Reactor Main Vessel''s elemental mana maniption masteries:


    | Nuclear Botanical Strikes: level 8.


    | Nuclear Wind Strikes: level 5.


    | Nuclear Earth Strikes: level 1.


    | Nuclear Water Strikes: level 1. |


    Volk nearly jumped for joy. Level 8 in Botanical! He marveled at the strength she already possessed. And Wind at level 5? Earth and Water at level 1? He didn''t care how he could use that, but it sounds astounding.


    As expected of nuke abilities!


    He imagined the shockwaves tearing through enemies, uprooting trees, and reshaping the battlefield itself.


    Unable to contain himself, Volk actually did jump¡ªthud¡ªhis heavy boots hitting the ground with a loud impact.


    He could use something like a nuclear powered ability with his bare hands, and there are even elemental variations of it which he is not knowledgeable about.


    However, he believes he will eventually learn them, he just needs more time to practice.


    The other orcs and elves looked at him in surprise, but their surprise quickly turned to understanding and then toughter.


    They could see the joy on his face, the pride that radiated from him.


    He wasn''t just happy about having a talented wife¡ªno, they realized that Volk''s talent must be immense as well, to have a symbiotic partner be like that¡ªit''s like they are a perfect fit for together.


    The obvious information spread through the crowd like forgotten house fire, and soon the cheers began to rise¡ªcheer, cheer¡ªgrowing louder and more fervent with each passing second.


    "Volk Champion!" they shouted.


    "Volk Champion!" The chant grew stronger, reverberating through the clearing.


    "Volk Champion!"


    Volk''s chest swelled with pride. He had never felt so powerful, so alive.


    His gaze shifted to Solluha''r who had been quiet through all themotion.


    Her face was flushed, her eyes wide with a mixture of emotions that Volk couldn''t quite read. But before he could say anything, she finally spoke, with her voice soft but steady.


    "I¡­ I need to rest," Solluha''r said, her voice trembling slightly from the weight of the transformation and the events that had just unfolded.


    She felt like she couldn''t take them and she needed to rest for now.


    Volk nodded, his earlier exuberance tempered by her obvious exhaustion.


    He tightened his hold on her, supporting her nowrger frame as he guided her away from the cheering crowd, his mind already nning the next steps.


    There was much to learn, much to explore about their new abilities, but for now, he would let her rest.


    After all, knowing the nuclear abilities he had now was great news for him.

 Chapter 12: Changing Area

    Suddenly, Volk snapped back to reality from the sound of chanting¡ª"Breed! Breed! Breed! Breed!"


    The cries rang through the air, echoing off the trees and reverberating through the forest.


    Startled, Volk nearly lost his footing, stumbling slightly as he carried Solluha''r in his arms. Her weight was different now, heavier, more substantial. But it wasn''t just her physical transformation that caused him to pause; it was the nature of the chants that caught him off guard.


    "Breed! Breed! Breed! Breed!"


    The Orcs and Elves around him continued to shout, their voices growing louder and more insistent.


    Volk slightly felt a flush of embarrassment rising in his cheeks. He had forgotten how deeply ingrained this practice was in the tribe.


    In this magical orc and elf tribe, where survival was a daily battle and their numbers were constantly dwindling due to the relentless pursuit of the Dark Elven Witches and the Red Elven Warlocks, breeding was seen as an urgent necessity.


    As soon as a symbiotic connection was established, it was expected that the pair would procreate immediately, ensuring the continued growth of the tribe''s poption.


    Sohur, cradled in Volk''s arms, blushed deeply, and it''s obvious that her face turned into a brilliant shade of red. She hid her face in his chest, trying to escape the stares and the cries that surrounded them.


    She knew this was the tribe''s way, but it didn''t make the situation any less mortifying.


    Volk''s thoughts raced as he tried to regain hisposure. He knew the logic behind the tribe''s insistence on breeding¡ªit was a matter of survival.


    If the tribe were attacked again¡ªwhich happens asionally¡ªand many were killed or captured, the offspring would ensure that the tribe could repopte and continue to resist their enemies. But the expectation still pressed heavily on his chest.


    As Volk continued forward, he noticed a massive adult Orc and an Elf standing ahead of him.


    The two figures were imposing, their presencemanding respect.


    They were clearly waiting for him and Solluha''r, and as Volk approached, they both stared in awe at Solluha''r''s erged form.


    "Look at her size!" the Orc eximed, his voice a deep rumble. His eyes were wide with astonishment as he took in Solluha''r''s transformed body. "I''ve never seen a female this massive before!" He turned to Volk, his gaze filled with admiration. "You must be an incredibly talented, young one! To have a partner be this big after your union¡­ AaaHhh the tribe will benefit greatly from your union!"


    Sohur''s face grew even redder, and she squirmed in Volk''s arms, trying to hide herself from their scrutinizing eyes.


    Thepliments, though well-meaning, only added to her embarrassment.


    The old Orc suddenly looked up at the sky, raising his arms dramatically. "Praise the Orc Lord!" he bellowed, his voice carrying through the forest. "This must be a sign! With a union like this, we will be a powerhouse! We will rise up against our oppressors and reim ournd!"


    The Elf beside him, clearly his partner, giggled softly. "You can prayter, old one," she teased, nudging the Orc yfully. "For now, let''s focus on leading these two younglings to their new quarters."


    Volk felt a surge of gratitude toward the Elf for redirecting the attention away from him and Solluha''r.


    The chanting in the background continued¡ª"Breed! Breed! Breed! Breed!"¡ªbut it seemed more distant now as the Elf began to lead them away.


    As they walked, the Elf exined the structure of the tribe. "There are four main areas in our tribe," she began, her voice calm and melodic. "Where you came from was the Cubling Area. That''s where the young cubs and baby ones are reared. It''s heavily guarded by some of our strongest warriors to ensure their safety."


    Volk nodded, taking in the information. He had noticed the guards earlier but hadn''t paid them much attention, his mind too focused on Solluha''r.


    "Now," the Elf continued, "we''re heading to the Wilding Area. It''s where you''ll be living from now on. This area is a bit more¡­ free. You''ll have the opportunity to breed, of course, but there are also other activities you can take part in, like the Catb Excavation Mission. That one''s quite popr, though it''s not without its risks." She paused, giving them a knowing look.


    "The tribe rewards those who contribute, so if you''re looking to prove yourself, that''s one way to do it."


    As they walked, Volk noticed Solluha''r''s face growing even redder, her embarrassment almost palpable. She tried to hide herself again, but this time, using her long, green, shining silver hair to shield her face from view.


    Volk''s heart went out to her; this was all so overwhelming, and he could only imagine how she must be feeling.


    "The other two areas," the Elf said, "you''ll learn about them in time. But for now, just focus on settling in and¡­ enjoying yourselves."


    Sohur''s face turned crimson at the Elf''s words, and she buried her face even deeper into Volk''s chest. He could feel her body trembling slightly, whether from exhaustion or embarrassment, he wasn''t sure.


    Finally, they arrived at a small tower, nestled among the trees. The Elf gestured to it with a flourish. "This will be your new home," she exined. "It''s sturdy, built of brick and stone, and even the air can''t prate it. It''s designed for privacy and protection." She led them to the entrance. "It''s like a two-story house.


    The first floor is where you can cook and take care of daily tasks. The second floor¡­ well, that''s where you''ll be you know-"


    Volk stared at the tower, speechless.


    But he nodded absently as the Elf continued her exnation, but his mind was elsewhere, spinning with the weight of it all.


    Finally, the Elf and the old Orc bid them farewell, leaving them alone at the entrance to their new quarters. Solluha''r was still trembling in his arms, her face hidden. Volk took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew what was expected of him, of them both. But that didn''t make it any easier.


    "Breed! Breed! Breed! Breed!"


    The distant chants still echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the path thaty before them.


    With onest deep breath, Volk pushed open the door to the tower and stepped inside, carrying Solluha''r with him. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of magicalmps casting flickering shadows on the walls. The first floor was simple, with a small kitchen area and a few chairs. But Volk''s eyes were drawn upward, to the stairs that led to the second floor¡ªthe you-know-uhrm floor.


    He felt Solluha''r''s grip tighten on him as they ascended the stairs. Her embarrassment was almost overwhelming, but Volk knew he had to stay strong, for both their sakes. This girl''s shit is heavy. Both of them might fall down if he''s not careful.


    When they reached the top, Volk paused at the doorway, his hand resting on the handle. He looked down at Solluha''r, her face still buried in his chest. "Are you ready?" he asked softly.


    Sohur didn''t respond at first, but then she nodded slightly, with her hair brushing against his skin.


    Volk nodded in return.

 Chapter 13: Brute Mending Practice

    Volk felt the warmth of Solluha''r''s skin against his own as he gently ced her on the bed, her slight nod still fresh in his mind. And he stood there for a moment, just watching her as shey still, eyes averted, lost in thoughts he could only guess at.


    The flickering light from a nearbyntern cast shadows that danced across her face, highlighting the soft curves of her features.


    Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from downstairs, cutting through the quiet.


    Volk''s brow furrowed as he turned toward the door.


    The voice was unmistakable¡ªone of the elder elves, her tone carrying an air of urgency that was hard to ignore. He nced back at Solluha''r, who remained silent and motionless on the bed, before reluctantly stepping away. "I''ll be back," he muttered, more to himself than to her, and left the room.


    Descending the creaky wooden stairs, Volk''s eyesnded on the elf standing at the entrance, holding a rolled-up scroll in her hand.


    She was an older figure, her eyes sharp with wisdom earned from countless battles and strategies. Her silver hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and her expression was one of focused intent.


    Without a word, she tossed the scroll to Volk, who caught it instinctively, though his thoughts were still upstairs with Solluha''r.


    "Read what''s inside first," she said, her voice firm. "Before you exchange love liquids, you need to know this."


    With that, she turned and left as abruptly as she hade, leaving Volk alone in the dimly lit room.


    Volk looked down at the scroll, his mind racing.


    The material felt rough in his hands, the animal skin it was made from rough and worn.


    As he unfurled it, the symbols and runes on the page seemed to glow faintly, and to his surprise, he could understand them with ease.


    The instructions were clear¡ªwhile consummating the union, he was to channel Mana into the essential parts of his body.


    Doing so would not only strengthen him but also extend the duration and potency of his Grum-gar form, a state of being that allowed him to tap into the primal strength of his ancestors.


    Volk''s heart pounded with excitement as he read on, each word fueling a growing determination within him.


    The concept was simple, yet the implications were profound.


    This wasn''t just about physical strength; it was about forging a bond that would elevate both him and Solluha''r to new heights of power. He felt a surge of energy course through him as hemitted the steps to memory, practicing the mental exercises needed to direct the Mana flow as described.


    Satisfied that he had absorbed the knowledge, Volk carefully rolled the scroll back up and set it aside. He took a deep breath, trying to steady the anticipation thrumming through his veins, and then climbed the stairs back to where Solluha''r was waiting.


    The moment he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat.


    Solluha''r was no longer lying down; she was sitting upright on the bed, her body framed by the soft glow of thentern. Her green hair, which cascaded down her back like a waterfall of emerald silk, shimmered in the light.


    She wore only the barest of undergarments now, flimsy pieces of fabric that did little to cover her well-toned, statuesque figure. Her skin was the color of fresh snow, smooth and wless, with a slight sheen that hinted at the power lying dormant beneath.


    Her abs, defined yet feminine, moved slightly with each breath she took, and her long legs, toned and powerful, were positioned in a way that seemed almost too deliberate.


    Volk''s eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her as she tried¡ªand failed¡ªto maintain an air of seduction.


    There was an awkwardness in her posture, a hesitance in the way she looked at him, it was obvious with her face flushed with embarrassment.


    It was clear she was trying to y the part, but her nervousness only added to her charm, making her look even more alluring in his eyes.


    A serious expression crossed Volk''s face as he stepped closer to her, his mind spinning.


    Wasn''t she in love with Luk''Tar?


    Why was she trying to seduce him now?


    The question began to enter his head, and he felt like he couldn''t ignore the strange mix of emotions swirling within him¡ªanger, curiosity, and something else he couldn''t quite name.


    Without warning, Volk reached out, his fingers brushing against her thigh.


    The contact was electric, and Solluha''r flinched, her eyes widening in surprise.


    Volk continued, focusing on her body, sliding his hand slowly up her body, tracing a path from her thigh to her stomach, then to her chest, and up to her neck. His touch was light, almost teasing, yet there was a deliberate intent behind it, as if he was searching for something within her.


    As his fingers finally reached her face, Solluha''r flinched again, her eyes darting away from his intense gaze.


    Volk leaned in closer, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. "Are you sure you''re just doing this for the tribe?" he asked, his breath hot against her skin. "Not because you like me? Not because you''re afraid to admit it?"


    Solluha''r''s face flushed an even deeper shade of red, her body trembling slightly under his touch. She couldn''t bring herself to meet his eyes, instead staring off to the side, her embarrassment clear. "I''m just doing this for the tribe," she whispered, her voice barely audible.


    A sly smile tugged at the corners of Volk''s mouth. "Really?" he teased, his tone mocking. "For the tribe? Not because you''d feel guilty if you admitted you liked it?"


    Her blush deepened, and she shook her head vehemently. "No," she insisted, though her voice wavered. "It''s¡­ it''s for the tribe. That''s all."


    Volk studied her for a moment, his gaze piercing as if trying to see through her words and into her soul. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded slowly. "If you say so," he murmured, his voice softening. He reached out and gently held her head in his hands, pulling her closer until their foreheads touched.


    For a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, caught in a strange, unspoken understanding.


    Despite the circumstances, despite the uncertainty and the lingering doubts, there was a connection between them¡ªa bond that went beyond words or intentions.


    Whether it was born of duty, fate, or something more, Volk couldn''t tell. But he could feel it, as real and as undeniable as the heartbeat in his chest.


    Volk didn''t hesitate.


    With a fire burning in his eyes, he lunged toward Solluha''r, his hands gripping her with a hunger that only grew stronger with each passing moment. His touch was no longer gentle but urgent, driven by a deep, unyielding desire.


    Solluha''r gasped, her body responding instinctively to his every movement as he imed her with a ferocity that left no room for her to resist.


    Soon, the room was soon filled with the sounds of their passion¡ªbreathless gasps, desperate moans, and the rhythmic cadence of their bodies moving together in a wild, unrestrained dance.


    The bed creaked and groaned beneath them, the wooden frame straining under the intensity of their lovemaking.


    Time seemed to blur as they lost themselves in each other, and the world outside seemed to slowly fading until nothing else existed but the two of them, entwined in a frenzy of heat and desire.


    After what felt like hours, their movements began to slow. Volk, panting heavily, suddenly froze, a flicker of shock crossed his face. He pulled back slightly, with his chest still heaving as he tried to catch his breath.


    Solluha''r, with her body still trembling from the aftershocks of their union, looked up at him with eyes zed over in a lustful haze. "What''s wrong?" she asked, her voice breathy, almost pleading, as if she couldn''t bear to be apart from him even for a second.


    Volk''s gaze sharpened as his mind cleared. He cursed under his breath as he remembered the Mana Bonding Scroll. He hadn''t used it. The thought made him pause, and he could see the shift in Solluha''r''s expression as well.


    Her eyes widened, the realization dawning on her too. "You didn''t-" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and fear. She didn''t even finish when Volk shook his head, a determined look crossing his face. "No," he said firmly, "I didn''t."


    Solluha''r''s breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard, she could feel her throat dry. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as the enormity of what he was saying sank in. "Again?" she whispered, with a barely audible voice.


    "Yes," Volk replied without hesitation, his tone leaving no room for argument. He could see the apprehension in her eyes, the uncertainty mixed with lingering desire. But there was no backing down now¡ªat least not for him.


    Sohur nodded slowly, her gaze locked on his. She was scared, yes, but there was also a strange sense of determination in her eyes, a willingness to go through with this, whatever the cost.


    She braced herself, her body tensing as Volk moved closer again, her womanhood felt his presence overwhelming, making her body heat up once again.

 Chapter 14: MagDurotan 2nd stage

    As the night deepened, the room was filled with a profound stillness, broken only by the soft,bored breaths of Solluha''r.


    Volk''s initial euphoria began to wane as he realized something was amiss. He couldn''t feel the flow of Mana in his body anymore.


    The sensation of energy that had surged through him during their union had vanished entirely, leaving him cold and empty.


    No matter how hard he tried, he couldn''t summon even a spark of the power he had felt before.


    His eyes shifted to Solluha''r, whoy beside him.


    Her once radiant skin now looked pale and drained, her chest rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. Her emerald green hair, once vibrant and flowing like a river of silk, now seemed dull and lifeless.


    The sight filled Volk with dread.


    "What''s going on?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.


    He gently shook her, hoping for a sign of life, but she remained limp, her energy seemingly depleted.


    A thousand thoughts raced through Volk''s mind, and a deep sense of panic began to set in.


    Don''t tell me¡­ she couldn''t handle the radiation from me?


    He cursed himself silently.


    I shouldn''t have pushed her so hard and should have known that my radiation might cause her harm even though she is the Nuclear Reactor Vessel.


    Hepared Solluha''r''s body to how she looked before¡ªvital, energetic, and full of life¡ªand now she was a shadow of that.


    She wasn''t just tired; she waspletely spent.


    Her body had weakened to the point where it seemed as though she might never recover.


    His heart pounded in his chest, along with his breath quickening.


    He didn''t know what to do.


    He had never felt this kind of helplessness before.


    He promised he would always be strong, always seem in control, but now, looking at Solluha''r''s frail form, he felt powerless.


    Again and again and again.


    Suddenly, Solluha''r stirred. Her hand, though weak, reached out and touched his face, Volk could feel her palm warm against his skin.


    Her eyes fluttered open, revealing a faint smile. "Don''t worry about me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.


    "After three months of rest, we can do this again. But for now, I can''t¡­ I don''t have any more Mana to give you. I just need a little rest."


    Volk felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was tempered by doubt. "Are you sure?" he asked, still uncertain.


    Solluha''r giggled softly, her voice a little stronger now. "Yes, I''m sure," she reassured him. She then wrapped her arms around him weakly, pulling him close.


    Despite her weakness, she tried tofort him, and Volk felt a little of his worry melt away.


    Morning came, and Volk woke to find Solluha''r still sleeping. Her breathing was even, her face peaceful.


    She looked better than she had the night before, and Volk felt some of his fears ease.


    Perhaps what she had said was true¡ªmaybe she just needed time to recover.


    Just as he began to rx, a loud shout echoed from outside.


    "Kaz''rogal!"


    The word rang through their bricked wall, and Volk''s heart skipped a beat. He recognized that name¡ªit meant "Mightiest Natural Ability" in thenguage of his people.


    Confused, Volk quickly dressed and hurried downstairs.


    Outside, he was greeted by the sight of arge, muscr orc with wild, white hair standing at the entrance.


    The old orc studied him with a piercing gaze, sizing him up.


    "Looks like you are really our tribe''s Kaz''rogal this year, just like Thrand''or said," the orc said with a hint of amusement in his voice. He nodded approvingly.


    "You''ve already reached the second stage of Mag''Durotan in just one night. That''s impressive. Most of us can''t even reach the first stage after the first night with ourdy."


    Volk blinked in surprise.


    Second stage?


    He hadn''t even realized he had advanced.


    His confusion must have shown on his face because the old orc chuckled and stepped forward.


    "My name is Gozorm''al," the white-haired orc continued, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience. "Wee to the Wildling Camp. I am your elder."


    Gozorm''al reached out and ced a finger on Volk''s chest.


    For a moment, nothing happened, but then¡ªThum!¡ªVolk felt a surge of warm, heated blood that pulse from his chest spreading all over his body, like a deep, resonant power that seemed to reverberate in his bones.


    "That''s how you know how strong you are," Gozorm''al said, pulling back his hand with a satisfied grunt. He then turned and motioned for Volk to follow.


    "Come, there''s much to discuss. I will tell you what your responsibilities are as a warrior of our tribe."


    Volk hesitated for a moment, ncing back at the tower where Solluha''r slept.


    She seemed stable for now, and he knew he needed to understand what was happening to him.


    With a nod, he followed old man Gozorm''al, determined to learn what he needed to protect himself¡ªand her.


    As they walked through the camp, Volk''s mind raced with questions.


    What did it mean to be a Kaz''rogal?


    How had he advanced so quickly?


    And more importantly, what did that mean for Solluha''r, who had given so much of herself to him?


    Before he could ask, a glowing system screen appeared in front of him, hovering in mid-air:


    | Name: Volk Mog''ger


    | Status: Hornless Orc Tribe Kaz''rogal (Current Year)


    | Age: 18


    | Level: Second Stage Mag''Durotan


    | Passive Ability: Radioactive Form (Duration: Five Minutes) |


    Volk was confused as he followed Gozorm''al through the camp.


    The revtion that he had advanced to the Second Stage Mag''Durotan overnight was shocking enough, but what truly baffled him the most was the increase in his Radioactive Form''s duration.


    Five minutes?


    Last time he checked, it was only two minutes. How could it have increased so drastically?


    Could it be because of Solluha''r? he wondered.


    The connection between them had clearly amplified his power, but to this extent?


    It seemed almost unbelievable.


    He couldn''t help but feel a massive excitement to it.


    If simply being with her could make him this strong, what would happen if they repeated the process?


    Would he continue to grow in power? And more importantly, what would that mean for her?


    As these thoughts churned in his mind, his gaze returned to the glowing screen floating in front of him.


    The sight of the five-minutes duration on his Radioactive Form nearly made his heart stop again.


    Don''t tell me¡­ he thought.


    Does that mean if I really level up my rank as an Orc Warrior, the duration of my Radioactive Form will increase too?


    It seems Volk needed to know if there was a way to help her recover faster, but he was hoping there was a way to avoid putting her through that again.


    He couldn''t just stand by and wait for months while shey weakened.


    Respectfully, Volk approached Gozorm''al, his voice earnest andced with concern. "Elder Gozorm''al, how can I help my partner recover? Is there any way to shorten the three-month wait?"


    The old orc paused, turning to face Volk with a knowing grin.


    He let out a deep, heartyugh that echoed through the trees, drawing the attention of a few nearby warriors. "Ah, you''re like the others," Gozorm''al said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Impatient, just like I was when I was young."


    Volk felt his cheeks flush slightly, but he held his ground, determined to find an answer.


    Gozorm''al''sughter slowly subsided, and he regarded Volk with a more serious expression.


    "To help your lover recover," Gozorm''al began, "you must indeed wait for the three months to pass. Her body needs time to replenish the Mana she expended. It is the natural way, and there is wisdom in patience."


    Volk''s heart sank at the thought of waiting that long, but he nodded, preparing to ept the elder''s words. However, Gozorm''al suddenly paused, a glint of something else in his eye.


    "Or¡­" Gozorm''al continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "you could seek out Magical Crystals. These crystals contain immense amounts of Mana. If your partner consumes them, she could recover her energy much faster¡ªperhaps even in a matter of weeks instead of months."


    Volk''s eyes widened in surprise. "Magical Crystals?" he echoed, feeling a surge of hope. But almost as quickly, his excitement was dampened by Gozorm''al''s next words.


    "But," the elder cautioned, "you are not allowed to leave the tribe''s boundaries or enter the catbs yet. You''re not ready. You need to prove yourself with contributions to the tribe and grow stronger before you can venture into the dangerous areas where these crystals are found."


    Volk clenched his fists in frustration, his earlier hope slipping away. He had never been good at waiting, especially when someone he cared about was suffering.


    But he just nodded.


    Gozorm''al seemed to sense Volk''s inner thoughgs inside.


    With a stern expression, he reached to his side and drew out a weapon¡ªa long, curved de with intricate designs carved into its hilt. The old orc flipped the weapon in his hand before tossing it at Volk''s feet. The dended in the grass with a solid *thunk*, the metal gleaming in the sunlight.


    "Your training starts here," Gozorm''al dered, his voice carrying the weight ofmand. "If you wish to be strong enough to protect those you care about, get a crystal outside the tribe or enter a catb, you must first learn to master yourself and your power. Only then will you be ready to seek out what you desire."


    Volk stared down at the weapon below him. He hade here seeking answers, and in a way, he had found them. But they weren''t the answers he had hoped for.


    Even still, witb a deep breath, he bent down and picked up the de. Its weight wasforting in his hand, a reminder of the strength he would need to wield. He looked up at Gozorm''al, with an uknown determination hardening in his gaze.


    "I''m ready," Volk said, his voice steady.


    Gozorm''al nodded approvingly, making his lips curles nto a small smile. "Good. Let''s see if you have what it takes to be the Kaz''rogal we need."

 Chapter 15: Volk vs Gozormal 1/2

    The training grounds were alive with the rhythmic sh of steel, echoing through the air like a drumbeat.


    ng! ng! ng!


    The sounds of metal striking metal filled the clearing as Volk sparred with Gozorm''al under the watchful eyes of other orcs. Sweat dripped from Volk''s brow, his chest heaving with eachbored breath. His muscles ached, burning with the strain of the relentless training.


    No matter how hard he tried, Gozorm''al''s defense was imprable. Each strike, each lunge, was effortlessly parried or deflected by the elder orc.


    On the sidelines, a group of orcs watched the bout intently, their rough voices mixing with the sounds of battle. "Who''s Gozorm''al torturing this time?" one of them asked, a smirk on his face as he leaned on his battle-axe.


    Another orc, this one with a broad scar running across his chest, squinted at the twobatants. "I heard it''s the Kaz''rogal of this year," he replied, his voice tinged with curiosity. "They say his female is the biggest one anyone''s seen since thest symbiotic union celebration."


    The first orc raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "The Kaz''rogal? This year''s? Isn''t he supposed to be somebor orc?"


    "Aye," a third orc chimed in, joining the conversation. "Born from Labor Orcs, they say. Never thought I''d see the day aborer was named Kaz''rogal. It''s said his female''s size is a sign¡ªit might be the biggest since our ancestors!"


    The group fell into a thoughtful silence, their eyes fixed on Volk and Gozorm''al.


    There was an undercurrent of disbelief among them.


    Abor orc, no less, wielding the title of Kaz''rogal was something none of them had expected.


    The more they watched, the more curious they became, though none of them dared to voice their skepticism outright.


    Gozorm''al, for his part, seemed to be enjoying himself. He chuckled every time he deflected one of Volk''s attacks, responding to the shouts from the sidelines with a carefree wave of his hand. "Don''t be too hard on the kid!" one of the orcs called out, his voice tinged with amusement.


    Another orc grinned, "Hey, Kaz''rogal! Gonna let an old orc bully you like that?" he jeered, earning a ripple ofughter from the others.


    "He''s abor orc!" another shouted. "What do you expect? Swingin'' a pickaxe ain''t the same as swingin'' a sword!"


    Volk gritted his teeth, feeling the frustration mount with each taunt.


    Every attempt he made to strike Gozorm''al was met with a quick, precise counter, leaving him increasingly battered and bruised. His body screamed in protest, but the pain only fueled his desire to prate and hurt the old man and prove them wrong. What should I do? What should I do? he muttered under his breath, trying to find a way through Gozorm''al''s seemingly unbreakable defense.


    Gozorm''al, noticing Volk''s growing frustration, couldn''t resist mocking him further. "Are you really the Kaz''rogal?" he taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The weakest Kaz''rogal of them all, it seems! Others at least managed tond a hit!"


    Volk''s anger red at the insult, but he forced himself to stay focused. He wasn''t going to let the old orc''s words rattle him, not when so much was at stake. He needed to think, to find an opening, a weakness he could exploit.


    As he continued to study Gozorm''al, something clicked in Volk''s mind. The elder orc was muchrger than him, towering over him with a physique that seemed almost invincible. But with size came certain¡­vulnerabilities. His eyes traveled downward, assessing Gozorm''al''s stance, and a n began to form in his mind.


    Gozorm''al, seeing Volk hesitate, pointed his sword at him, a confident smirk on his lips. "Is that all you''ve got, Kaz''rogal?" he challenged. "You can change into your Grum-gar form if you want. I won''t hold it against you."


    Volk didn''t respond. His mind was trying to study the old Orc, calcting his next move. He could feel the eyes of the watching orcs on him, their expectations hanging in the air like a thick fog. But he ignored them, focusing solely on Gozorm''al and the opportunity thaty before him.


    With a sudden burst of energy, Volk drove his sword into the earth, sending a cloud of dirt flying up into the air.


    Thum!


    The dirt sprayed everywhere, and Gozorm''al instinctively raised his arm to shield his eyes from the attack.


    But before Gozorm''al could fully recover, Volk was already moving. He dropped to the ground, sliding beneath Gozorm''al''s guard in a blur of motion. Gozorm''al''s eyes widened in surprise as Volk closed in on his target¡ªhis little brother between his massive thighs.


    With all the strength he could muster, Volk swung his sword upward. ng! That part was armored but the impact was loud, as if the sound of metal striking metal resonating through the training grounds. It has a metal shield but it was a direct hit, right where Volk had aimed.


    The entire training ground fell silent.


    The orcs who had beenughing and jeering moments before now started in stunned disbelief, their eyes wide with shock. Gozorm''al himself was frozen, his expression a mixture of pain, shock, and grudging admiration.


    For a moment, nobody moved.


    The only sound was the faint rustle of the wind through the trees. Then, as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in, the silence was shattered by a collective gasp from the crowd.


    One of the orcs on the sidelines broke the tension with a loud, incredulousugh. "Did you see that? The kid actually did it!"


    Another orc doubled over, clutching his stomach as heughed. "Right in the little Gozorm''al! Hahahhaha!"


    Another one made a remark while clutching his stomach, "Even if it''s protected by armor, it must have hurt a lot! Haha! Haha! Haha!"


    Gozorm''al, still reeling from the unexpected attack, slowly straightened up, his face a mix of pain and grudging respect. He let out a pained grunt, shaking his head as he looked down at Volk, who was now on his feet, breathing heavily, but with a look of grim satisfaction on his face.


    "Well," Gozorm''al said, his voice strained but amused. "You''ve got guts, kid. I''ll give you that."


    Volk, still panting from the exertion, met Gozorm''al''s gaze with a steady look. "You said to use whatever means necessary," he replied, his voice hoarse but defiant.


    The other orcs, still in varying states of shock and amusement, began to cheer and shout, their earlier jests forgotten in the wake of Volk''s unexpected victory.


    "Looks like we''ve got a real Kaz''rogal here!" one of them shouted, pping another orc on the back.


    "Maybe there''s more to thisbor orc than we thought!" another called out, grinning broadly.


    Volk could hardly believe it himself. He had done it. He had finallynded a hit on Gozorm''al, and in the most unexpected way possible.


    As the realization settled in, he felt a surge of pride and determination. He had a long way to go, but this was the first step toward proving himself, not just as the Kaz''rogal, but as a true warrior of the tribe.


    Gozorm''al, still rubbing his sore spot, gave Volk a nod of approval. "Alright, Kaz''rogal," he said, his tone more respectful now. "Let''s see what else you''ve got."

 Chapter 16: Volk vs Gozormal 2/2

    The mor of the training ground reached a fever pitch as Volk and Gozorm''al squared off once more.


    The elder orc''s demeanor had shifted, the yful mockery reced with a stern, unyielding focus. His movements were no longer leisurely or taunting; every swing of his sword now carried the weight of years of experience and raw power.


    The air hummed with tension, whoosh! as Gozorm''al''s de cut through the air, barely missing Volk by a hair''s breadth. Thud! Volk dodged, feeling the impact of the missed strike vibrate through the ground beneath his feet.


    The watching orcs, seeing the change in Gozorm''al''s approach, began to shout out taunts, their voices loud and boisterous. "Oi, Gozorm''al! Did the kid hurt you where it counts?!" one of them yelled, a wide grin splitting his face. "You look like you''re actually trying now, old man!"


    Another orc joined in, pping his knee inughter. "Take it easy, Gozorm''al! You don''t need to lose your temper just because the little Kaz''rogal got one up on you!"


    "Careful, old orc! We don''t need you pulling a muscle!" another hollered, his voice full of mock concern. "The tribe can''t afford to lose its elder to a duel with a bor orc*!"


    "Did that hit between the legs make you remember your youth, old man?!" a fourth orc called out, hisughter ringing through the air. "Maybe Volk should take it easy on you before you keel over!"


    "Come on, Gozorm''al!" yet another orc bellowed. "Don''t let a little tap down there ruin your day! We know you''re old, but don''t go dying on us from shame!"


    The crowd''s jibes fueled Gozorm''al''s growing anger, his face darkening with each taunt. His green skin was taking on a reddish hue, a sign of the fury building within him.


    Volk could see the shift in the elder orc''s posture¡ªhis strikes were harder, faster, each swing aimed with deadly intent.


    ng! ng!


    Their swords collided with a force that sent shivers up Volk''s arms, the impact of the blows rattling his bones.


    Despite the increased intensity, Volk felt a thrill of excitement coursing through him. The challenge was exhrating.


    Every time he evaded a strike or parried an attack, he felt his confidence grow.


    Thud!


    Gozorm''al''s de crashed into the ground where Volk had just been standing, sending a spray of dirt and debris into the air. Whoosh! Another swing, narrowly avoided, left Volk''s heart pounding in his chest.


    But Volk''s thoughts were not on survival alone. He realized that if he could master weaponbat, he wouldn''t have to rely on his radioactive form all the time. This was a chance to grow, to be a true warrior, and he was determined to seize it.


    "Attack me for real, Kaz''rogal!" Gozorm''al''s voice boomed across the training ground, filled with frustration. He was no longer interested in ying games.


    Volk didn''t hesitate. He repeated the trick that had worked before¡ªdriving his sword into the ground to kick up a cloud of dirt.


    Thum!


    The earth erupted in a dusty plume, obscuring Gozorm''al''s vision for a brief moment. Volk slid forward, aiming to strike low once more, but Gozorm''al was ready this time. With a grunt of effort, the old orc jumped back, narrowly avoiding Volk''s sword as it sliced through the air where his legs had been. Swish!


    The surrounding orcs erupted into cheers, their voices a cacophony of support for Volk. "That''s it, Volk! Show him what a real Kaz''rogal is made of!" one of them shouted, his fist pumping in the air.


    "He''s got the moves! None of the other Kaz''rogals had the guts to pull a trick like that!" another cheered, his voice full of admiration. "This year''s Kaz''rogal is a real warrior!"


    "Volk''s making history right here! Who cares if he''s from thebor caste? He''s showing all those other Kaz''rogals up!" a third orc added, his voice loud with pride.


    "Forget the past! Volk''s the only Kaz''rogal worth remembering!" a fourth orc bellowed, his words met with a roar of agreement from the crowd.


    The orcs were no longer just watching a duel; they were witnessing something extraordinary¡ªabor orc proving himself not just as a worthy Kaz''rogal, but as a warrior who could outshine even the best of the tribe.


    Gozorm''al, however, was far from amused. His earlier irritation had now morphed into full-blown rage.


    The elder orc''s pride had been wounded, not just by Volk''s earlier strike but by the relentless taunts of his peers. His green skin was flushed, a deep red that spoke of a temper on the edge of exploding.


    Thud! Thud!


    His strikes grew heavier, the ground trembling with each blow. He was no longer pulling his punches¡ªhe intended to make Volk pay for the humiliation he had caused.


    Volk, for his part, was unfazed. Each of Gozorm''al''s attacks was met with a calm, calcted response. ng! ng! He deflected the blows with precision, his movements smooth and controlled.


    He could see the anger clouding Gozorm''al''s judgment, making his attacks more predictable, and Volk used this to his advantage. He danced around the elder orc, his steps light and agile, evading each swing with a grace that belied his size. Whoosh! Thud!


    The more Gozorm''al''s frustration grew, the more Volk seemed to thrive. He could feel the power of the fight coursing through him, sharpening his instincts and heightening his senses. And in the back of his mind, he knew that even if things went south, his Radioactive Form would kick in automatically, a safeguard against any real danger.


    This knowledge emboldened him, giving him the confidence to push Gozorm''al further.


    But as the fight wore on, the crowd began to notice the change in Gozorm''al.


    The elder orc''s usualposure was gone, reced by a wild, almost desperate fury. His swings were erratic, his focus solely onnding a hit on Volk rather than fighting with his usual skill.


    The taunts from the crowd had done their job¡ªGozorm''al was losing control.


    "Uh-oh, the old man''s really losing it," one of the orcs muttered, theughter in his voice fading.


    "Looks like Volk got under his skin for real," another added, his tone more cautious now.


    "Watch out, Volk! Gozorm''al''s gonna snap!" a third orc warned, his eyes wide with concern.


    The realization spread quickly among the onlookers.


    What had started as a routine sparring match had turned into something far more dangerous. Gozorm''al, the elder orc who had always been a pir of strength and discipline, was on the verge of losing himself to his anger.


    But Volk, ever sharp, noticed this as well. He wasn''t just fighting a powerful orc now; he was fighting an orc on the edge, and that made him all the more dangerous.


    Yet Volk didn''t flinch.


    He knew he had to stay calm, to use Gozorm''al''s anger against him, and to prove once and for all that he was worthy of the title Kaz''rogal.


    As Gozorm''al raised his sword for another powerful swing, Volk made his move.

 Chapter 17: Stoppage

    As Volk prepared tounch his next attack, with his muscles tensed and eyes locked on Gozorm''al, the tension in the air was shattered by the sudden arrival of an unknown orc.


    Thud!


    A massive handnded on Volk''s shoulder, pulling him back just as he was about to spring forward. "Hold up, kid!" the orc barked, his voice booming over the mor of the training ground.


    Before Volk could respond, another orc stepped in, and then another, until several burly figures stood between him and the enraged Gozorm''al.


    The air hummed with tension as the crowd of orcs, who had moments ago been cheering and taunting, now shifted their tone. "Old man, calm yourself down!" one of the orcs called out, his voice a mix of amusement and caution. "You''re only supposed to strengthen to the fourth stage of Mag''Durotan! No need to go further!"


    "Yeah, Gozorm''al!" another orc added,ughing. "You''re training a young orc, not trying to kill him!"


    "Take it easy, old man!" a third voice chimed in, this one tinged with a teasing edge. "We know you''re strong, but there''s no need to show off by breaking the kid in half!"


    The orcs surrounding Gozorm''al continued to voice their yful admonishments, each one trying to diffuse the old orc''s anger with light-hearted jests.


    Despite their happy tones, it was clear that they were trying to prevent the situation from escting further.


    Gozorm''al''s eyes still zed with fury, but the chorus of voices seemed to be getting through to him.


    Thud! Thud!


    He finally lowered his weapon, his heavy breathing slowly beginning to calm, though the tension in his massive frame remained palpable.


    Meanwhile, another orc¡ªa warrior with a rugged, scarred face¡ªstepped up to Volk and pulled him away from the scene,ughing heartily.


    Ha! Ha! Ha!


    The sound was deep and booming, echoing across the training ground. "You really are something, kid!" the orc said, pping Volk on the back with enough force to make him stagger. "Managed to piss off old man Gozorm''al that much, huh? No one''s ever done that before! You''re an animal!"


    Volk, still catching his breath and trying to process what had just happened, looked up at the orc in surprise. "But I think from their words, I almost got myself killed¡­" he muttered, the reality of how close he''de to serious harm starting to sink in.


    The orc grinned, his sharp tusks gleaming in the light. "You almost did, alright!" he said, his tone a mix of admiration and amusement. "That old man was a peak stage of Brute Mending, one of the strongest powerhouses in this tribe. And his Grum-gar? It''s on the third level, which means his aura together with his physique at peak can be strengthened to a twenty-six stage Mag''Durotan powerhouse level!


    You''re lucky you didn''t get your head knocked clean off!"


    Volk''s eyes widened in shock.


    ording to the memories of the Orc he had upied, their peak physical prowess was called tenth stage Mag''Durotan. However, when they took on the mysterious "Grum-gar" transformation, their capabilities would undergo aplicated transformation.


    Rather than a direct increase from the Mag''Durotan''s ten, the Grum-gar form seemed to start from a base of two - half the original peak. But this base held untapped potential. By multiplying it by two, again and again, a powerful progression unfolded.


    First, two became four. Then four multiplied by two resulted in eight. Doubling eight yielded sixteen.


    Yet, this was not the end of the transformation. The Orc''s original Mag''Durotan form of ten was then added to the Grum-gar''s culminating sixteen, resulting in a staggering final tally of twenty-six.


    He knew Grum-gar form was strong, but he hadn''t realized just how powerful an orc would be who can turn into this. "What''s going to happen to me now?" he asked, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice.


    The orc who had pulled him awayughed again, this time more softly. "Don''t worry, kid. He can''t turn into his fifth form freely, he was on decline due to old age and because of the hazardous magic particles on his body, maybe he can only morph his Grum-far form twice now.


    Plus, once the old man calms down, instead of making things harder for you, he''ll probably reward you." Seeing the disbelief on Volk''s face, the orc continued, "It''s true! It means you, Kaz''rogal, are strong. Strong enough to piss him off inbat. He might even give you something valuable."


    Volk raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "For real?"


    The orc nodded emphatically. "For real! He said it himself¡ªif a younger orc can manage to anger him during apetency test, it means the tribe is elevating, getting stronger. And he rewards anyone who can do that. That''s why everyone was so happy to see him angry. They know it means you''ve got potential."


    Volk was speechless.


    Orcs were that unpredictable?


    The body he upied had grown up among them, but this was a side of his people he had never fully understood. It was both baffling and¡­ exhrating.


    The respect that came from earning the ire of such a powerful elder¡ªit was more than he had ever expected.


    The orc grinned at Volk''s reaction. "Name''s Orzuk, by the way," he said, extending a hand. "Son of Grogthar, the tribe''s chief weapon master." His tone was proud but friendly, and Volk could see that this orc was someone of importance in the tribe.


    Volk grasped Orzuk''s hand firmly, his own grip still a bit shaky from the intense encounter. "Nice to meet you, Orzuk. I''m Volk Mog''ger¡­ aborer," he said, thest parting out almost automatically.


    Orzukughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made the other orcs nearby turn to see what was so amusing. "Aborer, huh? Not anymore, Volk! You''re the Kaz''rogal of this year! You should be proud of that. Only a few orcs in our tribe ever bear that title, and you''re one of them so you should stand proud.


    Add it to your name, Volk Mog''ger, the Kaz''rogal of this year!"


    Volk nodded, the weight of his new role settling on his shoulders. It was still strange to him, being seen as more than just aborer, but he could feel the pride swelling in his chest at Orzuk''s words. He was Kaz''rogal, and it''s just starting to settle in his head now.


    That meant something¡ªsomething big.


    Before Volk could say anything more, Orzuk reached into a pouch at his side and pulled out a small, glittering crystal. It shimmered with a faint, otherworldly light, catching Volk''s eye immediately. "Here," Orzuk said, handing the crystal to Volk. "You might need this. It''s a Mana Crystal. Use it wisely."


    Volk stared at the crystal, feeling the energy emanating from it. He had heard of these before¡ªrare and powerful, capable of restoring Mana to those who needed it. It was exactly what Solluha''r needed to recover faster, to regain her strength so they could¡­ No, he couldn''t let his thoughts drift there right now. He had to focus.


    "Thank you," Volk said, his voice sincere. He looked up at Orzuk, seeing a hint of approval in the older orc''s eyes.


    Just as Volk was about to pocket the crystal, he noticed Orzuk ncing back at him with a curious expression. "Don''t tell me you''re thinking of using that on your partner?" Orzuk''s tone was incredulous, and for a moment, Volk didn''t know how to respond.


    "Isn''t that normal?" Volk finally managed to say, his voice uncertain. In his limited experience within the tribe, it seemed like everything revolved around Mana and the strengthening of bonds through it. Why wouldn''t he use it on Solluha''r?


    Orzuk''s response was immediate and filled withughter. "Ha! Ha! Ha! No, no, no!" He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as hisughter subsided. "Seriously though, that Mana Crystal in your hand is empty.


    It''s meant for Wildling Mag''Durotan like you to use during tasks inside the n. It''s not for anything special like entering catbs or enhancing your partner."


    Volk blinked, absorbing the information. "Then¡­ what do I do with it?"

 Chapter 18: Butcher Meat Shop

    Orzuk smiled, though his expression was now more serious. "You''ll need to help out around the n, contribute to the tribe. It''s part of your responsibility as Kaz''rogal. You might assist with weaponry, help with food distribution, or even help build towers for the elves. You can choose where you want to contribute¡ªthat''s your reward as Kaz''rogal.


    But remember, even though you have the title, your contribution needs to be consistent. The crystal records it all. If you getzy, you won''t be given the same amount of Magic Crystal as others who are contributing."


    Volk was speechless.


    This was moreplex than he had imagined.


    The title of Kaz''rogal came with privileges, but it also came with responsibilities that he hadn''t considered. Before he could ask more questions, Orzuk pped him on the shoulder. "Good luck, Volk. Don''t let that old man get to you," he said with a grin before turning and walking away, leaving Volk standing alone in the bustling area outside the training ground.


    As Orzuk''s figure disappeared into the crowd, Volk''s gaze shifted around the camp.


    This wasn''t the typical orc settlement he had expected.


    Instead of tents and crude huts, the tribe lived in solid houses made of brick, some towering high above the ground, while others were nestled closely together, forming narrow alleyways.


    Some parts of the camp were clean and orderly, with well-maintained roads and tidy homes, while others were dirty, with mud and refuse littering the streets.


    Towers loomed in the distance, their stone faces weathered by time, and Volk could see orcs moving about on them, standing watch or maintaining the structure.


    Volk began walking, taking in the sights and sounds of the camp.


    The air was thick with the smell of smoke, wood, and something else¡ªsomething metallic and sharp that he couldn''t quite ce. His steps led him through a maze of medieval establishments.


    He passed by a cksmith''s forge, where the rhythmic ng! ng! of hammer on metal echoed in the air.


    The cksmith, a hulking orc with soot-stained green skin, was pounding away at a glowing de, sparks flying with each strike.


    Volk considered stopping to help, imagining himself learning the craft, but something pulled him further along.


    Next, he passed a construction site where orcs were working together to build a new tower.


    The sound of stone grinding against stone, the creak of wooden beams being lifted into ce, and the shouts of orcs coordinating their efforts filled the air.


    Volk thought about joining in, helping to erect a structure that would stand for generations, but somehow, his body kept walking.


    As he wandered, he passed by a food distribution area, where orcs were handing out baskets of vegetables and grains.


    The scene reminded him of how little he had actually eaten since arriving in this world. He thought about the meals he had back on Earth, the simple pleasure of eating, and he felt a pang of nostalgia. But the orcs here didn''t seem to eat much, relying more on Mana for sustenance.


    This fact only deepened his curiosity.


    Finally, Volk''s wandering brought him to a meat establishment.


    The sight made him stop in his tracks.


    The building was sturdier than the others, with thick wooden beams and a sign hanging over the door that depicted a b of meat on a bone.


    Inside, the air was cooler, the temperature maintained by some kind of enchantment, and the scent of raw meat hung heavy in the air.


    Thunk! Thunk!


    The sound of cleavers hitting cutting boards echoed through the space.


    The walls were lined with hooks from which hungrge cuts of meat¡ªbs of red flesh, some with bone still attached, others neatly trimmed and wrapped in parchment.


    It was a surprising sight in a tribe that didn''t seem to value eating much.


    As Volk stood there, taking it all in, an orc wearing a butcher''s apron approached him.


    The orc wasrge, even by orc standards, with broad shoulders and a belly that hinted at a life spent indulging in the goods he sold. His skin was a deep green, almost the color of moss, and his tusks were chipped and worn, suggesting a life of hard work. His eyes were sharp, though, glinting with intelligence and curiosity.


    "Looking to buy some meat?" the butcher asked, his voice rough like gravel.


    Volk shook his head, still trying to make sense of it all. "No, I¡­ I was just wondering why there''s meat here. I thought orcs didn''t eat much, just vegetables and such."


    The butcherughed, a deep, booming sound that filled the small shop. "Ha! You must be new around here, kid. Orcs are omnivores, kid. We love meat, but it''s not easy toe by. These cutse from the creatures in the forest, but you can''t just eat them raw.


    They''re saturated with hazardous magic particles, the same kind that''s out there beyond the tribe''s borders."


    Volk''s curiosity deepened. "Hazardous magic particles? You mean like the kind of magic that''s in the air?"


    The butcher nodded, wiping his hands on his apron. "Exactly. The forest outside is teeming with it. Everything out there¡ªnts, animals, the very air you breathe¡ªit''s all charged with those hazardous magic particles. It''s dangerous to eat these things without proper preparation. That''s where Ie in.


    I cleanse the meat, making it safe for consumption. It takes time, but it''s worth it for a good meal."


    Volk was fascinated.


    The thought of eating meat again, something so familiar from his life on Earth, made his mouth water. But the idea of radioactive properties intrigued him even more.


    Could his body, altered by this world, handle the radiation? Or could it somehow absorb it, like how he harnessed the Mana in the air?


    After all, isn''t he a radioactive creature?


    As the butcher continued to exin the process, Volk''s vision suddenly blurred, and a familiar ding! rang in his ears.


    A notification appeared in front of his eyes, the words glowing softly in the dim light of the shop:


    | Ding!


    | Would you like to use the Radioactive Absorption ability? |


    Volk stood in the butcher''s shop, his curiosity still piqued by the radioactive properties of the meat hanging around him that he ignored the system screen in front of him.


    When he turned his attention to it, he saw the reward that was given to himst time but something inside him made him refuse it. He wasn''t here for power¡ªat least not right now.


    He wanted to understand this world, to learn more about the dangers lurking beyond the safety of the tribe''s borders.


    "Huh," Volk said, as if musing aloud. "So that''s the danger outside, huh? But¡­ can''t we find ces with less of these hazardous magic particles? You know, better ces for food?"


    The butcher, who had been wiping down a cleaver, paused and shook his head slowly. "It ain''t that simple, kid. You don''t get it yet. We''re hunted, see? By the two strongest rulers of this realm. Dark Witches and Red Warlocks.


    To them, we''re like their favorite prey. Even if we found somewhere without hazardous magic particles, it wouldn''t matter. Those bastards would track us down eventually. The only ces they avoid are the ones like this¡ªsaturated with radioactive energy. So, we''ve got no choice but to stay in these dangerous areas. Keeps us hidden, keeps us alive¡­ for a while, at least."

 Chapter 19: Radioactive Absorption

    Volk felt a chill run down his spine.


    The butcher''s tone was matter-of-fact, almost resigned, as if he''d long since epted the tribe''s fate. "The other tribes," Volk asked, trying to understand, "the hornless ones scattered across thend¡­ they''re living in radioactive zones too?"


    The butcher nodded. "You bet. It''s the only way to avoid being hunted down one by one. I''ve seen it happen, kid. I''ve lived it. Back before we moved here, I was part of a smaller tribe.


    We were picked off like flies."


    Volk noticed the butcher''s grip tighten on the cleaver as he spoke, his knuckles whitening beneath the green of his skin. The old orc took a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and then began to recount his story.


    "Back then, we lived in a ce far from here. Thend was fertile, the air was clean¡ªno hazardous magic particles, nothing like that. It was perfect¡­ too perfect. We thought we were safe, thought we could live in peace. But then they came. The Dark Witches and Red Warlocks."


    The butcher''s voice took on a darker, haunted tone as he continued, his words heavy with the weight of old memories. "They came at night, like shadows, creeping into our camp. We didn''t even hear them until it was toote. They ughtered the elders first, the ones who knew the most about protecting the tribe. They didn''t even bother with spells¡ªthey just cut them down, one by one."


    Volk could see the pain etched into the butcher''s face, the deep lines that spoke of loss and despair. But the old orc didn''t stop, couldn''t stop. The memories flowed from him like a river, unstoppable and raw.


    "We tried to fight back, but what could we do? They were too powerful, their magic too strong. We lost so many that night. My brother¡­ my sister¡­ they didn''t make it. I can still hear their screams sometimes, when I close my eyes."


    The butcher''s hands trembled as he wiped them on his apron, his gaze distant as he relived the horrors of that night. "We had no choice but to run. We scattered, hid in the forests, in caves, anywhere we thought they couldn''t find us. But it didn''t matter. They hunted us down, one by one. Those who were caught¡­ well, you don''t want to know what they did to them."


    Volk swallowed hard, his throat tight with sympathy. He couldn''t imagine the terror the butcher must have felt, the helplessness of watching his tribe be torn apart. "How did you survive?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    The butcher let out a bitterugh. "Survive? I don''t know if I''d call it that. I just¡­ kept moving, kept hiding. Eventually, I found my way to this ce, to the Orc tribe. They took me in, gave me a purpose.


    But I never forgot what happened. None of us did."


    The butcher finally looked up at Volk, his eyes hard with resolve. "That''s why we stay in these radioactive zones. It''s dangerous, sure, but it''s safer than the alternative. Out there, beyond the tribe''s borders, it''s a different kind of hell."


    Volk nodded, finally understanding the tribe''s precarious position. The butcher''s story had shed light on the harsh realities of this world, and the sacrifices the tribe had made to survive. He felt a deep respect for the orcs who had endured so much, who had fought tooth and nail just to keep their people alive.


    The butcher seemed to shake off his dark memories, his tone softening as he returned to the present. "But enough about that. You''re here to take responsibility, right?"


    Volk nodded again, more determined than ever. "Yeah. I want to help."


    The butcher grinned, the tension easing from his face. "Good. There''s not much to do here but chop meat and store it until the hazardous magic particles withers away. It takes time, but it''s necessary."


    Volk hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I can do that."


    The butcher pped him on the shoulder. "Name''s Grak''thor, by the way. Now, let''s get to work. First thing''s first¡ªcarry some of these big bs inside. But before that, check the meat. Make sure it''s not too fresh, or it''ll be too dangerous to handle."


    Volk followed Grak''thor into the back of the shop, where the air was even colder, the smell of meat was more pungent. The walls were lined with racks holding various cuts, each onebeled with a strange script that Volk couldn''t read.


    Grak''thor moved to a table where arge chunk of meaty, his cleaver at the ready. "Just make sure you don''t use your bare hands, alright? There''s a handle on the side of each b for a reason."


    Volk nodded, though he couldn''t help but feel a strange pull as he approached the meat. His hand reached out, and without thinking, he grabbed the b barehanded. He could feel the weight of it, the coldness seeping into his skin. But he was focused on something else¡ªthe strange tingling sensation that ran up his arm, the familiar buzz of his radioactive absorption ability kicking in.


    Grak''thor turned to look at Volk just as he was about to start chopping. His eyes widened in shock as he saw what was happening. "No! Don''t use your hands¡ª" His words died in his throat as he saw something even more shocking.


    Volk didn''t notice at first, but as he lifted the meat, he saw it¡ªa thin stream of energy, like a snake made of green light, slithering from the meat and into his hand.


    It twisted and coiled, wrapping around his fingers before disappearing into his skin.


    The sensation was strange, almost ticklish, but not unpleasant. He watched in stunned silence as the hazardous magic particles flowed into him, the meat''s once vibrant color dulling slightly as it lost its radioactive charge.


    Grak''thor was frozen in ce, his mouth hanging open in utter disbelief. "Wh-what¡­ what the¡­ WHAAAAAAAT?" His voice was a mixture of shock and confusion, his eyes glued to the scene before him.


    He stepped closer, his hands trembling as he reached out, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "The hazardous magic particles¡­ it''s¡­ it''s going into your hand!" His voice rose in pitch, his disbelief turning into something bordering on panic. "How¡­ How is this even possible? I''ve never seen anything like this in all my years!"


    Volk didn''t know what to say, his mind racing as he felt thest of the hazardous magic particles seep into his body. He flexed his fingers, feeling a new kind of energy coursing through him, different from the regr Mana he had absorbed before. It was rawer, more potent, and yet it didn''t harm him. If anything, he felt stronger.


    Grak''thor was still staring at him, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to form words. "WHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATT!!?" The sound echoed through the shop, bouncing off the stone walls and reverberating in the enclosed space.


    The butcher scrambled over to Volk, grabbing his hands and inspecting them frantically. "Where did it go? The hazardous magic particles¡­ where is it? Are you¡­ are you okay? You should be glowing green or something! How¡­ how are you not dead?"


    Volk gently pulled his hands away, trying to calm the panicked orc. "Grak''thor, rx. It''s my ability. I can absorb hazardous magic particles. It''s¡­ it''s normal for me."


    Grak''thor''s eyes widened even further, his face going from shock to something even more extreme. His mouth opened, but no sound came out for a moment as he stared at Volk, processing the revtion. When he finally spoke, his voice was a whisper, almost reverent. "You¡­ you can absorb hazardous magic particles? That''s¡­ that''s¡­"


    Suddenly, Grak''thor went mute, making the room filled with an awkward, tense quiet silence. His expression was unreadable, a mix of awe, fear, and something else that Volk couldn''t quite ce.


    The silence stretched on, the only sound the faint drip of water from somewhere deeper in the shop.


    Without warning, Grak''thor turned and hurried into the back room, leaving Volk standing there, unsure of what to do.

 Chapter 20: No Shaman, only smash!

    Volk waited.


    The shop was eerily quiet, save for the faint creaking of the wooden beams and the soft rustle of hanging meats swaying in the slight draft.


    Then, without warning, a system notification shed before his eyes.


    | Ding!


    | Nuclear Devastation Strike charging (1/9) |


    Volk blinked in surprise, his mind racing. "Nine?" he muttered to himself. He hadn''t seen that number before.


    His thoughts drifted to Solluha''r, the beautiful elven witch he had been with the night before.


    Could their passionate union have somehow influenced her abilities, making him benefit too? It made sense, in a way.


    If their bond had strengthened her Mana maniption, it wasn''t too far-fetched to think it might have boosted his powers as well.


    "One in nine¡­ does that mean I could actually use this Nuclear Devastation Botanical p nine times?"


    Volk wondered aloud.


    He still has no idea what this is, he couldn''t get out to try it in secret yet.


    He was curious¡ªno, he was desperate to know what this Nuclear Devastation Botanical p was and the number of nine representing it.


    What is the Nuclear Devastation p even, what more Botanical added to it?


    What does this number represent?


    Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke through his thoughts.


    Volk looked up just in time to see Grak''thor returning, and his eyes widened in shock.


    The old orc was carrying a massive horn-like trumpet, its size dwarfing the stout butcher''s frame.


    Grak''thor''s expression was one of determination, his steps quick and purposeful as he prepared to blow into the instrument.


    "Wait!" Volk shouted, raising a hand to stop him.


    Grak''thor halted in his tracks, his eyes narrowing in confusion.


    He looked at Volk, clearly puzzled by the interruption, as if silently asking, "Why?"


    Volk took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. "Listen," he began, his tone serious.


    "I know that shamans are rare, that it''s umon for an orc to possess magical abilities. And I also know that if I''m seen as one, if I be a shaman, I''ll be protected. But that''s not what I want, Grak''thor."


    The butcher''s brows furrowed as Volk continued.


    "I don''t want to be shielded. I want to be in the thick of the fight. I want to face danger head-on, to grow stronger with every battle. How am I supposed to do that if I''m stuck in a shaman''s hut, kept safe and away from the front lines? That''s not who I am. Sir Grak''thor, I am Grum-gar awakened."


    Grak''thor stared at him for a long moment, his eyes boring into Volk''s as if trying to read his very soul.


    Eventually, the silence stretched, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them. Finally, Grak''thor sighed heavily, lowering the trumpet.


    "Alright, alright," Grak''thor said, his voice a mix of resignation and respect.


    "You''re a Grum-gar awakener, a special kind of warrior in our tribe. Not every orc has that kind of power, and now I understand why you awakened it. You have the heart of a fighter. If I called everyone out now, I''d be destroying what you are¡ªwhat you were meant to be."


    Volk felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had been afraid that Grak''thor wouldn''t understand, that the old orc would blow the trumpet anyway, summoning the entire tribe to witness his abilities.


    But Grak''thor got it.


    He understood Volk''s desire to remain on the battlefield, to carve his own path through blood and sweat.


    As Grak''thor turned to go back inside, he paused, a thought seeming to strike his head with an idea.


    He turned back to Volk, with a curiosity gleaming in his eyes.


    "Can you remove all the hazardous magic particles inside a body?"


    Volk hesitated, unsure. "I¡­ I don''t know. I can try."


    Grak''thor extended his wrist toward Volk, who took it carefully. He focused, trying to activate his ability, but nothing happened.


    The seconds ticked by, the tension growing until finally, Grak''thor shook his head and pulled his hand away.


    "Forget it," Grak''thor muttered, more to himself than to Volk.


    "It only works with the meat." But then, his eyes lit up with a sudden thought.


    "But if it only works with the meat¡­ does that mean we could enjoy meat without hazardous magic particles? After all, doesn''t that hazard make the taste unfavorable?"


    Volk''s eyes widened in realization.


    Grak''thor was right!


    What if they could actually eat the meat without any of the dangerous magic?


    The thought was thrilling, not just because it would make the food safer, but because Volk was eager to experience what real orcish meat might taste like, untainted by the hazardous magic particles.


    "We should cook it!" Volk suggested, his voice filled with excitement.


    Grak''thor grinned.


    Without wasting a moment, they set to work.


    They selected a few choice cuts of meat, now devoid of the hazardous particles thanks to Volk''s abilities.


    Grak''thor led the way to a fire pit just outside the shop, where they began to gather wood and kindling.


    The orcish butcher moved with surprising speed and precision, his years of experience evident in the way he expertly prepared the fire.


    As the mes crackled to life, they positioned the meat over the heat, letting it cook slowly, allowing the juices to flow and the aroma to fill the air.


    The scent was intoxicating, rich and savory, unlike anything Volk had ever smelled before. His mouth watered in anticipation, his hunger growing with each passing moment.


    Grak''thor stood beside him, tending to the fire, a look of contentment on his face.


    "This reminds me of the old days," he said, his voice wistful. "Back before everything went to hell. We used to have feasts like this all the time, back when meat was just meat, and we didn''t have to worry about all this magic nonsense."


    Volk nodded, his thoughts drifting to his own past, to the life he had lived before finding himself in this strange world.


    It felt like a lifetime ago, a distant memory that was fading with each new experience he had here.


    As the meat cooked, they both waited with bated breath.


    The minutes felt like hours, they were bing eager and eager. And finally, after a while, the meat was done, the skin charred just right, and it seems the inside were cooked to perfection.


    Grak''thor carefully removed the meat from the fire, setting it on a wooden b.


    The juices sizzled as they dripped onto the hot surface, the smell making Volk''s stomach growl in response.


    Grak''thor handed Volk a piece, and without hesitation, Volk took a bite.


    The vor exploded in his mouth, rich and sulent, with a depth he hadn''t expected. It was unlike anything he had ever tasted before¡ªboth familiar and entirely new.


    The absence of the hazardous magic particles made the meat taste pure, untainted, and it was a revtion.


    Every bite was a new experience, each one better than thest.


    Grak''thor watched him with a grin, clearly pleased with Volk''s reaction. "Good, isn''t it?"


    Volk nodded, unable to speak through his full mouth.


    He hadn''t realized how much he had missed the simple pleasure of eating until now.


    This was more than just a meal¡ªit was a celebration, a moment of shared joy in a world filled with danger and uncertainty.

 Chapter 21: Grakthors gift

    As thest bit of meat disappeared from the fire, Volk wiped his mouth, while his thoughts drifted as the vors lingered on his tongue.


    The fire crackled softly in front of him, with its embers glowing with a fading warmth that matched the quiet satisfaction in Volk''s heart.


    Suddenly, when he tried to hold another meat and use absorption to it, he paused. And then he pressed to absorb again, but it didn''t work.


    "I can''t absorb hazardous magic particles anymore?" he muttered, the question slipping out almost involuntarily. His brow furrowed as he tried to sense the flow of magic around him, but there was nothing. It was as if his ability had simply switched off.


    Grak''thor, who had been equally absorbed in the aftermath of their feast, looked up at Volk''s question. His lips twitched, and then he burst into a heartyugh, the sound rolling out like thunder through the still air.


    "HA-HA-HA! Don''t you worry about that,d!" Grak''thor''s voice boomed, shaking the very walls of the butcher shop. "Everything has its limits. You''ve done a lot of absorbing today, and even your power needs a break! But trust me,e tomorrow, you''ll be back at it, soaking up all that hazardous magic like a sponge."


    Volk''s face rxed, though a hint of worry still lingered. But Grak''thor''s infectiousugh soon banished those concerns, and Volk found himself grinning along with the old orc. It was reassuring, knowing that even his abilities needed time to recharge.


    "Besides," Grak''thor continued, reaching for a clean piece of animal skin, its surface unmarred by any trace of hazardous magic particles, "that was a great eating ceremony! Here, take this to your partner too."


    Volk''s smile widened, and he epted the offering gratefully. "Thanks for not forgetting, Grak''thor," he said, his voice warm with appreciation.


    "HA-HA-HA! How could I forget? You and your partner deserve to enjoy this feast too." Grak''thor''sughter rumbled out again, his eyes twinkling with mirth. But then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he paused, his expression growing more serious.


    "Wait here," he said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for argument.


    Volk''s eyes widened in surprise as Grak''thor stood up and disappeared into the back of the shop. He was left holding the animal skin with the cooked meat, with the warmth of the fire in front of him contrasting with the cool night air.


    He poked at the embers absentmindedly, his mind buzzing with curiosity.


    What was Grak''thor up to now?


    The minutes stretched on, and just as Volk began to wonder if the old orc had forgotten about him, Grak''thor reappeared.


    Volk''s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw what the butcher was holding.


    In Grak''thor''s arms was arge, intricately carved wooden box, its surface gleaming faintly in the firelight. But it wasn''t the box itself that caught Volk''s attention¡ªit was the faint, magical aura emanating from within it.


    Grak''thor set the box down carefully before Volk, a solemn expression on his face. "This is a gift for you, Volk," he said, his voice carrying a weight of significance. "You''ve made me remember the old times, made me taste meat without hazardous magic particles for the first time in ages. This is my way of saying thank you."


    Volk''s eyes flicked from the box to Grak''thor, and back again. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.


    Grak''thor nodded, his gaze distant as if he were seeing something far away. "Yes, I''m sure. These crystals¡­" He trailed off, his voice growing softer. "These crystals are my thanks to you and to the tribe''s future. They''ve been with me for a long time, but now¡­ now I want you to have them."


    Volk carefully opened the box, and his breath caught in his throat. Inside were various crystals, each one glowing with a faint, otherworldly light.


    The colors were mesmerizing, ranging from deep blues and vibrant greens to fiery reds and soothing purples.


    .Each crystal seemed to pulse with a life of its own, a tangible sense of power radiating from them.


    Grak''thor''s voice, nowced with nostalgia, drew Volk''s attention back to the old orc. "I had a partner once," Grak''thor began, his eyes misting over as memories flooded back. "She was everything to me. Strong, fierce, and beautiful¡ªjust like the mountains that surrounded our old tribe. We were young then, full of life and dreams of a future together."


    Volk listened intently, sensing that this was a story Grak''thor hadn''t shared with anyone in a long time.


    The old orc''s voice was thick with emotion, each word heavy with the weight of the past.


    "We used to walk the forests together," Grak''thor continued, his gaze distant. "Hunting, gathering, living off thend. Those were the good times¡ªtimes I thought wouldst forever. But¡­ nothing ever does, does it?" He let out a long, sorrowful sigh, the sound echoing through the quiet night. "The dark days came, and we lost everything. Our tribe¡­ our home¡­ and her.


    She was taken from me by those damn Dark Witches and Red Warlocks. I couldn''t protect her, couldn''t save her¡­"


    The pain in Grak''thor''s voice was palpable, and Volk felt a pang of sympathy for the old orc. He had seen a lot of loss before, but this¡­ this was one of those who had it rough.


    Like a wound that had never fully healed, or a scar that still aches after all these years.


    "After she was gone, I couldn''t bear to stay in our destroyed vige. I wandered for a long time, searching for something¡ªanything¡ªthat could fill the void she left behind. But nothing ever did. Eventually, I found myself here, in this tribe, far from everything I once knew. I''ve been here ever since, trying to forget, trying to move on."


    Grak''thor paused, his eyes closing as he took a deep, shuddering breath. "But you never really move on, do you? You just¡­ learn to live with it. And you try to make the best of what you have left."


    He looked at Volk then, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I never took another partner after her. I couldn''t. It wouldn''t have been fair to them¡ªto be with someone who could never love them fully. So I dedicated myself to the tribe, to making sure they had what they needed to survive."


    Grak''thor gestured to the crystals in the box. "These crystals¡­ they''re thest of what I have from those days. I''ve kept them all these years, not knowing what to do with them. But now¡­ now I want you to have them, Volk. You''re young, and you have your whole life ahead of you. Use them well, and enjoy every moment with your partner.


    Don''t make the same mistake I did."


    Volk swallowed hard, the weight of Grak''thor''s words settling heavily on his shoulders. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Grak''thor nodded, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yes. I don''t have a partner in this tribe, Volk. My time has passed. But you¡­ you still have a chance. Take these crystals and use them.


    Enjoy your youth, and the times of peace while you can."


    Volk carefully closed the box, his heart full of gratitude and respect for the old orc. "Alright," he said softly. "If you insist."


    As he stood up to leave, Grak''thor suddenly asked, "Volk¡­ what is your Grum-gar form?"


    Volk paused, his hand resting on the doorframe. The question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation. Slowly, Volk turned back to face Grak''thor, the firelight casting long shadows across his face. "My Grum-gar form¡­"


    He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. His Grum-gar form or his Radioactive form was something he hadn''t fully explored yet, something that held both power and mystery.


    But as he looked into Grak''thor''s eyes, he realized that the old orc wasn''t just asking out of curiosity¡ªhe was asking out of respect, out of a need to understand the warrior who had rekindled his old memories and given him a reason to hope again.

 Chapter 22: Sudden announcement

    As he turned to face the old orc, the crackling of the fire behind him seemed to grow louder, the warmth of the mes reaching out as if urging him to stay.


    "Why do you need to know?" Volk asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. He wasn''t sure why Grak''thor was so interested in his Grum-gar form. It seemed a strange question, especially after everything they had just discussed.


    Grak''thor''s expression grew serious, the light-hearted warmth from their earlier conversation fading away like the dying embers in the hearth. He motioned for Volk to sit down, and after a moment''s hesitation, Volkplied, sitting cross-legged by the fire.


    "There''s a story you need to hear, Volk," Grak''thor began, his voice deep and somber. "The story of the Grum-gar form."


    The crackle of the fire filled the silence that followed, each pop and sizzle a reminder of the tension in the room.


    Grak''thor''s eyes were distant, as if he were looking back through the ages, seeing the events he was about to describe.


    "Hornless Orcs like us, we were once gentle creatures, nothing like the brutish Ogres who roam thends. We lived in harmony with nature, our strength used not for war, but for building and crafting. We were builders, healers, and caretakers of thend."


    The fire popped loudly, *CRACK!* echoing Grak''thor''s words, the mes dance as if telling their own story.


    "But that all changed when the hunts began," Grak''thor continued, his voice darkening. "We were hunted, one by one, by the Dark Witches and Red Warlocks. They saw our gentleness as weakness, our peaceful nature as an invitation to conquer. We were easy prey, and many of our kin were ughtered."


    Volk listened intently, the weight of the story sinking into him. He could almost see the past unfolding before him¡ªthe peaceful Orcs living in harmony, only to be torn apart by merciless hunters. The thought of his people being so vulnerable, so easily preyed upon, stirred something deep within him.


    "And then," Grak''thor''s voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over the *HISS* of the fire, "some of us ate the flesh of an Ogre."


    Volk''s eyes widened in shock, the idea of consuming such a creature repugnant to him. But Grak''thor continued before he could voice his disgust.


    "It was in desperation, you see. Those who ate the flesh of an Ogre didn''t do it for power or glory¡ªthey did it to survive. And what they gained from that act was something beyond their control: the Grum-gar form."


    The fire zed brighter for a moment, sending a shower of sparks into the air with a *WHOOSH*, as if reacting to the weight of Grak''thor''s words.


    "The Grum-gar form is an extremely powerful magic, one that turns a normal Orc into something more, something monstrous. In that form, no one can defeat them. They be unstoppable, their strength and rage unmatched by any other creature."


    Volk felt a chill run down his spine at the thought. He had seen the raw power of his own transformation, but this¡­ this sounded like something far more dangerous.


    "But there is a terrible price," Grak''thor continued, his voice filled with sorrow. "The Grum-gar form is wild, uncontroble. It consumes the Orc, mind and body. And it makes us vulnerable¡ªvulnerable to maniption, to madness, to losing ourselves entirely."


    Volk''s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing as he tried toprehend the full implications of what Grak''thor was saying. The power of the Grum-gar form sounded like both a gift and a curse, one that could save his people or destroy them.


    "Let me give you some examples," Grak''thor said, leaning forward, his voice growing more intense. "There are different personalities of the Grum-gar form, each with its own conditions and dangers."


    He held up one finger, "The first is the Berserker. When an Orc enters this form, they be consumed by rage. Their strength multiplies tenfold, but they lose all sense of friend and foe. They attack everything in sight, unable to distinguish between enemy and ally. The Berserker is unstoppable, but they are also uncontroble.


    If they stay in this form too long, they may never return to their original self."


    Grak''thor held up a second finger, "The second is the Shadow. This form grants an Orc incredible stealth and agility. They can move through the darkness like a ghost, unseen and unheard. But the Shadow form brings with it a creeping paranoia, a fear of the light, a fear of being seen.


    Those who take this form often be so consumed by their own fears that they turn on their own kin, seeing enemies where there are none."


    A third finger joined the others, "The third is the Beast. In this form, an Orc''s physical body transforms into something more akin to an animal. Their senses are heightened, their strength and speed far beyond that of any normal Orc. But with this poweres a loss of humanity. The Beast form strips away the mind, leaving only the instincts of a wild animal.


    Many who take this form never return to being Orcs¡ªthey live out the rest of their days as feral creatures."


    Finally, Grak''thor held up a fourth finger, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "And then there is the Wraith. The Wraith form grants incredible magical abilities, allowing an Orc to manipte the very essence of the world around them. But the power of the Wraithes at a terrible cost¡ªtheir connection to the physical world begins to fade.


    They be like ghosts, able to pass through solid objects, but unable to touch or interact with the world. In time, they lose all sense of reality, drifting into a state of eternal solitude, unable to return to their physical form."


    The room was silent save for the *CRACKLE* and *POP* of the fire. Volk felt a knot of fear tightening in his chest. The Grum-gar form wasn''t just a source of power¡ªit was a curse, one that could destroy him if he wasn''t careful.


    "And there''s more," Grak''thor said, his voice heavy with dread. "As an Orc ages, the Grum-gar form bes harder to control. The older we get, the more we are drawn into that form, until eventually, we can''t change back. We lose ourselves entirely, bing monsters in both mind and body."


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest. He had never considered the long-term consequences of his powers. The idea that he could one day lose control, be a monster, was terrifying. But then Grak''thor''s words took an even darker turn.


    "The only way tobat this decline," Grak''thor continued, "is to improve your rank as a Mag''Durotan. This won''t stop the decline, but it will slow it down. It gives us more time¡ªtime to prepare, to find a way to live with the curse."


    Volk''s mind reeled. The realization that no matter what he did, the Grum-gar form would eventually consume him, was like a blow to the gut. He had always thought of his powers as a gift, a way to protect those he cared about. But now¡­ now he saw them for what they really were¡ªa ticking time bomb.


    "But wait¡­" Volk began, his voice trembling slightly. "My Grum-gar form¡­ it''s different."


    Grak''thor''s eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Different? How?"


    Volk took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "The higher my power level rises, the longer I can stay in my Grum-gar form. It''s as if my form is tied to my power, not to time."


    Grak''thor''s eyes widened in surprise. "That''s¡­ that''s unheard of," he said, his voice filled with awe. "Most Orcs can only dy the inevitable, not extend it."


    Volk''s mind raced as he tried to piece together the puzzle. "Maybe it''s because my form isn''t really a Grum-gar form," he muttered to himself. "Maybe it''s something else¡­ something created by the system."


    A long sigh of relief escaped Volk''s lips as the weight of the revtion began to lift. Whatever his form was, it seemed to be different from the cursed Grum-gar forms that gued his kin.


    Maybe¡­ just maybe, he was safe from the fate that awaited the others.


    But before he could dwell on this further, a sudden phenomenon interrupted his thoughts. A brilliant transparentser shot up from the ground, piercing the sky with a ZAP! and lighting up the night like a beacon.


    "What is that?" Volk eximed, his eyes widening as he stared at the strange sight.


    Grak''thor''s expression turned grim. "That''s a catb," he said, his voice tense. "A catb has just surfaced nearby."


    "A catb?" Volk asked, still staring at the green light. "What does that mean?"


    "It means there are crystals to be found," Grak''thor replied, already on his feet. "And it means we need to hurry. Let''s go!"


    Without another word, Volk and Grak''thor sprinted towards the source of the light.


    The ground shook beneath their feet with a THUD-THUD-THUD, the air filled with the electric hum of magic.

 Chapter 23: Telling Solluhar

    As the vibrant atmosphere of the gathering quieted, a voice pierced through the air like a bell, clear and resonant.


    "Attention, all warriors of the tribe!"


    The voice belonged to a female elf, her tone was soft and feminine but it was alsomanding and filled with the weight of responsibility. "The wandering Drugan Warriors have discovered a dungeon!"


    A murmur rippled through the crowd, the sound growing like a low hum as the orcs and elves exchanged nces. The news was electrifying, the kind of discovery that stirred both fear and excitement. But the voice wasn''t done.


    "It was no easy task," the woman continued, her voice carrying a tone of pride and exhaustion. "They faced numerous challenges, fought against the elements, and scoured every inch of thend until they finally found it. This dungeon is not for the faint of heart, and only those who have reached the third to fifth stages of the Mag''Durotan may enter!"


    Volk''s heart thudded in his chest, THUMP-THUMP, the rhythmic pounding almost drowning out the rest of the woman''s words.


    The Mag''Durotan stages three to five.


    He was only in the second stage, yet the thought of entering that dungeon tomorrow stirred something deep within him¡ªa gnawing temptation.


    "Those who wish to enter," the woman continued, "muste prepared tomorrow. This will not be a simple test of strength. It will be a trial of your very will and soul. Only the worthy will survive!"


    Volk''s mind raced. He could feel the pull of the dungeon, like a ma drawing him closer. The thought of the crystals in his possession only fueled his desire. But he knew he wasn''t ready¡ªhe was only at the second stage.


    Suddenly, Grak''thor''s deep, knowing voice cut through his thoughts like a knife. "You''re thinking about it, aren''t you?"


    Volk turned to face the elder orc, his thoughts betrayed by the look on his face. Grak''thor''s lips curled into a knowing grin.


    "You want to enter that dungeon, don''t you?" Grak''thor said with a chuckle, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and understanding. "You can do it tomorrow. Use the crystals that I gave you, and then, when you''re inside, use it as a chance to gather even more crystals for your partner."


    Volk''s eyes widened in surprise. How did Grak''thor know exactly what he was thinking? He nced down at his right hand, where the crystalsy, their smooth surfaces glinting in the firelight.


    "Okay," Volk finally said, his voice resolute. The idea of entering the dungeon tomorrow filled him with a mixture of fear and anticipation, but Grak''thor''s words gave him the push he needed.


    Grak''thor nodded approvingly. "Good. And when you return, we''ll take a look at your Grum-gar form. It''s important that you understand it fully."


    Volk nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of purpose settling within his head.


    Grak''thor then waved him off with a hand, a gesture that was both dismissive and encouraging.


    "Go on," Grak''thor said with a grin. "Go to your partner. She''s waiting for you."


    Volk didn''t need to be told twice. He turned and left the gathering, his footsteps THUD-THUD-THUD against the dirt as he made his way back to his tower.


    The journey back was quick, his mind focused on whaty ahead. When he reached the tower, he didn''t hesitate. With a BAM, he mmed the door open, the wooden structure groaning under the force.


    The sudden noise echoed through the empty halls, startling Solluha''r, who had been sitting quietly in the room.


    Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. "Volk?" she eximed, her voice a mix of shock and concern.


    Volk''s intense expression softened as he saw her startled reaction. He hadn''t meant to scare her. An apologetic look crossed his face as he took a step forward. "Have you eaten already?" he asked, his tone gentler now.


    Solluha''r''s eyes flickered to the bundle in his hand, the smell of cooked meat wafting through the air. She shook her head slowly, her expression one of confusion. "I haven''t eaten for a year now," she said and her tone of voice was soft like it was natural.


    Volk blinked, taken aback by her response. Then he remembered¡ªshe was an elf. The thought left him speechless for a moment. How could he have forgotten something so important?


    Regaining hisposure, Volk held out the bundle towards her. "Look, I have meat here," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. He unwrapped the bundle, revealing the perfectly cooked meat, its scent rich and enticing.


    Solluha''r''s eyes widened in shock as she stared at the meat. She was incredibly sensitive to mana, and what she sensed¡ªor rather, didn''t sense¡ªleft her stunned. "Volk¡­ how did you manage this?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "There''s no trace of hazardous magic particles on this meat. Was it thoroughly cleaned?"


    Volk hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He could see the genuine astonishment in her eyes, and it made him nervous.


    Solluha''r continued, her voice gaining momentum as she recalled her studies. "When I was still learning from the elder elves, they told us about the dangers of hazardous magic particles in meat. They spoke of countless attempts to cleanse it, using various spells and methods.


    They even exined why there were so manybor orcs in the offsprings¡ªbecause the food they consumed was often contaminated, and it was nearly impossible to remove all the hazardous particles. And now, you''re telling me this meat ispletely free of them?"


    Her words spilled out like a torrent, her shock evident with every sentence. Volk could barely keep up. Should he tell her the truth? Should he admit that it wasn''t just a simple cleaning process, but something more? Would it be a problem if he became a shaman?


    Solluha''r, sensing his hesitation, ced a hand on his arm. Her touch was gentle, reassuring. "Volk," she said softly, her voice a calming presence in the whirlwind of his thoughts, "you don''t have to hide anything from me. I won''t tell anyone."


    Volk looked into her eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She wasn''t just saying this out of curiosity¡ªshe genuinely wanted to help him, to support him.


    Taking a deep breath, Volk finally spoke. "I don''t want to be a shaman," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Solluha''r''s reaction was one of shock, her eyes widening at his confession. But then, as the meaning of his words sank in, she nodded slowly. "I see," she said, her tone thoughtful. "I remember you awakened the Orc magic ability, the Grum-gar form. If you became a shaman, it could be detrimental¡ªmaybe even a disadvantage. I understand why you wouldn''t want that."


    Volk let out a sigh of relief, the tension that had been building in his chest finally releasing. He hadn''t realized just how much he needed her understanding, her eptance.


    "There''s more," he said after a moment, his voice steady now. "I have the ability to absorb hazardous magic particles. That''s how I cleaned the meat."


    Solluha''r looked at him, her expression one of awe and understanding. She nodded, with her lips curving into a gentle smile. "For real?" With her eyes gleaming, "If that''s the case, that''s an incredible gift, Volk. And I''m d you shared it with me. We''ll figure out what it means together. But a pity, we don''t have magic crystals¡­"

 Chapter 24: Absorption Ability

    Volk''s heart thudded with excitement as he revealed the magic crystals clutched in his other hand. Solluha''r, who had been sitting quietly, her earlier look of helplessness fading, suddenly bolted upright. Her eyes widened to the size of full moons, and before she could stop herself, she let out an astonished cry, "Whaaaaaat!?"


    The exmation echoed through the room, bouncing off the stone walls like a ricocheting arrow.


    Realizing how loud she had been, Solluha''r''s face flushed a deep crimson. She pped her hands over her mouth, eyes darting away in embarrassment. "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to shout," she stammered, her voice now a shy murmur.


    Volk couldn''t help but chuckle at her reaction, a warm smile spreading across his face. Solluha''r, still blushing furiously, slowly lowered her hands from her mouth, her curiosity getting the better of her. "H-how¡­ how did you get those?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "It''s way too early for you to have magic crystals.


    Usually, an orc can''t get one until at least three months have passed¡­ And you¡­ you got them in just one day?" Her words came out in a rush, stumbling over themselves as her emotions tangled together in a mixture of embarrassment, pride, and awe.


    Volk''s smile widened as he leaned in closer, his voice teasing. "Guess how?"


    Solluha''r''s cheeks med even redder as she caught the yful glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this¡ªenjoying her confusion, her flustered state. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Volk scooped her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground with ease.


    "Ah!" she gasped, her body trembling with a mix of surprise and excitement. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to steady herself. But despite her shock, she managed to stammer out, "It¡­ it was Grak''thor, wasn''t it?"


    Volk froze, his eyes widening in shock. "How did you know that?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine surprise.


    Solluha''r, still nestled in his arms, took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "It''s¡­ it''s because of your smell," she began hesitantly, her words spilling out in a rush. "And the meat¡­ The herbivore meat you brought back was a special kind and only in the part of the market where they sell those kinds of meat and one of them was his shop.


    Plus, Grak''thor is the only butcher in the meat area who would have those kinds of crystals because he¡­ he refused to have a partner. He''s the only one who does that because he came from a hazardless tribe, one that was destroyed long ago. When you gave him that meat, it must have reminded him of his old tribe, of everything he lost. That''s why he gave you the crystals¡ªout of gratitude."


    Solluha''r''s voice trembled as she spoke, her emotionsid bare. Her face was a deep shade of red, her embarrassment evident as she revealed everything she had pieced together.


    She had always been the informative one, the one who knew more than anyone else. But in the past, this knowledge had driven people away, made them wary of her. Her ssmates had been intimidated by her, and even her former lover, Luk''Tar, had been scared off by how much she knew. She had seen that look of fear in their eyes, that sense of alienation.


    As she finished exining, Solluha''r hesitantly looked up at Volk, bracing herself for that same reaction, for that familiar look of fear or difort. But what she saw instead left her breathless.


    Volk''s face wasn''t filled with fear or unease¡ªit was filled with pride. His eyes gleamed with joy, a proud light shining within them. His expression was one of pure amazement and admiration, not a trace of the difort she hade to expect.


    Solluha''r''s heart swelled with emotion, a wave of warmth washing over her. For the first time, she felt truly understood, truly appreciated for who she was. She felt touched, she didn''t even understand what was happening but she couldn''t help but felt that her feelings for Volk deepened in a way she hadn''t expected.


    But amidst the rush of emotions, Solluha''r suddenly became aware of Volk''s hands, which had slowly drifted down to her open stomach.


    A jolt of sensation shot through her, a mix of heat and ticklishness that made her skin tingle, it also made her feel the familiar warm sticky web substance below her. As if her body reacted instinctively from his touch, making her breath quickens, with her pulse racing fast.


    Unable to resist the sensations coursing through her, Solluha''r''s body trembled with the intensity. But even as the familiar emotions swirled within her, she mustered the strength to whisper, "Wait¡­ Please¡­"


    Volk immediately stopped, with his expression shifting to one of concern. "What''s wrong?"


    Solluha''r''s face burned with embarrassment, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to exin. "I¡­ I need to absorb the crystal first¡­ before we¡­ do that." Her words came out in a shy, embarrassed rush, her eyes avoiding his gaze.


    Volk''s eyes widened in realization. "The crystal?" he echoed, understanding dawning on him.


    Solluha''r nodded, her embarrassment still evident. "I heard the beam of sound earlier, and¡­ and judging by how you came back in such a hurry, it means the tribe won''t let you join the catbs unless you reach the third stage of Mag''Durotan. And the catbs probably require warriors at stages three to five¡­" Her voice trailed off, her gaze finally meeting his.


    Volk couldn''t help but feel a surge of admiration for her insight. She had pieced everything together with such precision, understanding the situation without even needing to be told. He slowly set her down, his movements gentle and careful, as if she were something precious.


    Solluha''r reached out for the crystals with trembling hands, her expression a mix of determination and nervousness. Volk watched her, unsure of what to do next, but then Solluha''r''s shy voice broke the silence. "You¡­ you could try the meat on the first floor, if you don''t know what to do for now," she suggested, with her voiceced with embarrassment.


    "It''s your prize¡­ for capturing the venomous earth mole yesterday."


    Volk nodded, his mind still spinning from everything that had just happened. He left the room, making his way down the stairs to the first floor.


    As he searched for the meat, his thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions and questions.


    When he finally found it, he unwrapped the bundle carefully, revealing the meat inside.


    As he looked at it, something familiar caught his eye.


    The meat was different¡ªthere was a faint glow to it, something that hadn''t been there before. He stared at it in confusion, his mind immediately tried to make sense of what he was seeing. But this time, he could see that it was not green anymore, but a brown one.


    Then, it hit him. "Absorption?" he muttered to himself, the word escaping his lips as the realization dawned on him.


    The meat had somehow absorbed the hazardous magic particles, just like he could.


    The implications of this discovery left him stunned, his mind reeling with questions how?

 Chapter 25: Love making before Catacomb Diving

    Volk''s heart pounded with exhration as he dashed back up the stairs, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the tower. "I can absorb again! I can absorb again!" His shout was filled with childlike glee, the discovery of his ability renewing his excitement.


    He burst through the door, finding Solluha''r waiting for him with a gentle smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled with warmth as she watched him, clearly pleased by his enthusiasm. Volk''s face was glowing as he repeated, "I can absorb again, Solluha''r! I can absorb again!!"


    Solluha''r nodded in response, her smile widening. But then, something shifted in Volk''s expression. His joy tempered, giving way to a look of suspicion. He took a step closer to her, his brow furrowing. "You''re suspicious," he said slowly, his voice dropping an octave. "It''s as if you already knew this would happen¡­"


    Solluha''r''s breath caught in her throat as Volk''s intense gaze locked onto hers. He closed the distance between them in one swift movement, his eyes narrowing. "Did you know this was going to happen?" he asked directly, his voice now a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.


    Solluha''r''s face reddened as she tried to avoid his gaze, her mind scrambling for an excuse. "I¡­ I didn''t know¡­ I just¡­ I just thought that¡­" she stammered, her voice faltering under the weight of his stare. But before she could finish her sentence, Volk reached out, gently cupping her face in his hand. He tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet his eyes.


    Volk''s look was teasing, yet there was an edge to it, a promise of something more. "Did you enjoy seeing me act like a child?" he murmured, his tone yful yet probing. "Jumping with happiness? Is that what you want? To y with my brittle heart? Hmmm¡­?"


    Solluha''r swallowed hard, the heat in her cheeks intensifying. She could feel her heart racing, her body betraying her as she struggled to find the right words. Finally, with her voice barely above a whisper, she admitted, "I¡­ I only thought of it because¡­ because what you absorbed was one of my main elemental affinity¡­"


    Her face turned a deeper shade of red as she continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. "But as a witch, unlike normal elves who usually only have one elemental affinity, I have three more¡­ And one of them is the Earth element, but¡­ but I''m only at the beginning stages, so even if we do the deed¡­ the benefit would be low¡­"


    Volk listened intently as she exined with  an unreadable expression on his face.


    Solluha''r''s exnation grew more detailed, her words weaving aplex picture of elemental affinities and their effects. She spoke of how Lyerin''s absorption of the main elemental affinity was a natural process for elves, how it usually required time and practice, and how her own affinity for the Earth element was still in its infancy.


    Her embarrassment was palpable, each wordced with the vulnerability of revealing something deeply personal.


    When she finally finished, Volk remained silent for a moment, his eyes searching hers. Then, with a serious expression, he asked, "So we can''t do it in the botanical mana?"


    Solluha''r shook her head, her blush deepening. "No¡­ The crystal that Grak''thor gave us¡­ it''s not enough," she murmured, her voice barely audible.


    Volk nodded thoughtfully. "What about the wind affinity?" he asked suddenly.


    Solluha''r''s eyes widened in shock, her expression one of utter disbelief. "How¡­ how do you know that?" she gasped, her mind reeling. She didn''t remember telling him about her wind affinity, yet he had somehow figured it out.


    Volk simply smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. "You''re not the only one who has something special about them," he replied, his tone cryptic.


    Solluha''r''s heart skipped a beat, her mind swirling with a mixture of confusion and admiration. His words struck a chord deep within her, making her feel even more flustered. She bit her lip, trying to steady herself. "We could¡­ we could do it," she stammered, her voice trembling.


    "I''ve already absorbed the magic crystals and converted them into wind elemental mana¡­ And¡­ and there''s plenty of wind manapared to the other elements¡­ so we could really do it¡­"


    Volk''s smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with a teasing light. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he murmured in her ear, "Let''s do it, then. Let''s do it for the tribe."


    Solluha''r''s entire body tingled at his words, her blush spreading from her cheeks down to her neck. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She was acutely aware of how close he was, the warmth of his breath on her skin sending shivers down her spine.


    Suddenly, Volk began undressing her, his hands deft and sure.


    Solluha''r''s breath hitched, but instead of stopping him, she found herself helping him, her hands moving almost of their own ord.


    The feel of his hands on her skin sent electric sparks through her, as if her body was responding to his touch with a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement.


    Volk grinned as he watched her, his eyes filled with mischief. "Are you really doing this for the tribe?" he teased, his voice low and seductive.


    Solluha''r avoided his gaze, her face burning with embarrassment. She could feel the heat rising within her, her heart racing faster with every second. When she was finally bare before him, her vulnerability on full disy, Volk''s expression softened.


    He gazed at her with a mixture of admiration and something deeper¡ªsomething that made her heart swell. "I can understand if you''re doing this for the tribe," he said softly. "But if you''re doing it because you want me¡­ then I''ll be even more motivated to put a lot of children inside you."


    Solluha''r''s breath caught in her throat, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. She opened her mouth to respond, to say something¡ªanything¡ªbut the words stuck in her throat.


    Volk''s serious, determined look made it clear that he meant every word, and it left her speechless.


    But before she could gather her thoughts, Volk silenced her with a gentle yet firm touch. "You don''t have to say anything to make me feel good," he whispered. "I don''t want to force you to admit anything."


    Solluha''r''s mind was a blur, her emotions a tangled mess. But then, suddenly, she felt something hard enter her, a sensation so intense and overwhelming that it made her entire body tense. It was pulsing, hard and hot, filling her with a heat that was almost unbearable.


    It was in! she thought, her mind struggling to keep up with the flood of sensations. Her face flushed even redder, her body instinctively gripping onto him, wanting to feel him even more.


    The pleasure was overwhelming, building with each pulse, each movement, it''s making her go crazy.


    Volk''s voice broke through the haze, firm and resolute. "Solluha''r," he said, his tone filled with promise. "Be prepared. I''ll make sure to put a lot of babies inside you."


    Solluha''r could only nod, like her body was responding to his words with a deep sense of satisfaction and ecstasy.


    Soon enough, the afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room as the two of them gave in to their desires.


    The sounds of their lovemaking filled the air, a symphony of sshing and pleasure that echoed throughout the tower.


    As the sun dipped below the horizon, they continued to lose themselves in each other, the night stretching on as they explored the depths of their connection.


    For that moment, nothing else mattered¡ªonly the two of them, and the bond they were forging together, stronger and deeper than either of them had ever imagined.

 Chapter 26: Incredibly fast Creation

    The morning sun barely peeked over the horizon when Volk stirred from his sleep, his powerful body still tangled in the warmth of Solluha''r''s embrace.


    The events of the night yed over in his mind, a heady mix of pride, satisfaction, and a lingering tenderness that surprised him. He nced at Solluha''r, who was peacefully resting beside him, her breathing soft and rhythmic.


    A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He didn''t want to leave her side, but he knew he had to.


    The day ahead promised new challenges, and he needed to be prepared.


    Carefully, Volk began to untangle himself from Solluha''r, trying not to wake her.


    He was about to gently smooth her hair back, to ensure she wouldn''t be startled when she awoke to find him gone, when suddenly, her body jerked violently, causing Volk to freeze in ce.


    His heart skipped a beat as Solluha''r''s body convulsed and twitches uncontrobly.


    Panic immediately spread through his entire being as he watched her tremble, her face contorting in pain.


    Before Volk could react, Solluha''r''s eyes snapped open, and she let out a blood-curdling scream that reverberated through the room, piercing Volk''s ears and sending a chill down his spine. "Solluha''r!" he shouted, his voice thick with fear. What is happening? His mind raced as he tried to make sense of the scene unfolding before him.


    Solluha''r clutched her stomach, her fingers digging into her flesh as if trying to hold something in. Her eyes, wide with terror, began to weep green and silver tears, with streaks of brown and blue mixed in¡ªa grotesque, otherworldly disy.


    Soon, it wasn''t just her eyes; the strange liquid began to pour from her nose, mouth, and even her ears, painting her face with colors that should never have mingled together.


    Volk''s fear escted. "The radiation¡­ has it affected her? Is she going to die?" The thoughts screamed through his mind, but he couldn''t let himself believe it. He had to do something¡ªanything to save her. He frantically searched her face for a sign of what to do, desperate to help.


    Then, through her pain, Solluha''r''s trembling hand lifted and weakly beckoned him towards something.


    Volk''s gaze followed the direction of her hand,nding on the box filled with magic crystals nearby. His instincts kicked in immediately, and he grabbed the box, pulling it closer to her.


    The moment he did, Solluha''r reached out andid her hand on the box.


    The magic crystals within began to glow, their light shimmering as if alive, before the particles of mana within them started to drift out, swirling around Solluha''r''s hand before being absorbed into her body.


    "Mana?" Volk whispered, his eyes wide as he watched in amazement.


    Solluha''r, though still visibly weak, managed a faint smile. "This¡­ this is normal¡­ when an Elven witch¡­ is pregnant¡­ with a hornless orc''s child¡­"


    Volk''s heart stopped for a moment. "Pregnant?" The word left his lips, his voiceced with disbelief and shock. His mind struggled to wrap around the reality of what she had just said.


    Solluha''r nodded weakly, still absorbing the mana. Her breath was shallow, but she continued to speak, her voice a fragile whisper. "Yes¡­ pregnant¡­ Thepatibility¡­ between a Hornless Orc and an Elven witch¡­ it''s very natural¡­ very strong¡­ That''s why¡­ our races¡­ are perfect for each other¡­"


    Volk''s jaw dropped, his eyes widening to an almostical degree. Pregnant? Already? The sheer speed of it all left him reeling. "But¡­ how? Is it really that fast?" he asked, his voice trembling.


    Solluha''r, despite her weakened state, blushed deeply, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment. She took a shaky breath, preparing herself to exin.


    "When¡­ when an Elven witch¡­ and a Hornless Orc copte¡­ it''s¡­ it''s a union of natural chemistry¡­ the pregnancy happens almost instantly¡­ That''s why¡­ our races have thrived¡­ even with the constant threat¡­ of being hunted by Dark Elven Witches and Red Elven Warlocks¡­"


    Volk listened,pletely dumbfounded by her words. She continued, her voice gaining a bit of strength as she spoke. "In ancient times¡­ thispatibility¡­ it was the reason¡­ why, despite the odds, we survived¡­ The Hornless Orcs¡­ and the Elven witches¡­ are perfect for each other¡­ and that''s why¡­ even though our enemies hunt us¡­ our poption never dwindles¡­"


    As she finished speaking, Solluha''r took another shaky breath, then looked directly at Volk, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and pride. "Volk¡­ you''re going to be¡­ the father of twenty children¡­"


    Volk''s eyes bulged out of his head, his mouth falling open in utter shock. "Twenty?!" he eximed, his voice almost a shout. His mind couldn''t process the sheer number. His jaw practically hit the floor as he stared at her, his disbelief palpable. "So many?" he finally managed to sputter.


    Solluha''r, despite everything, giggled softly at his reaction. Herughter was light, almost musical, a sweet sound that contrasted sharply with the chaos of moments before. She nodded, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Yes¡­ that''s also why¡­ our poption¡­ is strong¡­ Elven witches¡­ can bear many children¡­ especially with a Hornless Orc¡­"


    Volk swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He tried to wrap his head around the concept of being the father of twenty children. "That''s¡­ that''s too many," he said, almost to himself. "How¡­ how will you be able to¡­ keep them all inside?"


    Solluha''r smiled softly, her expression tender. She was still weak, but she gathered her strength to exin. "The children¡­ they''re very small¡­ when they''re inside¡­ only as big as a finger¡­ They won''t make my stomach¡­ inte too much¡­ And when they''re ready toe out¡­ they''ll pupate¡­ like butterfly worms¡­ It''s a natural process¡­ so they won''t¡­ harm me¡­"


    She paused, taking a moment to catch her breath before continuing. "A normal elf¡­ can have up to twelve children¡­ at their peak¡­ But I¡­ because of my connection¡­ with you¡­ if I reached my peak because of my talent¡­ I can have at least¡­ forty-eight children¡­"


    Volk was speechless, his tongue tied by the sheer magnitude of what she was saying. "Forty-eight?" he repeated, the number almost toorge for him toprehend.


    Solluha''r nodded, her smile tinged with sadness. "Yes¡­ but even if it''s¡­ that many¡­ only a few¡­ will be warriors¡­ Most will be¡­borers¡­" Her voice wavered, the sadness in her words clear.


    Seeing her distress, Volk reached out and gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away the lingering tears from her cheeks. "Don''t be sad, Solluha''r," he said softly, his voice filled with resolve. "We should celebrate once I''m back."


    Solluha''r managed a weak smile, her eyes shining with gratitude. She nodded slowly, but Volk wasn''t finished. He leaned in closer, his gaze intense. "And don''t worry," he added, his voice firm. "All our children will be warriors. Every single one of them."


    Solluha''r''s eyes widened in surprise. She stared into Volk''s eyes, searching for any hint of doubt, but all she found was unwavering confidence. She could feel the truth in his words, the strength of his conviction. It made her heart swell with pride and hope.


    But then, Solluha''r chuckled softly, her mood lightening. "If that''s the case¡­ then go and get¡­ a lot of magic crystals for me¡­ The strength of our warriors¡­ will depend on how many crystals¡­ you bring back¡­"


    Volk grinned, a fierce determination lighting up his features. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, making her blush deeply. Her heart fluttered at the warmth of his touch, the tenderness in his kiss.


    "I will," Volk promised as he pulled back, his voice full of resolve. He stood up, his powerful form casting a shadow over her as he looked down at her with a mix of love and determination. "Getting magic crystals won''t be a problem for me."


    With that, he turned and left the room, his steps heavy with purpose.


    Solluha''r watched him go, her heart filled with a mixture of emotions¡ªlove, pride, hope, and a newfound belief in their future. As the door closed behind Volk, shey back on the bed, her hand resting on her still-t stomach, where their future warriors were growing, and where the children were forming.


    However, there was also guilt in her eyes, she knew that only a few of them would manage to live in their pupation period. But she decided not to tell Volk as he left to go to the catbs.

 Chapter 27: The Horde Marches!

    The za was alive with activity as Volk entered, his mind still reeling from the news he''d received that morning.


    The towering structure at the center of the za, emitting five colored mes that danced in the early light, was a sight to behold, but Volk''s thoughts were far away, consumed by the revtion that he would soon be a father.


    The magical world he''d been thrust into seemed to move at a breakneck pace, and now, the reality of his impending fatherhood added anotheryer to theplexity of his situation.


    As Volk approached the tower, he was suddenly greeted by a familiar figure¡ªGozorm''al, the massive orc who had attacked him during their brutal training session.


    Gozorm''al stepped forward, his expression uncharacteristically serious.


    The tension between them was palpable, and for a moment, Volk tensed, unsure of what to expect.


    But instead of hostility, Gozorm''al bowed his head slightly, a gesture of respect. "Kaz''rogal Volk," he began, his voice deep and resonant, "I havee to apologize for my actions during our training. As an orc, I acted out of line. I disrespected you, and for that, I am truly sorry."


    Volk blinked in surprise.


    This was not the response he had expected.


    Before he could react, Gozorm''al continued, his tone solemn. "I have dishonored myself by underestimating you, and as an orc, I must make amends. Therefore, I recite the vow of our kind¡ªnever again will I look upon you as a simple Labor Orc. You have proven your strength and your worth. I acknowledge you as the strongest among us, as the true Kaz''rogal!"


    A murmur rippled through the crowd of orcs that had gathered around them. Volk could hear the surprised whispers and exmations from those nearby.


    "He called him the strongest Kaz''rogal!"


    "Gozorm''al got his ass beat, it''s only natural he''d acknowledge him!"


    "Did you see how he took that hit and got back up? Unbelievable!"


    "He''s not just anybor orc, that''s for sure. He''s a warrior, through and through."


    "Gozorm''al wouldn''t say it if it weren''t true. This Volk must be something else."


    "Is this the same guy who beat Gozorm''al? The Kaz''rogal this year?"


    As the orcs voiced their opinions, Volk noticed that even the elves in the vicinity had taken an interest in the exchange. Their conversations, quieter and more reserved, floated on the air as well.


    "So, this is the Kaz''rogal everyone''s been talking about?"


    "He''s the one who took down Gozorm''al, right?"


    "I didn''t think abor orc could rise so high."


    "Maybe he''s different. He doesn''t look like the others."


    "There''s something about him¡­ almost like he''s got more than just muscle."


    "If Gozorm''al acknowledges him, he must be exceptional."


    Gozorm''al, his voice booming, suddenly interrupted the murmurs. "Elves! Bring it forward!"


    From the edge of the za, several elves appeared, struggling under the weight of a massive beast hide that was bulging with some unknown content.


    They moved carefully, cing the heavy bundle before Volk.


    The crowd fell silent as all eyes turned to the scene unfolding.


    Gozorm''al stepped forward and gestured toward the bundle. "Kaz''rogal Volk," he said, his voice reverberating through the za, "this is my apology to you. This hide contains one of the finest warrior armors of our tribe. The orc who wore this armor in battle saved many lives¡ªhe killed twenty-two ves of a Dark Elven witch to protect the tribe.


    This armor carries with it the honor and the blood of our strongest. I have been given permission to bestow it upon someone worthy, and I believe that someone is you."


    Volk''s eyes widened as the elves carefully unwrapped the hide, revealing the armor beneath. It was a magnificent piece, crafted with a brutal elegance that spoke of both power and protection.


    The dark metal gleamed under the light of the five-colored mes, intricate runes and patterns etched into its surface.


    The armor seemed almost alive, as if it carried with it the spirit of the warrior who had worn it before.


    Volk stepped forward, cing a hand on the armor. He could feel the weight of its history, the sacrifices that had been made by those who came before him. He looked at Gozorm''al, who was watching him with a serious expression. "Thank you, Gozorm''al," Volk said, his voice sincere. "I ept this gift with honor.


    And I forgive you for the training¡­ though I was nning on bashing your head in next time." He added thest part with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.


    There was a moment of stunned silence as Gozorm''al processed Volk''s words.


    Then, suddenly, the massive orc let out a deep, heartyugh that echoed across the za.


    "GURAHAHAHAHAHAH!"


    The sound was so infectious that Volk found himselfughing too, though he wasn''t entirely sure why.


    Soon, the entire crowd joined in, the tension melting away into shared mirth.


    As theughter died down, the elves moved forward to help Volk don the armor. The moment the armor was secured around him, it felt as if it had been made just for him.


    The weight of it was solid, grounding him, but not oppressive. Instead, it felt right, as if it was meant to be worn by someone of his strength.


    Before Volk could fully take in the moment, a sharp,manding voice cut through the air. "Everyone, prepare yourselves! We leave for the lowest level dungeon!"


    The feminine voice belonged to a tall, stern elf woman who had appeared at the edge of the za, and her presence immediatelymanded instant attention.


    The orcs around Volk reacted immediately, raising their weapons and armor, their battle cries filling the air.


    "Lok''tar Ogar!" they shouted, their voices fierce and unified.


    "Dra''nor val!" another cry echoed, followed by a chorus of "For the Horde!"


    Volk felt the surge of energy around him, the raw anticipation and excitement that pulsed through the orcs as they prepared for battle. He raised his own weapon¡ªa massive club studded with wicked spikes¡ªand let out a roar that mingled with the others, his voice carrying across the za.


    "For the Horde!"


    The collective energy was palpable, a shared purpose that bound them all together.


    Volk could feel it in his bones¡ªthe thrill of battle, the call of war. His earlier thoughts of fatherhood and the future faded into the background as the adrenaline took over.


    With the warriors around him, Volk began the march toward the dungeon, his steps heavy with resolve.


    The za, now a sea of orcs and elves united in their goal, moved as one.


    The journey ahead was uncertain, the dangers unknown, but Volk felt ready. He was no longer just abor orc; he was a Kaz''rogal, a warrior with a purpose. And as he marched with his brothers and sisters into the unknown, he knew that whatevery ahead, he would face it with the strength and determination that had brought him this far.


    The ground beneath their feet trembled as the army of orcs and elves moved forward, their destination clear, their spirits high.


    The lowest level dungeon awaited, filled with dangers and treasures untold. But Volk knew that he was ready.


    With the strength of his tribe behind him and the promise of a new future in front of him, he felt unstoppable. And as they descended into the depths, Volk knew one thing for certain¡ªthis was the beginning of his journey in this fantasy world.

 Chapter 28: Botanical Aura Veil

    The horde of orcs marched with determination as they crossed the threshold of their territory, leaving behind the familiar and venturing into the perilous unknown.


    The air grew thicker with an ominous energy, the trees taller and darker as they moved deeper into the wildnds.


    Volk, surrounded by nearly fifty younger orcs like himself, felt a sense of excitement mingled with trepidation.


    This was his first time on such a dangerous mission, and every step they took felt like a step closer to proving himself as a true warrior of the horde.


    The group was led by a formidable group of older, seasoned orcs, d in bone armor that rattled with each step they took.


    Thud! Thud! Thud!


    These were the veterans, the protectors, the ones who had survived countless battles and emerged stronger.


    Suddenly, without warning, the armored orcs at the front raised their hands, signaling the entire group to stop.


    "Mag''Durotan!" he called out.


    Volk and the other younger orcs halted immediately.


    "Watch carefully!"


    He watches as the armored orcs, standing at the front, closed their eyes and took deep, steadying breaths.


    For a moment, nothing happened.


    The forest around them was eerily still, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the faint breeze. But then, without warning, a low, guttural sound began to emanate from the armored orcs.


    "Gawruuuuuuuuuuuhhh¡­"


    It started as a deep hum, a vibration that seemed toe from the very earth beneath their feet.


    Not long, the sound grew louder, more intense, until it erupted into a primal scream that echoed through the trees.


    "GURRAAAAAHHH!!"


    Volk felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as the sound reverberated through him.


    The scream was filled with power, raw and untamed, as if the orcs were channeling the very essence of the forest around them.


    As the scream reached its peak, Volk saw something incredible begin to happen.


    From the bodies of the armored orcs, a strange energy began to emerge.


    Shooosh!


    It was unlike anything Volk had ever seen before¡ªan aura that seemed to pulse with life itself.


    Unlike the radioactive magic particles he had grown ustomed to seeing, which floated like colored mist, this aura was different. It was brighter, more vibrant, like an ethereal aurora that shimmered with a deep green hue.


    The aura was not confined to a single point; instead, it flowed around the orcs like liquid light, rippling and undting as if it were alive.


    The green aura began to expand, slowly moving away from the armored orcs and toward the younger ones, including Volk.


    Zooosh!


    As the aura touched him, Volk felt it sink into his skin, his bones, his very being.


    "Hmm?"


    It was a sensation unlike any other¡ªa warmth that spread through his body, soothing and invigorating at the same time. It felt like the energy of the forest itself was being absorbed into him, fortifying his body and mind.


    Volk could feel the aura settling deep within him, resonating with his own energy. His senses seemed to sharpen, his awareness heightened. He could hear the distant rustling of leaves, the quiet breathing of the other orcs, the heartbeat of the forest itself.


    It was as if the world around him had suddenly be more vivid, more alive.


    When the aura had fully settled, the armored orcs opened their eyes.


    One of the orcs, his voice deep andmanding, stepped forward to address the group. "This is the horde''s innate special ability," he began, "called the Botanical Aura Veil."


    The orc''s voice was filled with authority, and Volk listened intently as he continued.


    "The Botanical Aura Veil is a technique that you will all learn once you reach the sixth stage of Mag''Durotan. It is essential for your survival in thesends. This veil will protect you for half a day from the hazardous magic particles that permeate the trees and leaves in this forest. Without it, you would be vulnerable to the magic that seeks to twist your mind and body."


    The exnation was detailed, the orc''s tone unwavering as he spoke of the importance of this technique.


    "The Botanical Aura Veil is not just a shield against the elements. It also grants you resistance against any form of control abilities that may be used against you, particrly by the Dark Elven Witches. These witches are known for their insidious magic, capable of bending the will of others to their own.


    With this veil, you can stand strong against their spells and protect your mind from their influence."


    Volk listened in awe as the orc continued to exin the significance of the veil. "This is the first skill you must master as a member of the horde, a warrior of Mag''Durotan. The Botanical Aura Veil is your lifeline, your shield against the dangers of this world. But know this¡ªthis is not something that can be taught directly. You must learn it only by witnessing it, by feeling it within your bones.


    Only then will you truly understand its power and be able to wield it yourself."


    The orc continued, answering the unspoken question that lingered in Volk''s mind. "If we were to teach you this directly, you would not gain the full control thates with mastering it. The power of the Botanical Aura Veil lies not just in its ability to protect you, but in your ability to control it, to wield it as an extension of your own strength.


    By witnessing it, by feeling it resonate within you, you will learn to harness its full potential."


    Volk nodded in understanding.


    The exnation made sense.


    He was grateful he hadn''t asked the question aloud, as it was clear that this was something the orcs valued deeply¡ªa rite of passage that each warrior had to experience for themselves.


    With the veil now in ce, the group moved forward, thendscape around them changing as they ventured deeper into the forest.


    "Horde!"


    The leader shouted, "March!" he added.


    The trees here were unlike anything Volk had ever seen before¡ªtall and imposing, their leaves a vibrant, almost unnatural green.


    The air was thick with the scent of earth and foliage, the magic particles that filled the atmosphere making the entire forest shimmer with an eerie glow.


    As they walked, one of the armored orcs turned to the group and spoke. "These trees are green, greener than any you have seen before. This is the result of the hazardous magic particles that saturate thisnd. These particles are what give the trees their unnatural color, their strength.


    Only the Wood Elves can survive in a ce like this, for they are born of the forest, their bodies attuned to the magic that flows through thesends. For us, this ce is deadly without the veil."


    Volk marveled at the sight before him.


    The trees seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, their branches intertwining to form a dense canopy overhead.


    The ground was covered in a thick carpet of moss and leaves, the green so deep it almost seemed ck in the dim light that filtered through the foliage.


    The air was heavy with the magic that permeated the forest, a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked in thesends.


    Suddenly, the armored orcs stopped again, signaling the group to halt.


    Volk tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon. Ahead of them, the forest opened up into a small clearing, and within it was a sight that made Volk''s blood run cold.


    A group of wild boars, their massive bodies nearly as big as the orcs themselves, were grazing in the clearing. Their skin was a dark, mottled green, blending perfectly with the forest around them.


    Their eyes glowed with an unnatural, malevolent light, and Volk could see the raw power in their muscr frames.


    There were a few smaller boars among them, but even these were formidable, their tusks sharp and dangerous.


    One of the armored orcs stepped forward, his voice low but firm. "Prepare yourselves," he said, his eyes scanning the group of younger orcs.


    "These wild boars are not to be underestimated. This will be your warm-up before we reach the catb. Consider this your first real test as warriors of the horde."


    Volk''s heart raced as he looked at the boars.


    They were massive, their sheer size and the way their muscles rippled beneath their skin were intimidating. He could feel the tension in the air as the younger orcs around him gripped their weapons, he could see their expressions wore a mix of determination and fear.


    The armored orc continued, his gaze locking onto the younger orcs. "We will take down thergest of these beasts. Your task is to deal with the smaller ones. Do not underestimate them. They may be smaller, but they are just as dangerous. Work together, use what you have learned, and prove that you are worthy to stand among us."


    Volk swallowed hard, his grip tightening on his basher club.


    The weight of the task ahead of him settled in his gut, but he pushed the fear aside.


    This was what he had been training for, what all of them had been preparing for. He wouldn''t let hisrades down.


    The armored orc who had spoken earlier raised his weapon high into the air and shouted, "Lok''tar Ogar!" His voice was a battle cry, filled with the promise of blood and victory.


    The other armored orcs echoed the cry, their voices joining in unison. "Lok''tar Ogar!"


    The sound of their battle cry rang out through the forest, a call to arms that sent a shiver down Volk''s spine.


    The wild boars in the clearing lifted their heads, their glowing eyes locking in them.


    ROOARRRKK!!

 Chapter 29: Hazardous Warthog

    The battle began with a sudden ferocity that took even the seasoned warriors by surprise.


    The younger orcs, still green in their experience, hesitated for only a fraction of a second before they charged forward, weapons raised. But it was enough time for the wild boars to lunge, immediately their massive bodies were crashing through the underbrush with terrifying speed.


    "Hold your ground, Mag''Durotans!" bellowed one of the armored orcs, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Do not let them push you back! Use your hands if you can''t use your weapons properly! The hazardous magic particles are sapping your strength!"


    Volk barely had time to register themand before a wild boar, its tusks gleaming with a sickly green light, barreled toward him. He swung his club with all his might, the heavy weapon connecting with a dull thud against the boar''s side.


    The beast let out a shrill squeal of pain but didn''t slow down. It twisted its massive body, attempting to gore him with its tusks.


    "Keep moving, young Mag''Durotan!" shouted another armored orc from the front lines. "Don''t let them pin you down! Use your hands when your weapon fails you!"


    Volk felt a surge of determination rise within him.


    As the boar came at him again, he sidestepped the charging beast and swung his club again, in a split second, the heavy impact sent the boar crashing to the ground.


    Kabam!


    The air around him was thick, oppressive, as if the very forest were pressing down on him. He saw the other younglings faltering under the weight of the magic particles in the air, their movements bing sluggish as their strength waned.


    But to Volk''s surprise, he felt¡­ fine.


    The oppressive atmosphere that seemed weighed so heavily on the others barely touched him. If anything, he felt a strange resistance within him, a force that kept the debilitating effects of the particles at bay.


    "Get to its nks!"manded the armored orc who had spoken before. "Their strength is in their size and momentum! Don''t face them head-on¡ªmove to their sides and strike where they''re weakest!"


    Volk nodded, though he wasn''t sure if the orc could see him. He focused on the boar, trying to remember his training. He feinted to the left, drawing the beast''s attention, then quickly shifted to the right, bringing his club down hard on its hind leg.


    The boar stumbled, and Volk seized the opportunity, swinging his club again and again until the beast copsed to the ground.


    But there was no time to celebrate his small victory.


    Another boar was already charging toward him, and he could hear the shouts and cries of his fellow younglings as they struggled against the relentless assault.


    "Watch your nks, damn it!" roared another armored orc, his voice filled with frustration. "You''re not in this alone! Support each other, Mag''Durotans! Don''t get separated!"


    Volk gritted his teeth, trying to keep the armored orc''s advice in mind as he ducked and weaved through the chaos. He noticed the way the others faltered, their movements bing sluggish as their energy was drained by the magical particles. But he felt no such weakness.


    It was as if the magic particles, which affected everyone else so severely, simply passed over him without consequence. He felt strong, focused, his movements as quick and precise as ever.


    A young orc near Volk was knocked to the ground by a particrly vicious boar, and Volk barely managed to pull him out of the way before the beast could finish him off.


    The young orc looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes, his hands trembling as he tried to get back to his feet.


    "Get up!" Volk shouted, grabbing the orc by the arm and hauling him to his feet. "We don''t have time for fear! Fight, damn it!"


    The young orc nodded, swallowing hard as he picked up his weapon and rejoined the fray.


    Volk turned his attention back to his own fight, trying to ignore the burning in his muscles as he swung his club at another boar.


    "Keep moving!" came another shout from the armored orcs, their voices a constant presence in the battle. "Don''t let them corner you! If you stop, you''re dead!"


    Volk could feel the truth of their words in every aching muscle.


    The boars were relentless, their sheer size and strength overwhelming the younger orcs.


    For every beast they brought down, two more seemed to take its ce. The air was thick with the stench of blood and sweat, and the ground was slick with mud and gore.


    But despite the overwhelming odds, Volk was surprised to find that he wasn''t weakening as much as the others.


    Or maybe the magic particles were affecting him, yes, but not to the extent that they were draining the strength of hisrades. He didn''t have time to dwell on the why of it, but he could see the looks of confusion and surprise on the faces of the older orcs whenever they nced in his direction.


    "Why isn''t that young Mag''Durotan weakening?" one of the armored orcs muttered, his voice just loud enough for Volk to catch as he swung his club at another boar. "He should be on hisst legs by now¡­"


    "Focus on the fight!" snapped another armored orc. "We can figure out whyter¡ªright now, we need to survive!"


    The battle raged on, the young orcs struggling to keep up with the unrelenting assault.


    Volk rolled out of the way of a charging boar,ing up on his feet just in time to bash it across the head with his club.


    The beast staggered, but it didn''t go down.


    "Get its legs, Volk!" shouted an armored orc, his voice barely audible over the din of battle. "Take out its legs and it''ll go down!"


    Volk did as he was told, immediately his club connected with the beast''s front leg with a sickening crunch.


    The boar let out a pained squeal, copsing to the ground, but even as it fell, itshed out with its tusks, catching Volk across the chest. He stumbled back, the breath knocked out of him, but he didn''t go down. He felt the sharp pain where the tusks had struck him, but it only fueled his determination further.


    "Don''t stop!" the armored orc yelled, his voice a mixture of encouragement andmand. "If you fall now, you won''t get back up!"


    Volk nodded grimly, pushing through the pain as he brought his club down on the boar''s head, finally ending its struggle. He didn''t have time to catch his breath before another boar was on him, and he could hear the shouts of the other younglings as they fought their own battles.


    The ground was littered with the bodies of fallen boars, but there were still more of them, their glowing eyes filled with a malevolent intelligence that sent a chill down Volk''s spine.


    He could feel the fatigue setting in, the magic particles gnawing at his strength, but he refused to give in.


    "Remember your training!" shouted an armored orc as he decapitated a boar with a swift swing of his massive axe. "We trained you for this! Stay focused, stay alive!"


    Volk tried to do just that, his mind racing as he fought off yet another boar.


    The beasts were relentless, their sheer numbers threatening to overwhelm the younger orcs despite the best efforts of the armored veterans. And then, suddenly, something changed.


    The boars, as one, stopped their assault.


    The clearing fell eerily silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the orcs and the rustling of leaves in the wind.


    The boars turned as one, immediately their glowing eyes fixed on something in the distance.


    Volk followed their gaze, ignoring his breath catching in his throat as he saw what had captured their attention.


    Emerging from the shadows of the forest was a creature unlike any hazardous boars around.


    It was massive, easily twice the size of thergest boar they had encountered. Its skin was a mottled green, almost ck in ces, and its tusks were long and jagged, curving wickedly upward. Its eyes glowed with a sickly green light, and a deep, guttural growl rumbled from its throat as it surveyed the battlefield.


    One of the armored orcs, with a voice trembling in fear, spoke in a hushed tone. "It''s a Hazardous Warthog¡­ Everyone, stay still."


    Volk could feel the fear in the air, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. The armored orc continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do not move. Do not even breathe if you can help it. This creature is beyond us. Even with our Grum-gar form, we are no match for it.


    It hunts those who are cleaner or untainted by the hazardous magic. If it sees us, it will attack."


    But it was toote.


    The Hazardous Warthog''s eyes locked onto Volk, and in that instant, Volk knew there was no escaping it.


    The beast let out a deafening roar that shook the very ground beneath their feet, and then, with terrifying speed, it charged directly at him.


    "Run!" one of the armored orcs shouted, but Volk couldn''t move. His legs felt like they were made of lead, his heart pounding in his chest as the beast bore down on him.


    There was no time to think, no time to react.


    All he could do was close his eyes and brace himself for the impact that was sure toe.

 Chapter 30: Labor Orcs curse

    Volk braced himself for the impact, expecting to be thrown aside or crushed beneath the enormous tusks of the Hazardous Warthog. His muscles tensed, ready to spring into action, but instead of the anticipated force, he felt something else¡ªa warm, gentle whoosh of breath washing over his face.


    Confused, he kept his eyes shut tight, heart pounding in his chest like a drum thud thud thud. When nothing happened after several heartbeats, he cautiously opened one eye.


    To his shock, he found himself staring directly into a massive nostril, mere inches from his face.


    The Warthog was sniffing him, its breath warm and surprisingly gentle.


    Volk''s jaw dropped with a quiet ck, and his breath caught in his throat.


    "Eh?"


    The absurdity of the situation hit him all at once¡ªhere he was, face to face with a beast that was supposed to be one of the most dangerous creatures in this cursed forest, and it was¡­ smelling him?


    Volk''s mind raced. "What¡­ is happening?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely more than a whisper. His heart pounded thud thud thud as he struggled to make sense of the scene unfolding before him.


    The Warthog''s eyes, glowing with that eerie green light, seemed to study him with something that resembled curiosity¡ªor was it pity?


    The massive beast tilted its head slightly and nudged Volk gently with its snout.


    The touch was delicate, almost tender, as though the creature was afraid of hurting him. Volk''s heart skipped a beat, and his body tensed involuntarily, but the Warthog made no move to harm him. It merely continued to inspect him, as if it were trying to puzzle out why he was different from the other orcs.


    Volk''s confusion deepened as the Warthog continued its strange behavior. It circled him slowly, its massive bulk moving with an unexpected grace. The beast''s nose brushed against Volk''s chest swish, then his shoulders swish, then his arms, as if it were checking for something.


    Each touch was light, almost reverent, as though the Warthog was handling something fragile.


    At one point, the Warthog pressed its snout against Volk''s side and released a deep, rumbling breath grrrh that shook his entire body. Volk felt the vibration travel through his bones vrrrr, leaving a strange, tingling sensation in its wake. He could feel the Warthog''s breath on his skin, warm and steady, as it continued its bizarre inspection.


    It then nudged Volk''s leg, as if testing his stability.


    Shook!


    Volk stumbled slightly, but the Warthog didn''t react aggressively.


    Instead, it pulled back, looking at him with those glowing eyes filled with¡­ pity? Yes, Volk realized with a jolt, there was unmistakable pity in the Warthog''s gaze, as though it saw him as something weak and fragile, something in need of protection.


    Volk could hardly believe what was happening.


    "Is this really happening?" He mumbled.


    This creature, this monstrous beast that was supposed to be the most hazardous¡ªno, the most pitiful and weak¡ªcreature in the forest, was treating him with a gentleness that waspletely out of character for its fearsome appearance.


    It even nudged his hand, as if encouraging him to touch it. Volk hesitated for a moment before slowly reaching out. His fingers brushed against the rough, bristly hair on the Warthog''s snout shhhh.


    The beast closed its eyes, seeming to enjoy the touch.


    Around him, Volk could hear the gasps and murmurs of the other orcs gasp gasp, both the younglings and the older, bone-armored warriors.


    Their faces were a mixture of shock and disbelief, their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open.


    Some of them looked like they had just witnessed a miracle, while others seemed unable to process what they were seeing.


    The expressions on their faces were so exaggerated that Volk might haveughed if he hadn''t been so bewildered himself.


    The Warthog, meanwhile, continued its inspection, circling Volk onest time before stopping in front of him again. It sniffed at his hair, its breath ruffling the strands whoosh whoosh, then released a soft, almost contented grunt hrmph.


    The beast''s eyes softened even further, the pity in them almost painful to see. Then, without warning, the Warthog turned and lumbered away, its massive hooves thud thud echoing through the forest floor as it disappeared into the dense foliage as if it had simply lost interest.


    For several long moments, the forest was silent.


    The orcs around Volk remained frozen in ce, their eyes still locked on the spot where the Warthog had stood.


    Volk felt his heart slowly return to a more normal rhythm, but his mind was still racing, trying to make sense of what had just urred.


    "What¡­ just happened?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. He looked around at the other orcs, hoping for some kind of exnation, but all he saw were their stunned faces, their eyes still wide with disbelief.


    The bone-armored orcs, veterans of countless battles and hardships, were staring at him as though he were something otherworldly.


    One of them, an older orc with deep-set scars and weary eyes, finally snapped out of his stupor and barked an order.


    "Mag''Durotans, forward!" His voice was sharp, but Volk could hear the tremor in it, as if the orc couldn''t quite believe what had just happened.


    The younger orcs hesitated for a moment before they began to move, their steps slow and uncertain.


    Volk remained where he was, his mind still struggling to process the encounter. As the others moved past him, one of the bone-armored orcs approached him, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and something Volk couldn''t quite identify.


    "Young Mag''Durotan," the orc began, his voice low and cautious. "Who are you?"


    Volk blinked, the question pulling him out of his daze. "I''m Volk Mog''ger," he replied, the words feeling strange in his mouth after what had just urred. "The current Kaz''rogal of this year."


    The orc stared at him for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. "Current Kaz''rogal?" He asked before contemting, "I see¡­ I heard the current one was a Labor Orc. No wonder the Hazardous Warthog didn''t attack you."


    Volk frowned, still confused. "Why?" he asked respectfully, his tone polite despite the whirlwind of questions in his mind. "What is that Warthog? Why it didn''t attack me?"


    The orc sighed, looking out at the forest with a distant gaze. "The Hazardous Warthog," he began slowly, "is a creature that is considered the strongest among magical beasts in thisnd. This is because it is filled with hazardous magic particlespared to others, which make it more dangerous and stronger. These particles, though dangerous to others, are the Warthog''s power.


    This forest is its domain, where it lords over creatures even weaker than itself."


    Volk listened intently as the orc continued, his voice taking on a tone of grim resignation. "The Warthog despises those who are weaker or who don''t have hazardous magic particles, or those who aren''t burdened by the hazardous magic. It sees them as nothing but a consumable existence, and it will often attack them out of spite, as if to prove it''s the strongest there is.


    But for those who are even more affected by it, even weaker than itself, it feels like a strange kinship. It treats them as more talented than itself, and if you grow to your peak, that''s when it would only attack! To beat you! To prove that it''s mightier than you."


    The exnation left Volk speechless. He had never imagined that such a creature could exist, one that was simultaneously so dangerous yet so... arrogant.


    The orc''s words painted a picture of a beast that was desperate to assert its strength in a world where it was inherently fragile, a contradiction that Volk found difficult to grasp.


    The bone-armored orc ced a heavy hand on Volk''s shoulder, his grip firm but not unkind. "You, Volk Mog''ger, must carry a burden even greater than the Warthog''s. That is why it spared you. It saw in you a potential enemy, one who can endure the same or more hazardous magic particles as the warthog himself."


    Volk didn''t know how to respond. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, none of which seemed to settle. He looked up at the orc, searching for answers, but all he could manage was a weak, "I¡­ I see."


    The older orc nodded, his expression softening slightly. "You have much to learn about this world, Volk Mog''ger. But know this¡ªyou are not alone in your struggle."


    There was a long silence, broken only by the rustling of the leaves above them rustle rustle. Volk felt the weight of the orc''s words settle heavily on his shoulders, a responsibility he hadn''t anticipated but could not ignore. He took a deep breath inhale, trying to steady himself, but before he could speak, the orc''s voice cut through the quiet.


    "Are you familiar with the Labor Orc curse?" the orc asked, his tone serious.


    Volk looked up, his confusion returning. "No," he replied slowly, unsure of what this new revtion would bring. "What is it?"

 Chapter 31: Curse information

    The march through the dense, verdant forest was steady, and the sound of their  heavy boots and the asional nk of armor were echoing through the trees asionally.


    Volk found himself walking beside the bone-armored orc who had approached him earlier.


    This orc, unlike the others, seemed particrly interested in Volk, his gaze thoughtful as they moved forward.


    Finally, the orc broke the silence, his deep voice filled with pride. "I am Grommash, known as Grommash the Great Hunter. My title is well-earned, for I have hunted and in beasts that would turn the stomachs of lesser orcs. My arrows have found the hearts of creatures that would make even the bravest warriors tremble."


    Volk nodded, acknowledging Grommash''s introduction. He was keenly aware of the orc''s prowess, evident in the way he carried himself and the respect hemanded from the others.


    Grommash''s eyes, however, were not filled with the usual condescension Volk had be ustomed to. Instead, there was a strange mixture of curiosity and something close to pity.


    As they marched, Grommash began to speak again, his voice lowering slightly as he broached a more serious topic. "You have heard of the Labor Orc curse, yes? Right?"


    Volk nodded, but Grommash continued, as ifpelled to exin in more detail. "Long ago, all orcs were warriors, fierce and proud. Our ancestors fought with unmatched strength and courage. But as time passed, some among us began to consume food tainted with hazardous magic particles. These particles, though not immediately fatal, had a slow and insidious effect on our people."


    Volk listened intently, his mind recalling the memories of the Labor Orc that he upied, but Grommash''s ount was more detailed, more vivid. "The food, rich in hazardous magic particles, began to weaken our bodies over generations. Those who consumed it became less robust, less fierce. They lost their desire for battle, their bodies unable to withstand the rigors ofbat.


    These orcs became what we now know as Labor Orcs."


    Grommash''s voice was heavy with the weight of history as he continued, "Labor Orcs are a shadow of what they could have been. They are much weaker than the warrior orcs, unable to fight, only capable of working for the rest of their lives. Theyck the fire that drives us, the desire to breed and carry on the bloodline.


    Worse yet, they are sterile¡ªunable to produce offspring unless certain conditions are met. They are born to toil and die in obscurity."


    Volk felt a pang of sadness as he listened. He had always known about the curse, but hearing itid out so inly, with such stark honesty, made it all the more real. He nodded, signaling to Grommash that he understood. But the Great Hunter wasn''t done.


    "Even in their Grum-gar form," Grommash said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "Labor Orcs are weak. The Grum-gar form is supposed to be the ultimate expression of an orc''s power, a transformation that grants us the strength of the ancients. But for a Labor Orc, it is a pale imitation."


    Grommash exined further, his words deliberate and slow, as though he was choosing each one carefully. "A normal warrior orc, when in their Grum-gar form, can strengthen themselves up to five times over. This is the mark of a true warrior, to tap into the power that runs deep in our blood. But a Labor Orc¡­ they can only manage to double their strength. Even this is a rarity among them.


    It is a pale shadow of what should be. In the neighboring n, there are still some who can manage fivefold transformations, but they live in seclusion, their strength too precious to be risked in battle."


    Volk''s mind raced as he absorbed this information. He had never fully understood the limitations of the Labor Orcs especially his own, but now it was clear.


    If he could only strengthen himself twice in his Grum-gar form, then his arsenal inbat was severely limited.


    "Am I really limited inbat? Is that why even though when I introduced myself as a Kaz''rogal, they didn''t find it that much special?" He mumbled.


    This realization struck him hard, like a cold stone of dread settling in his gut. He felt powerless.


    Back when he fought Luk''Tar, he only got strengthened twice, and nothing more than that. If he can only truly strengthen twice, doesn''t that mean he will still be considered weak?


    Grommash continued, his tone growing even more serious. "There''s more. The Labor Orcs, once they miss the ceremony of Union to the elves, lose the ability to breed forever. Even if they manage to participate, they can only produce offspring with one female elf. No others."


    Volk knew this already, and the mention of it stirred memories of his own struggles. He had nearly missed his chance to wed Solluha''r because of Luk''Tar, the thief who had stolen his earth mole kill. That near-miss could have cost him everything. The reminder sent a shiver down his spine.


    Grommash''s words cut through his thoughts like a de. "This is why we pity you, Volk Mog''ger. The curse is not just about weakness. It is about loss¡ªof strength, of heritage, of potential. Even your children, if they inherit your Grum-gar form, will be weak. Though they might awaken the power, it will be a faint echo of what it should be."


    Volk felt a deep ache in his chest at the thought. His children cursed before they were even born. And yet, Grommash offered a sliver of hope. "But take heart, Volk Mog''ger. Despite all this, you are different. Your rise to the position of Kaz''rogal is proof of your strength.


    You will grow, perhaps not in the way others do, but in your own way. Your Labor Orc blood will make you more efficient than others, and your rise to power will be swift. You may not be able to multiply your strength fivefold, but what you can do with your twofold strength will be unmatched."


    Volk struggled to process this. "Is that really it?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. "Am I truly so limited inbat?"


    Grommash paused, his expression unreadable. "Yes and no. Your strength may be capped at twice what it could be, but your mind, your tactics, your ingenuity¡ªthese are where you will excel. A warrior is not just muscle and bone. It is also the mind and heart. You will find your own path, Volk Mog''ger."


    Volk would think this is just a consultation to make him feel at ease, but it''s not helping him. Still, to look polite, he nodded, while still reeling from the weight of Grommash''s words.


    Immediately after that, his thoughts swirled, questions bubbling up, but before he could voice them, a loud,manding voice cut through their conversation.


    "Mag''Durotan, Haaaaaaalt!"


    The order was immediate, and the entirepany of orcs came to a sudden stop.


    The forest, which had been filled with the steady rhythm of their march, now fell into an eerie silence.


    Volk could feel the tension in the air, the anticipation of what was toe.


    "Formation!"


    The voice rang out again, this time closer, more insistent.


    The orcs began to move, falling into practiced ranks with military precision.


    The younglings, including Volk, quickly fell into ce, their hearts pounding in unison with the drumbeat of war that seemed to echo in the distance.


    Volk''s mind was still racing with the conversation he''d just had with Grommash, but he forced himself to focus. This was no time for introspection. He didn''t know what happened, but it seemed like something came up.

 Chapter 32: Dreadmaw Clan

    The dense, ancient forest seemed to close in around them as Volk and the other young orcs continued their march.


    Every step forward felt heavier, as if the ground itself was trying to slow them down.


    Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a distant, thunderous roars that rolled through the trees like a wave.


    The young orcs froze in ce, their eyes wide with confusion and a hint of fear. They exchanged nervous nces, unsure of what the sound meant.


    Even Volk, who hadn''t many unknowns in this strange new world, felt a shiver run down his spine. The roars were unlike anything he had ever heard¡ªa deep, primal sound that stirred something ancient and instinctual within them.


    One of the bone-armored orcs, standing at the front of the group, turned to address the younglings. His voice was calm but carried the weight of authority. "Listen up, young Mag''Durotans," he began, his tone brooking no argument. "What you just heard is the sound of battle, far off but close enough to matter.


    We are near the catbs, a ce where many ns converge, including ours¡ªthe Dreadmaw n. Those roars you hear are the battle cries of our brothers and sisters, chosen as representatives to fight for the honor of our n."


    Volk and the others leaned in, their attention fully captured.


    The armored orc continued, his voice taking on a storyteller''s cadence, as if recounting an old legend. "The catbs are sacred grounds, ces of power and mystery. When we draw near, it is tradition that the ns send their strongest young warriors to fight. The victors earn the right to enter the catbs first, securing their ce in the trials ahead.


    It''s a battle not just of strength, but of skill, wit, and determination. Those who prevail are seen as worthy in the eyes of our ancestors."


    The exnation was long and detailed, but none of the young orcs minded.


    They were spellbound, hanging on to every word. Volk''s heart pounded in his chest, somehow his blood pumping with an unknown excitement. He could picture the scene the armored orc was describing¡ªyoung orcs, not much older than himself, locked in fiercebat.


    As the armored orc''s words sank in, one of the younglings, a smaller orc with a curious expression, raised his hand. "But what is a catb, exactly?"


    The armored orc nodded, clearly expecting the question. "Ah, a wise question, young one. The catbs¡­ they are more than just caves. They are ancient ces, steeped in magic and mystery. When you enter a catb, you are stepping into the unknown. It''s said that the catbs are not of this world, or perhaps they are, but they exist on the edge of our reality.


    When you pass through their gates, you could be transported anywhere."


    He paused for effect, letting the weight of his words settle on the young orcs. "Some who enter find themselves in a simple cave, dark and silent, where they must rely on their senses and courage to navigate. In these ces, you may travel together, relying on each other''s strength. But the catbs are unpredictable.


    At times, they will pull you apart, sending each orc to a different ce¡ªalone, separated from their kin, forced to face whatever lies ahead without support."


    Volk felt a chill at the thought of being alone in such a ce, cut off from hispanions.


    The armored orc''s voice grew even more serious as he continued. "Some of the catbs are filled with traps, ancient mechanisms designed to test the unwary. Others arebyrinths, twisting and turning, leading you deeper and deeper until you are hopelessly lost.


    And then there are those that are alive, where the very walls seem to move, where shadows y tricks on your mind, and the echoes of your footsteps seem toe from all directions at once."


    The young orcs were silent, their minds racing with the images conjured by the armored orc''s words.


    Volk could almost see it¡ªthe twisting tunnels, the shifting walls, the traps waiting to spring. He felt a mix of fear and excitement, his warrior''s spirit rising to the challenge even as his rational mind balked at the dangers.


    The armored orc''s voice dropped to a near whisper, forcing the young orcs to lean in even closer. "And then there are the portals. Sometimes, the catbs will open up a portal, a doorway to a ce beyond our world. Those who step through may find themselves in and of fire and ash, or a realm of eternal night, where the stars never shine and the air is thick with the scent of death.


    Only the strongest, the wisest, can navigate these ces and return."


    Another roar echoed through the forest, louder this time, pulling the young orcs back to the present. But this time, the bone-armored orc leading them did not raise a war cry in response. Instead, a heavy silence fell over the group, the absence of the expected shout a bad omen.


    They stood there for what felt like an eternity, the tension mounting with every passing second. Then, finally, the order came. "March!" The bone-armored orcs barked outmands, and the group began to move again, their pace quickening as they made their way through the thick underbrush.


    As they walked, Volk couldn''t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his gut.


    The roars in the distance had stopped. However, omething wasn''t right. He could feel it in his bones, a sense of foreboding that grew stronger with each step.


    The armored orcs continued to shoutmands, their voices carrying through the trees. "Keep your formation tight! Eyes forward! Watch your footing!" The young orcs obeyed without question, their focus sharpened by the tension in the air.


    Volk found himself near the back of the group, his mind racing as he tried to process everything he had just learned.


    The catbs sounded like a ce of endless danger and uncertainty, a true test of an orc''s mettle. But there was something else bothering him, something that gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.


    Suddenly, he felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, as if he were being watched. He nced around, his eyes scanning the ranks of young orcs marching beside him.


    That''s when he saw it¡ªan orc, not far from him, staring directly at him with a look of pure animosity.


    The orc''s eyes were dark, his expression twisted with anger and hatred. Volk didn''t recognize him, but the intensity of the orc''s gaze sent a shiver down his spine.


    There was no mistaking the hostility in those eyes¡ªthis orc saw Volk as an enemy.


    Volk quickly looked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn''t know why this orc was targeting him, but he could feel the weight of that stare burning into his back. He forced himself to focus on the march, on themands being shouted by the armored orcs, but the feeling of unease lingered, like a shadow that refused to be shaken.


    As they continued their march, the cave entrance finally came into view¡ªa dark, gaping maw in the side of a rocky hill, shrouded in mist and shadows. The bone-armored orcs stopped just outside, their eyes scanning the group of younglings.


    "Form up!" one of the armored orcs shouted.


    The young orcs quickly fell into line, their expressions a mix of determination and fear.


    Volk took his ce in the formation, trying to push aside the feeling of dread that had settled over him.


    The entrance to the cave loomed before them, dark and foreboding. The mist that clung to the ground seemed to swirl with a life of its own, as if beckoning them to step inside. Volk swallowed hard, his mouth dry as he stared into the darkness.


    The bone-armored orc at the front of the group turned to address them onest time. "This is it, young Mag''Durotans. The catbs await. Remember what I''ve told you. Stay together if you can, but be prepared to face whatever lies within on your own. Trust in your strength, trust in your wits, and you may just survive."


    With that, he raised his hand, signaling them to move forward.


    The young orcs took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness.


    As Volk stepped into the cave, the feeling of animosity from the orc who had been watching him returned, stronger than ever. He didn''t dare look back, but he could feel those eyes boring into him, filled with a hatred he couldn''t understand.


    But there was no time to dwell on it now.


    The catbs were ahead, and whatever awaited them inside would demand his full attention. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was inside, and plunged into the darkness.

 Chapter 33: GrokThar

    The cold, damp air of the cave clung to Volk''s skin like a secondyer.


    The walls of the cave were rough and jagged, as if they had been carved out by some ancient force of nature.


    Sharp, angr rocks jutted out from the walls at odd angles, and the floor was uneven, strewn with loose stones that crunched underfoot.


    The ceiling was high, disappearing into shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own. Here and there, thin stctites hung from the ceiling like the fangs of some great beast, dripping water into small pools that had formed on the cave floor.


    The sound of the water dripping echoed through the cave, creating a haunting rhythm that seemed to pulse in time with Volk''s heartbeat.


    As Volk made his way deeper into the cave, he kept his senses alert.


    The darkness pressed in around him, but his eyes had begun to adjust, allowing him to make out the faint outlines of the cave''s interior.


    The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else¡ªsomething ancient and musty, like the smell of old bones.


    Every now and then, he could hear a distant rumble, as if the cave itself was alive, shifting and groaning in its sleep.


    Suddenly, Volk heard a soft rustling sound from up ahead. His muscles tensed, and he raised his club, ready to strike. But before he could make a move, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows¡ªa young orc he recognized from earlier, the one he had helped during the battle with the hazardous boars.


    The orc''s face lit up with recognition as he saw Volk.


    "Volk!" the orc eximed, his voice echoing through the cave. "It''s you! I wasn''t sure if I''d run into you again in this ce."


    Volk lowered his club, relief flooding through him. "It''s good to see a friendly face," he said, offering a nod of greeting. "I didn''t expect to find anyone so soon."


    The orc approached Volk, his posture respectful. "I am Grok''Thar, Bone Cleaner of the Dreadmaw n. And the one I serve is Thrash''Kull, our n''s great warrior." Grok''Thar paused, then added with a hint of gratitude, "I wanted to thank you, Volk. If you hadn''t helped me earlier, I might not be standing here right now."


    Volk shrugged, trying to downy his role. "You would''ve done the same for me, I''m sure. We''re all in this together. By the way, your name sounds like Grak''thor."


    Grok''Thar smiled, a rare expression of warmth from an orc, and nodded. "Yeah, my name is after him, he saved my mother¡­ But still, I owe you. Perhaps we can stick together in this ce. It''s safer that way."


    Volk considered the offer for a moment, then nodded. "Agreed. This ce is dangerous enough without being alone."


    As they began to walk together, their footsteps echoing softly in the cave, Grok''Thar nced around, his eyes scanning the dark corners warily. "We were thest to enter the catbs," he said, his voice hushed. "Most of the other ns were already inside before us. That''s why it''s been so quiet."


    Volk looked at Grok''Thar, curious. "How many ns are there? I''ve only ever really known our Dreadmaw n."


    Grok''Thar''s brow furrowed in thought. "There are eight ns in total. Let''s see¡­ there''s the Bloodfang n, fierce and proud. Their warriors are known for their brutality in battle. Then there''s the Ironhide n¡ªthey''re tougher than stone, and their skin is as hard as iron, making them almost impossible to wound."


    Volk nodded, listening intently as Grok''Thar continued.


    "Next is the Thunderstrike n, known for their speed and agility. They move like lightning on the battlefield, striking fast and hard. The Stonefist n is another¡ªmassive brutes who can crush bones with a single blow. Their strength is unmatched, but they''re not the quickest."


    Grok''Thar hesitated for a moment before going on. "The Shadoww n¡­ They''re the ones you never seeing. They move in the shadows, silent and deadly. They''re the most feared assassins among the ns. Then there''s the Fireblood n, known for their fiery temper and their affinity with me magic. They''re dangerous, especially in close quarters."


    He paused again, thinking. "Finally, there''s the Frostbite n, cold and calcting. Their warriors are like ice¡ªcalm, unyielding, and merciless. And of course, our own Dreadmaw n, the hunters. We''re known for our resilience and our ability to track and survive in the harshest conditions."


    Volk absorbed the information, his mind racing as he imagined the other ns and their warriors. "Do you know how many of them are here in this catb?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.


    Grok''Thar shook his head. "I''m not sure. We were thest to enter, so there could be any number of them already inside. But it''s best to assume that we''re not alone."


    As they continued to walk, a sudden movement in the shadows caught Volk''s eye. He tensed, ready for a fight, but before he could react, the creature darted away, disappearing into the darkness.


    Grok''Thar frowned, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What was that?" he asked, ncing at Volk.


    Volk lowered his club, equally puzzled. "I''m not sure¡­ It looked like some kind of creature, but it didn''t attack. It just ran."


    Grok''Thar''s eyes widened as a thought struck him. "Wait¡­ could it be because of the hazardous magic particles in your body?" He looked at Volk with a mix of realization and surprise. "Creatures that are more hazardous or weaker than you might be instinctively avoiding you, sensing the power within you."


    Volk blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "Oh?" he murmured, more to himself than to Grok''Thar.


    Grok''Thar nodded, his voice thoughtful. "It makes sense. If these creatures are sensitive to hazardous magic particles, they might see you as a threat. That could work in our favor, Volk. We don''t necessarily need to kill these monsters¡ªthey''re not worth the effort. Their cores aren''t fully formed, so they can''t be turned into crystals yet.


    What we''re really after are the magic crystals that have grown over time from the remains of dead monsters. Those are what we need."


    Volk considered Grok''Thar''s words, his mind racing. If these creatures were avoiding him because of the hazardous magic particles, then they could potentially navigate the catbs without having to fight every monster they encountered. It was a strange thought, but one that could prove to be a valuable advantage.


    As they moved deeper into the cave, they encountered several more creatures¡ªsmall, shadowy figures that skittered away as soon as they sensed Volk''s presence. Each time, Grok''Thar would nce at Volk with a knowing look, his earlier theory seemingly confirmed.


    "See?" Grok''Thar whispered after the third encounter. "They''re avoiding you. We might just have an easier time in here than the others."


    Volk didn''t respond immediately, his thoughts focused on the strange sensation that was slowly building within him. It was like a tug, a subtle pull from deep within the cave, drawing him in a specific direction. He couldn''t exin it, but the feeling was growing stronger with each step they took.


    Suddenly, Volk stopped in his tracks, his gaze fixed on a tunnel branching off to the right. Grok''Thar noticed and turned to him, his expression curious. "What is it?"


    Volk frowned, trying to put the sensation into words. "I¡­ I feel something. A strong hunch, like I''m being pulled towards that tunnel."


    Grok''Thar raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the tunnel Volk was indicating. "A hunch? Could it be something to do with the hazardous magic particles? Maybe there''s something down there that''s connected to it."


    Volk nodded, still feeling the strange pull. "I don''t know, but I think we should check it out. Whatever it is, it feels¡­ important."


    Grok''Thar considered for a moment, then nodded decisively. "Alright, Volk. Lead the way. If you''re being drawn to something, it might be worth investigating."


    With Grok''Thar following closely behind, Volk cautiously entered the tunnel.


    The air grew colder as they ventured further in, the walls narrowing around them.


    The tugging sensation in Volk''s chest grew stronger, more insistent, guiding him deeper into the darkness. He didn''t know what awaited them, but he couldn''t shake the feeling that they were about to uncover something significant¡ªsomething that could change everything.

 Chapter 34: LhumBaggar

    The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, the air growing colder with each step Volk and Grok''Thar took.


    The walls closed in, narrowing to a point where they had to walk single file.


    The strange tugging sensation within Volk''s chest persisted, guiding him forward with an intensity that made him quicken his pace. Grok''Thar kept close behind, his eyes darting around, ever watchful for any sign of danger.


    The silence was heavy, broken only by their footsteps echoing through the narrow passage.


    Just as Volk felt the tension reaching its peak, the tunnel suddenly widened, opening into arger chamber.


    The space was dimly lit by the faint, eerie glow of bioluminescent fungi clinging to the walls, casting long shadows across the uneven floor. And there, in the center of the chamber, stood a group of orcs¡ªeight of them, each adorned with the unmistakable bone maws of creatures they had in, trophies of their prowess in battle.


    The orcs were tall, broad-shouldered, and intimidating, their muscles rippling beneath theyers of armor and furs they wore.


    Their faces were painted with the war symbols of the Dreadmaw n, their eyes gleaming with the fierce determination that marked them as true warriors.


    They turned as one when Volk and Grok''Thar entered, their gazes sharp and appraising.


    Grok''Thar immediately recognized them as fellow n members and rxed slightly, though he kept a hand near his weapon, just in case. "Looks like we''re not alone in here after all," he muttered to Volk, who nodded in agreement.


    One of the orcs, a towering figure with thergest bone maw draped across his shoulders, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied Volk and Grok''Thar. "More from the Dreadmaw n," he rumbled, his voice deep and resonant, echoing off the cavern walls. "Who are you?"


    Grok''Thar stepped forward, offering a respectful nod. "I am Grok''Thar, Bone Cleaner of the Dreadmaw n. This is Volk, the years Kaz''rogal, also of our n. We seek the crystals within these catbs."


    The orc leader grunted, his gaze shifting to Volk. "Volk, huh? The name has reached our ears already. The one who defeated Luk''Tar, is that right?"


    Volk tensed slightly at the mention of Luk''Tar, but he nodded, holding the orc leader''s gaze. "Yes. I defeated him."


    A low murmur ran through the group of orcs, and one of them¡ªa shorter, stockier orc with a fierce expression¡ªspoke up. "We''ve been looking for a leader among us," he said, his tone measured. "And we''ve chosen Lhum''Baggar. He''s the strongest among us."


    At the mention of Lhum''Baggar, Volk''s eyes narrowed.


    The name stirred something deep within him¡ªa vague sense of unease. And then, from behind the group, a figure emerged.


    Lhum''Baggar was a tall orc, even taller than Volk, with thick, corded muscles and a presence that radiated authority. But there was something off about him¡ªhis eyes were closed, and his hands were crossed over his chest, as if he was blind or disinterested.


    Yet, despite his closed eyes, Volk could feel the animosity radiating from him. The air seemed to grow thicker, charged with an undercurrent of tension. The other orcs fell silent, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.


    Lhum''Baggar tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear. Then, in a low, almost casual tone, he spoke. "So, you''re Volk."


    Volk''s grip tightened on his weapon, his heart beating faster. "Yes. I''m Volk."


    Lhum''Baggar''s lips curled into a faint, mocking smile, though his eyes remained closed. "Volk¡­ current Kaz''rogal, correct?"


    Volk felt a shiver run down his spine at the way Lhum''Baggar said his name, as if he was savoring it. "That''s right."


    For a long moment, Lhum''Baggar said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes. They were dark, piercing, and filled with a cold, simmering hatred. "My name is Lhum''Baggar¡­ son of Lak''Ran Durghan."


    The name hit Volk like a punch to the gut. He froze, his mind racing as he tried to process what he had just heard. Lak''Ran Durghan¡­ the father of Luk''Tar. And that could only mean one thing¡­


    Lhum''Baggar''s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it¡ªonly malice. "Yes," he said softly. "I am the brother of Luk''Tar, the one you defeated. The one you shamed."


    Volk swallowed hard, his throat dry. He could feel the weight of the other orcs'' gazes on him, their eyes flicking between him and Lhum''Baggar, anticipating what would happen next. "You''re the brother of the thief?" Volk said, his voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air. "You want to avenge Luk''Tar?"


    Lhum''Baggar uncrossed his arms, his fingers flexing as if testing the weight of an invisible weapon. "Revenge is a strong word," he said, his tone deceptively calm. "But yes¡­ I will make you pay for what you did to him."


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to meet Lhum''Baggar''s gaze without flinching. "Let''s get on with it, then," he said, his voice hardening with resolve. He wasn''t about to back down, not now.


    But before either of them could make a move, the other orcs surged forward, cing themselves between Volk and Lhum''Baggar. "Enough!" one of them shouted, his voice authoritative. "This is not the time for settling old grudges. We''re in the catbs, on a mission. Fighting among ourselves will only lead to disaster."


    Another orc, his face stern, stepped in front of Lhum''Baggar, blocking his path. "Forget the past, Lhum''Baggar. We''re all here for the same reason. The crystals, remember? We need to work together if we''re going to survive this ce."


    The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Lhum''Baggar''s eyes flicked to the orc standing in his way, then back to Volk.


    For a moment, it looked as though he might disregard the others and attack anyway, but then he hesitated.


    "If you win, you be the leader," Lhum''Baggar said, his voice low and menacing. His gaze never left Volk, the challenge clear.


    The other orcs exchanged uneasy nces.


    They knew the risks of fighting in the catbs, but they also knew that this conflict wasn''t going to be resolved easily.


    Finally, one of them sighed, stepping forward. "If you must fight, then do it. But keep it to a challenge. No Grum-gar forms. If one of you uses it, it''s an automatic loss. We can''t afford to waste our strength here."


    Volk hesitated, his mind racing. He had never tested his Radioactive form against another orc, let alone one as dangerous as Lhum''Baggar. But he knew that if he backed down now, it would only embolden his opponent. And besides, Lhum''Baggar had already made it clear that he wasn''t going to let this go.


    "No problem," Volk said, his voice firm. "Let''s get on with it."


    Lhum''Baggar''s lips curled into a predatory grin, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "As you wish, Volk," he said, his tone dripping with dark promise. "Let''s see who the true warrior is."


    The orcs around them stepped back, creating a wide circle in the center of the chamber.


    The atmosphere was electric, charged with the anticipation of the impending sh.


    Volk took a deep breath, steeling himself for the fight. He knew this wasn''t just about proving his strength¡ªit was about survival, about showing that he wasn''t to be underestimated.


    Lhum''Baggar''s grin widened, his hands flexing at his sides. "Prepare yourself, Volk," he said, his voice a low growl. "I''ve been waiting for this moment."


    Volk squared his shoulders, his eyes locked on Lhum''Baggar. "So have I," he replied, his voice steady. "Let''s get on with it."

 Chapter 35: Receiving a beating

    The tension in the air was thick enough for them to taste.


    As the circle of orcs surrounding Volk and Lhum''Baggar began to chant, their voices rising in a crescendo of anticipation, Volk could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat reverberating through his entire body.


    Fight! Fight! Fight!


    The two agree inbat, they could onlyply.


    The stakes were high, and every orc present knew it. This was more than just a fight¡ªit was a battle of pride, strength, and survival.


    Lhum''Baggar''s eyes were cold, calcting. He slowly unclenched his fists, the muscles in his arms bulging as he took a deep breath. "To make this fair," he began, his voice dripping with condescension, "I''ll lower my Brute Mending Force to the level of a three Mag''Durotan. After all, you''re just a Labor Orc. No need to make this unfair, right?"


    Volk felt a spark of anger re within him, but he kept his expression neutral, only allowing a small, fearless grin to curl his lips. "Yeah, a Labor Orc who thrashed your little brother," he shot back, his tone mocking. "And now big brother''s here to rescue him. How touching."


    Lhum''Baggar''s expression remained stony, unfazed by Volk''s taunt.


    Instead, he merely nodded, his muscles flexing and tightening as he focused his energy, clearly preparing himself for the fight.


    The transformation was subtle but powerful; his already imposing physique seemed to be smaller, for their eyes however, it seemed to grow even more formidable as the Brute Mending Force took hold.


    "Alright," Lhum''Baggar exhaled, his voice calm but deadly serious. "Let''s fight."


    Volk rolled his shoulders, stretching his arms out to prepare himself.


    The adrenaline coursing through his veins sharpened his focus, the weight of the uing fight pushing everything else to the back of his mind. "Let''s go," he responded, his voice steady and resolute.


    The surrounding orcs, now fully invested in the battle that was about to unfold, began to pound their chests in a rhythmic beat, the sound growing louder and more intense with each passing second.


    "Fight! Fight! Fight!" they chanted, their voices echoing through the cavernous chamber, filling it with an almost tangible energy.


    And then, without any further warning, the battle began.


    Lhum''Baggar moved first, closing the distance between them with a speed that belied his massive size. His fist shot out, a blur of motion aimed directly at Volk''s head.


    Swoosh!


    Volk barely managed to dodge, feeling the air rush past his face as Lhum''Baggar''s fist narrowly missed its target. But the next punch came faster, and before Volk could react, it mmed into his ribs with the force of a battering ram, sending him staggering back, the breath knocked out of him.


    Kabag!


    The pain was immediate and intense, but Volk gritted his teeth, refusing to show any sign of weakness. He quickly regained his footing, shifting his stance as Lhum''Baggar came at him again, this time with a flurry of blows that seemed impossible to block or dodge.


    Volk did his best, using every trick he had learned, every unorthodox technique he had developed, but it was clear that Lhum''Baggar''s strength and speed were on a different level.


    Blow after blow rained down on Volk¡ªpunches, kicks, brutal strikes that sent shockwaves of pain through his body. He could feel his muscles straining, his bones creaking under the relentless assault.


    Every time he tried to counterattack, Lhum''Baggar was already there, blocking or dodging with a fluidity that made him seem almost untouchable.


    Volk was fighting to survive, every move he made driven by pure instinct. He was bleeding from his mouth, his nose, his body covered in bruises and cuts, but he refused to give up. He could see the looks of concern and fear on the faces of the orcs watching, but he knew he couldn''t afford to think about them. All that mattered was the fight.


    And yet, as the pain grew more intense, as his vision started to blur from the relentless pounding, Volk''s mind began to drift. He found himself transported back to his past life, back to a time when he was weak, helpless, and trapped in a body that had betrayed him from the moment he was born.


    He was back in his childhood home, lying in a bed that had be his prison. His body had been small, frail, with limbs that barely functioned.


    Volk remembered the frustration, the anger, the deep, gnawing sense of inadequacy as he watched others do things he could only dream of¡ªrunning, jumping, fighting. Things that had been impossible for him.


    He had spent his days watching others live the life he could never have, his only sce found in books, games, and the inte.


    He had be a student ofbat, devouring every bit of information he could find about martial arts, tactics, anything that could make him feel like he was a part of that world, even if only in his mind. He had trained his mind, sharpening it, preparing himself for a life he would never get to live.


    But despite the limitations of his body, Volk had never given up. He had refused to let weakness define him, refused to ept that this was all there was for him.


    He had fought, in his own way, against the unfairness of it all. And now, in this new body, in this new world, he had been given a second chance. A chance to be strong, to fight, to live the life he had always dreamed of.


    And Volk wasn''t about to let that chance slip away.


    Volk''s mind snapped back to the present as Lhum''Baggarnded a particrly vicious blow to his side, making him gasp in pain. But even as he stumbled, his vision blurring, Volk''s determination only grew stronger. He wasn''t just fighting Lhum''Baggar¡ªhe was fighting the memories of his past life, fighting the weakness that had haunted him for so long.


    With a grunt of effort, Volk dodged the next punch, using the momentum to deliver a quick, unexpected strike to Lhum''Baggar''s knee.


    Swoosh!


    The bigger orc grunted in surprise, stumbling slightly, giving Volk the opening he needed. He followed up with a series of rapid, precise blows, targeting weak points, using techniques that were foreign to the orcs watching.


    But Lhum''Baggar was far from beaten. He recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing as he realized Volk wasn''t going down as easily as he had expected.


    With a roar of frustration, he lunged at Volk, catching him with a powerful backhand that sent him crashing to the ground. Pain exploded in Volk''s head, his vision going dark for a moment as he struggled to stay conscious.


    He could feel the ground beneath him, cold and unforgiving, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Every part of his body screamed in pain, begging him to give up, to surrender. But Volk knew he couldn''t. He hade too far, fought too hard to let it end here.


    He forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he faced Lhum''Baggar.


    The other orc was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his face, but his eyes were still filled with that cold, burning hatred. Volk could see it now¡ªthis wasn''t just about revenge.


    Lhum''Baggar wanted to prove something, to himself, to the others. He wanted to show that he was stronger, better, that he was the true warrior.


    But Volk wasn''t going to let him have that satisfaction.


    With a renewed sense of determination, Volk charged at Lhum''Baggar, using every ounce of strength he had left. He fought with everything he had, using unorthodox moves, quick strikes, anything that might give him an edge.


    The pain was overwhelming, but he pushed through it, focusing on the fight, on the next move, the next strike.


    And then, just as he was starting to feel like he couldn''t go on, a strange sensation washed over him. It was as if time had slowed, the world around him fading away.


    He could feel something within him, a deep, powerful energy that he had never felt before. It was raw, untamed, but it was there, waiting to be unleashed.


    And then, a notification appeared before his eyes, clear and bright in the darkness of the battle:


    | Ding!


    | Activate Radioactive Form? |


    For a moment, Volk hesitated, his mind racing as he weighed his options. He knew that activating the form could change everything, could give him the edge he needed to win. But at what cost?


    The power was dangerous, uncontroble. He wasn''t sure if he was ready to handle it.


    But as he looked at Lhum''Baggar, at the determination in his eyes, the desire to crush him, Volk knew that he didn''t have a choice. He had to win. He had to survive.


    Even then, with a deep breath, Volk made his decision.


    No!

 Chapter 36: Sacrifice to win

    Yes!


    Yes!


    Yes!


    ''Yes'' should be the most logical answer he should answer.


    But for Volk, it''s not.


    All it would take was one word, one simple thought to activate the Radioactive form that hummed within him, begging to be unleashed. But Volk knew what that would mean.


    In the Orcs, the rules ofbat were sacred, and to use the Radioactive form¡ªa form so closely akin to the Grum-gar or Ogre form¡ªwould be considered a loss, a surrender, a forfeiture of his honor.


    "No," he muttered under his breath, dismissing the notification.


    As tempting as it was, Volk had no intention of winning through a form of power that would tarnish the victory. He wanted to defeat Lhum''Baggar on even ground, to prove to himself and to everyone watching that he, a Labor Orc could stand toe-to-toe with a warrior and emerge victorious.


    The orcs surrounding them quieted slightly as Lhum''Baggar spoke, his voiceced with mocking disdain. "Is that all you''ve got, Kaz''rogal?" he sneered, referring to the title bestowed upon the year''s most promising Labor Orc.


    His words were apanied by a deft disy of skill as he twirled his massive war ax between his hands, the weapon seeming to dance as it moved fluidly from left to right, the sharp edge catching the dim light.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, watching Lhum''Baggar closely.


    The other orcs began to murmur amongst themselves, their voices tinged with awe and fear.


    "Did you see that? He''s gotten even better with that ax since thest time."


    "Yeah, I heard he''s been training nonstop, day and night. No one''s been able to match him."


    "Look at the way he handles it¡ªlike it''s just an extension of his arm. How can Volk possibly stand up to that?"


    "He''s already bleeding and bruised. I don''t think he can take much more."


    Volk could hear every word, eachment fueling the fire inside him. He knew Lhum''Baggar was trying to get into his head, trying to rattle him with his skill and taunts. But Volk had been through worse. He had faced challenges far beyond the physical realm, battles of the mind and spirit that had forged him into the fighter he was today.


    Lhum''Baggar''s taunts continued, his voice dripping with arrogance as he moved closer, his ax now pointed directly at Volk. "So, this is the mighty Volk, huh? The one who got lucky against my brother? Luk''Tar must have been exhausted after hunting those skinless beasts. That''s the only way you could have beaten him."


    Volk''s grin was tense, a mask hiding the turmoil within.


    The truth was, he had taken a beating from Lhum''Baggar not because hecked strength or skill, but because he had been focused¡ªtoo focused¡ªon the ax.


    Lhum''Baggar''s mastery of the weapon had left Volk on the defensive, his mind racing to understand the patterns, the rhythm of the strikes. But now, Volk could feel it¡ªhe was starting to see through it, starting to recognize the timing, the tells that Lhum''Baggar unconsciously revealed.


    Just then, another notification shed across Volk''s vision:


    | Ding!


    | Mission: Defeat the Weapon Handler Lhum''Baggar.


    | Reward: Basic Mastery of Ax Handling.


    Failure: Radioactive Time use will be reduced. |


    Volk''s eyes widened slightly at the reward.


    The system had finally recognized the challenge he faced, and it was offering him something that could tip the scales in his favor.


    Basic Mastery of Ax Handling would be invaluable, a key to understanding Lhum''Baggar''s movements and countering them effectively. But failure would mean a reduction in his Radioactive Time, a resource he couldn''t afford to lose.


    His thoughts were interrupted by Lhum''Baggar''s voice, dripping with sarcasm and challenge. "Why don''t you try that little trick you pulled on Gozorm''al? I''d like to see if it works on someone like me."


    Volk''s mind raced back to the battle with Gozorm''al, a brutish opponent who had fallen for a simple ruse¡ªa handful of dirt thrown into his eyes, followed by a quick, decisive strike.


    Lhum''Baggar''s words were meant to mock, to suggest that such a tactic would never work on him.


    But that was his mistake.


    Volk''s grin widened slightly, a n beginning to form in his mind. "If that''s what you want, Lhum''Baggar," he said, his voice low and steady, "then let''s do this."


    Without wasting another moment, Volk lunged forward, feigning an attack with his right hand.


    As expected, Lhum''Baggar''s ax was there to meet it, the de slicing through the air with deadly precision. But Volk was already a step ahead. He twisted his body, letting the ax graze his left hand, slicing through his fingers.


    The pain was sharp, searing, but Volk didn''t let it slow him down. Instead, he used the momentum to flick his hand, sending a spray of blood directly into Lhum''Baggar''s eyes.


    Lhum''Baggar roared in surprise, instinctively raising his hands to wipe the blood from his face, his vision momentarily obscured. It was all the opening Volk needed.


    Without hesitation, Volk swung his right arm, bringing down the club with thorns that he had been gripping tightly.


    The weapon crashed into Lhum''Baggar''s side with a resounding thud, the force of the blow reverberating through the cavern.


    The surrounding orcs erupted in shouts, their voices a mix of shock and excitement as they watched the unexpected turn of events.


    Lhum''Baggar staggered, his hand still clutching his ax, but his movements were unsteady, his bnce disrupted by the sudden, blinding attack.


    Volk didn''t stop. He pressed the advantage, his movements fueled by adrenaline and the deep, burning desire to prove himself. He swung the club again, this time aiming for Lhum''Baggar''s legs, forcing therger orc to stumble back.


    Each strike was calcted, precise, aimed at keeping Lhum''Baggar off bnce, preventing him from regaining hisposure.


    But Lhum''Baggar wasn''t done yet. He snarled, his teeth bared in a feral grin as he finally managed to clear his vision. His eyes zed with fury, his pride wounded by the unexpected assault. "You''ll pay for that," he growled, swinging his ax wildly, trying to regain control of the fight.


    Volk narrowly dodged the first swing, the de whistling past his ear. He could feel the wind from the ax''s movement, a reminder of just how close he hade to being decapitated. But Volk wasn''t about to back down. He knew he couldn''t match Lhum''Baggar''s brute strength, but he didn''t need to. He just needed to outthink him.


    As Lhum''Baggar swung again, Volk ducked low, rolling to the side anding up behind him. He brought the club down hard on the back of Lhum''Baggar''s knee, forcing therger orc to drop to one leg.


    Lhum''Baggar roared in frustration, but Volk didn''t let up.


    Roar!


    He moved quickly, using his smaller size and speed to his advantage, striking at vulnerable points, chipping away at Lhum''Baggar''s defenses.


    The battle was fierce, each strike met with a counter, each blow pushing both orcs closer to their limits.


    Sweat and blood mixed on the ground, the air thick with the scent of iron and the sound of grunts, growls, and the sh of weapons.


    But Volk could feel it¡ªLhum''Baggar was slowing down due to the hit on the temple and the ear upon the first contact.


    The repeated blows to his legs, the blood in his eyes, the relentless assault was taking its toll. He was powerful, yes, but Volk was cunning, and in this fight, cunning was winning out.


    Finally, with a roar of determination, Volk swung his club with all his might, aiming for Lhum''Baggar''s side once more.


    Kabag!


    The impact was solid, the force driving the wind out of Lhum''Baggar''s lungs and sending him crashing to the ground. His ax ttered away from his grasp, now was out of reach.


    Volk stood over him, breathing heavily, with his body screaming in pain, but his eyes filled with resolve.


    Lhum''Baggar looked up at him, his expression a mixture of shock, anger, and something else¡ªrespect.


    With a final, defiant growl, Lhum''Baggar made to stand, but Volk was faster.


    Bang!

 Chapter 37: Axe of Dissection

    The bang echoed through the cavern, a sharp contrast to the raw sounds of battle that had filled the space moments before.


    Volk, muscles tensed and breath heavy, stared down at Lhum''Baggar, his club still raised, ready to deliver the final blow. But something had stopped him.


    He felt the resistance of another weapon meeting him, the force jolting up his arm and halting his movement.


    Volk''s eyes darted upward, and there, standing between him and Lhum''Baggar, was another orc, one of the surrounding warriors who had been watching their brutal contest.


    The new orc was tall, his frame broad and powerful, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of respect and authority.


    "Enough," the orc said, his voicemanding yet calm. "You''ve won, Volk, the great Mag''Durotan."


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest, his gaze flickering between Lhum''Baggar and the new orc.


    The tension in the air was thick, charged with the lingering energy of the fight.


    The orc who had intervened lowered his weapon, stepping back slightly as he continued speaking.


    "If you kill him now, Lhum''Baggar will be forced into his Grum-gar form," the orc exined, his tone serious.


    "And if that happens, ourbat force will be diminished. There are still monsters and other orc tribes inside these catbs, and we need every capable warrior we have. It would be bad for all of us."


    Volk hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing on his shoulder.


    He looked down at Lhum''Baggar, who was still pinned beneath him, breathing heavily, but the defiance in his eyes had dulled, reced by something closer to eptance.


    Slowly, Volk let his grip on the club loosen, allowing his body to slump as he stepped back.


    His legs gave out beneath him, and he fell to the ground with a thud, his body finally yielding to the exhaustion that had been wing at him throughout the fight.


    A moment of silence passed before the surrounding orcs erupted into cheers, their voices echoing off the stone walls.


    "VOLK MOG''GER!" they roared in unison, "VOLK MOG''GER! VOLK MOG''GER!"


    The sound washed over Volk, a strange mix of exhration and relief settling in his chest.


    He had done it¡ªhe had won. And not just any victory, but a hard-fought, honorable one.


    The chants continued, growing louder, their rhythm matching the pounding of Volk''s heart.


    He couldn''t help but feel a swell of pride as the orcs celebrated his victory.


    It was an unfamiliar sensation, but one he found himself strangely enjoying.


    As the cheers began to die down, the orcs gathered around Volk and Lhum''Baggar, their voices a mixture of admiration and curiosity.


    One of them, a grizzled orc with a scar running down the side of his face, stepped forward, reaching into a pouch at his waist.


    He pulled out a small, rough bundle and tossed it toward Volk, who caught it reflexively.


    The bundle was made of animal skin, and Volk could feel a liquid sloshing inside as he shook it near his ear.


    "What''s this?" Volk asked, his voice hoarse from the exertion of the fight.


    The scarred orc grinned, a toothy smile that revealed sharp, yellowed teeth. "That," he said, nodding toward the bundle in Volk''s hand, "is a dreg. It''s the leftover from high-level magic crystals. The elders don''t have much use for it anymore, but it''s still potent enough to heal minor wounds if you drink it."


    Volk looked at the bundle in his hand, then back at the scarred orc, skepticism evident in his eyes. "You sure this isn''t just some kind of poison?"


    The orcughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "If we wanted you dead, Volk Mog''ger, you''d already be rotting on the ground. Go ahead, drink it. It''ll help."


    With a shrug, Volk unwrapped the bundle, revealing a small, crude sk made from hollowed bone. He uncorked it and, after a brief sniff, tilted it back, letting the liquid flow down his throat.


    The taste was bitter, almost metallic, but as soon as it hit his stomach, he felt a warm buzz spread through his body.


    The wounds and bruises that had been screaming for attention moments before seemed to dull, the pain ebbing away as the magic took effect.


    Gulping thest of the liquid, Volk wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked down at his body.


    Slowly but surely, the cuts and bruises began to heal, the flesh knitting itself back together as the magic worked its way through him.


    "Not bad," Volk muttered, more to himself than anyone else.


    Just as the warmth from the dreg began to settle into aforting hum, Lhum''Baggar approached him, his steps heavy but resolute.


    The tension between them had shifted, the animosity that had driven their fight now reced with something more respectful.


    Lhum''Baggar stopped in front of Volk, his eyes steady as he regarded the orc who had bested him.


    "I lost fair and square," he admitted, his voice devoid of bitterness. "You''re the real Kaz''rogal, Volk. I can see that now."


    Volk met his gaze, surprised by the sudden change in demeanor. The Lhum''Baggar who stood before him now was different from the arrogant warrior he had fought moments ago.


    There was a sense of humility in his words, a recognition of Volk''s strength and skill.


    Then, as if remembering something, Lhum''Baggar tilted his head slightly, his expression curious. "Do you know what my ax is called?"


    Volk frowned, not sure where this was leading. "Your ax?"


    Lhum''Baggar nodded, gesturing to the weapon that had fallen to the ground during their fight.


    "It''s called the Ax of Dissection. It has a unique ability¡ªanyone who''s struck by it will lose twice the amount of blood as normal. I was wondering how you managed to use that against me when you sttered your blood in my eyes."


    Volk''s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn''t known that about the ax. His n had been simple¡ªuse a small amount of blood to blind Lhum''Baggar, creating an opening for an attack.


    However, now that he thought about it, there had been more blood than he''d expected, a veritable spray that had caught Lhum''Baggar off guard.


    "I didn''t know," Volk admitted, shaking his head. "I just wanted to blind you. I didn''t realize your ax would make that much blood."


    Lhum''Baggar chuckled, the sound surprisingly good-natured. "Well, it worked better than you could''ve nned. And for that, you deserve this."


    He reached down and picked up the Ax of Dissection, holding it out to Volk with both hands. "As a sign of your victory, and as a sign that you''re the new leader of this expedition, I want you to have it."


    Volk stared at the ax, stunned by the offer. The weapon was finely crafted, its de gleaming even in the dim light of the cavern.


    Taking it from Lhum''Baggar, Volk felt the weight of it in his hands, the power that seemed to hum from within the metal.


    Just then, a familiar sound chimed in Volk''s mind:


    | Ding!


    | You havepleted the mission.


    | Reward: Basic Mastery of Ax Handling. |


    As the knowledge flowed into his mind, Volk felt a surge of confidence. He began to y with the ax, twirling it much like Lhum''Baggar had done earlier.


    The surrounding orcs watched in astonishment as Volk handled the weapon with newfound ease, the Basic Mastery enhancing his understanding and control of the ax.


    The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, their awe evident as Volk effortlessly spun the ax, the de cutting through the air with deadly precision.


    Lhum''Baggar watched with a wide grin, clearly impressed.


    Finally, Lhum''Baggar raised Volk''s hand into the air, his voice booming across the cavern. "To our new leader!"


    The cheers erupted once more, filling the cavern with the sound of victory.


    "VOLK MOG''GER! VOLK MOG''GER!"


    "VOLK MOG''GER! VOLK MOG''GER!"


    "VOLK MOG''GER! VOLK MOG''GER!"


    The chant echoed off the stone walls, a testament to Volk''s triumph and the respect he had earned among his peers.


    As the cheers continued, Volk stood tall, the Ax of Dissection in his hand and the weight of leadership settling on his shoulders. He hade a long way from thebor orc he once was.


    Now, he was more than that.


    He was a leader, a warrior, and most of all, a survivor.

 Chapter 38: Perfect Leader

    The group of orcs, now under Volk''s leadership, marched forward through the winding corridors of the catbs.


    The flickering light from their torches cast long shadows on the stone walls, creating an eerie atmosphere that would have unsettled any ordinary orc. But the Dreadmaw n was anything but ordinary.


    Each step echoed in the silence, but there was no fear in their hearts¡ªonly a sense of purpose.


    Volk, at the front of the group, felt the weight of his new role pressing down on him.


    He was their leader now, and he intended to lead them well.


    Their journey has been remarkably smooth so far.


    The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and the asional whiff of decay, but nothing seemed to challenge their advance.


    It was almost too easy.


    As they moved deeper into the catbs, they passed several other orcish bodies, sprawled lifeless on the ground.


    Some were from rival ns, their armor and weapons distinctive in the dim light, but all bore the same gruesome fate.


    The group slowed to a stop as they came across yet another cluster of dead orcs.


    One of the Dreadmaw warriors, a burly orc with a jagged scar running across his cheek, turned to Volk with a puzzled expression.


    "Howe we haven''t run into any monsters?" he asked, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet.


    "Usually, these dungeons are swarming with creatures ready to rip us apart, but it''s been quiet. Too quiet."


    Grok''Thar, who had been walking just behind Volk, let out a heartyugh. "You lot haven''t figured it out yet?" he said, pping the questioning orc on the back. "It''s because of Volk here!"


    The other orcs looked at Grok''Thar in confusion, clearly not understanding. Volk himself raised an eyebrow, curious about what his friend would say next.


    Grok''Thar grinned widely, showing off his sharp teeth.


    "You see, Volk might have been a Labor Orc, but that''s exactly why we haven''t seen any monsters. His body is riddled with hazardous magic particles, so much so that the monsters probably think he''s some kind of powerful beast. They''re scared of him, that''s why they''re avoiding us!"


    The orcs stared at Volk, their expressions a mix of awe and shock.


    They had known he was different, that he had been a Labor Orc before proving his worth inbat, but they hadn''t realized just how much his past had affected him.


    One of the orcs, a younger warrior with bright, curious eyes, stepped closer to Volk, examining him as if seeing him for the first time.


    "I knew you were tough," he said slowly, "but I didn''t think it was to this extent."


    Volk shrugged, feeling slightly ufortable with the attention.


    He had never asked for any of this¡ªbeing a Labor Orc was something he had been born into, not something he had chosen.


    Yet here he was, leading a group of warriors through a deadly catb, and apparently scaring away monsters just by his presence.


    Grok''Thar, noticing Volk''s difort, decided to lighten the mood.


    "You should have seen some of the things that happened before we met up with you all," he said, chuckling.


    "There was this one time we were about to be ambushed by a pack of something¡ªI couldn''t even tell what they were, just a blur of teeth and ws¡ªand the moment they caught wind of Volk, they turned tail and ran! Didn''t even give us a chance to swing our weapons. They just bolted like their tails were on fire!"


    The orcsughed, the tension easing as Grok''Thar continued to recount the strange and funny encounters they''d had while traveling with Volk.


    The mood in the group lifted as they realized just how fortunate they were to have such an intimidating presence leading them.


    But the light-hearted atmosphere didn''tst long.


    As they continued their journey, Lhum''Baggar approached Volk, his expression serious.


    He walked beside Volk in silence for a few moments, as if gathering his thoughts, before finally speaking.


    "Volk," Lhum''Baggar began, his voice low, "I''ve been thinking about something. About those hazardous magic particles in your body."


    Volk nced at him, curious. "What about them?"


    Lhum''Baggar hesitated, his brow furrowing in thought. "Do you know the extent of how hazardous they are?"


    Volk shook his head. With a cross finger, he would lie. "I don''t. All I know is that they''ve been with me for as long as I can remember. Back when I was a Labor Orc, it was just something I lived with."


    Lhum''Baggar nodded slowly, as if that confirmed something for him.


    "I remember now¡­ back when we were preparing to enter these catbs, I forgot about something that happened with you and a warthog." Then he would swallow his saliva, "Do you remember the Adulthood ceremony?"


    Volk''s interest piqued. "The ceremony of Adulthood?"


    "Yes," Lhum''Baggar continued. "Most of the adult orcs, especially the strongest warriors in the tribe, don''t pay much attention to that ceremony. But what they do is double-check if the chosen Orc and the talented Elf are perfect for each other. If an orc has extremely hazardous magic particles in their body, it means there''s a chance that they might produce less talented offspring.


    And in such cases, the tribe''s elders will break the bond between the Labor Orc and the Elf."


    Volk''s eyes widened as he processed Lhum''Baggar''s words.


    "You mean¡­ they would take the Elf away from the Orc?"


    Lhum''Baggar nodded solemnly.


    "Yes. If the Orc is deemed too hazardous, they will take away his partner or wife and rece him with another Orc¡ªone who''s stronger, more suitable to produce talented offspring."


    A cold fury began to build in Volk''s chest as the implications of Lhum''Baggar''s words sank in. "So, you''re saying¡­ Solluha''r could be taken from me?"


    Lhum''Baggar didn''t respond immediately, his silence speaking volumes. But he remembers her, his brother.


    Still, he looked at Volk with a mixture of sympathy and understanding, knowing all too well the pain of such a realization.


    "Yes," Lhum''Baggar finally said. "It''s a possibility."


    Volk clenched his fists, his anger and fear battling for control.


    Solluha''r was very useful to him.


    The thought of losing her, of having her taken away because of something he had no control over, was unbearable.


    The rage inside him boiled over, but he forced himself to stay calm.


    There had to be a way to prevent it.


    There had to be something he could do.


    "What can I do to stop this?" Volk asked, his voice tight with desperation. "How can I prevent them from taking her?"


    Lhum''Baggar shook his head slowly, his expression regretful.


    "I don''t know, Volk. I wish I did, but I don''t. The elders make those decisions, and they''re not easily swayed. Your hazardous particles¡­ they''re not something you can just get rid of."


    Volk felt a deep sense of hopelessness settle over him.


    He was ready to face down orcs, monsters, and challenges that would have broken lesser warriors, but this¡ªthis was something else entirely.


    This was a fight he didn''t know how to win.


    As they continued to walk, the weight of Lhum''Baggar''s words hung heavily in the air.


    Volk''s mind raced, searching for solutions, for any way he could protect Solluha''r and their future together. But for now, there were no easy answers.


    All he could do was keep moving forward, leading his warriors deeper into the catbs, all while wrestling with the fear that he might lose the one thing he needed the most.

 Chapter 39: Solution

    As the group of orcs continued their journey through the catbs, the oppressive silence of the dark tunnels was broken only by the asional nk of armor and the shuffling of heavy feet on stone.


    Volk walked at the head of the group, his mind still troubled by the conversation he had with Lhum''Baggar.


    The thought of losing Solluha''r was indeed heavy even if he denies it, and the uncertainty of what awaited them at the end of this expedition only added to his worries.


    Suddenly, one of the orcs in the group moved up to walk beside Volk and Lhum''Baggar.


    He was a broad-shouldered, muscr orc with a long, jagged scar running from his forehead to his chin.


    His eyes were a sharp, intelligent green, and his presencemanded respect from the others.


    "I am Grashk, son of Kor''Thul, known as the Child Protector," the orc introduced himself, his voice deep and resonant.


    "My father was a respected warrior, and I have earned my title by ensuring the safety of the young ones in our n. But today, I may have a solution to your problem, Volk."


    Volk, intrigued by the orc''s confident tone, turned to him. "What solution do you speak of?"


    Grashk nodded, as if he had been expecting the question.


    "At the end of this tunnel, there lies a special crystal, one that is a thousand times more valuable than the scattered crystals we''ve seen here and there. This crystal is no ordinary gem¡ªit is said to be infused with ancient magic, capable of swaying even the most stubborn elders. If you were to obtain it and offer it to the elders, they might reconsider taking your wife from you."


    Volk''s interest was piqued, but he remained cautious. "Might? They might reconsider?"


    Grashk met Volk''s gaze steadily.


    "Yes, might. It is not a guarantee, but it is better than nothing. The elders are bound by tradition and the will of the tribe, but they also respect power and sacrifice. Offering them something of such value could sway their decision."


    Volk considered the orc''s words.


    The idea of finding this crystal was appealing, but the uncertainty gnawed at him.


    Still, as Grashk had pointed out, it was better than doing nothing. He nodded slowly. "Very well. We''ll find this crystal."


    The group continued forward with renewed determination, the promise of the crystal driving them onward.


    The tunnel ahead seemed to stretch on endlessly, the darkness thickening around them as they delved deeper into the catbs.


    The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sounds of their footsteps and the asional drip of water from the ceiling.


    After what felt like hours of walking, Volk''s mind began to wander.


    The more he thought about the crystal, the more questions arose in his mind. Something didn''t quite add up.


    Finally, unable to shake the feeling that something was off, Volk broke the silence.


    "Why haven''t we seen any crystals around here?" he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet. "In all this time, we''vee across dead orcs and empty tunnels, but not a single crystal. Why is that?"


    The other orcs exchanged uneasy nces, hesitant to answer.


    Finally, Grashk spoke up, his voice carefully measured.


    "The other orc tribes came to this ce first. They''ve already taken the crystals from these tunnels. That''s why we haven''t seen any."


    Volk frowned, not entirely satisfied with the answer. "And why are we following the same path as those other tribes? Why not take a different tunnel, one they haven''t explored yet?"


    The orcs were silent for a moment, clearly ufortable with the direction the conversation was taking. Finally, one of the older orcs spoke up, his voice respectful but firm.


    "Because the other tunnels are more dangerous, Volk. There are beasts in those tunnels, unknown creatures that we''ve never encountered before. The dangers there are greater, and the risk of losing our lives is too high."


    Volk raised an eyebrow. "What kind of dangers?"


    The older orc hesitated before answering, clearly wary of spooking the group.


    "There are four dangerous tunnels, each with its own threats. Some say there are creatures there that are unlike anything we''ve faced before¡ªgiant, skinless beasts, swarms of venomous insects, and shadows that move of their own ord, not just the same monster that ismon inside this dungeon.


    And in one of the tunnels, there could be creatures that are said to be as powerful as a Level 5 Mag''Durotan. So it would be better to follow their paths¡­"


    The mention of a creature as powerful as a Mag''Durotan sent a ripple of unease through the group.


    Even Volk felt a chill run down his spine at the thought. But as he processed the information, another thought struck him, and he stopped in his tracks.


    The orcs behind him halted as well, looking at him in confusion.


    Volk turned to face them, his eyes narrowing in thought.


    "What happened to the creatures we were supposed to encounter in this tunnel? If there are beasts in those other tunnels, why haven''t we seen any here? The only thing we''vee across are the bodies of orcs from other tribes. Where are the monsters?"


    The orcs stared at Volk, suddenly a realization slowly dawning on them.


    Grok''Thar, who had been listening quietly, suddenly let out augh.


    "Of course! The monsters are scared of you, Volk! They''re avoiding us because of the hazardous magic particles in your body. They think you''re some kind of powerful beast!"


    The other orcs looked at Volk with wide eyes, the truth of Grok''Thar''s words settling in.


    If the creatures in this tunnel were avoiding them because of Volk, then there was no reason to fear the dangers of the other tunnels. With Volk leading them, they had nothing to worry about.


    One of the younger orcs, his face lighting up with excitement, pumped his fist in the air.


    "Then what are we waiting for? Let''s head to the other tunnels! If the leader''s presence is enough to scare off the monsters, we can gather all the crystals we want without any trouble!"


    The rest of the group quickly joined in, their earlier fear and hesitation reced by enthusiasm. They began to cheer, their voices echoing off the stone walls. "Volk! Volk! Volk!"


    Volk couldn''t help but smile at their enthusiasm. He hadn''t expected this oue, but it was clear that his presence was a powerful advantage.


    With renewed determination, he led the group back through the tunnel they hade from, heading toward one of the unexplored tunnels.


    As they entered the new tunnel, the air felt different. It was heavier, charged with an unseen energy. But the orcs didn''t falter.


    They pressed forward, their excitement growing with each step. And as they went deeper into the tunnel, their eyes began to catch the glimmer of something in the darkness.


    Crystals.


    The walls of the tunnel were studded with them, glowing faintly in the dim light.


    The orcs let out triumphant shouts, their hands reaching for the crystals and quickly filling their bags with the precious stones. It was a treasure trove beyond their wildest dreams.


    Volk watched with satisfaction as his warriors gathered the crystals, their earlier fears forgotten.


    The tunnel, which had seemed so foreboding at first, was now a source of great wealth. And all because the creatures that usually guarded these ces were too afraid to face him.


    The group moved through the tunnel like a well-oiled machine, gathering crystals with practiced efficiency.


    Their bags were soon bulging with the precious stones, and the mood among the orcs was jubnt.


    Theyughed and joked as they worked, their voices filled with the thrill of victory.


    "Can you believe it?" one of the orcs said, his voice full of awe. "We''ve filled our bags in no time! And it''s all thanks to Volk!"


    "Aye!" another orc agreed. "We''re lucky to have him as our leader. The beasts didn''t stand a chance!"


    "We''re going to be rich!" a third orc eximed, holding up a particrlyrge crystal with a grin.


    The mood was infectious, and soon the entire group was celebrating their good fortune.


    They pped each other on the back, theirughter ringing out through the tunnel.


    Volk couldn''t help but feel a sense of pride. He had led them to this victory, and their sess was undeniable.


    But just as the group''s celebration reached its peak, a sound cut through the air¡ªfaint at first, but growing louder with each passing moment.


    The orcs fell silent, theirughter dying on their lips as they strained to listen.


    It was the sound of battle.


    The shing of weapons, the shouts of warriors, and the roars of something inhuman.


    The orcs exchanged uneasy nces, their earlier joy reced by a growing sense of unease.


    Volk''s hand tightened around the hilt of his weapon as he listened to the sounds of the distant fight.


    Whatever was happening up ahead, it was something they couldn''t ignore.


    The celebration was over.


    It was time to face whatever it is.

 Chapter 40: Some Orc Rules

    "What''s happening up there?" Volk demanded, with a low growl.


    One of the orcs, a younger warrior with a deep scar running down his cheek, answered, "A battle, Leader. It sounds like a fight between another n and... something else."


    Volk''s eyes narrowed. "Should we interfere?"


    The orcs exchanged uneasy nces.


    Another orc, this one seemed older and more experienced due to his beard, stepped forward to exin.


    "Let''s, it''s forbidden to interfere with the business of other ns, whether they are in need of help or not. To do so would be seen as a challenge to their strength and their honor."


    The orc''s voice was steady, but there was a tension beneath it, a tension that carried the weight of ancient traditions and unspokenws.


    "In the catbs, every n must fight its own battles. If we were to interfere, it would be seen as an insult, a sign that we think them too weak to handle their own affairs. And in our world, an insult like that is answered with blood."


    Another orc added, his tone grim, "If we step in now, they might challenge us once we''re back at the tribe. Blood feuds could be sparked, alliances shattered. It''s not just about the fight in front of us, Volk. It''s about the bnce of power between the ns, the respect we must show each other even in this ce."


    Volk listened, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.


    He understood the rules, the unspoken agreements that kept the fragile peace between the ns.


    But the thought of standing idle while a battle raged nearby felt like something was eating his intestine. He was a warrior, bred for the heat ofbat, not for the cold calctions of politics.


    "So we just wait here? Like a kid waiting for their parents permission?" Volk''s voice was sharp, tinged with frustration. He would remember when he was used to that, he hated it.


    Plus, he needed to check out something.


    The older orc nodded solemnly. "Yes, we wait. It''s the only way to avoid unnecessary conflict. We don''t want to make enemies when we''ve already got enough to deal with in these catbs."


    Volk shook his head, his jaw set in a hard line.


    "That can''t be done. I''m not going to stand here and wait, I will pass through them if they want."


    He could feel the bloodlust rising in him, the urge to charge into the fray and smash his enemies into the ground.


    Another orc, sensing Volk''s growing frustration, stepped forward. "Volk, if we interfere, it could lead to a war between the younger generation of our ns. We need to think about what''s best for our people, not just our pride."


    But Volk was already moving, his feet carrying him forward before he could even think. "It doesn''t matter," he said, his voice low and determined. "I''ll smash them all, no matter who stands in my way."


    The orcs behind him exchanged looks of shock and disbelief.


    They had seen Volk in battle before, knew his strength, but this was different. He was defying the rules, challenging the very foundations of their society.


    Yet, as they watched Volk''s determined stride, a few of them felt a thrill of excitement.


    They had followed Volk this far, trusted his instincts and his power. And now, as he led them toward the sounds of battle, they couldn''t help but feel a surge of pride.


    "Let''s go!" one of the younger orcs shouted, his voice filled with adrenaline.


    The others hesitated for only a moment before following.


    They fell in behind Volk, their weapons at the ready, their minds focused on theing fight.


    Whatever happened next, they knew they would follow Volk to the end, after all, he is now their leader.


    As they emerged into a wider cavern, the sight that greeted them was one of chaos and violence.


    The Bloodfang n, known for their fierce warriors and unyielding spirit, was locked in a brutal struggle with a pack of massive, snarling dogs.


    These beasts were like nothing Volk had ever seen before¡ªmuscr and powerful, with the build of a pit bull but standing nearly as tall as the orcs themselves.


    Their eyes glowed with a savage intelligence, and their jaws snapped at anything that moved, teeth shing like daggers in the dim light.


    The Bloodfang orcs fought valiantly, their axes and swords cleaving through the air with deadly precision.


    They moved with the fluidity of seasoned warriors, their bodies hardened by countless battles. But despite their skill, the dogs were relentless, their strength seemingly inexhaustible.


    One Bloodfang orc, a massive figure with war paint smeared across his face, let out a furious roar as he buried his ax into the side of a dog, only for another to leap at him from behind.


    The orc twisted just in time, shing the beast''s throat open, but the bloodied warrior staggered, barely able to keep his footing.


    The battle raged on, the cavern echoing with the sounds of snarling, the sh of steel, and the cries of wounded orcs. But then, something changed.


    The dogs, those ferocious beasts, suddenly froze mid-attack.


    Their snarls ceased, their ears perked up, and their glowing eyes shifted to a single point in the cavern.


    The Bloodfang orcs, panting and bloodied, paused in confusion. They followed the gaze of the dogs, and their eyes widened in shock.


    The entire pack of monstrous hounds, just moments ago on the verge of overwhelming the Bloodfang warriors, was now retreating, their tails tucked between their legs, their whimpers echoing off the cavern walls.


    "Wh-what''s going on?" one of the Bloodfang orcs muttered, wiping blood from his brow as he stared in disbelief.


    The answer came soon enough as a line of orcs emerged from the darkness, their silhouettes gradually bing clearer. It was the Dreadmaw n, led by Volk at the forefront, walking in a straight, unbroken line.


    The sight was imposing, and somehow, they could feel their presence sending a shiver down the spines of the Bloodfang warriors.


    "How...?" another Bloodfang orc began, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and fear. "How did the Dreadmaw n get here? They were thest to enter the catbs. How are they here, overtaking everyone?"


    The dogs, now fully aware of the approaching Dreadmaw orcs, let out high-pitched whines, the sound of their fear clear as day.


    They scrambled over each other, their once mighty forms reduced to cowering beasts as they fled into the darkness, their retreat a stark contrast to the dominance they had shown just moments before.


    The Bloodfang orcs were left standing in stunned silence, their eyes wide as they watched the spectacle.


    The enemy that had nearly driven them to the brink of defeat was now fleeing, not from their des, but from the presence of Volk and his warriors.


    "They''re scared... of them?" one of the Bloodfang orcs whispered, disbelief coloring his tone.


    But as they stood there, trying to process what they were seeing, memories surfaced in their minds. Stories, whispers of rumors, about the Dreadmaw n''s strange new leader, an orc who was not like the others.


    An orc whose body was riddled with hazardous magic particles, making him a terror to any who crossed his path.


    Before the Bloodfang warriors could fully grasp the situation, one of them, unable to contain his shock any longer, let out a shout.


    "Hey!!"


    His voice echoed through the cavern, a mixture of anger and confusion.


    The rest of the Bloodfang n turned their attention fully to the approaching Dreadmaw orcs, their weapons still gripped tightly in their hands, unsure whether to prepare for a fight or to thank the gods for their unexpected saviors.


    Volk, his eyes scanning the battlefield, met the gaze of the Bloodfang leader.


    There was a moment of silence between them, an unspoken understanding passing through the air.


    The Dreadmaw orcs came to a stop, their formation solid and unmoving, as if waiting for some sign or signal from Volk.


    The Bloodfang leader, his chest heaving from the exertion of battle, took a cautious step forward. "Dreadmaw n," he called out, his voice carrying across the cavern.


    "Why are you all here? What do you want? Why do you all interfere? Do you all have any idea what you are doing?"


    Volk, his expression unreadable, simply raised his head slightly, his eyes flickering with a cold, determined light. "I heard the sounds of battle," he replied, his voice steady. "And I don''t stand by when I can pass through this easily."


    The Bloodfang leader''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    He knew the rules of the ns, knew the implications of Volk''s presence here. But he also knew that without the Dreadmaw orcs'' sudden appearance, the battle might have ended very differently for his n.


    "Your timing is... fortunate," the Bloodfang leader said carefully, his voice still tinged with caution.


    Volk didn''t respond immediately.


    Instead, he let his gaze sweep across the battlefield, taking in the wounded orcs, the blood-stained ground, and the retreating forms of the hounds.


    He could feel the weight of tradition and expectation pressing down on him, but his instincts, as if honed through countless battles of his ancestors, told him something different.


    "I''m not here to challenge you," Volk said finally, his voice firm. "But I won''t stand by and do nothing at the side like a child waiting for his ration. If you see this as a challenge, so be it. I''m ready."

 Chapter 41: Final Dungeon Boss Altar

    The silence that followed Volk''s words was heavy with unspoken tension.


    The Bloodfang leader, a seasoned warrior with countless battles etched into his memory, locked eyes with Volk.


    He could sense the raw power emanating from the unknown Dreadmaw orc, a pressure he couldn''tprehend.


    There was something more, something ancient and terrible that lurked beneath Volk''s calm exterior.


    Yet, to the surprise of his own warriors, the Bloodfang leader did not respond with the expected fury or challenge. Instead, he remained silent, his gaze piercing but contemtive.


    Volk, noting theck of response, allowed a small, knowing smile to touch his lips.


    "It would be unsatisfactory to beat you all here and now," Volk said, his voice low but carrying the weight of his conviction. "You''ve just fought a battle, and I would gain little from defeating tired warriors."


    Without waiting for a reply, Volk turned on his heel and began to walk away, and his steps were measured and unhurried.


    As he moved, he added over his shoulder, "If you really want to find me, once all of you are healed, I am Volk Mog''ger, the heir of Kazrogal. Come to my Dreadmaw n, and I will ept all your challenges."


    Those words were like a gauntlet thrown down at the Bloodfang orcs, a promise of future reckoning that left the Bloodfang warriors in a stunned silence.


    Because of this, they could only watch as Volk and his orcs disappeared into the shadows, with their forms gradually blending into the darkness of the catbs.


    As thest of the Dreadmaw orcs vanished from sight, one of the Bloodfang warriors stepped forward, with furrowed brow in confusion and frustration. "Leader, why didn''t you ept his challenge? We''re the Bloodfang! We don''t back down from anyone!"


    The Bloodfang leader, still gazing in the direction Volk had gone, let out a slow breath.


    His eyes narrowed thoughtfully before he turned to face his warrior. "We need to heal first," he said, his tone calm and measured. "We''ve just fought a fierce battle, and our strength is not at its peak."


    "But leader¡ª" the warrior began, but the leader held up a hand to silence him.


    "Volk was right," the Bloodfang leader continued, his voice tinged with a grudging respect.


    "He could see that defeating us now would bring him no satisfaction. The desire to battle wasn''t in his eyes. There was something more, something... different. He would have felt it was an unsatisfactory victory, even if he won."


    The warrior frowned, still struggling to understand. "But we could have¡ª"


    "No," the leader cut him off, his voice firm. "Remember this, all of you. Remember his name: Volk Mog''ger, the Beast Nemesis. We will remember him, and when the timees, we will face him. But not now."


    The Bloodfang leader''s gaze swept over his warriors, the fierce determination in his eyes unmistakable.


    "For now, heal your wounds and prepare for the next battle. We''ll need our full strength to face whatever lies ahead."


    As his warriors dispersed to tend to their injuries, the Bloodfang leader stood alone for a moment longer, his thoughts still lingering on the Dreadmaw leader Volk.


    The name "Mog''ger" echoed in his mind, resonating with a sense of foreboding and challenge. He knew there was something in him why, even as a stage three Mag''Durotan, he was their leader.


    However, he also knew that this encounter was only the beginning, and that they wood cross their paths once gone.


    However, the Bloodfangs were no strangers to peril, and they would be ready when the time came.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, deep within thebyrinthine tunnels of the catbs, Volk led his orcs forward with a steady pace.


    The darkness pressed in around them, but Volk''s eyes remained fixed on the path ahead, with his thoughts now far from the recent encounter.


    The orcs behind him were in awe.


    They knew the Bloodfangs¡ªfierce, unyielding, and among the most formidable of all the orc tribes.


    To see their leader back down, even momentarily, was nothing short of astonishing.


    It was clear to them now that Volk was a force to be reckoned with, a leader whose mere presence could turn the tide of a battle.


    Grashk, acting as if he was one of Volk''s most trusted lieutenants, walked beside him, with his mind thinking of the implications of what had just transpired.


    The respect he felt for Volk had grown even deeper, but there was also a sense of curiosity gnawing at him.


    "Tell me, Grashk," Volk''s voice broke through the silence, his tone thoughtful. "Are there any serious threats protecting the special crystal you spoke of?"


    Grashk nodded, his expression grave. "Yes, leader. The crystal is said to be guarded by the dungeon boss¡ªa creature of immense power,pared to these scared dungeon monsters in your presence. But maybe, leader, the dungeon boss would also be scared of you, graha!"


    Volk''s eyes flickered with interest. "I see."


    There was a brief pause as Volk considered this information.


    He could feel the tension in his muscles easing slightly, he asked this because of desperation, desperate to test something¡ªto push the limits of his abilities and see just what his new form, the Radioactive form, was truly capable of.


    He wanted to know the difference between his Radioactive form and the Grum-gar orc form.


    Anotherinh thing¡­


    The Nuclear Devastation ps, a technique he wanted to understand.


    So, he was getting itchy, he desired for battle and needed to test all of these against the strongest opponents he could find.


    But now, with the promise of a confrontation with the dungeon boss looming on the horizon, Volk felt a sense of rity settling over him.


    The answers he sought were within reach, and he knew that once he had them, he would be unstoppable.


    Even the elders of his tribe, who had long held the reins of power, would not be able to stand against him.


    The journey through the catbs continued, the oppressive darkness surrounding them like a shroud.


    The tunnels twisted and turned, the air growing colder and thicker with every step.


    As they traveled deeper, the orcs encountered strange and fearsome creatures¡ªhumanoid dogs with fierce, glowing eyes, their bodies were twisted and warped by the dark magic that permeated the catbs.


    These beasts were fierce, their growls low and menacing as they emerged from the shadows, but as soon as they caught sight of Volk and his orcs, something would change.


    The hostility in their eyes would, reced by a flicker of fear.


    The humanoid dogs would immediately hackles as they backed away, it was as if their instinct for survival were overriding their aggression.


    Volk barely spared them a nce, with an unbroken focus as he led his orcs forward.


    Finally, after what felt like hours of traversing the winding tunnels, they reached the end of the path.


    The tunnel opened up into a massive cavern, its walls lined with jagged rocks and glowing crystals that cast an eerie, pale light across the space.


    The air was thick with an oppressive feeling, a sense of foreboding that made the orcs pause at the entrance.


    Volk stepped forward and took sight of the cave.


    The cavern was vast, its ceiling lost in the darkness above, and at its center stood a massive structure¡ªan ancient altar, carved from ck stone and surrounded by swirling mists of dark energy.


    The oppressive feeling in the air grew stronger as they approached, the very ground beneath their feet seeming to hum with power.


    Volk could feel it¡ªan ancient, malevolent presence that radiated from the altar, a presence that promised both great danger and great reward.


    "This is it," Volk murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "The end of the tunnel."


    The orcs behind him remained silent, but all their eyes were fixed on the altar.


    They could feel it too¡ªthe presence that awaited them, the dungeon boss that guarded the crystal they sought was near.


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest, not with fear, but with anticipation.


    This was the moment he had been waiting for¡ªthe chance to test his abilities.


    He could feel the power surging within him, the radioactive energy that pulsed through his veins, ready to be unleashed.


    With a final, determined breath, Volk stepped forward, with his eyes locking on the altar.

 Chapter 42: Hordes Decision

    As Volk stood before the massive cavern, an oppressive energy pulsing in the air, he prepared himself for the challenge ahead.


    His thoughts were focused, his senses heightened, every fiber of his being attuned to the task at hand.


    However, just as he took a step forward, ready to confront whatevery hiding in the darkness, he felt a hand on his shoulder.


    "Volk, wait," one of the orcs behind him called out, his voiceced with hesitation.


    Volk halted, turning to face hisrades.


    The sight that greeted him was unexpected¡ªexpressions of uncertainty, fear, and doubt written across their faces.


    It was a look Volk recognized all too well, a look that stirred memories from a life he had long since left behind.


    He remembered being confined to a wheelchair, yearning to do things others took for granted, but being held back by his own limitations.


    It was a look of someone wanting to speak, but unsure if they should.


    "I am your leader," Volk began, his voice firm yet gentle. "You''re all my responsibility. What is it?"


    The orc who had stopped him hesitated, ncing at hisrades before speaking.


    "We''ve been thinking... Maybe we should go back and apologize to the Bloodfang n for what we did. We don''t want enmity with them, Volk. They''re one of the strongest ns, and... and we''re just hunters, not warriors."


    The words hung in the air like a stone dropped into a still pond, the ripples of their meaning spreading through the group.


    Before Volk could respond, Lhum''Baggar, a fierce warrior with a fiery temper, stepped forward and shoved the orc who had spoken, nearly knocking him off his feet.


    "Are you out of your mind?" Lhum''Baggar roared, his voice echoing through the cavern. "That''s the talk of a coward! A weakling! You''d rather grovel at the feet of the Bloodfang than stand tall as an orc? Have you forgotten what it means to be one of us? We are the Dreadmaw!


    We do not bow! We do not apologize! To show weakness like this is the most shameful thing an orc can do!"


    Lhum''Baggar''s outburst sent a shockwave through the group, the raw fury in his voice silencing all but the bravest among them.


    The orc he had pushed was quickly helped to his feet by hisrades, who red back at Lhum''Baggar with defiance in their eyes.


    "We''re not all like you, Lhum''Baggar!"


    One of them shouted back, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.


    "Not all of us were raised by a warrior father who taught us weapon-handling from the time we could walk! Your father had a name, a reputation! Our fathers were not warriors¡ªthey were hunters, farmers, craftsmen! We were never meant to be bloodseekers like you!"


    Another orc joined in, his voice rising in support of his friend.


    "We''ve followed you this far because we believed in you, but we never asked for this! We don''t want to die here, in some godforsaken dungeon, just because you''re too proud to admit when you''re wrong! We don''t want to make enemies we can''t afford to have!"


    The argument escted quickly, the group dividing into those who supported Lhum''Baggar and those who sided with the hesitant orcs.


    Grashk and Grok''Thar, both seemed loyal to Lhum''Baggar, stepped forward to back him up, their voices joining the fray.


    "Lhum''Baggar''s right!"


    Grashk shouted.


    "We''vee this far because we''re orcs, and orcs don''t back down! We don''t show weakness to anyone, especially not the Bloodfang! If we go back now, we might as well be dead already!"


    Grok''Thar nodded in agreement, his voice booming through the cavern.


    "This is a test! A trial to prove ourselves! If we turn back now, we''ll never be more than hunters and farmers! We''ll never earn the respect of the n, never be seen as true warriors!"


    The shouting grew louder, the tension within the group mounting as each side refused to back down.


    It was a scene Volk had seen before, in a different life¡ªa life where he had been a helpless observer to the arguments of his cousins, sisters, and brothers, each of them quarrelling over what was best for him, for the one who could not help himself.


    In that past life, Volk had hated being a burden, hated being the cause of strife and division among those he loved.


    He had vowed that in this new life, he would never be the source of such conflict again.


    He would not be a burden to those who followed him. However now, he realized, the conflict was inevitable.


    He could not avoid it by remaining silent.


    "Wait," Volk said, trying to regain control, but his voice was drowned out by the continued shouting.


    The argument raged on, neither side willing to give ground.


    Lhum''Baggar''s supporters used the others of cowardice and betrayal, while the hesitant orcs defended their right to choose their own path, to survive rather than be sacrificed on the altar of pride.


    "ENOUUUUUGH!!!"


    Volk''s voice cut through the noise like a de, echoing off the cavern walls with a force that demanded silence.


    The orcs stopped, turning to face their leader, their expressions a mix of shock and shame.


    The sheer power in Volk''s voice was enough to remind them of who led this group, of the respect they owed him.


    Volk took a deep breath, steadying himself before he spoke. "I am not a warrior," he began, his voice low but filled with the weight of his confession.


    "I am a Labor Orc. We are said to only strengthen ourselves in the second form once we''re in the Grum-gar form, and even then, only one percent of us or one of my offsprings of one hundred percent, will ever awaken to that form. And because of that, when I return to the n, my current partner will be taken from me."


    His words hung in the air, heavy with the truth of his situation.


    The orcs looked at him, their anger and fear momentarily forgotten as they absorbed the reality of what Volk was saying.


    "But I won''t just ept that," Volk continued, his voice growing louder, more resolute.


    "I, Volk Mog''ger, refuse to be constrained by what others think I should be! I refuse to let them take what is mine without a fight! I want to know how strong I really am, even if it means facing death! I won''t stand idle while my fate is decided by others!"


    He looked each of them in the eye, his gaze unwavering.


    "I know it sounds crazy. I know what I''m asking is more than what most would consider reasonable. But that''s who I am. I won''t care if I offend the Bloodfang n, or even if I offend every single one of you. I am done living by the expectations of others."


    Volk''s words resonated in the hearts of hisrades, their earlier fears and doubts now overshadowed by a deep, growing respect for their leader. He hadid bare his soul before them, revealed his vulnerabilities, and in doing so, had shown them the strength of his conviction.


    "You can decide," Volk said, his voice softening. "Go back if you want. I won''t me you. But I''m going forward. I have to."


    The orcs stood in silence, their minds racing as they processed everything Volk had said.


    They saw in him not just a leader, but a fellow orc who was willing to fight for his ce in the world, to challenge the fate that others had tried to impose on him.


    They saw a reflection of their own struggles, their own fears, and their own desires for something more.


    One by one, they began to nod, their earlier hesitation giving way to a steely resolve.


    Lhum''Baggar, Grashk, Grok''Thar, and even the orcs who had been most afraid, all found themselves moved by Volk''s words.


    They realized that in following Volk, they weren''t just following a leader¡ªthey were following an idea, a belief that they could be more than what they were told to be.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the hesitant orcs stepped forward. "We''lle with you, Volk," he said, his voice steady. "We won''t let you fight this alone."


    The others nodded in agreement, their expressions firm.


    They had made their choice.


    Volk felt a swell of emotion in his chest¡ªpride, gratitude, and a fierce determination that burned brighter than ever. He had faced his fears, his doubts, and hade out stronger. And now, with hisrades by his side, he knew that they could face whatevery ahead.


    There was a long pause as they all looked at one another, the bond between them stronger than it had ever been.


    Then, with one voice, they roared the words that had be their rallying cry, the words that signified their unity, their resolve, and their defiance in the face of any challenge.


    "Lok''tar Ogar!"


    The cavern walls shook with the force of their cry, the sound echoing into the depths of the darkness thaty ahead.


    "Lok''tar Ogar!" "Lok''tar Ogar!" "Lok''tar Ogar!"


    Together, they would face whatever waited for them, knowing that they were not just orcs, but warriors¡ªwarriors who had chosen their own path, and who would fight for their right to walk it.


    "LOK''TAR OGAR!!!"


    And with that, they turned as one, following Volk as he led them forward into the unknown


    With the expression written on their faces, one could see their hearts must be filled with a renewed sense of purpose and a fire that nothing could extinguish.

 Chapter 43: Three headed dog, Dozer

    The triumphant cries of "Lok''tar Ogar!" had barely faded when an eerie, bone-chillingughter echoed through the cavern, reverberating off the dark, jagged walls.


    "Kekekekeke¡­"


    The orcs froze, their jubtion cut short as the sinister sound filled the space, setting their nerves on an immediate edge.


    Theughter was high-pitched, almost mocking, and it sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest among them.


    "Kekekekeke¡­"


    Volk''s eyes narrowed as he instinctively raised his Axe of Dissection, his body tense and ready for any sudden action.


    The other orcs followed suit, their hands tightening around their weapons, their eyes scanning the darkness before them.


    The sound came from deep within the shadows, where even their keen orcish vision could not prate.


    Then, from the depths of the darkness, a pair of glowing red eyes appeared.


    The eyes wererge, blood-red, and menacing, staring at them with an unsettling intelligence.


    A growl rumbled through the cavern, low and ominous, vibrating through the ground beneath their feet.


    Before they could react, another pair of eyes appeared, then another, until five glowing red eyes stared back at them from the void.


    The orcs took an involuntary step back, their hearts pounding.


    Whatever creature lurked within that darkness, it was no ordinary beast.


    The air was thick with an oppressive energy, and a sense of dread began to creep into their minds.


    "Kekeke¡­ An orc with good leadership," the voice sneered from the darkness, dripping with malevolence.


    "But it''s a pity. Your body is so full of hazardous magic particles, you''re useless to me. But you''reughable. Do you really think you can make your dreamse true?"


    The voice was taunting, cruel, and as it spoke, the shape of a massive beast began to emerge from the shadows.


    The ground shook with each step it took, sending small rocks tumbling from the cavern walls.


    As the creature stepped into the dim light of the cavern, its full form was revealed¡ªa monstrous, three-headed dog, with a muscr body covered in brown fur that gleamed like polished leather.


    Each of its three heads bore a pair of those malevolent red eyes, glowing with a hunger that could never be sated.


    The beast was immense, towering over the orcs, its sheer size dwarfing them.


    Its body was rippling with muscle, every movement causing the ground beneath it to rumble as if the earth itself feared its presence.


    The three heads snapped at the air, one could see their massive jaws lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth that gleamed in the dim light.


    Drool dripped from its maws, sizzling as it hit the ground, burning holes into the stone.


    Volk and the others stared in stunned silence, their hearts racing.


    This was no ordinary beast; it was a monster born of nightmares, a force of nature in its own right.


    The orcs'' confidence wavered as they took in the sight before them, and a deep sense of dread settled in their chests.


    Suddenly, one of the orcs noticed something in one of the beast''s mouths¡ªa limp figure, barely recognizable through the blood and gore.


    The orc''s breath caught in his throat as he realized who it was.


    "That¡­ that''s a Shadoww orc¡­" he mumbled, his voice trembling with fear.


    The orc''s green skin was barely visible beneath the blood and wounds, and his once-proud ck leather uniform, adorned with animal ws as a symbol of his n, was torn to shreds.


    His lifeless body hung from the beast''s jaw, as if his fate were now sealed in the beast''s maw.


    The sight sent a shockwave through the group.


    The Shadoww n was known for their cunning and stealth, their members some of the most feared assassins among the orcish tribes.


    If one of their own had fallen so easily to this beast, what hope did they have?


    The voiceughed again, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed in their minds.


    "This is Dozer, a distant rtive of the legendary Cerberus. He''s really hungry, and his favorite meal is rare Hornless orcs. He only needs seventy heads to reach his full rampage mode, but he doesn''t mind starting with a few now. After all, who can resist a te of food delivered right to him?"


    The orcs looked around frantically, trying to locate the source of the voice, but the darkness was imprable, and no figure revealed itself.


    The voice seemed toe from everywhere and nowhere all at once, wrapping around them like a suffocating shroud.


    Volk''s grip tightened on his axe.


    | Ding!


    | Mission triggered.


    | Defeat the foe with your tribe!


    | Anything works!


    | Failure: Random removal of one of your Elemental Nuclear Strikes.


    | Rewards: Unknown normal ability in your Hornless Orc state. |


    He was surprised with the system mission, but he could feel the fear spreading through hisrades, their resolve wavering in the face of this monstrous foe.


    However, Volk knew they couldn''t afford to hesitate now, or the mission would fail.


    With a deep breath, he raised his Axe of Dissection high and roared, "Lok''tar Ogar!!!"


    His voice cut through the fear, and the other orcs, rallying behind their leader, lifted their weapons and echoed the battle cry.


    They had no choice but to fight.


    Retreat was impossible with the beasts behind them, and the only way out was through this creature.


    With a surge of destructive green adrenaline, Volk charged forward, with a gleaning axe as he aimed for the beast''s massive body.


    The ground shook with his steps, but the beast did not flinch.


    It watched him with all six eyes, its heads cocked as if amused by the tiny figure charging towards it.


    The size difference was staggering.


    Dozer was four timesrger than Volk, each of its heads as big as an orc.


    As Volk closed in, the beast let out a deafening roar that shook the very walls of the cavern.


    "ROOOOAAARRRR!!!!"


    The sound was like thunder, a deep, guttural noise that seemed toe from the depths of the earth itself.


    Volk was undeterred.


    With a fierce cry, "HAAAAAA!!" he swung his axe at the nearest head, aiming for its throat. But Dozer was faster.


    In a blur of motion, one of its heads snapped towards Volk with terrifying speed.


    Swoosh!


    Before Volk could react, the massive head struck him with the force of a battering ram, sending him flying through the air.


    Bang!


    His body mmed into the side of the cavern wall with a sickening crunch, the impact so powerful that it left a deep crater in the stone.


    For a moment, everything went silent.


    The orcs watched in horror as their leadery crumpled on the ground, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. The voiceughed again, cold and mocking.


    "Dozer doesn''t need an overly hazardous orc. You''re no use to him, little hazard Orc. Dozer''s hazard is different from yours¡­"


    The beast roared again, "ROOOAAARRRRR!!" its three heads snapping at the air, each movement filled with raw, destructive power.


    The orcs were frozen, their courage draining away as the reality of their situation sank in.


    They were facing a monster, a creature of pure carnage that could tear them apart with a single bite.


    They nced at each other, and they could see fear and uncertainty in their eyes.


    Some of them were already thinking of retreating, of running for their lives, but the beasts that lurked behind them made it clear there was no escape. After all, Volk was the only reason those beasts were scared.


    They were trapped, surrounded on all sides by death itself.


    On the other hand, Volk stirred, his body aching from the impact, but his resolve remained unbroken.


    He could see the fear in hisrades'' eyes, he knew those were doubts that threatened to overwhelm them. But he would not let them fall to despair.


    With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet, even if his muscles were screaming in protest.


    "Lok''tar Ogar!" he roared again, his voice hoarse but filled with determination.


    The words were amand, a reminder of who they were and what they fought for.


    The other orcs hesitated, but seeing their leader stand once more, bloodied but unbowed, they found the courage within themselves to fight.


    One by one, they raised their weapons, their voices joining Volk''s in the battle cry.


    "Lok''tar Ogaaaaaar!!!"


    They knew the odds were against them, that death was likely, but they would not go down without a fight.


    They would face this beast, and they would give everything they had.


    "Lok''tar Ogaaaaaaar!!!" they shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the cavern, filling the darkness with the sound of their defiance.

 Chapter 44: Three headed dog beatdown

    The cavern walls trembled as the echoes of the battle cry, "Lok''tar Ogaaaaaaaaaar!" reverberated through the air.


    The orcs, their hearts filled with determination, were ready to face the monstrous three-headed beast, Dozer. But the fight had only just begun.


    Volk barely had time to regain his footing after thest blow before Dozer, with its immense speed and power, surged forward once again.


    One of its massive heads,rger than an orc''s entire body, snapped towards Volk with the force of a battering ram.


    "Kabang!"


    Volk was mmed into the cavern wall again, the impact shaking the entire chamber.


    His vision blurred as pain shot through his body, but before he could even groan, a system notification shed before his eyes.


    | Ding!


    | Would you like to use the Radioactive Form? |


    For a brief moment, Volk considered it. His heart pounded as he remembered the power he had unlocked within him, the form that could amplify his strength beyond imagination. But just as he was about to activate it, he caught sight of something that made him pause.


    One of the orcs, a broad-shouldered warrior with a fierce expression, had lunged forward while Volk was recovering.


    With a mighty swing of his hammer, he brought it crashing down on one of Dozer''s heads.


    "KABANG!"


    The hammer struck with incredible force, and to Volk''s amazement, the beast recoiled.


    A shocked silence fell over the orcs for a split second.


    The monster had been hurt¡ªactually hurt!


    Volk had assumed the beast was too powerful, too overwhelming to be harmed by conventional weapons. Yet, here it was, staggering back from the blow.


    "It''s¡­weak!" Volk shouted, his voice tinged with both surprise and exhration. "Just avoid its headbutts! Overall, it''s weak!"


    The orcs, who had been bracing themselves for the worst, took heart at Volk''s words.


    Their eyes lit up with a renewed fervor.


    If the beast could be hurt, then it could be defeated.


    With a roar, the orcs crowded forward again, weapons raised high, ready to m all their might.


    Volk, still clutching his axe, barked out orders as he joined them in the charge.


    "Wait for its heads to swing down, then strike! Time your blows to hit the necks, right below the jaws! Don''t attack all at once¡ªhit it, then fall back! We need to tire it out, make it bleed!"


    The orcs responded with ferocity, each of them throwing their entire weight behind their attacks.


    The cavern echoed with the sounds of battle¡ªaxes cleaving through air, hammers crashing against bone, and the guttural growls of the beast.


    Dozer, realizing it was under attack from all sides,shed out in fury.


    Its three heads moved with blinding speed, snapping and snarling, each bite capable of crushing an orc''s body in an instant.


    The ground trembled beneath its weight as it lunged and stomped, trying to scatter the orcs like ants. But Volk''smand held the orcs together, their movements now coordinated, their attacks precise.


    "Dodge to the left!" Volk shouted, and the orcs narrowly avoided a crushing headbutt from one of the beast''s massive skulls. "Now, swing at the jaw¡ªhit it hard!"


    Another orc, wielding a spiked club, swung with all his might, connecting with one of the beast''s jaws.


    The force of the blow sent a shockwave through the beast''s body, causing it to stagger once more.


    "Good! Now fall back¡ªdon''t let it corner you! Keep moving!"


    The orcs followed Volk''s lead, their attacksing in waves.


    They moved in and out, striking and then retreating, always keeping just out of reach of Dozer''s snapping jaws.


    They were like a swarm of wasps, stinging from all sides, never staying still long enough for the beast tond a killing blow.


    But as the battle dragged on, the mysterious voice returned, its tone nowced with panic. "Crush them, Dozer! Crush them all, especially that hazardous orc! Kill him first!"


    The voice was relentless, urging Dozer to focus its wrath on Volk.


    The beast seemed to respond to themands, its heads snapping towards Volk with renewed fury. But Volk was ready.


    "Shield wall!" he bellowed, and the orcs with shields immediately formed a barrier in front of him, blocking the beast''s advance.


    The force of Dozer''s charge sent the orcs sliding back, but they held firm, with their shields braced against the ground.


    "Now, strike its legs!"


    Volk ordered, and the orcs who weren''t holding shields darted forward, hacking at the beast''s legs with their axes and swords.


    Dozer howled in pain, its movements bing seemingly more erratic as it tried to shake them off.


    "Retreat!"


    Volk called, and the orcs fell back just as one of Dozer''s heads swung down, missing them by inches.


    The beast roared in frustration, they could its red eyes glowing with an almost demonic fury.


    However, Volk was not focused on that, they could see the strain in the beast''s movements now.


    It was slowing down, its attacks bing less coordinated.


    The wounds the orcs had inflicted were beginning to take their toll, it''s obvious with its blood flowing freely from gashes in its legs and necks.


    "We''ve got it on the ropes!" Volk shouted. "Keep pressing the attack! We''re wearing it down!"


    The orcs redoubled their efforts, their spirits lifted by the sight of the beast faltering.


    They moved with renewed energy, their strikes more precise, their coordination more fluid.


    Each time Dozer tried to retaliate, they were already out of reach, preparing for the next attack.


    But the voice in the darkness would not let up. "Dozer, you fool! Kill them! Kill the hazardous one! He''s the most dangerous of them all!"


    Dozer roared in response, but its movements were sluggish now, its three heads moving with less ferocity.


    The orcs could see it¡ªthis beast, for all its terrifying power, was just as vulnerable to pain and fatigue as any other creature.


    Volk, sensing the end was near, gave the finalmand. "Everyone, prepare for the final strike! On my signal, we attack together!"


    The orcs gathered their strength, their muscles burning with exhaustion but their resolve unbroken.


    They watched as Volk raised his axe, waiting for the moment.


    "Now! Lok''tar Ogaaaaaaaaaar!"


    The orcs charged as one, their weapons gleaming in the dim light.


    Dozer, too slow to react, tried to snap at them with its jaws, but the orcs were too fast.


    They struck with all their might, their weapons biting deep into the beast''s flesh.


    The impact was devastating.


    With a final, pitiful howl, "ahoooooooorrgghhh!!" Dozer''s massive body crashed to the ground, the life draining from its three heads.


    Dab! Dab! Dab!


    The ground shook with the force of its fall, sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air.


    The orcs stood victorious, their breaths heavy, their bodies aching. But they had done it. The beast was dead.


    Volk, however, felt no satisfaction. He stood over the fallen beast, his axe still gripped tightly in his hand.


    The battle had been hard-fought, but something gnawed at him.


    He hadn''t used his Radioactive Form.


    He hadn''t even tested the limits of his new powers.


    How could he gauge his true strength if he hadn''t been pushed to his limits?


    As he pondered this, the voice from the darkness returned, now filled with venomous rage.


    "You may have defeated Dozer, but you''re still nothing but a hazardous orc! You''ll never achieve your dreams! Dozer should have killed you first, you cursed freak!"


    The voice echoed through the cavern, a bitter reminder that their victory, while significant, was only the beginning.


    Volk''s grip on his axe tightened as he looked into the shadows where the voice hade from.


    Whoever this unseen enemy was, they would not rest until Volk was dead.


    But Volk was not afraid. He turned to hisrades, who were now gathering around him, he could see their eyes filled with a mix of relief and admiration.


    He nodded to them, but his focus was not on them.


    | Ding!


    | Missionpleted.


    | Rewards: Radioactive Sidestep!


    | The host can now move three meters instantly in a direction that the host desires.


    | Cooldown: four seconds.


    | Radioactive botanical mana: 5 / 100. |


    For now, the battle was won, and he got a random ability reward, but somehow, Volk had a foreboding feeling that the true test of his strength has yet toe.

 Chapter 45: Dozer: Version 2

    The battle was over, or so they thought. The monstrous three-headed beast, Dozer,y lifeless on the ground, its massive form slowly losing the heat of life.


    The orcs, panting and bruised, gathered around their leader, Volk Mog''ger, their weapons still in hand but lowered, as the adrenaline of battle began to subside.


    One of the orcs, his face smudged with dirt and blood, was the first to speak.


    "Leader¡­ by the spirits, if it weren''t for you, we''d all be in that beast''s belly right now!"


    His voice was thick with relief and gratitude.


    "You led us like a true war chief, showed us exactly how to fight that monster."


    Another orc, a broad-shouldered brute with a long scar running down his face, nodded vigorously.


    "Aye, I''ve never seen anything like it. You knew where to strike, when to fall back¡­ it was like you could read our minds, Volk."


    The orcs all began to chime in, their voices ovepping in a chorus of thanks and admiration.


    "Without you, we''d have been scattered and picked off one by one."


    "You gave us the strength to fight, Volk. You''re a true leader."


    "Lok''tar Ogar!" another orc yelled, lifting his axe in a salute.


    Volk listened to them, a strange warmth filling his chest.


    He had never been one for grand speeches or basking in the adtion of others, but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing he had led these orcs to victory, that they trusted him, relied on him.


    Their gratitude was palpable, he could also feel their admiration were all sincere.


    But then, one of the orcs, a younger one with a curious glint in his eye, stepped forward and asked, "Leader¡­ How did you do that? I mean, how did you know when we were getting tired, or who was ready to strike, or who needed to defend? It was like you could feel what we were feeling."


    The other orcs fell silent, turning their eyes to Volk.


    The same question had been on all of their minds, but none had dared to voice it until now.


    How had he known?


    How had he led them with such precision, such insight?


    Volk hesitated for a moment, his mind was thinking what to answer.


    How had he known?


    In the heat of battle, he hadn''t had time to think about it, he had just¡­ known. But now, under their expectant gazes, he searched for an exnation.


    "I¡­ I don''t really know," Volk began, his voice uncertain at first.


    "It''s like¡­ I could feel your energy. Not just your physical strength, but something deeper. Your¡­ your green botanical energy."


    He paused, realizing how strange the words sounded even as he said them.


    The orcs exchanged confused nces. "Green botanical energy?" one of them echoed, scratching his head.


    "I know it sounds weird," Volk continued, trying to exin it to himself as much as to them.


    "But it was like there was this feeling I am familiar with the hazardous energy, like I could sense when one of you was about to falter, or when one of you had that burst of strength needed tond a decisive blow. I could feel your determination, your fear, your courage¡­ all of it because of all the hazardous magic particles moving in your bodies."


    The orcs stared at him.


    They didn''t fully understand what he was saying, but they didn''t need to.


    They had felt it too, in a way¡ªthis unspoken bond that had formed between them in the heat of battle.


    "Well, whatever it was," the scarred orc said, breaking the silence, "it worked. You led us to victory, Leader Volk. That''s all that matters."


    "Aye!" another orc shouted. "Lok''tar Ogar, Leader Volk!"


    "Lok''tar Ogar!" the others echoed, their voices rising in unison as they raised their weapons high.


    Volk felt a swell of pride and solidarity as he joined in their war cry. "Lok''tar Ogaaaaaaaaaar!!!"


    But just as the echoes of their triumphant shout began to fade, a cold chill swept through the cavern.


    It started as a low, almost inaudible sound, but quickly grew louder¡ªaugh, twisted and filled with malice.


    "Kekekekkekeke¡­"


    The orcs'' cheers died in their throats as they turned towards the source of the eerie sound, they could feel their blood somehow running cold.


    Theughter grew louder, more manic.


    "Kehahahahahaaha¡­ it''s been almost two years¡­ I thought I would be thoroughly dissolved by that damn beast!"


    The voice was filled with frustration and insanity, like the ravings of a man driven to the brink of madness.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed as he scanned the darkness, searching for the speaker. But what he saw instead was something far more terrifying.


    Dozer, the massive three-headed beast they had just in, was moving.


    Its body, which hadin still in the dirt, began to twitch and convulse.


    The orcs backed away in horror as the beast''s muscles rippled and bulged, its three heads lolling to the side as if puppets on a string.


    The once-ferocious eyes now stared nkly in every direction, as if no longer bound to themands of a living mind.


    "What¡­ what''s happening?" one of the orcs stammered, his voice trembling with fear.


    Theughter continued, echoing off the cavern walls. "It''s time¡­ time for my rebirth!"


    Volk''s grip tightened on his axe as the beast''s body began to rise, its movements jerky and unnatural, like a marite being pulled up by invisible strings.


    The air around them grew thick with a foul, rotting stench as the once-mighty Dozer was animated by a force beyond death.


    "You see," the voice continued, now dripping with a sickening glee, "two years ago, I entered this cave along with other students of the Dogfiend Kingdom. We were foolish, arrogant, thinking we could defeat this descendant of Cerberus, this so-called Dozer. But we were wrong¡­ oh, so wrong."


    The voice took on a tone of grim nostalgia, recounting the horrors of the past.


    "One by one, I watched my ssmates fall. They were crushed, devoured, dissolved within this beast''s stomach. The stench of death was unbearable, the pain unimaginable. I thought no one¡­ no one could save me. I was resigned to my fate, my body and soul to be consumed by this monster¡­"


    The orcs, horrified, continued to watch as Dozer''s body fully stood up, towering over them once again. But something was different this time.


    The beast''s movements were more erratic, more savage, as if it were infected with some rabid disease.


    Its three heads jerked and snapped at the air, its eyes rolling in its skulls, dead and vacant.


    "But then¡­ you arrived," the voice said, nowced with a twisted kind of gratitude. "You, the hazardous orc, and your little band of warriors. You saved me¡­ you distracted Dozer just long enough for me to seize this opportunity. And now, now that I possess this body, I will show you my thanks¡­ by devouring you all!"


    As the voice finished its deranged monologue, a grotesque sound filled the cavern, a wet, squelching noise that sent shivers down the orcs'' spines.


    They watched in horror as the center head of Dozer, the one that had been in the middle of the trio, began to split open.


    Kwashack!


    Flesh and blood oozed out from the widening crack, the skin tearing apart as something emerged from within.


    From the gory wound, a bloodied humanoid creature began to crawl out. Its form was twisted and malformed, its skin slick with gore.


    The creature''s eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light, its mouth stretched into a grotesque grin.


    "Ah?"


    The orcs stepped back, their weapons at the ready but their hearts filled with dread.


    This was no longer the beast they had fought and defeated.


    They could feel that this was something far more terrifying, something that defied the natural order of life and death wasing out.


    The creature finally emerged fully from the beast''s corpse, standing tall atop the lifeless body of Dozer.


    It was humanoid in shape, but its features were twisted and monstrous.


    It had a long, spindly arm that ended in razor-sharp ws, its skin a sickly gray-green, covered in patches of matted fur and oozing sores.


    The creature looked down at them with its glowing yellow eyes and let out a low, menacing chuckle.


    "Thank you for saving me," it hissed, its voice dripping with malice.


    "Thank you¡­ for giving me the chance to be reborn in this glorious form. Now¡­ let me show you the power of Dozer¡­ Dozer Version Two."

 Chapter 46: Another One

    The air felt disgusting as Volk and the orcs stood face to face with the monstrous abomination that had emerged from the corpse of Dozer.


    The beast''s eyes glowed with an unnatural yellow light, its twisted, malformed body radiating an aura of pure malevolence.


    The orcs'' hearts pounded in their chests as they prepared themselves for the fight of their lives.


    Suddenly, a familiar chime echoed in Volk''s mind, a sound that had be all toomon in this strange new world.


    | Ding!


    A system notification shed before his eyes:


    | Mission triggered.


    | Defeat the foe Dozer: Version 2 with your tribe!


    | Note: Anything works!


    | Failure: Removal of your Sidestep ability in your normal Orc form.


    | Rewards: Controlled Radiation in your Radioactive Form state. |


    Volk''s throat went dry as he read the words. He didn''t know what "Controlled Radiation" meant, but the idea of losing his Sidestep ability was daunting.


    That skill could save him countless times in the future, after all, he would be vulnerable on his Radioactive form once the duration of the Radioactive form was done.


    The thought of Sidestep ability being taken away sent a shiver down his spine. But there was no time to dwell on it. He had a mission, and his tribe was counting on him.


    Volk tightened his grip on the Axe of Dissection, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon in his hands.


    He looked at the twisted creature before him and felt a surge of determination. He couldn''t afford to fail.


    "If we beat it once already, we can beat it again!" Volk bellowed, his voice echoing off the cavern walls. "That random disgusting flesh on top of one of its three heade will not change a thing! ATTAAAAAAAACCKKK!!!!"


    The orcs, ignited by Volk''s unyielding confidence, roared in unison.


    "Lok''tar Ogaaaaaaaaaar!!!"


    Their war cry filled the cavern, reverberating through the stone and striking fear into the heart of their foe.


    But the creature atop Dozer''s body merely sneered, its lips curling into a twisted grin. "I am not Dozer," it hissed, its voice dripping with venom. "You all won''t win against me especially if I strike you first! You filthy, hazardous, bone-eating blockheads!"


    Without warning, the monstrous three-headed dog, now controlled by the red elf-like creature, lunged at Volk with terrifying speed.


    The ground shook beneath its massive paws as it charged, one could see all its three heads snapping and snarling, with its eyes locked onto its target.


    The orcs, who had been ready to charge, faltered in fear as the beast bore down on their leader.


    Kabam!


    The force of the impact was like a thunderp.


    The cavern floor trembled as Volk was mmed into the ground, the air forced from his lungs.


    Dust and debris flew up around them, obscuring the battlefield.


    For a moment, everything was still.


    The orcs stared in horror, their hearts sinking into despair.


    Their leader, the one who had guided them to victory before, had been struck down first!


    What do they do now?


    Without, will they make it alive?


    But then, through the settling dust and debris, a voice rang out, steady and strong. "I am fine."


    The orcs turned their heads in disbelief.


    There, standing tall and unharmed, was Volk. He had somehow evaded the beast''s devastating attack, his body appearing in another ce entirely.


    The red creature on top of the three-headed dog recoiled in shock, its twisted features contorted in disbelief. "How¡­ how did you¡ª?"


    Volk''s voice cut through the creature''s confusion like a de. "Don''t let me distract you! The battle is not over! ATAAAAAACK!!!"


    The orcs, shaken from their momentary stupor, rallied once more.


    "ROAAAARRRRR!!"


    Their leader was still standing, still fighting. And as long as Volk was with them, they would not give up.


    With renewed determination, they raised their weapons and charged, their war cries filling the cavern once more.


    "LOK''TAR OGAAAAAAARR!!!"


    The battle was a furious storm of steel and flesh.


    The three-headed dog was a blur of teeth and ws, its monstrous heads snapping at anything that came close.


    Volk''s orcs fought with everything they had, dodging and weaving, striking whenever an opportunity presented itself. But the creature was relentless, its power seemingly endless.


    "Grashk, to the left! Grok''Thar, fall back and cover the rear!" Volk shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Lhum''Baggar, nk it from the right! Wait for its head to dip, then strike!"


    The orcs followed Volk''smands with precision, with their movements seemingly synchronized like a well-oiled machine.


    They struck and retreated, timing their attacks perfectly to avoid the beast''s deadly counterstrikes.


    Kabang! Kabang! Kabang!


    Every blow theynded was a small victory, every dodge a testament to their growing skill.


    "Keep your distance from its heads! Wait for it to lunge, then move in!" Volkmanded, his eyes never leaving the creature. "We can wear it down! We''ve done it before!"


    But the red creature atop the beast would not be silenced. It cackles maniacally, its voice grating against their ears. "You think you can defeat me? You think you can stop the power of Dozer? I will crush you all! Starting with you, hazardous orc!"


    The beast lunged again, its massive body crashing through the ranks of the orcs.


    Volk sidestepped the attack again, disappearing from where he was instantly.


    The creature snarled in frustration, one could see its six murderous eyes were now burning with deep seething hatred.


    "Strike now! Its left head is exposed!" Volk shouted, pointing with his axe.


    Lhum''Baggar charged in, with his massive hammer held high.


    With a roar, "RAAAAAAARRRRHHH!!" he brought it down with all his might, the weapon connecting with a sickening crunch.


    CRAAAAAAACCKKKK!!!


    The left head of the beast recoiled, blood spraying from the wound.


    The red creature screamed in fury, its control over the beast faltering for just a moment. "No! How dare you! You will all die! DIE!"


    But Volk ignored the creature''s ravings, his focus solely on the battle. "Grashk, Grok''Thar, hit the right head while it''s distracted! Don''t give it time to recover!"


    The two orcs moved in tandem, their weapons slicing through the air with deadly precision.


    The right head of the beast snapped at them, but they were too quick, their des cutting deep into its flesh.


    The beast howled in pain, its movements bing more erratic, more desperate.


    "Now, everyone! together! Strike the center head! This is our chance!" Volk yelled, his voice filled with the fire of battle.


    The orcs charged as one, with their weapons raised high.


    The beast, its three heads now wounded and bleeding, could do little to defend itself.


    Soon, he received the strike with all their might, with their weapons buried deep into the center head''s skull.


    Craaaagggg!!!


    The beast roared in agony, its body convulsing as it struggled to remain standing.


    "AAAAAAAAARRGHHH!!"


    But the red creature was not done. "I am not finished! I will consume you all!" it shrieked, its voice cracking with madness.


    It pulled at the beast''s flesh, trying to force it to keep fighting, to keep moving. But the beast was at its limit. Its body was failing, its strength waning.


    "Push it back! Don''t give it a chance to recover!" Volk ordered, his axe shing as he struck again and again.


    The orcs did not relent.


    They hammered the beast with everything they had, their strikes fueled by a desperate determination.


    Bang! Bang! Bang!


    The red creature screamed and cursed them, its voice growing more hysterical with each passing moment.


    "No! No! This can''t be happening! You filthy orcs! I will kill you all!" the creature wailed, tears of frustration and rage streaming down its face. But its threats fell on deaf ears.


    The orcs were beyond fear, beyond hesitation. They were fighting for their lives, and they would not stop until the beast was dead.


    Finally, with onest, mighty blow, Grashk brought his hammer down on the center head.


    KABANG!


    The skull cracked, CREEAKKKKK!! bone and flesh giving way under the force of the strike.


    The beast''s body shuddered violently, then it copsed to the ground with a thunderous crash.


    VOOMM!!


    The cavern fell silent, the echoes of the battle slowly fading away.


    The orcs stood panting, one could see their bodies battered and bruised, but alive.


    The three-headed beast, Dozer,y motionless at their feet, its massive form finally defeated.


    But the battle was not yet over. The red creature, now lying atop the beast''s corpse, red up at them with wild, bloodshot eyes. "You¡­ you will pay for this," it hissed, its voice trembling with fury. "I will make you all suffer¡­"


    But before it could utter another word, Grashk stepped forward, his hammer still in hand.


    Without a word, he raised the weapon high and brought it down on the creature''s head with a sickening crunch.


    The red creature''s body went limp, its threats silenced forever.


    The orcs stood in silence, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. The battle was over.


    They had won.


    However, the cost had been great, and the memory of the twisted creature''s madness would stay with them for a long time.


    Volk lowered his axe, his body trembling with exhaustion. But as he looked around at his tribe, at the orcs who had fought and bled by his side, he felt a deep sense of pride.


    They had faced the impossible, and they had prevailed.


    "Lok''tar Ogar," Volk whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and respect. And as the orcs echoed his words, he xouskrn help but feel at ease, each of their voices were strong and unwavering.

 Chapter 47: Grum-gar Dog

    Volk stood amid the remains of the battle, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.


    The blood of the fallen beast pooled around his feet, and the stench of death hung heavy in the air.


    His orcs were celebrating their hard-won victory, their cheers echoing off the cavern walls. But despite the triumph, Volk couldn''t shake the feeling of emptiness inside him.


    He thought that the second version would force him to enter his Radioactive form, but it turns out, it can''t.


    It was defeated instantly.


    Suddenly, he saw the familiar screen.


    | Ding!


    | Missionpleted.


    | Reward: Controlled Radiation in your Radioactive Form state is now given to the host. |


    The words floated in his vision, but they did little to fill the void inside him.


    The battle had ended too quickly. He hadn''t even had the chance to test his abilities or push his limits.


    Instead, they had merely survived, oveing the challenge through sheer brute force rather than skill.


    Volk''s satisfaction was short-lived, and a strange hollowness filled his chest. ''Was that it?'' he thought to himself, staring at the bloodied ground.


    He had expected more¡ªwanted more.


    There was an undeniable itch under his skin, a craving for something greater, something that would truly challenge him. As these thoughts swirled in his mind, another notification appeared.


    | Ding!


    | New mission.


    | Defeat and show dominance against the Grum-gar Dozer in its fourth Grum-gar evolution.


    | Rewards: Team Grum-gar evolution.|


    Volk''s heart skipped a beat. A new mission¡ªand one that promised something called "Team Grum-gar evolution," whatever that meant.


    However, he had an idea.


    Does that mean his team would get a Grum-gar form too?


    He clenched his fists, feeling his pulse quicken with a mix of excitement and anxiety.


    The prospect of another fight¡ªan even more dangerous one¡ªsent a thrill through him, but he couldn''t ignore the unsettling mystery of the reward.


    What did "Team evolution" entail?


    Would it change him?


    His Dreadmaw n?


    His musings were cut short by the rumble beneath his feet.


    Rumble!


    The cavern, which had been filled with the sounds of victory moments before, fell eerily silent once again.


    The ground trembled violently, as though the earth itself was groaning in protest. Volk''s eyes widened, and he barked orders without hesitation.


    "Get back!"


    The orcs, instinctively trusting their leader, immediately scrambled backward, forming a defensive line.


    Their earlier celebration was reced by tense anticipation as they scanned the cavern for the source of the disturbance.


    "Is it not the end yet?"


    Grashk asked, his voiceced with disbelief. His grip tightened around his weapon as he nced nervously at Volk.


    Volk''s expression was grim as he shook his head. "I''m afraid not."


    As if on cue, a massive, familiarughter echoed through the cavern, sending shivers down the spines of the orcs.


    It was a sound they had heard before¡ªmaniacal and mocking, filled with a twisted glee that chilled their blood.


    ''''Kekekkekekkekeke! Nyekekekekekek!''''


    The air felt like it was closing in one direction with the tension as the orcs watched in horror.


    The corpse of the three-headed beast that had been lying lifeless on the ground began to twitch.


    Slowly, impossibly, it began to rise again, its massive form shaking off the remnants of death as if it were merely waking from a deep slumber.


    "What in the gods'' names¡­?" one of the orcs muttered, his voice trembling with fear.


    The beast''s flesh writhed and shifted, the red, fleshy humanoid creature atop the center head reassembling itself from the blood and gore.


    Its body grewrger, more muscr, with veins bulging grotesquely beneath its skin.


    The creature''s long ears twitched as it surveyed the orcs with a sinister grin, its eyes glinting with malice.


    "You thought you had won," the creature hissed, its voice dripping with contempt. "But you''ve only managed to anger Dozer¡ªand me. I should thank you, really. Without your interference, I might have remained dormant, trapped within this beast''s decaying flesh. But now¡­ now I am reborn."


    The orcs bristled at the creature''s words, but none dared to move.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed as he studied the creature, trying to gauge its new power.


    It was undeniably stronger than before¡ªhe could feel the oppressive weight of its presence, pressing down on them like a physical force.


    The red humanoid creature seemed to delight in their fear, its grin widening as it began to speak again.


    "Dozer, you see, has always had a taste for Hornless Orcs. It''s his favorite delicacy. The reason why? Because like you,"¡ªthe creature pointed a long, wed finger at Volk and his tribe¡ª"he has a Grum-gar form too."


    The orcs exchanged uneasy nces.


    The term "Grum-gar" was not one they were familiar with, but the way the creature spoke it sent a chill through their bones.


    Does that mean?


    The orcs shuddered at the creature''s words, their fear mounting with each passing moment.


    Grashk, his curiosity getting the better of him, spoke up. "If he''s so powerful, why didn''t he use that form earlier? We killed him twice! Howe the three-headed dungeon boss couldn''t stop us?"


    The creature''s head snapped toward Grashk, its eyes narrowing dangerously. "Do you really want to know?" it hissed, its voiceced with venom.


    Volk and the other orcs braced themselves, unsure of what to expect.


    The creature''s presence was overwhelming, and its words seemed to seep into their very souls, nting seeds of doubt and fear.


    But despite their trepidation, the orcs couldn''t deny their curiosity. They wanted to know¡ªneeded to know¡ªwhat they were up against.


    The creature''s grin returned, wider and more sinister than before. "Kekekekeke¡­ very well. I''ll tell you," it said, its voice dripping with malevolence.


    "Dozer is not just any beast. He is a Grum-gar¡ªa creature born of ancient magic, a relic of a time when the world was young and the gods still walked among mortals. His power is tied to his consumption of flesh, particrly the flesh of Hornless Orcs. The more he devours, the stronger he bes.


    But to reach his full potential, to ascend to his true form, he must consume not just flesh, but the very essence of his prey."


    The creature''s eyes gleamed with a twisted satisfaction as it watched the orcs'' reactions.


    "And that is why he chose this form, this three-headed monstrosity. It allows him to consume more efficiently, to absorb the essence of his prey and grow stronger with each kill. But he is patient, oh so patient. He waits, biding his time, until he has consumed enough to evolve, to transcend his current form."


    The orcs exchanged uneasy nces, the creature''s words seemed fake.


    Why the hell is he rambling useless sh*t?


    "And now," the creature continued, its voice rising to a fever pitch, "you have given him the opportunity to evolve once more. To ascend to his third Grum-gar form¡ªthe most powerful, the most terrifying. And when he does, there will be nothing left of you but bones and ash. Kekekekeke¡­"


    The creature''sughter echoed through the cavern, sending chills down the spines of the orcs.


    It was a sound filled with madness, a twisted joy that seemed to revel in their impending doom.


    Volk''s mind raced as he processed the creature''s words.


    The creature''sughter suddenly stopped, and it fixed Volk with a piercing gaze.


    "You really want to know why Dozer didn''t evolve earlier?" it asked, its voice low and dangerous. "You see, you see, you see, I was lying all this time, because the truth is, the truth is, the truth is, I am, I am¡­"


    The creatures leaned closer to it, like a madman.


    "A WARLOCK!"

 Chapter 48: Warlock Zenveil

    When the creature revealed itself as a warlock, it began tough uncontrobly, a high-pitched, unhinged cackle that reverberated through the cavern.


    Theughter was so intense, so manic, that it sent a cold shiver down Volk''s spine.


    The orcs around him, who had been tense and on edge, were suddenly gripped by an unnatural fear.


    "Yes!" the warlock screamed between fits ofughter.


    "Yes, Dozer is already dead! He is nothing more than a lifeless husk! A body that I, Warlock Zenveil, control! I am the master! I am the one who bends his will to my own! He is my puppet, and you¡­ you are nothing more than my ythings!"


    As Zenveil''s words echoed through the cavern, Volk felt a strange, unsettling sensation wash over him.


    It was as if the very air around him had shifted, thickening with an oppressive force.


    When the warlock had revealed his identity, it was as though a shockwave had rippled through the space, altering the atmosphere and making it heavy with dread.


    Volk heard the ng of weapons falling to the ground, one after another.


    Turning to look behind him, his eyes widened in shock.


    His brethren¡ªthe fierce, battle-hardened orcs¡ªstood paralyzed, their faces contorted in expressions of sheer terror.


    Their eyes were wide, unblinking, fixed on Warlock Zenveil with a look that bordered on horror.


    "What¡­?"


    Volk began to ask, his voice trembling. But as he opened his mouth to speak, he felt it too¡ªa primal dread that seized his body, locking his muscles in ce.


    His breath caught in his throat, and he found himself unable to move. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could its frantic drumbeat that echoed in his ears.


    What''s going on? he thought, panic setting in.


    He could feel the fear crawling up his spine, a cold, mmy sensation that made his skin prickle.


    Warlock Zenveil''sughter grew louder, more deranged.


    "Grahahahahahahha!


    The sight of the orcs frozen in fear seemed to delight him, and he spoke with a tone of maniacal amusement.


    "Ah, the Hornless Orc tribe¡­ my favorite," he purred, savoring the words. "The best subjects for our scientific experiments. You see, the Hornless Orcs possess something unique, something special¡­ something that we warlocks find irresistible."


    The warlock began to circle the orcs slowly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.


    "Do you know what we warlocks love to do with your kind? We like to see what makes you tick, what makes you suffer. Let me share a few of our¡­ experiments with you."


    He pointed at one of the paralyzed orcs, his finger trembling with excitement.


    "First, we like to test your pain tolerance. We push your bodies to the brink, see how much you can endure before you break. We peel away your flesh,yer byyer, while you scream for mercy. But we do not grant it. Oh no, we enjoy watching you writhe, watching your souls wither in agony."


    Zenveil turned his gaze to another orc, who stood rigid with fear.


    "Second, we experiment with your minds. We delve deep into your thoughts, your memories. We strip away your sanity, bit by bit, until you''re nothing more than a hollow shell of your former self. We twist your reality, warp it until you can no longer tell what is real and what is an illusion. You be our puppets, your will bent to ours, your mind shattered."


    He stepped closer to Volk, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper.


    "Third, we love to y with your Grum-gar form. The ability to turn into an Ogre¡­ it''s fascinating, really. We''ve dissected many of your kind to learn how it works. We''ve experimented with fusing other creatures to your Grum-gar form, creating monstrous abominations that are neither orc nor beast.


    We take pleasure in watching you transform, watching your bodies twist and contort in pain as the transformation takes hold."


    Finally, Zenveil''s eyes glittered with malevolence as he spoke thest of his examples.


    "And fourth, we study your fear. We push you to the edge of despair, see how far we can drive you before you lose all hope. We force you to face your deepest, darkest fears, to confront the nightmares that haunt you. And when you are at your most vulnerable, when you are begging for the sweet release of death¡­ we deny it to you. We keep you alive, so that you can suffer just a little bit more."


    The warlock''s words sent a wave of revulsion through Volk.


    His mind reeled as he recalled the memories of the orc he had possessed¡ªtheir fear of warlocks and dark elves had seemed exaggerated at the time, a paranoia born of superstition.


    But now, standing before Zenveil, Volk understood that their fear had been all too real.


    The dread he felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced, like it was a terror so deep and primal that it rooted him to the spot, rendering him helpless.


    Suddenly, Volk was struck by a shback.


    The feeling was eerily familiar, bringing him back to a time in his previous life when he had been trapped in a wheelchair, paralyzed and powerless.


    He remembered the helplessness, the frustration of being unable to move, to fight back against the world around him.


    He recalled the days when he had beenpletely dependent on others, when he had been forced to watch life pass him by, unable to participate.


    He remembered the stares, the pity in the eyes of those who looked down on him, and the burning resentment that had simmered within him.


    He remembered four specific instances that had scarred him deeply.


    The first was the time when he had been stranded in his wheelchair in the middle of a busy street, unable to cross because the sidewalk was too high for him to navigate.


    Cars had zoomed past him, honking their horns, but no one had stopped to help.


    He had felt utterly helpless, a prisoner in his own body.


    The second memory was of a hospital stay, when he had been confined to a bed for weeks, unable to move without assistance.


    The doctors and nurses had treated him like a child, speaking to him in condescending tones, as if his physical disability had somehow diminished his intellect.


    He had seethed with anger, but there had been nothing he could do.


    The third memory was of a family gathering, where he had been left alone in a corner while everyone else enjoyed themselves.


    No one had bothered to include him in the festivities, and he had felt invisible, like a ghost haunting a world that no longer had a ce for him.


    The fourth and final memory was of a particrly humiliating experience, when he had been forced to ask for help with something as simple as opening a door.


    The person he had asked had looked at him with pity, as if he were a burden, and had reluctantly assisted him.


    The shame and frustration had eaten away at him, leaving a deep scar on his soul.


    No, Volk thought fiercely.


    I won''t be helpless again. I won''t be trapped like this!


    With every ounce of strength he could muster, Volk fought against the paralysis that gripped him.


    His muscles bulged and trembled as he tried to move, and not long, he finally let out a guttural scream, pushing himself to break free.


    "Haaaaaaaarrrggghhhh!!!"


    Warlock Zenveil''s eyes widened in surprise, and he pped his hands in mock apuse.


    "Impressive! Truly impressive!" he eximed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.


    "You, the most hazardous Orc I have ever seen, are quite peculiar. You can lead, you can disappear when attacked, and now you''re trying to ovee the primal fear that all warlocks have instilled in your race? Remarkable!"


    The warlock''s tone shifted, bing more menacing. His eyes gleamed with a sadistic curiosity as he took a step closer to Volk.


    "How about I make you a part of my experiment?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.


    Volk continued to struggle, his teeth gritted in determination. But the warlock''s words sent a chill down his spine, and he couldn''t help but listen as Zenveil began to speak of the experiments he had yet toplete.


    "You see," Zenveil said, his voice filled with dark amusement, "there are so many things I''ve yet to try. So many¡­ possibilities. For example, I could take your hazardous form and see what happens when I expose it to pure, concentrated darkness. What would be of you then, I wonder? Would you be a creature of the night, or would you simply cease to exist?"


    He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing.


    "Or perhaps I could fuse your Grum-gar form with another creature, something more¡­ vtile. A reptile, perhaps? Imagine the power you would wield, the destruction you could cause. Of course, the process would be excruciatingly painful, but that''s all part of the fun, isn''t it?"


    Zenveil''s eyes glinted with malevolence as he considered his options.


    "I could also experiment with your mind, delve deep into your thoughts and memories, twist them until you no longer recognize yourself. I could make you believe that you are something else entirely¡ªa beast, a monster, a mindless ve.


    "Or I could strip away your will, turn you into nothing more than a puppet, dancing on my strings and would do anything I tell it to do. But that would be too boring, I''ll do that once I''m done with experiments of everyone around you! Hahaha"


    After that, Zenveil was not done. But someone on his face appeared. "Eat this!"

 Chapter 49: Orcs Bloodline fear

    The cave echoed with the sound of dripping water amidst the bone armored Orcs who were frozen in fear.


    The dim light from the phosphorescent moss barely illuminated the jagged rocks lining the cavern''s walls.


    The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the pungent odor of the three-headed beast, Dozer.


    Its low growl reverberated through the space, a deep rumble that seemed to shake the very ground beneath their feet.


    As Zenveil kept talking, Volk''s figure appeared near his face in a blur.


    He moved with a swift, almost inOrcish grace, with his form sidestepped through the shadows as though they were part of him.


    However, the faint clink of his armor was drowned out by the beast''s guttural snarls. And before he couldunch an attack, Warlock Zenveil, perched atop the massive creature, flicked his wrist dismissively.


    Volk felt a force m into him.


    Kabang!


    His body crashed against the rough stone of the cave wall, sending a shower of dust and debris into the air.


    But Volk was ready. With a grunt, he nted his feet against the wall, absorbing the impact.


    He slid down,nding in a crouch, eyes narrowing as he red at Zenveil.


    The Warlock''s smile was mocking, with his maniacal gaze dripping with arrogance as he said, "Predictable."


    Volk muttered under his breath, "I am not done!" shaking off the pain. He was thinking of using his Radioactive form, ''is it time?'' he thought.


    Zenveil''s smirk widened as if he could hear Volk''s thoughts. "Still the same tricks, hazardous Orc?" he sneered. "You can try that as many times as you want until I make you realize it''s useless before me."


    Volk''s jaw tightened, but before he could retort, a shadow loomed behind Zenveil. The air seemed to grow heavier, the ground trembling with the weight of something massive.


    Emerging from the darkness was a hulking figure, green and grotesque, but not towering over even the monstrous size of Dozer who was in Warlock''s control.


    Volk''s breath hitched as he stared at the creature.


    It was an Ogre, a being of brute strength and ferocity. But there was something familiar about its face, though it was twisted into a more monstrous version of itself, he was somewhat very familiar.


    Zenveil smirked on the top of the three headed Dozer, "Interesting, another one who couldn''t make it? Didn''t your ancestors and instincts tell you to not use your form against me?"


    "ME, GRASHK," the Ogre boomed, his voice like andslide crashing down a mountain. The words were simple, the sentences clipped, but the power behind them was undeniable.


    "SWING WEAPON TO WARLOOOOOCK!"


    Grashk, in his Grum-gar Ogre form, swung his massive club with a force that whistled through the air.


    Whoosh!


    The weapon connected with Dozer''s side, the impact resonating through the cavern.


    The three-headed dog-beast snarled, its heads snapping toward Grashk, jaws dripping with saliva. But Grashk was undeterred, his strength seemingly inexhaustible as he pressed the attack, each swing of his weapon sending shockwaves through the ground.


    Thud!


    Crack!


    Volk watched, still seated where he hadnded, his mind reeling.


    Grashk¡­ He was different now, transformed into this hulking behemoth, yet there was no mistaking the Orc warrior beneath the monstrous exterior. But before Volk could rise to join the fray, Zenveil''s voice cut through the chaos like a de.


    "Hazardous Orc," Zenveil called out, his tone eerily calm despite the battle raging around him. His eyes locked onto Volk with a piercing intensity. "You''re their leader, aren''t you? Do you even know why your kind fears us Warlocks?"


    Volk''s expression hardened, but he remained silent, his gaze locked on Zenveil''s smug face. The Warlock''s lips curled into a smile, cold and cruel.


    "It''s because we have power over you," Zenveil continued, his voiceced with condescension. "We can turn your precious Grum-gar warriors back into the weaklings they truly are."


    Before Volk could respond, Zenveil raised his hand, and with a swift, almostzy motion, directed Dozer toward Grashk.


    The beast lunged, its three heads snapping with terrifying speed and precision.


    Snap!


    Snap!


    Snap!


    The jaws mped down on Grashk''s limbs, and with a violent shake, the massive Ogre was mmed against the cave walls.


    Bang!


    Bang!


    Bang!


    The sound of Grashk''s body hitting the stone was like thunder, the force enough to send cracks spider webbing across the surface.


    Volk could only watch as Grashk''s form was battered against the floor and walls, making the ground tremble with each brutal impact.


    Dust and rocks rained down from above, the noise deafening in the enclosed space. And then, with a final, powerful throw, Dozer hurled Grashk into the air.


    Hacha!


    Zenveil''s eyes gleamed with dark energy as he reached out with his humanoid hand, touching Grashk''s battered form mid-air.


    The air around them shimmered with an unnatural energy, a sickly green light emanating from Zenveil''s touch.


    Slowly, to Volk''s horror, Grashk began to change.


    The massive, grotesque form of the Grum-gar Ogre began to shrink, the bulging muscles receding, the monstrous features softening.


    It was as though the strength was being drained from him, his power siphoned away by Zenveil''s cursed magic.


    Grashk''s roars turned into agonized groans as his body twisted and contorted, shrinking down until he was once again the Orc Volk recognized.


    His skin lost its greenish hue, his body shrinking and shriveling, until he was nothing more than a broken figure, weak and vulnerable.


    Grashk''s eyes, once full of rage and power, now held only pain and fear as he was thrown to the ground with a sickening thud!


    The other Orcs gasped, their disbelief palpable as they watched their formidable warrior reduced to his original, weakened form.


    They could hardly believe what they had seen, the sight of theirrade¡ªa warrior who had been a symbol of their strength¡ªnowying crumpled on the cold stone.


    Zenveil''s gaze flicked back to Volk, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "And that," he said, his voice dripping with superiority, "is why Orcs fear Warlocks. Because we can take away what makes you strong. Anytime we want."


    The words were like a heavy sledgehammer dropped to their head, a final, crushing blow to the Orcs'' morale.


    Soon, silence descended on the cave, broken only by the shallow,bored breaths of Grashk as hey motionless on the ground.


    The other Orcs looked to Volk, their eyes filled with desperation and uncertainty.


    For a moment, Volk remained still, his body tense, his fists clenched at his sides.


    His eyes were seeing things, grappling with the horror of what he had just witnessed. But then, something inside him snapped into ce¡ªa fierce, unyielding resolve.


    He pushed himself up from the ground, every muscle in his body screaming in protest, but he ignored the pain. His eyes locked onto Zenveil, zing with a fire that could not be extinguished.


    "HE''S LYING!"


    Volk roared, with his voice echoing through the cavern, cutting through the fear that had taken hold of hisrades.


    The sheer force of his words seemed to shake them from their stupor.


    "MAG''DUROTANS!!!"


    He shouted out loud!


    "HE NEEDED TO BEAT GRASHK FIRST TO MAKE HIM TURN BACK TO NORMAL! AS LONG AS WE BEAT HIM UP AND DON''T GET INJURED TOO MUCH, I BELIEVE WE CAN BEAT HIM!"


    The other Orcs stirred at his words, the light of hope rekindling in their eyes.


    Volk''s presence, his unwavering confidence, and the familiar strong look in his eyes was like a beacon in the darkness.


    It gave them something to hold onto, something to fight for.


    The Warlock might have power, but Volk had something they believed¡ªhe could see through the hazardous magic particles!


    "DREADMAW CLAN! BEAT THIS THREE HEADED DOG UP AGAIN! IT''S TIME TO PAINT OUR HANDS WITH WARLOCK''S BLOOD!"


    Zenveil''s smile faltered, just for a moment, as he saw the renewed fire in the Orcs'' eyes. But it was enough.


    Volk took a step forward, and then another, his gaze never leaving Zenveil''s.


    He was ready to fight, to lead his people, no matter the odds. Because this time, it''s time to turn into his Radioactive form!

 Chapter 50: TO BATTLE!

    "YOU REALLY!!"


    Zenveil''s voice was a thunderp in the cavern, filled with a fury that echoed off the jagged walls.


    Before Volk could react, the Warlock and his monstrous steed, Dozer, were already upon him.


    The air split with a booming sound, and in the blink of an eye, Zenveil''s sneering face was inches from Volk''s.


    Bang!


    The massive paw of the three-headed beast, controlled with precision by Zenveil''s dark magic, swung toward Volk with blinding speed.


    KaBang!


    The impact was like a boulder colliding with Volk''s chest.


    The force drove him deep into the earth, with the ground swallowing him in a cloud of dust and debris.


    His bones groaned under the heavy pressure, and for a moment, the world was nothing but a blur of pain.


    His mind spun, the taste of blood sharp on his tongue. But even as the world dimmed around him, Volk clung to consciousness, his heart pounding in defiance.


    He wasn''t dead.


    Not yet.


    GRAAAAAAHHHHH!!!


    The other Orcs, standing at the ready, felt the tremor in the ground as Volk was buried beneath it.


    Rumble!


    They knew he was still alive, and could feel the pulse of his life force even beneath the tons of rock and dirt.


    Without hesitation, they turned their attention to Zenveil, ignoring the snarling beast in front of them.


    Their eyes gleamed with a single-minded determination.


    They were now Grum-gar Orcs, born and bred not for battle anymore, but violence.


    They wouldn''t wait for Dozer to turn its attention back to them.


    With a collective roar, the Grum-gar Orcs charged forward, weapons raised high.


    GURRAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!! GRAAAAAAGGHHAAAAAAHHH!!!


    The cavern echoed with the shing of metal and the guttural cries of war.


    The Orcs in their Grum-gar forms were nothing short of terrifying, one could their bodies swollen with muscle and rage.


    They were a force of nature, raw and untamed, their movements fueled by sheer brute strength.


    There was no finesse in their attacks, only violence¡ªpure, unrelenting violence.


    One Grum-gar Orc swung his heavy axe toward Zenveil''s head.


    Swoosh!


    The air whistled as the weapon descended, but Zenveil was quick.


    The Warlock ducked, the de missing him by mere inches. But the Orc was undeterred, his momentum carrying him forward.


    He mmed into Zenveil with the full weight of his massive body.


    Bang!


    The impact sent Zenveil staggering back, his dark robes fluttering as he struggled to regain his footing.


    Another Orc, his eyes wild with fury, lunged at Zenveil, ws extended like a predator going in for the kill.


    He swiped at Zenveil''s chest, tearing through fabric and flesh alike.


    Rip!


    Blood sttered onto the stone floor, but Zenveil barely flinched. He hissed in pain, his eyes narrowing as heshed out with a curse.


    "DAMNED BRAINDEAD ORCS!"


    But the Grum-gar Orcs weren''t done.


    They were relentless, driven by the primal need to crush their enemy, turn it to pieces.


    One of them bit into Zenveil''s shoulder, teeth sinking deep into flesh.


    Crunch!


    The Warlock howled in agony, "Aaaaarrghh???" his voice a mix of rage and disbelief.


    He tried to shake the Orc off, but the creature held firm, his jaws locked tight.


    "GET OUTTTTT YOU SHHIIITTT!!!"


    Another Orc mmed into Zenveil''s side with a bone-crushing headbutt, the sound of skull meeting bone resonating through the cavern.


    Thud!


    Zenveil cursed again, his voice a low, venomous snarl. He could feel his control slipping, the seething rage within him boiling over.


    "You... WORTHLESS... VERMIN!"


    His voice cracked as he spoke, the words dripping with malice. But the Orcs were past hearing.


    They were lost to the bloodlust, their only goal to tear Zenveil apart, piece by piece.


    One by one, the Orcs attacked, their strikes chaotic, their movements unpredictable.


    There was no strategy, no coordination.


    Just brute force.


    An Orc leaped onto Zenveil''s back, wing and tearing at his robes, trying to drag him down.


    Another lunged at Zenveil''s legs, his powerful jaws snapping at the Warlock''s knees, trying to bring him to the ground.


    Snap!


    Zenveil was surrounded, his vision filled with nothing but snarling faces and swinging weapons. His own magic surged in response, dark energy crackling at his fingertips as he tried to fend them off. But there were too many, and they were too strong.


    Their blowsnded with sickening force, each one driving him further into a corner.


    Bang!


    Crack!


    Volk, deep beneath the ground, felt the vibrations of the battle above.


    The pain that wracked his body was like fire, burning through every nerve even though he was still in Radioactive Form, he didn''t expect this.


    However, what he didn''t know was that it was the fear that truly paralyzed him.


    The hesitation that gnawed at his heart, holding him back from unleashing his true raging potential.


    The old Grak''thor''s words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of his limitations.


    A Labor Orc like you¡­ can only mutate twice.


    What if it was true?


    What if this was his limit?


    What if he transformed again and didn''t get stronger and stronger, but instead, he just burned out the time back to his Orc form and got killed?


    He could feel the energy inside him, the radioactive power that had once saved him in battle. But if he tapped into it now, what would be left of him?


    Would he even survive?


    What if his power is enough!


    What if this power is restricted like his Grum-gar form?


    Can only only powered up twice.


    His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with both pain and fear. He was angry¡ªfurious, even¡ªbut the anger was tainted by something else.


    Something darker.


    The fear of the unknown.


    The fear of dying. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. His mind was a storm, torn between the urge to fight and the fear of what that fight might cost him.


    Volk''s growl echoed through the earth around him.


    GRAAAAAAAGGHH!!!!!


    The sound was deep and guttural, vibrating through the stones like a distant earthquake. He could feel the weight of the earth above him, pressing down on his chest, trying to smother him. But he wasn''t ready to die.


    Not yet.


    With a snarl, he bit down on his tongue, he instantly felt the sharp pain cutting through the fog of fear that clouded his mind and he got angry!


    He forced himself to move, feeling his muscles straining as he began to dig through the earth.


    Not long, his hands wed at the dirt, tearing through rock and stone as he burrowed upward.


    The pain in his body was a distant memory now, drowned out by the sheer force of his will.


    He could feel the anger building inside him as wed up, a burning rage that threatened to consume him entirely. But he embraced it, weed it, letting it fuel his every movement.


    Growl!


    Scratch!


    Dig!


    Above, the battle raged on.


    Zenveil, now pushed to his limit, felt his control slipping further with every passing second.


    The Orcs were like a mindless muscle swarm, their sheer numbers overwhelming. His vision blurred, the world spinning as he staggered backward, trying to put distance between himself and the relentless horde.


    However, there was no escape.


    The Orcs were everywhere, biting, wing, tearing at his flesh with an almost animalistic ferocity.


    "YOU DAMNED ORCS!"


    Zenveil screamed, his voice raw with frustration and pain. His hands glowed with dark energy, the power within him surging as he unleashed a wave of magic.


    After that, the muscle of the three headed Dozer began to expand with massive force.


    Kabam!


    The force of it sent several Grum-gar Orcs flying, and then one could see their bodies crashing against the cave walls with bone-jarring impacts.


    Boom!


    Bang!


    But the victory was short-lived.


    The Grum-gar Orcs picked themselves up, with their eyes zing with undiminished and even fury.


    They were beyond pain, beyond fear.


    They were driven by something far more primal¡ªthe need to destroy, to obliterate their enemy, no matter the cost.


    And then, something changed.


    Zenveil''s eyes narrowed as he felt the power within him shifting, growing.


    The dark magic that had fueled him for so long now seemed to be feeding on his anger, his desperation. His body began to swell, muscles expanding as his form grewrger andrger.


    Hisughter filled the cavern, deep and sinister.


    "HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA!"


    The Grum-gar Orcs faltered, their charge slowing as they beheld the transformation before them.


    Slowly, Zenveil and Dozer''s body had be a towering behemoth, his once human form now monstrous, grotesque.


    Whole Dozer became taller and wider.


    He loomed over the Orcs, and each of them seemed to feel his body radiating dark energy that crackled in the air around them.


    The Grum-gar Orcs, who had moments ago been filled with nothing but bloodlust, now hesitated.


    Fear crept into their eyes as they realized the sheer scale of the creature before them.


    They had been warriors, yes, but this?


    This was something else entirely.


    Zenveil''sugh echoed in the cavern, a sound that was more beast than man.


    He relished the fear in their eyes, the way they shrank back from him. "YOU''RE NOTHING!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the very walls of the cave. "NOTHING!"


    But then, the ground beneath them trembled.


    A crack appeared in the stone, snaking its way across the cavern floor with a low, rumbling growl.


    The Orcs'' eyes widened in shock as the crack grewrger, spreading outward like a spider''s web. And then, with a deafening boom!, the ground exploded upward.


    Volk emerged from the earth like a force of nature, one could see his body was still coated in dirt and blood, and his eyes were burning with a fire that had not been there before.


    His fist was already in the move as he erupted from the ground, GURAAAA!! a blur of movement that Zenveil barely had time to register.


    BAM!


    Volk''s fist connected with the jaw of the center head of the three headed beast where Zenveil was.

 Chapter 51: Deep-rooted despair

    The cave was silent for a split second after Volk''s fist connected with the dog''s chin.


    However, silence was quickly shattered as the massive back paw of Dozer, the three-headed beast, flicked Volk away like a ragdoll.


    Bang!


    The sound echoed through the cavern, and it was heard there was a mixture of bone and muscle crackers.


    Crack! Crack!!


    Volk flew forward, his body cutting through the air like a missile.


    Swoosh!


    He mmed into the wall, with the impact sending shockwaves through his body.


    KAboom!


    For Volk, the world blurred for a moment, his vision swimming as the pain set in.


    Boooom! Boom boom boom bOoomm!


    The wall behind him cracked under the force, with some explosion of dust and debris raining down around him.


    Groaning, GRRRR Volk pushed himself out of the crater he had created, his muscles screaming in protest.


    AGAARRGGH!!


    His face contorted with rage as he staggered to his feet, the fire in his eyes burning brighter than ever. But then he saw it.


    The sheer size of the creature before him, its hulking form casting an ominous shadow over the cavern. Immediately, his anger faltered, his body unconsciouslying to a halt.


    Volk''s eyes widened as he looked around at the rest of his horde.


    The other Orcs, once mighty in their Grum-gar forms, were now trembling.


    Their bodies began to shrink, the power that had surged through their veins draining away.


    One by one, some of them began to revert to their normal Orc forms, with fear etched into their body tremors.


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest as he felt his own body begin to tremble too.


    The muscr muscles in his legs spasmed uncontrobly, his fear rising like bile in his throat. He could barely keep his bnce, his knees threatening to buckle under the weight of his terror.


    His mind raced, a maelstrom of confusion and dread.


    What was happening?


    Why was he so afraid?


    Zenveil, perched atop the central head of the monstrous pitbull, let out a maniacalugh that echoed through the cavern.


    The sound was harsh, grating on Volk''s ears like nails on a chalkboard.


    GRAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!!


    Zenveil''s voice was filled with twisted glee, theughter bubbling up from deep within his chest.


    His hands moved in quick, precise gestures, each motion apanied by a sharp crackle of energy.


    The air around him seemed to vibrate with power, the very stones of the cavern quaking in response to hismand.


    "That''s it!"


    Zenveil shouted, his voice rising in pitch as hisughter grew louder.


    "That''s it! That''s the only thing you should do against the superior race! My Warlock race!"


    The words hit Volk like a physical blow, his mind reeling as Zenveil''s voice filled every corner of his consciousness.


    "Your job was to serve us," Zenveil continued, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Despair in our presence and tremble before our power!"


    Volk could feel the truth of Zenveil''s words in every fiber of his being.


    His muscles quivered uncontrobly.


    He could feel the terror wing at his insides, like some primal instinct to flee screaming in his mind. But there was nowhere to run.


    Nowhere to hide from the cave of this Catb!


    Zenveil''s voice took on a mocking tone as he continued his speech, his words cutting through Volk''s fear like a knife.


    "This is what happens to Orcs who dare to defy a superior race!"


    Zenveil spat, his eyes gleaming with malevolent delight.


    "This is the fate of those who challenge their betters. Look at yourselves! To us, you''re all nothing but insects, trembling before my might!"


    Volk''s heart sank as he looked around at the other Orcs.


    Their fear was palpable, one could see their bodies slowly huddling together like a group of frightened children.


    Their eyes were wide with terror, and their hands shaking uncontrobly as they clung to their weapons for dear life. But those weapons were useless now.


    The Orcs'' once mighty strength had been sapped away, leaving them vulnerable and weak.


    "Because now," Zenveil continued, his voice growing louder, more triumphant, "from the fifth Mag''Durotan body of Dozer, I stand before you in my Grum-gar form, just like all of you! But I am nowparable to a 21st Mender of Orc''s Mag''Durotan!"


    Volk''s blood ran cold at Zenveil''s words.


    The 21st Mender among the Orcs was a nightmare, a warrior whose power was unmatched low level Mag''Durotan like him. And now, Zenveil was iming to have achieved that same level of power.


    "YES!" Zenveil roared, his voice echoing through the cavern like a thunderp. "YES! THIS IS THE POWER OF US WARLOCKS! WE EXTEND YOUR POWERS TO TOP NOTCHES ONCE WE GOT A HOLD OF YOUR BODIES!"


    Zenveil''s eyes locked onto Volk''s, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "And you," Zenveil sneered, "you and your pathetic horde are nothingpared to me! Not a single one of you has even awakened your Third Grum-gar Mutation! HAHAHAHAHA!"


    Theughter that followed was a sound of pure evil, a twisted, mockingugh that sent shivers down Volk''s spine.


    As if on cue, the Grum-gar forms of the other Orcs began to fadepletely, their bodies shrinking back to their normal sizes.


    The power that had once surged through their veins was gone, reced by a crushing sense of helplessness.


    The fear in their eyes was undeniable now, an overwhelming terror that gripped them with iron chains.


    Some Orcs dropped their weapons, with them cold steels ttering to the ground as their hands shook too violently to hold on.


    Others simply fell to their knees, with their bodies wracked with uncontroble shivers.


    They were broken, their spirits crushed beneath the weight of Zenveil''s power.


    Volk was the only one left in his Grum-gar form, his body still swollen with muscle and rage. But even he couldn''t escape the fear that gripped his heart.


    His eyes were wide with terror as he stared up at the monstrous creature before him.


    Zenveil''s words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the overwhelming power that stood against him.


    Why was he so afraid?


    The question tore at Volk''s mind, a gnawing doubt that threatened to consume him.


    Was it because he knew, deep down, that he was just like the other Orcs?


    That his Grum-gar form, no matter how powerful it seemed, was just a facade?


    Volk''s thoughts raced back to the words Grak''thor had spoken to him long ago.


    A Labor Orc like you¡­ can only mutate twice.


    The words haunted him since then, a constant reminder of his limitations.


    The other Orcs could grow stronger over time, their mutations increasing with each battle. But Volk? He was stuck.


    Trapped in the body of a Labor Orc, with his potential capped at the second mutation because he is just a Labor Orc.


    It is the Labor Orcs curse!


    So Volk''s limit was two.


    He was nothing.


    All his triumph, all his achievement will be nothing one day.


    That''s what Volk fears the most!


    That''s what he fears from the very bottom of his heart.


    But he knew this fear wasn''t new. It was old, ancient, a deep-seated terror that had haunted him his entire life.


    Back on Earth, Volk had been in a wheelchair.


    He had a weak and vulnerable body.


    An easy prey for those who sought to hurt him. His cousin''s boyfriend had been one of those people, a cruel man who had taken pleasure in tormenting him.


    The abuse had gone on for years, leaving Volk scarred both physically and mentally.


    When Volk had finally gathered the courage to report the abuse, his cousin had turned on him, defending her boyfriend with all her might.


    The betrayal had cut deep, leaving Volk more isted and broken than ever.


    He had tried to fight back, but every attempt had ended in failure.


    Constant punch in the stomach, even if he fights back, it''s useless.


    Each defeat had added anotheryer to the fear that now gripped his heart.


    The boyfriend''s taunts echoed in Volk''s mind, a constant reminder of his weakness.


    "I''m superior to you because I''m not disabled like you," the boyfriend had sneered, the words cutting Volk to the bone.


    "There''s nothing you can do to stop me, so don''t take my girlfriend''s time too much because she is only for me to enjoy. Heh! Ooooh¡­ I''m gonna bang your cousin and make sure you listen carefully because I know you won''t be able to enjoy something like that! Hahahaha!"


    The fear had only grown over time, feeding on itself until it became a part of Volk''s very being.


    He had been powerless then, just as he was now.


    The only thing that had saved him back then was his uncle, a man who had stepped in to protect Volk when no one else would. But there was no one to save him now.


    No one to protect him from the monster that stood before him.


    The fear twisted in Volk''s gut, making him want to curl up and hide.


    His unconscious could feel that he was just as powerless now as he had been back then.


    Just as weak.


    Zenveil''s voice cut through Volk''s thoughts like a knife, sounding more sharp and cruel than ever.


    "What''s wrong, leader? Don''t use you want to fight back? Do you want this to end like this without any kind of twist for the sake of my fun for my awespiring revival?"


    Zenveil taunted, his tone dripping with malice.


    "Give it up! There''s no adult Orc here to save you. No one to protect you from me. You''re alone, and you''re weak. Krahahahha!!"

 Chapter 52: Taunting more

    With cruel delight, Zenveil could see the fear in the annoying hazardous orc''s eyes.


    It was intoxicating, a delicious thrill that sent shivers of pleasure down Zenveil''s spine. But it''s not enough, he wanted Volk to be fully consumed by fear and turn into his normal Orc form!


    He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, sinister whisper that echoed through the cavern like a death knell.


    "Thank me," Zenveil hissed, his wordsced with venom.


    "Thank me for what I''ve done for you, little green buzzwark. You should be on your knees, groveling in gratitude for the mercy I''ve shown.


    "Do you know why you''re still alive? Why are you still standing in your Grum-gar form when all yourrades have reverted back to their pathetic, weak selves?"


    Volk''s mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, his thoughts too jumbled to form a coherent response.


    His heart pounded in his chest, with rapid thudding drowning out all rational thought.


    He could only stare up at Zenveil, with his body frozen in ce as the Warlock continued to speak.


    "It''s because of me, little guy," Zenveil continued, his voice a twisted blend of pride and malice.


    "I stopped Dozer from killing you all. He wanted to, you know. He wanted to rip you to shreds, to bathe in the blood of your pathetic horde because he can turn into a Grum-gar form after eating a whole lot of like your hornless Orc race. But I stopped him. I held him back, kept him in check. Why?


    Because I wanted to savor this moment. I want to see you all think that you have chances and see the look on your face when you realize just how powerless you really are."


    Volk''s body trembled as Zenveil''s words sank in, the truth of them twisting like a knife in his gut.


    It wasn''t just the physical pain that tore at him, but the sheer hopelessness of his situation.


    The knowledge that Zenveil had the power to end him at any moment, and yet he chose to keep him alive, to draw out his suffering. It was more than Volk could bear.


    Zenveil''s voice grew louder, moremanding as he straightened up, towering over Volk with a terrifying presence.


    "You''re nothing, hazardous Orc leader," he spat, his eyes narrowing with contempt.


    "Just a weak, sniveling Labor Orc who''s deluded himself into thinking he''s something more like a leader. But you''re not. You''re nothing but a coward, hiding behind your Grum-gar form, hoping it will somehow make you stronger. But it won''t, hazardous Orc. It never will."


    Volk''s mind shed back to his life on Earth, the memories of his helplessness flooding his senses.


    The wheelchair.


    The abuse.


    The constant reminder of his inferiority.


    The always need to be saved by someone.


    The fear that had controlled him for so long, that had kept him in chains even when he tried to fight back.


    It was the same fear that now gripped his heart, the same fear that paralyzed him as Zenveil loomed above.


    Zenveil''s eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he watched the fear y out on Volk''s face. He could see the Orc''s resolve crumbling, thest vestiges of hope slipping away. And it thrilled him. He wanted more.


    "You''re nothing but a meal to me, Orcs," Zenveil sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A piece of meat, waiting to be devoured. And I''m going to enjoy every second of it."


    Volk''s breath caught in his throat as Zenveil''s words hit him like a sledgehammer.


    His mind was a storm of emotions¡ªfear, anger, helplessness¡ªall swirling together in a chaotic whirlpool.


    He wanted to fight back, to prove Zenveil wrong. But the fear was too strong.


    It had taken hold of him, rooting him in ce, sapping his strength.


    "And what''s this?" Zenveil mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.


    "You think you can still fight? You think you can stand up to me? Look at yourself, Volk. You''re trembling. You can barely keep your feet under you. What hope do you have against me?


    Against the power of a Warlock?"


    Volk''s hands clenched into fists, he hated this.


    Zenveil leaned in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.


    "Give it up, hazardous Orc leader," he hissed, his eyes boring into Volk''s with an intensity that made his blood run cold.


    "Give in to the fear. Let it consume you. Turn back into a normal Orc and ept your fate. Let me start my feast with all of your Orc friends. There''s nothing you can do to stop me but only watch me devour them one by one!"


    Volk''s body trembled uncontrobly, the fear coursing through him like a poison was making him shrink.


    Zenveil''s grin widened as he saw the despair in Volk''s eyes, thest traces of resistance fading away. "That''s it," he whispered, his voice a low, taunting purr. "Give up, hazardous Orc leader. There''s no point in fighting. You''re just prolonging the inevitable. You can''t win.


    You never could."


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest, the fear gripping him tighter and tighter, until it felt like he couldn''t breathe.


    Zenveil''sughter echoed through the cavern, a sound of pure, unadulterated evil. "This is your end, little hazard orc," he dered, his voice ringing with finality.


    "Yourst moment of defiance. And then you''ll be nothing but a memory, a forgotten footnote in the annals of history. Just another Orc who dared to challenge a Warlock and paid the price."


    Volk''s vision blurred as the fear slowly consumed him.


    He could feel thest vestiges of his strength slipping away, the power of his Grum-gar form fading into nothingness.


    He was on the brink of giving up, of surrendering to the fear, to death, when a memory shed through his mind.


    It was a memory of his uncle, the man who had saved him from the abuse of his cousin''s boyfriend.


    His uncle had been a towering figure, a man of immense strength and courage.


    He had protected Volk when no one else would, had stood up for him when he was too afraid to stand up for himself. And in that moment, Volk remembered the words his uncle had spoken to him.


    "Don''t ever let fear control you, Volk," his uncle had said, his voice firm and unwavering.


    "You''re stronger than you think. You have a strength inside you that no one can take away. Don''t let anyone make you feel weak. Don''t let them take away your power."


    The words echoed in Volk''s mind, cutting through the fog of fear like a beacon of light.


    If it were in his past life, he wouldn''t have believed in his uncle.


    After all, he is born crippled.


    However, isn''t he normal now?


    So what if he was weaker?


    Didn''t he have two hands and two strong legs?


    Yes!


    So why be afraid!


    In the past, he just wanted to punch the boyfriend of his cousin in the face if he ever got a normal body, so why should he fear anyone?


    Zenveil''sughter rang in Volk''s ears, a sound of triumph that grated on his nerves. But this time, the fear inside him suddenly felt like a breeze.


    With that breeze, a fire was ignited in his chest, a warm rage that was slowly heating.


    Zenveil''s eyes narrowed as he saw the change in Volk, the flicker of defiance that had returned to his eyes. "What''s this?" Zenveil sneered, his voiceced with irritation.


    "You think you can still fight? You think you can stand up to me?"


    Volk''s hands clenched into fists, the muscles in his arms bulging with renewed strength.


    He could feel the power of his Grum-gar form surging through him, the fear that had gripped him now slowly turning into anger, and his determination to at least break one Zenveil''s teeth was making his aura changed.


    He would be satisfied with that!


    Even if it was at least one teeth!


    Zenveil''s expression darkened as he saw the resolve in Volk''s eyes, the strength that had returned to his body.


    "You''re making a mistake, little green buzzwark," Zenveil warned, his voice low and dangerous.


    "You''re only prolonging your suffering."


    But Volk didn''t listen.


    He wasn''t afraid anymore.


    His eyes were green, deep seething and were slowly deepening.


    Zenveil''s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, the grin fading from his face. "No," he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "This can''t be¡­"


    But it was.


    Suddenly, Volk''s body pulsed with destructive power.


    | Ding!


    | The host has borrowed the power of rage, making the host twice stronger, faster and bigger.


    | Time Deduction: 30 seconds.


    | Current time duration: 6 minutes and 7 seconds. |

 Chapter 53: RAGE! RAGE! RAGE!

    Volk stood there, panting heavily, as the dust settled around him.


    His chest heaved with each breath, and his muscles bulged, throbbed with the strengthened destructive muscle of his Radioactive form.


    He could still feel the remnants of fear gnawing at the edges of his consciousness, but it was overshadowed by something far more potent: rage.


    Pure, unadulterated rage that coursed through his veins, rippling like moltenva, ready to explode and cause an extinction to all.


    Volk nced down at the timer on his system interface. His eyes widened in surprise.


    Last time, he had only five minutes in his Radioactive form, but now¡­ now he had seven minutes.


    "How?" he thought, his mind racing. "Did I get stronger? No¡­ it must be thanks to Solluha''r. She must have done something¡­" but the one who was thinking was the Orc inside his radioactive form.


    He said, immediately, his thoughts were interrupted by a cold, mocking voice.


    "Well, well, what do we have here?"


    Zenveil''s voice slithered through the air like a serpent.


    The Warlock, perched on top of the center head of the massive three-headed dog, sneered at Volk.


    His eyes glinted with malicious glee as he observed the transformation taking ce before him.


    "It seems you''ve bulked up quite a bit, hazard Orc. Impressive. Truly, I must say, I''m almost¡­ surprised."


    He leaned forward, his grin widening. "But don''t let it get to your head, little green buzzwark. It''s nothing more than a bit of extra meat for me to chew on."


    Volk''s eyes narrowed, with his blood boiling.


    The Warlock''s taunts only fueled the fire within him. His muscles immediately coiled, with every fiber of his being vibrating with barely contained fury.


    He wasn''t just going to fight Zenveil.


    He was going to destroy him if he could!


    He will use it all, even if his teeth were destroyed, he will be happy with it!


    Zenveil raised a hand, and with a sinister cackle, hemanded the hulking beast beneath him to attack. "Time to exercise my jaw!" he roared.


    The three-headed dog, a monstrous creation of flesh and dark magic, lunged forward with terrifying speed, one could see immediately its three sets of jaws snapped open to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth.


    Volk braced himself.


    Grrrrr¡­


    The ground beneath him cracked and buckled as he nted his feet, preparing for the onught.


    The first head came at him from the right, jaws wide open, ready to tear him apart.


    Kabagm!


    Volk let out a thunderous roar¡ª"GRAAAAAAHHH!!"¡ªas he swung his massive fist upward.


    BOOM!


    His fist connected with the side of the beast''s head, the impact sending a shockwave through the air.


    The head snapped back, but before Volk could celebrate, the second head was already upon him.


    CRUNCH!


    The jaws mped down on Volk''s shoulder, the sharp teeth sinking into his flesh.


    Pain shot through his body, but instead of weakening him, it only made him angrier.


    "HAAARRGGHHH!!"


    His roar of pain morphed into one of fury as he drove his other fist into the beast''s neck.


    "AARRGGHH!!"


    The muscles in his arm bulged as he poured every ounce of strength into the blow.


    BANG!


    The force of the punch was immense, driving the second head backward, but the third head was quick to follow.


    It lunged at Volk''s midsection, intending to rip him apart.


    Volk reacted instinctively, GRRRRR!! twisting his body to the side as he brought his elbow crashing down onto the beast''s skull.


    THUD!


    The third head recoiled, but Zenveil''sughter echoed through the battlefield, taunting Volk. "Is that all you''ve got, little Orc?" Zenveil mocked. "You''re barely scratching the surface!"


    Volk''s vision blurred with rage. He could feel the blood seeping from the wounds on his shoulder, but the pain only served to drive him further into a berserk state.


    "UWAAAARRRGGHHH!!"


    He roared again, the sound reverberating through the air as he charged at the beast.


    Each step he took shook the ground, cracks spider webbing outward from where his feetnded.


    KAGAM!


    The three-headed dog reared back, its massive ws shing through the air. Volk ducked under the swipe, his eyes zing with fury as he leaped upward.


    His fist came crashing down with a deafening BOOM!, connecting with the beast''s chest.


    The impact sent the beast staggering backward, but it quickly recovered, all three heads snapping at Volk simultaneously.


    SNAP!


    SNAP!


    SNAP!*


    Volk weaved between the attacks, his movements fueled by pure rage.


    He mmed his fists into the ground, causing the earth to erupt in a shower of rocks and debris.


    The debris pelted the beast, momentarily disorienting it, but Zenveil''sughter continued to echo in his ears.


    "You''re nothing but a brute, little buzzwark Orc! You think brute strength alone can defeat me?"


    Zenveil''s voice was dripping with contempt as he gestured with his hand.


    The beast''s wounds began to heal, the flesh knitting back together as if it had never been injured.


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest.


    The sight of the beast healing so effortlessly sent a fresh wave of rage coursing through him.


    "VOOOLLLLKKK NOOOOOOT LITTTLEEEEE!!!"


    He could feel his control slipping, the primal instincts of the Radioactive form taking over. His vision tinged red as he let out a feral growl, his muscles straining against the limits of his form.


    Zenveilughed, "HAHA You are little!!!"


    The three-headed dog lunged at him again, but this time, Volk was ready. He sidestepped the attack, his movements faster, more precise than before.


    He swung his fist in a wide arc, connecting with the beast''s ribs with a sickening CRACK!


    The beast howled in pain, AAAARRGHH!! but Zenveil''s voice cut through the noise.


    "Pathetic! You''re still just a toy for me to y with!" Zenveil taunted, his voice filled with glee.


    Volk''s blood boiled.


    GRRRR!!!


    "VOOOLLLLKK NOT PATHEEEEETIC!!!"


    The Warlock''s words were like gasoline on the fire of his rage. He could feel the power of his Radioactive form growing, the raw energy surging through his veins.


    Zenveilughed again, "YOU ARE WEAK!!"


    UWWAARRGGHH!!


    With a roar that shook the very ground beneath him, Volk charged at the beast, his fists a blur of motion.


    BANG! BANG! BANG!


    Each punchnded with bone-shattering force, driving the beast back step by step. But no matter how much damage Volk inflicted, the beast kepting, its wounds healing almost as fast as they were made.


    ''AAAAAAAAARRRGHHHHHH!!"


    Volk''s fury reached a fever pitch. He could feel the timer ticking down, the seconds slipping away. He needed to finish this, and fast.


    But the beast was relentless. Itshed out with its ws, catching Volk across the chest. SLASH!


    The pain was excruciating, but Volk didn''t falter. He brought his fists crashing down on the beast''s head, the impact sending tremors through the ground.


    Zenveil''sughter filled the air. "Is that the best you can do, little orc? I expected more from you!"


    Volk''s growl rumbled deep in his chest.


    GRRRRRR!!!


    He could feel the anger boiling over, pushing him to the brink. He wasn''t going to let Zenveil win fast!


    With a final, earth-shattering roar, Volk unleashed all his strength in a flurry of punches, RAAAAGGH!! RAAAGGHH!! RAAAGGH!! each onending with the force of a sledgehammer.


    BOOM!


    BOOM!


    BOOM!


    The beast staggered under the onught, but it wasn''t enough.


    Volk could see the wounds healing, the beast''s strength returning. He could feel his own strength waning, the timer ticking down to the final moments.


    And then, with a roar of its own, the beast retaliated. Its jaws snapped shut around Volk''s torso, lifting him off the ground.


    CRUNCH!


    The pain was blinding, but Volk''s rage was stronger. He grabbed hold of the beast''s jaws, prying them apart with sheer brute force. His muscles strained, his veins bulging as he forced the beast to release him.


    BANG!


    Volk hit the ground hard, but he was back on his feet in an instant. He could feel the blood trickling down his body, the wounds stinging with every movement. But he didn''t care.


    All he cared about was taking Zenveil down.


    The Warlock watched from atop the beast, his grin fading slightly as he saw the determination in Volk''s eyes. "You should be dead by now," Zenveil muttered, his voiceced with frustration. "Why won''t you just die?"


    Volk responded with a RAAAAAGGAAHAHH!! He didn''t have the time or the energy for words. He was focused, his mind set on one goal: bringing Zenveil to his knees.


    And then, in the midst of the chaos, a notification shed across Volk''s vision.


    He blinked, momentarily distracted by the words that appeared before him.


    | Ding!


    | Would you like to use Nuclear Devastation Strike? |


    Volk''s mind raced. He had never seen this option before. But the name alone was enough to send a thrill of anticipation through him.


    He quickly nced at the options that appeared beneath the notification.


    | 1. Nuclear Devastation Botanical Strike: (10)


    | 2. Nuclear Devastation Wind Strike: (6)


    | 3. Nuclear Devastation Earth Strike: (3)


    | 4. Nuclear Devastation Water Strike: (3) |

 Chapter 54: Spore Bomb

    Volk''s heart raced as he stood before Zenveil, his body trembling with fury and determination.


    He didn''t know what was driving him to choose the wind-based attack, but something within him yearned to see Zenveil hurled through the air like a rag doll.


    Without thinking, Volk balled his massive fist, and suddenly, a transparent swirl of wind began to encase it, shimmering with a strange energy he had never felt before.


    His eyes widened, but before he could fullyprehend what was happening, his voice boomed throughout the cave, as if on instinct:


    "NUCLEAR DEVASTATION WIND STRIKE!" He shouted in his Grum-gar form, "GALE BOMB!"


    BOOM!


    His fist shot forward, smashing into the air with an earth-shattering sound, but the impact didn''t reach Zenveil.


    Instead, a brilliant magic circle shed into existence between them, glowing a bright white with intricate designs of swirling blue lines weaving through it.


    It hovered in the air for a brief moment before vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared.


    For a split second, silence filled the cavern, and then Zenveil''s maniacalughter echoed through the walls, reverberating like a haunting melody.


    "Kakakakakakakaka!"


    Zenveil howled, hisughter almost hysterical.


    He looked down at Volk with mocking eyes, a sneer of condescension painted on his twisted face.


    "Oh, this is rich! You think magic is that simple, Orc? Do you even understand the first thing about how this works?"


    Volk, still seething with anger, felt his frustration mounting as Zenveil continued to taunt him.


    The Warlock raised his hand, gesturing grandly as though he were a teacher addressing a clueless student.


    His voice dripped with arrogance as he began to exin.


    "Magic is not just about brute force, little buzzwark Orc. It''s not something you can simply will into existence. Magic requires control, mastery, and a deep understanding of its nature.


    "You don''t just snap your fingers and summon the winds! Kakaka! No, no, no. It takes years-of-years-of-years of study, practice, and most importantly, integration with magical beasts."


    Zenveil''s words oozed with disdain as he went on.


    "You see, we Warlocks are far beyond anything your simple mind couldprehend. To use a beast''s unique magic, we must first hunt the creature, extract the magical core from its body, and then fuse it with our own essence.


    "Only through this painstaking process can we gain ess to the magic that creature once held. And even then, we must study the limits and strengths of the magic we''ve stolen to wield it effectively."


    Volk''s eyes narrowed as he listened to Zenveil''s lecture.


    The words felt like needles piercing his pride, but his anger was focused elsewhere.


    While Zenveil''s voice droned on, Volk''s gaze shifted to the system interface that had appeared before him.


    | Ding!


    | Nuclear Main Vessel elemental mana mastery of Nuclear Wind Mana is too low. |


    Volk scowled.


    That exined why the attack hadn''t worked.


    He wasn''t skilled enough in controlling the Nuclear Wind Mana yet. His fists clenched tightly, his mind racing.


    What should he do now?


    There had to be something else, right?


    | Ding!


    | Avable attack: Nuclear Devastation Botanical Strike. It is level ten mastery. |


    Volk''s brow furrowed in confusion. "Botanical?" he thought.


    He had no idea what kind of attack that was, but if the system said it had high mastery, it was worth a try.


    Before he could fully grasp the idea, Zenveil''s mocking voice cut through his thoughts once more.


    "Well? Are you going to try again? Or have you finally realized just how outmatched you are?"


    Zenveil taunted, his tone dripping with condescension. The Warlock waved his hand dismissively.


    "Come on, try harder, Orc. Give me a real challenge, if you can!"


    The taunt hit Volk like a p to the face. His entire body tensed, and a growl rumbled deep within his chest, vibrating through the cave.


    His radioactive form seemed to pulse with anger, the green energy surrounding him flickering wildly. He couldn''t hold back any longer.


    "NO ONE UNDERESTIMATES VOLK!!!" he roared, his voice so loud that it shook the very stones of the cavern.


    His fury was a tangible force, and even Zenveil seemed momentarily taken aback by the intensity of Volk''s rage.


    But Zenveil''s surprise was short-lived. His mockingughter only grew louder, more grating. "Kakakakaka! You think shouting will change anything? Pathetic!"


    Volk''s eyes zed with rage as he thrust his fist forward again, Bang! this time with the intention of unleashing the Botanical Strike.


    A new magic circle appeared, deep green and pulsating with a strange, earthy energy.


    As the circle spun in the air, Volk felt something building, something far more dangerous than before.


    SWOOSH!


    | Ding! You have created an attack!


    | Nuclear Devastation Botanical Strike: Spore Bomb.


    A twisted smile spread across Volk''s radioactive form face.


    His radioactive form seemed to glow brighter as he stared Zenveil down.


    He raised his fist high, the energy swirling around it like a storm.


    "SPOOOOOORE¡ª"


    The magic circle began to pulse faster, and Volk''s voice boomed through the cave as he finished the attack''s name.


    "BOOOOOMMMBBB!!!"


    BANG!


    Suddenly, a cloud of strange, chemical-like spores appeared out of thin air.


    The spores swirled around Volk''s fist before shooting forward like a gust of wind, aimed directly at Zenveil and the three-headed dog beneath him.


    Swoosh!


    The spores moved with unnatural speed, surrounding the beast and Zenveil in an instant.


    Zenveil, initially unfazed, waved his hand dismissively, a bored expression on his face.


    "What is this? Some kind of dust?"


    He chuckled, shaking his head as if Volk''s attack were nothing more than a joke.


    But then, something unexpected happened.


    The three heads of the monstrous dog began to twitch.


    One of the heads sniffed the air and let out a small sneeze.


    Ahchoo!


    Zenveil frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What¡­?"


    Ahchoo!


    Ahchoo!


    The sneezes grew louder and more frequent.


    Soon, all three heads were sneezing uncontrobly, their massive bodies shaking with each convulsion.


    The sneezes grew stronger, more violent, and Zenveil, now clearly rmed, shifted in his seat atop the beast.


    "What is happening?! Why won''t it stop?!"


    Volk watched in amusement as the sneezing fit overtook Zenveil''s monstrouspanion.


    The Warlock''s confident grin hadpletely disappeared, reced by a look of bewilderment and growing frustration.


    But the sneezes weren''t the only thing happening. Zenveil''s expression shifted again, this time to one of difort.


    He shifted ufortably in his seat, wincing as if something wasn''t quite right.


    "What¡­?"


    Zenveil muttered, his voice trailing off as he squirmed. His eyes widened in realization.


    Something was very, very wrong.


    Volk''s radioactive form grin widened as the system screen popped up in front of him, revealing the effect of histest attack.


    | Ding!


    | Spore Bomb effect: Random spore activated.


    | Current spore effect: Laxative. |


    Volk burst intoughter.


    "GRUHAHAHAHAHA!!"


    He couldn''t help it.


    The mighty Warlock, the self-proimed superior being, was now battling not just Volk, but his own body.


    The sight of Zenveil, squirming atop his beast, unable to control the sneezing three-headed monster beneath him, was more than Volk could have hoped for.


    Zenveil''s face twisted in a mix of fury and horror as he realized what was happening. "Y-you¡­ YOU DID THIS!" he screamed, his voice high-pitched and panicked.


    Volk nodded, stillughing, his massive form shaking with mirth.


    "VOLK FOUND WARLOCK FUNNY, GRUHAHAHAHAHA!"


    Zenveil''s body tensed, his muscles spasming uncontrobly as he tried to maintain control of the situation. But no matter how hard he tried, the sneezes from the three-headed dog and the¡­ other effects were too much for him to handle.


    For a brief moment, Volk allowed himself to revel in the small victory.


    The mighty Warlock, so full of arrogance and superiority, was now reduced to a squirming, sneezing mess. But Volk knew this was far from over.


    Zenveil might be humiliated now, but the battle wasn''t won yet.


    Volk cracked his knuckles, his eyes narrowing as he prepared for the next phase.


    "VOLK NOT DONE!"


    He took a deep breath, focusing his mind.


    There was still more power within him.


    The Nuclear Devastation Strike had more to offer, and Volk was ready to tap into all of it!

 Chapter 55: VOLK MAGIC

    The air in the cave felt heavy, filled with the aftermath of the magic Volk had unleashed.


    The strange green spores that had filled the cavern now floated like harmless dust, lingering in the stillness that followed.


    Slowly, one by one, the Orcs who had been frozen in fear began to stir, their eyes blinking open as if waking from a nightmare.


    At first, they were confused, ncing at one another, their faces filled with a mix of terror and bewilderment.


    Each Orc had remembered they had transformed into their fearsome Grum-gar forms, their bodies hulking and monstrous, but now, they became an Orc again.


    But they couldn''t remember why.


    Thest thing they recalled was being surrounded by the oppressive energy of Zenveil''s magic, the Warlock''s terrifying presence making them feel like prey.


    But now... what had happened?


    One of the older Orcs, Gurrak, a grizzled warrior with a scar running across his face, rubbed his temples as he tried to piece together the missing moments.


    "What... what is this?" he muttered, his voice low and hoarse. "Where are we? What happened?"


    Another Orc, a younger one named Brakk, staggered to his feet, still shaking off the fog of confusion.


    "I... I remember transforming," Brakk said, his voice uncertain. "But... after that? Nothing. It''s like...


    my mind went nk."


    "Same here," said another Orc, Torgash, his eyes wide with bewilderment. "One moment, I was ready to charge... then it''s just darkness."


    They all exchanged uneasy nces, unsure of what to make of their situation.


    The cave was still dark and foreboding, but something had shifted.


    It was as though the power that had held them captive had lifted, and now, in its ce, there was a different energy¡ªone that felt wild and unpredictable.


    Suddenly, a booming voice broke through the silence.


    It came from an Orc a little farther from the group, his body still towering in his Grum-gar form, radiating an aura of immense power.


    The Orc''s muscles bulged, and his eyes glowed with a strange, almost otherworldly energy as he raised his head and shouted into the air:


    "VOLK," it shouted, making them awake to realize they are still in the cave, "THE MOST UNPREDICTABLE THERE IS!!!"


    The words echoed through the cavern like a thunderp, jolting the rest of the Orcs from their stupor.


    They turned toward the source of the voice, their eyes widening in shock.


    "Volk?" one of them whispered, disbelief clear in his voice.


    The others were equally stunned.


    They recognized the Orc standing before them¡ªit was Volk, a member of their own Dreadmaw n. But this wasn''t the same Volk they knew.


    His form was far more massive, more menacing, his entire body pulsing with a dangerous energy.


    There was something primal about him now, something... different.


    "Grum-gar form?"


    As the Orcs watched, their eyes glued to Volk, they saw him suddenly swing his fist through the air like a whip, the motion impossibly fast. And then, without warning, arge magic circle appeared before him, glowing with an eerie green light.


    "Swoosh!"


    A cloud of spores burst from the magic circle, exploding into the air and drifting toward something enormous in the distance.


    The Orcs squinted, trying to make sense of what they were seeing.


    Through the haze of the spores, they caught sight of a massive three-headed dog, its enormous frame towering over everything else in the cave.


    The sheer size of the beast sent a wave of fear through the group, but before their terror could take hold, something strange happened.


    The moment the spores touched the dog, its entire demeanor changed. At first, nothing seemed to happen.


    The dog stood still, its three heads unmoving. But then, after a few heartbeats, one of the heads¡ªthe one that resembled a vicious scarred pitbull¡ªsuddenly threw its head back and howled.


    "Woooooo!"


    The Orcs exchanged confused nces as the dog continued to howl, not in pain or anger, but in pure, unfiltered happiness.


    "Woooooo! Woooooo!"


    The head howled again and again, its eyes half-lidded in what seemed like utter bliss.


    "What... what''s happening?" one of the Orcs muttered, utterly baffled by the sight. "Why is it sounding so... happy?"


    None of them couldprehend what they were seeing.


    The massive war beast, which had been a symbol of death and destruction moments before, was now... howling with joy.


    The sight was both surreal and terrifying, after all, everyone is afraid of unknown.


    Meanwhile, Zenveil, who had been riding atop the monstrous dog, was fuming.


    His face twisted with rage as he red at Volk, his pride shredded by the absurdity of what was happening. His mouth curled into a snarl, his voice shaking with fury.


    "This... this is an abomination! How can you wield magic like this?!" Zenveil roared, his eyes burning with hatred. "Magic cannot be spammed! There are rules, preparations, and limits! You can''t just throw out attacks like they''re nothing!


    This is impossible!"


    But Volk ignored Zenveil''s rant. His attention was fixed on the system screen hovering before his eyes.


    | Ding!


    | Effect: Paradise Illusion.


    | Would you like to use another Nuclear Devastation Botanical Strike? |


    A grin spread across Volk''s face, wild and untamed. He could feel the power coursing through him, surging like a tidal wave.


    The energy of the Radioactive form amplified everything, making him feel invincible.


    Zenveil was still screaming at the top of his lungs,manding the dog to move, but it wasn''t obeying.


    One of the heads continued to howl with glee, utterly lost in the illusion, while the other two were locked in ce, confused by theirpanion''s behavior.


    "MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! DAMN YOU!" Zenveil shouted, his voice frantic, but no matter how hard he tried tomand the beast, it wouldn''t budge.


    Volk chuckled darkly, his voice low and dangerous. "FUNNY WARLOCK PUPPY¡­"


    With a swift motion, he punched the air again, his fist colliding with the atmosphere like a thunderbolt.


    Another magic circle appeared, deep green and crackling with energy.


    In an instant, another wave of spores shot forward, enveloping the massive three-headed dog.


    Zenveil''s eyes widened with horror as he watched the spores take hold. "NO! NO! NO! NOT AGAIN!"


    The spores swirled around the beast, and this time, it was the left head that reacted.


    The left head, which had been ring at Volk with fury moments before, suddenly became dazed, its movements sluggish and erratic.


    It blinked rapidly, as if trying to shake off some invisible fog.


    Then, without warning, the left head snapped toward the center, its jaws mping down on the middle head with a loud kgmraaag!


    The middle head let out a pitiful whimper, and the entire beast staggered under the force of the bite.


    Zenveil, caught off-guard by the sudden shift, was thrown from his perch atop the center dog, tumbling to the ground with a loud KABAM!


    The Orcs watching from the side were speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock. "What... what is happening?" one of them whispered, his voice barely audible.


    Volk stood tall, his chest heaving with exertion, but his smile was full of satisfaction.


    He nced at the system screen once again, reading thetest update.


    | Ding!


    | Effect: Confusion. |


    Volk''s grin widened.


    This was too good.


    He was ready to drive another punch, eager to see what the next attack would bring. But before he could move, Zenveil, now sprawled on the ground, screamed with a voice filled with pure, unadulterated rage.


    "ENOUGH!!!"


    The sheer force of Zenveil''s shout echoed through the cavern, and in an instant, an explosion of dark energy erupted from the Warlock''s body, flooding the cave with a violent shockwave.


    The ground beneath Volk''s feet trembled, and for a split second, everything was chaos.

 Chapter 56: True Origin of Orcs

    Volk''s muscles tensed as the countdown to the end of his Radioactive form loomed in his mind.


    Four minutes left.


    He felt the pressure mounting.


    Every second counted, and with each heartbeat, the sense of urgency grew.


    He had no time to think, no time to calcte his next move, no time to be distracted by chaos in front.


    His attacks were wild, chaotic, but that was all he could rely on now.


    The random nature of his strikes was his only hope.


    Maybe, just maybe, one of them would erupt and hit the Warlock hard enough to bring him down.


    He needed to spam randomly with different effects!


    Volk didn''t care about the system mission anymore.


    He didn''t care aboutpleting objectives. All that mattered was survival¡ªand making the enemy in front feel any kind of enemy.


    The mission felt like a distant echo now, drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears.


    He roared, his body glowing with radioactive energy, his fists clenched, ready to swing again.


    Yes!


    His goal wasn''t just to survive!


    He needed to hurt Zenveil!


    Break him!


    Crush him!


    Smash him!


    But as he prepared to throw another punch, something cold and solid mmed into his skull.


    KABAAM!


    Volk was sent flying across the cave, his body crashing into the rough stone wall with a sickening bang.


    He crumpled to the ground, dazed, the world spinning around him.


    Pain exploded in his skull, but before he could even recover, the ground beneath him erupted with sharp stones, spearing upwards like jagged teeth.


    SHHHHK!


    The stones pierced through his limbs, pinning him to the ground.


    They drove deep into his muscles, trapping him in ce.


    He roared in pain, GRAAAAAAHHH!! thrashing against the restraints, but the more he struggled, the deeper the stones dug into his flesh.


    His radioactive energy flickered, weakening as the minutes ticked by.


    Through the haze of pain and struggle, Volk heard the echoing voice of Zenveil.


    "I''VE EXPLODED THREE OF MY FIVE HEARTS JUST TO FREE MYSELF FROM YOUR PATHETIC TRICKS!"


    Zenveil''s voice was filled with seething fury. His words bounced off the cave walls, twisted with madness. "YOU THINK YOU CAN HUMILIATE ME, YOU DAMNED ORC?! YOU''RE NOTHING! NOTHING! I AM YOUR MASTER!"


    Volk snarled, Graaaaaa! trying to wrench himself free, but the stones held firm.


    He could hear Zenveil''s pawsteps approaching, slow and deliberate, the sound of a man savoring his victory.


    "I am your creator, little Orcs. Without me, you wouldn''t even exist." Zenveil''s voice grew closer, dripping with venom. "Do you know why? Shall I enlighten you?"


    The Warlock finally appeared in Volk''s vision, standing tall and proud, with a lower body of a three headed dog, his pale face twisted with rage.


    He looked down at Volk with disdain, his lips curling into a cruel sneer.


    Zenveil raised his paw-like hand, the grotesque appendage that controlled the massive three-headed beast that loomed behind him.


    The paw crackled with dark energy as it moved closer to Volk''s head.


    "LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, ORC. A STORY OF YOUR PATHETIC ORIGIN."


    Zenveil''s eyes gleamed with malevolence as he crouched down next to Volk, his face inches away from the pinned Orc.


    The dark particles in his paw danced wildly as he began his tale.


    "YOU ORCS... YOU WERE ONCE CREATURES FROM RANDOM RANDOM REALM, BORN WITH HORNS, BORN WITH STRENGTH. BUT YOU WERE TOO POWERFUL. TOO WILD. YOU CAN ALSO TURN INTO AN ORC DEMON FORM, THE SAME WITH YOUR GRUM-GAR FORMS CALLED DIABOLIC FORM!


    "AND WE WARLOCKS COULDN''T CONTROL YOU AS YOU WERE. SO WE TOOK YOUR HORNS. YES, YOUR PRECIOUS HORNS THAT MADE YOU STRONG! WE RIPPED THEM FROM YOUR SKULLS!"


    Zenveil cackled, his voice rising with madness.


    "WITHOUT THEM, YOU WERE WEAK, PATHETIC, JUST LIKE YOU ARE NOW. HORNLESS ORCS. BUT YOU WERE STILL TOO UNSTABLE. SO WE WARLOCKS, IN OUR INFINITE WISDOM, DECIDED TO MIX YOUR BLOOD WITH THE BLOOD OF OGRES.


    "YES, THAT''S RIGHT.


    "THE MIGHTY OGRES. IT TOOK COUNTLESS EXPERIMENTS, COUNTLESS FAILURES, BUT EVENTUALLY, WE SUCCEEDED AFTER COUNTLESS OF YEARS. WE CREATED YOU! THE ORCOGRE! FAR WEAKER THAN REAL OGRES. AND FAR WEAKER THAN THE HORNED ORCS YOU ONCE WERE."


    Zenveil''s voice dropped to a whisper, but it was no less menacing.


    "DO YOU UNDERSTAND NOW? YOU''RE NOTHING MORE THAN A SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT FOR WAR AGAINST THESE DARK WITCHES. YOU AND YOUR KIND WILL NEVER BE AS POWERFUL AS YOU COULD HAVE BEEN. YOU NEED FIVE FULL MUTATIONS JUST TO EVEN STAND A CHANCE AGAINST A REAL OGRE. BUT EVEN THEN... YOU''RE STILL JUST A WEAPON!


    A WEAPON FOR US WARLOCKS TO USE!!!"


    Volk''s vision blurred with rage.


    GRAAAAAAAHHH!!!!


    His body trembled as the radioactive energy within him surged, fighting against the pain, fighting against the humiliation.


    His mind screamed to break free, to tear Zenveil apart with his bare hands. But the stones held him tight, and the Warlock''s dark magic was seeping slowly into his skin, pinning him down.


    Zenveil''s paw hovered over Volk''s head, the dark particles swirling faster now.


    He grinned, his eyes wild with insanity.


    "And now, I''ll show you what true power looks like. Watch closely, little buzzwark Orc. I''ll inject you with a little something... a reminder of who owns you."


    Volk''s eyes widened as the paw made contact with his temple.


    The dark particles surged into his skull, filling his mind with searing pain. He roared, GRAAAAAAAA!! the sound ripping from his throat in agony, his body convulsing as the magic invaded him.


    "YES!"


    Zenveil screamed, his voice ringing with maniacal glee.


    "That''s it! SCREAM! Scream like the worthless creature you are! That''s all you''re good for! Scream for me! Scream for your master!"


    Volk''s roar grew louder, more primal, echoing through the cave like a beast being ughtered.


    His muscles bulged, straining against the stone spikes that held him, his veins pulsing with the radioactive energy that was barely keeping him alive.


    The pain was unbearable, it''s was like a white-hot fire that consumed his entire body.


    "THAT''S RIGHT! Scream more! Suffer more! That''s what all you Orcs should do! How dare you try to rise above your creators?! HOW DARE YOU HUMILIATED ME!!?


    WE made you! WE are the reason you exist! Without us, you are nothing! NOTHING! SO¡­ YOU SHOULD CALL US YOUR MASTERS!"


    Zenveil''sughter grew louder, more unhinged. He waspletely lost in his own madness now, his eyes gleaming with the twisted joy of watching Volk writhe in pain.


    But inside Volk, something was changing. Beneath the pain, beneath the agony, a new feeling was rising¡ªRAGE.


    Volk''s mind was a maelstrom of fury.


    Zenveil''s words, the torture, the humiliation¡ªit all blended together into one singr emotion.


    He had been beaten down, trapped, and humiliated, but he wasn''t finished yet.


    He wouldn''t stop.


    He couldn''t stop.


    The fire in his chest burned hotter, brighter, until it consumed everything else.


    Volk''s eyes snapped open, glowing with radioactive energy. His lips curled back into a snarl, his teeth bared in a fierce grin.


    "YOU ARE¡­NOT VOOOOOOOOOOOLK¡­MASTEEEERRR!!!" His voice was low, but it was filled with raw, untamed desire to ruin.


    Zenveil blinked, momentarily startled by the sudden shift in Volk''s demeanor. "What did you say?!" he spat, his paw tightening its grip on Volk''s head.


    But Volk didn''t answer with words. He answered with a roar¡ªa roar so loud and powerful that the very stones pinning him to the ground began to crack and crumble.


    "RAAAAAAAGHHHHH!"


    The radioactive energy surged through Volk''s body, expanding outward in a violent wave of power.


    The stones shattered under the force, and Volk exploded free from his restraints, his entire form glowing with a blinding light.


    Zenveil stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock. "NO! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!"


    But it was toote.


    Volk was beyond reason now, beyond pain.


    He was pure rage, pure destruction, and he wasing for Zenveil.


    Zenveil barely had time to scream before Volk''s fist, crackling with energy, shot forward.


    KABAM!!


    The force of the blow sent shockwaves through the cave, the very ground shaking beneath them.


    "VOLK RAMPAAAAAAAAAAAAGGEEE!!!!!!!"

 Chapter 57: Fourth Phase Mutation

    Volk''s heart was pounding in his chest as the blood of pure rage surged through his veins.


    Time was slipping away.


    He only had minutes left in his Radioactive form, but he had no choice. He needed to press on. He needed to turn this Warlock into dust!


    GROOOOOOAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!


    With a roar that reverberated off the walls, Volk leaped high into the air, with his massive legs tensing.


    His movements were impossibly fast and incredibly destructive too, as if his muscles were sucking the air around and splitting them like des that cannot even prate the muscles he had.


    The sheer force of his anger alone can make anyone suffocate.


    He spun mid-air, his legs curling up into his chest, then snapped them out with the force of a double ser kick.


    His feet mmed into Zenveil''s twisted form.


    KABAM!


    The impact sent Zenveil flying, his half-body, three-headed monstrosity crashing into the cave wall.


    The force of it was so immense that the entire cave shook violently.


    WOOOOSSSHHHSDD


    Cracks raced across the walls, splitting the stone like brittle ss, and debris began raining down from the ceiling.


    Zenveil''s beast crashed to the ground with a deafening KABOOM, the sound echoing through the underground catbs.


    Dust and debris filled the air as the cave continued to tremble under the sheer power of the attack.


    Volk, however, wasn''t finished. His blood was boiling, his fury not yet sated.


    "VOOOOOOLLLKKKK!" he screamed, his voice shaking the earth beneath him.


    "CRAAAAAASSSSSHHH!!!" He roared again,unching himself toward the crumpled figure of Zenveil.


    Volk''s vision was red with rage, his mind clouded with the desire to destroy.


    He wasn''t sure how he was doing this.


    How was he still standing?


    Still fighting?


    He had never felt this kind of raw, unchecked power before.


    As the dust settled around him, a familiar sound rang in his ears.


    Ding!


    The system message shed in front of his eyes, its words glowing with an ominous light:


    | The host has borrowed the power of rage, making the host twice stronger, faster, and bigger.


    | Time Deduction: 1 minute.


    | Current time duration: 3 minutes and 7 seconds. |


    Volk blinked, the realization dawning on him. "Is this... why?" he mumbled under his breath. "But I''ve only mutated three times..."


    His thoughts raced. His form shouldn''t be this powerful.


    It shouldn''t be able to do this.


    In the Grum-gar form, three mutations meant he should have the strength of the 11th Mag''Durotan, not this... whatever this was. But this system, this strange mutation, wasn''t like the Grum-gar form.


    It was different.


    Before Volk could fully process what was happening, Zenveil''s form began to stir.


    The Warlock, battered and bruised, staggered to his feet. His body was shaking, and blood trickled from his nose and mouth.


    His once confident sneer was now twisted in confusion and fear. He stared at Volk in disbelief.


    "WHAT... WHAT IS GOING ON?!" Zenveil''s voice trembled, cracking with a mix of rage and terror.


    "YOU DIDN''T EXPLODE?! YOU AWAKENED THREE TIMES, BUT IF YOU REALLY MUTATED BY SHEER LUCK, YOUR STRENGTH SHOULD ONLY BE AT THE LEVEL OF THE 11TH MAG''DUROTAN! SO WHY? AND HOW ARE YOU... STRONGER THAN ME?!"


    Volk didn''t have an answer.


    His own mind was racing, trying to figure out how this was possible. His eyes flicked to the system screen still hovering before him.


    | The host has borrowed the power of rage, making the host twice stronger, faster, and bigger. |


    "Don''t tell me¡­" Volk muttered, piecing it together. His Radioactive form wasn''t bound by the same limitations as the Grum-gar form.


    In Grum-gar, he would''ve risen from 3rd Mag''Durotan, then slowly worked his way up to the 5th, 7th and 11th. But in this form... this was something else entirely.


    Could it be that different from Grum-gar, his Radioactive form, from 3rd Mag''Durotan, became 6th, then 12th and then 22nd Mag''Durotan!?


    "Is it... skipping ranks?"


    Volk thought aloud, his mind reeling.


    If this was true, then his strength wasn''t climbing gradually. His power was leaping¡ªdoubling¡ªexponentially¡ªwith every surge of rage.


    "Could I be¡­really¡­ 22nd Mag''Durotan...?"


    He snapped his gaze to Zenveil, his eyes widening in shock. "After all... Zenveil... Said he was only at 21st Mag''Durotan...!"


    Zenveil''s face paled at Volk''s aura. There''s no mistake, even though Volk only mutated three times, he could feel that Volk was now slightly stronger.


    His eyes flicked with fear, trying to process what he was hearing.


    "NO!" he screamed, as if denying the truth would make it disappear.


    But before he could react, he reached for thest desperate card he had.


    Immediately, he exploded one of his two remaining hearts, and the surge of dark energy instantly propelled him toward Volk.


    His paw mmed down on Volk''s forehead again, dark magic seeping from his fingers.


    "I refuse to believe that you can mutate four times! You''ll lose control like all the others until you ultimately exploded into thousand pieces like others!!"


    Zenveil''s voice was shrill, a frantic edge to his words. He grinned, but one could see his eyes were wide and shining with desperation.


    "This time, I''ll make sure you don''t evolve again! Now, break, into thousand PIEEEECESSSSS!!!!!"


    The dark particles of magic seeped deeper into Volk''s skull, wing at his mind. Zenveil''s n was simple: overwhelm Volk''s body and force his unstable form to copse under the weight of its own mutations.


    He had done it before, with other Orcs who had dared to evolve too far.


    They all ended the same way¡ªexploded into bloody pieces, unable to control the power surging within them.


    But as Zenveil''s dark magic coiled around Volk''s brain, something unexpected happened.


    | Ding!


    Another system message appeared before Volk''s eyes:


    | The host has borrowed the power of rage, making the host twice stronger, faster, and bigger.


    | Time Deduction: 2 minutes.


    | Current time duration: 1 minute and 7 seconds. |


    Volk felt it immediately.


    His body expanded, his muscles bulging, veins pulsing with radioactive energy.


    His skin stretched as his size increased, his very bones crackling under the pressure of the power coursing through him.


    Zenveil''s confidence shattered.


    His n¡ªhis ultimate scheme¡ªwas crumbling right before his eyes.


    Volk was evolving again.


    "NO!" Zenveil stumbled backward, his face twisted in terror.


    "IMPOSSIBLE!!!"


    His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing in shallow gasps. He watched in horror as Volk''s body grewrger, more monstrous, more unstoppable.


    Volk''s lips curled into a smile as the realization finally dawned on him.


    He wasn''t bound by the Grum-gar form''s limitations. His power wasn''t that of a mutated Orc. He was something different. Something more.


    "It''s not Grum-gar¡­ It''s Radioactive!" Volk''s voice boomed through his mind, yet even it was in his mind, his deep growl shook the very ground beneath him.


    Zenveil took another shaky step back, his eyes wide with fear. "No... this cannot be happening...!"


    Volk raised his massive hand, his fingers curling into a fist the size of a boulder.


    His body radiated with raw power, his muscles coiling with the force of a bomb ready to explode.


    "VOOOOOOOOLLLLLKKKKK!!!"


    His shout echoed through the cave, the ground trembling beneath the sheer volume of his voice.


    Rocks began to fall from the ceiling, cracks spreading across the walls like spiderwebs.


    Zenveil panicked.


    He began to spam attacks, flinging every spell, every curse, every shred of dark magic he could summon.


    Yet it became all not that effective.


    The air around them crackled with dark energy, but Volk''s body absorbed it all.


    "NO! NO! NO!"


    Zenveil shrieked, his voice high-pitched and frantic. His attacks were useless. They bounced off Volk''s impossibly tough muscles, harmlessly dissipating like sparks against steel.


    Volk''s smile widened, his eyes locked on Zenveil.


    "SQUUAAAASSSSHHH!" Volk roared, bringing his massive fist crashing down.


    KABOOM!


    The ground shattered beneath Zenveil''s feet as Volk''s fist collided with the earth. Zenveil screamed, but his voice was drowned immediately by Volk''s destructive fists.


    SPLAAAAATTTT!!

 Chapter 58: TIMES CHANGED

    Volk stood over the remains of Zenveil, his chest heaving withbored breaths, with his mind also clouded in a haze of rage.


    He could feel his muscles were swollen with unnatural power, they were pulsating with radioactive energy that coursed through his veins, wildly.


    He looked down at the mangled, sttered remains of Zenveil, his half-body crushed into the ground like pulp, the three heads of the monstrous dog ttened beneath Volk''s relentless strikes.


    There was nothing left but the twitching remains of Zenveil''s final heart, still beating faintly amidst the destruction he caused to its whole body.


    Immediately, Volk''s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles cracked audibly and splitting the air around absentmindedly.


    His teeth were bared in an uncontroble snarl as his mind wanted him to rampage!


    GRRRRRR¡­.


    He should have been satisfied. The Warlock was defeated, destroyed utterly, but inside, all Volk could feel was rage.


    "VOOOOOOLLLKKKKK" Volk radioactive form roared, and his voice echoed violently like a thunderp through the crumbling catbs.


    His chest vibrated with the force of it, but no amount of screaming seemed to quell the storm within him.


    He didn''t understand why he was so angry.


    Everything was supposed to be over.


    He should have felt victorious.


    Volk should be the winner¡ªright?


    However, instead, he felt a deep, crawling dissatisfaction in his spine, and it was too slow, making him felt an endless feeling of irritation.


    A primal fury that only seemed to grow stronger the more he thought about what had just happened.


    His body trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the unrelenting wave of frustration that surged through him.


    "Why did I hesitate earlier?" he growled to himself inside his head, his eyes narrowing as he reyed the battle in his mind.


    That hesitation earlier, that fear...


    It had gripped him like a vice.


    For a moment, he''d felt weak¡ªlike he was back on Earth, crippled, powerless, helpless.


    The sensation made him want to tear the world apart.


    He had doubted himself, doubted his power.


    He had let fear creep into his heart when he should have trusted the system that gave him strength.


    "What is that fear?! What is that hesitation!?" he bellowed. His voice cracked, reverberating through the nervous system.


    His fists shook, trembling with unspent fury.


    He should have embraced his power from the start.


    He should have relished in it, unleashed it without restraint.


    Instead, he had let Zenveil make him doubt himself, and now, as he stood over the Warlock''s ruined body, all he felt was disgust.


    "SMAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSHHHHHH!!!!"


    Volk roared again, louder this time, his voice echoing with such intensity that the walls around him trembled.


    Cracks spider-webbed further up the cavern''s ceiling as if the sheer force of his voice could bring the whole structure down.


    Meanwhile, Zenveil, clutching hisst heart, barely clinging to life, trembled in disbelief.


    Hey sprawled amidst the remains of the three-headed beast, his mind reeling. "How is this possible...?" he muttered, his voice weak and broken.


    His eyes flickered with disbelief. "He awakened mutation phase four times...!"


    Zenveil''s voice became a raspy whisper, barely audible. "It... it shouldn''t be possible. No one... no one evolves that many times... not even by luck!"


    His trembling fingers dug into the flesh of his dying heart, desperately trying to hold on to whatever semnce of life he had left.


    But then, he heard Volk''s voice again, louder, more monstrous than ever.


    "AAARRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"


    Zenveil''s heart lurched in his chest.


    The ground shook violently, a force beyondprehension.


    He tried to crawl away, his broken body dragging itself futilely across the ground, hoping to survive, hoping to escape¡ªanywhere, even if it''s only a one percent chance, he wanted to.


    Even though he knew, deep down, it was toote.


    "NOOO!!!" Zenveil screamed, "THIS ISN''T WHAT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!!! WE ARE YOUR MASTERS!!! IN THE HISTORY AND NOW, NO WARLOCK COULD BE BEATEN BY HIS CREATION, NEVER!!!!!" but his cry was cut short.


    However, Volk''s growl was heard.


    "TIIIIIIIIME''S CHAAAAAAAANGED WARLOCCCKK SMAAAAALLL!!!!!!!"


    Volk''s fist came crashing down, mming into Zenveil''s remains with the force of a mountain.


    KABAM!


    The Warlock''s remaining heart shattered instantly, his body immediately turned into nothing more than a smear of blood and flesh on the cold, hard ground.


    The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the cave, causing the walls to tremble even more violently.


    Stones tumbled from the ceiling as the ground quaked under Volk''s wrath.


    But Volk wasn''t done. Not even close.


    He raised his fists again, the rage still coursing through him like wildfire.


    He didn''t care about strategy or tactics anymore.


    His mind was nk with fury.


    He mmed his fists into the ground repeatedly, over and over again, with no care for the destruction he was causing.


    "BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!"


    Each impact made the entire catb shake as if the very earth was protesting the sheer force of his blows.


    The ground beneath Zenveil''s remains crumbled further, pulverized into dust and debris.


    The rocks above groaned, and the walls around him seemed on the verge of copse, but Volk didn''t care.


    He couldn''t stop. He wouldn''t stop.


    Meanwhile, in a little far section of the catbs, Lhum''Baggar, Grashk, Grok''Thar, and the rest of the Dreadmaw n Orcs were wide awake now, their eyes wide with disbelief.


    They had felt the tremors, heard the thunderous crashes, and now they knew what was happening.


    It was Volk.


    Their leader was the one battling in the depths of the cave.


    And his opponent?


    Warlock Zenveil.


    The very Warlock who had taken control of the dungeon boss, a monstrous, three-headed creature, a descendant of the legendary Cerberus, named Dozer.


    The Orcs exchanged nervous nces as the walls shook violently around them.


    They could barelyprehend the power they were witnessing.


    "BAM! BAM! BAM!"


    The sounds of Volk''s fists smashing the ground echoed through the halls, each one sending a fresh jolt of terror through the group.


    Grashk, always the boldest of them, was the first to speak. His voice shook with awe and disbelief. "It''s... it''s Volk... he''s fighting the Warlock..."


    The other Orcs looked at each other, confusion and fear in their eyes.


    They didn''t understand how Volk had be so massive, so powerful. But what they did understand was clear: Volk had defeated the Warlock.


    "LEADER IS THE STRONGEST!" Grashk suddenly bellowed, his voice filled with raw admiration. "VOLK IS VICTORIOUS!!!"


    The other Orcs hesitated for only a moment before their voices joined Grashk''s in a chorus of cheers.


    "VOLK IS VICTORIOUS!!!"


    "THE WARLOCK SLAYER!!!"


    Their shouts echoed through the catbs, their cheers rising like a wave of thunder. They banged their fists against their chests in unison, their voices growing louder with each passing second.


    "LEADER IS THE STRONGEST!!!"


    "VOLK IS VICTORIOUS!!!"


    Volk, still trembling with rage, paused for a moment as the sound of the cheers reached his ears.


    He turned, his massive frame casting a dark shadow over the remaining Orcs.


    They stood there, staring up at him, their eyes filled with awe.


    For a moment, Volk was speechless.


    He had been so consumed by his fury, by the chaos of battle, that he had forgotten there were others here. And now, as he stood over the shattered remains of Zenveil, his rage slowly began to ebb.


    He raised his hand, almost hesitantly, and turned toward the cheering Orcs.


    Then, with a voice filled with a strange mixture of disbelief and pride, he shouted, "VOOOLLLLKK IIIISSS VICTORIOUUUUUSSSSS!!!!"

 Chapter 59: MISSION COMPLETE

    The Dreadmaw n marched through the rugged terrain, each step heavy and deliberate, their massive forms causing the ground beneath them to tremble ever so slightly.


    It was as though the very earth feared their presence, shifting and cracking beneath their weight.


    At the front of the procession was Volk, now back in his normal Orc form, though stillrger and more imposing than the average Orc.


    Around his neck hung an ornament¡ªone of the skulls of the three-headed dog, Dozer¡ªfashioned into a crude ne.


    The skull, bleached white with deep cracks from the battle, dangled from a thick, leather cord, a grisly reminder of his victory over the Warlock Zenveil and his monstrous beast.


    In his hands, Volk carried a massive crystal, its size so great that it required both arms to manage.


    The crystal glowed faintly with an eerie, pulsating light, shiiiiing! casting long shadows on the ground as they moved.


    Every time Volk adjusted his grip, the ground beneath him trembled, and the other Orcs would nce nervously at the ground, unsure if the earth itself might give way under the weight of their march.


    Grashk, walking slightly behind Volk, was the first to break the silence.


    "Volk," he said, his voice rough but respectful. "That Warlock... he said some things back there. About our kind. Do you think it was true? What he said about us Orcs their creation?"


    Volk grunted in response, his eyes fixed ahead, but after a moment, he slowed his pace and turned his head slightly.


    "Grashk," he began, his voice a low growl, "is that true? Plus, do we really get weaker without a... mate?"


    Grashk scratched his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.


    "Well... I don''t know for sure. But what Zenveil said, it''s not the first time I''ve heard it. It''s said that when an Orc loses hispanion, he can get weaker if he doesn''t have ady. And if he doesn''t find one soon, he''ll start to wither. They say he''ll get thinner and weaker, until he bes nothing more than a shadow of himself.


    Twice weaker than a goblin, even."


    Volk''s brow furrowed in confusion. The thought of any Orc, especially one as powerful as himself, being reduced to something weaker than a goblin felt absurd. "So, it''s true then?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around it.


    Grashk nodded slowly. "Aye, but it doesn''t happen to all Orcs. Some are... like Grak''thor back in the n, he doesn''t get thinner."


    At the mention of the butcher, Volk''s mind shed to the hulking figure of Grak''thor. Despite the hardships their n faced, Grak''thor had never shown signs of weakness or decline.


    "Grak''thor isn''t getting weaker though," Volk said, his brow knitting further. "Why is that?"


    Grashk gave a knowing grin.


    "Grak''thor was born in a n that didn''t thrive in the middle of the hazardous forest before he came to us Dreadmaw n. His kind didn''t face the same dangers we do. They didn''t have to fight for survival against the hazardous magic particles as much, and theirnd was without those harmful particles, so they didn''t get to get thin and weak without ady.


    However, they still get weaker like us, they are just not getting thinner..."


    He shrugged. "It''s different. That''s why he still look strong. And... the Elven Witches."


    Volk''s gaze narrowed. "The Elven Witches?" he repeated, his tone demanding rification.


    "Aye, they help us out more than you think," Grashk exined, his voice a little quieter now, as if sharing a secret.


    "They need us just as much as we need them. If they stay out in the hazardous magic too long, they''ll die. So we have to find these magic catbs, like the one we just raided, and bring back the crystals. That way, they can purify thend around the n. If they don''t, the whole ce will be unlivable for both Orcs and Elves alike."


    Volk''s mind churned with the new information. He clenched his fists and muttered under his breath, "So we''re like... their lifeline. Like an electric bulb that burns out if we don''t find more power. No wonder they push us into these catbs. But we also need them."


    As the group continued, Volk''s thoughts became more entangled.


    The puzzle pieces of their existence, the precarious bnce between Orcs and Elves, the strange powers of their enemies¡ªeverything weighed heavily on his mind.


    Then, as if to cut through the tension, a familiar sound chimed in his head.


    | Ding!


    Volk blinked in surprise, momentarily shaken from his thoughts.


    | New missionpleted.


    | Defeat and show dominance against Grum-gar Dozer in its fourth Grum-gar evolution.


    | Rewards: Team Grum-gar evolution. |


    Volk''s steps slowed as he processed the words. "Huh?" he mumbled. "What is this...?" And then it hit him.


    The mission.


    The mission he had barely paid attention to earlier. "Oooh," he muttered, almostughing at himself.


    Grashk and the others noticed Volk slowing down, and their pace faltered as well.


    Finally, after several more steps, Volk came to a full stop.


    "Wait," Volkmanded, his deep voice carrying authority.


    The entire group halted at once, turning their attention to Volk, waiting for his next move.


    There was a tension in the air, and the other Orcs, sensing the weight of the moment, remained silent.


    Volk''s eyes scanned the group, his gaze hard and serious. "If we go back like this, with Grum-gar forms spent up, will we be vulnerable?" he asked, his voice low but pointed.


    Grok''Thar, standing at the back, furrowed his brow. "No, we won''t. The rules of the Orcs protect us from that kind of attack," he said confidently. But then, his eyes widened as if a sudden thought struck him. "Unless..." His voice faltered.


    Volk turned sharply to face him, his expression demanding an answer. "Unless what?"


    Grok''Thar swallowed, his face paling slightly. "Unless it''s the Bloodfang n."


    The mention of the Bloodfang n sent a ripple of unease through the group.


    Volk''s expression hardened as he absorbed the gravity of Grok''Thar''s words.


    The Bloodfang n was the group of Orcs he disregarded earlier because he wanted to know his Grum-gar form if it''s really different from the Radioactive form of his system.


    Volk nodded, his mind thinking rapidly.


    He knew it was his fault.


    If they faced the Bloodfang n without Grum-gar forms, they could be ambushed, and despite their victory against Zenveil, they wouldn''t stand a chance.


    He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of responsibility settle heavily on his shoulders.


    Then, suddenly, Volk took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly as he gathered his thoughts.


    He looked around at the faces of the Orcs who had followed him into battle, who had ced their trust in his leadership.


    "I want to try something," Volk said, his voice steady and full of intent.


    The others stared at him, confused but intrigued. Grashk tilted his head, curiosity evident on his face. "What is it, Volk?"


    Volk didn''t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, cing the massive crystal down on the ground in front of them.


    Its faint glow pulsed gently, casting strange shadows across the walls of the cave.


    "I think..." Volk began, his voice slow and measured. "I think you all can turn into a third phase mutation."

 Chapter 60: Third Phase Mutation

    The moment Volk made his promation, a silence fell over the group.


    Woooooosh!


    His fellow Dreadmaw n Orcs stared at him in disbelief.


    Their leader was always a force to be reckoned with, but this? He transformed four times because of the Warlocks and they knew it should not be permanent.


    However, can they also transform?


    The idea that they could simply "awaken" again after their battle against the Warlock Zenveil seemed ridiculous.


    They exchanged uneasy nces, unsure whether Volk was being serious or had simply lost his mind.


    Grok''Thar was the first to break the silence.


    Heughed, a short, barking sound that echoed off the cave walls. "Volk," he said, shaking his head. "That''s impossible! We already used our Grum-gar forms. No one just awakens again like that. Not after a fight like this.


    What are you thinking?"


    Grashk joined in, scratching his chin with a smirk. "Aye, Volk. You''ve led us through some insane battles, but this? There''s no way. We can''t just... reset, like we''re some sort of machine."


    Another Orc chimed in, nodding along. "Yeah, Grum-gar is something we build up over time, through hard battles and pushing our limits. We''re all drained after fighting Zenveil. The idea of us just... doing it again is nonsense!"


    The others began tough, with their voices filling the cavern with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.


    Volk''s intensity seemed misced, evenical, in the face of such an absurd suggestion.


    They had all fought with every ounce of strength they had, and now, they were simply trying to recover.


    Gurrak, the youngest of the group, wiped tears ofughter from his eyes. "Maybe we can do it tomorrow, eh, Volk?" He grinned, his tusks glinting in the dim light.


    "We''ll all wake up refreshed, maybe have a bit of breakfast, and then, bam! Grum-gar again! I mean, why wait? Let''s do it now!" His tone was teasing, mocking the very idea.


    The Orcs roared withughter, pping each other on the back and shaking their heads.


    The sheer ridiculousness of the conversation had turned a tense situation into something of a joke.


    Even the thought of facing the Bloodfang n couldn''t keep them from chuckling at the absurdity.


    But Volk wasn''tughing. His eyes remained locked on Gurrak, his expression deadly serious. "Do it," he said, his voice cutting through the noise like a de.


    Theughter died instantly. Gurrak blinked, confused. "Huh?"


    "I said do it," Volk repeated, his tone unwavering. "Try to transform. If we can do it now, we''ll be ready if the Bloodfang nes for us. We''ll crush them if they try to take our crystals."


    Gurrak''s throat went dry, and he swallowed nervously.


    He nced around at the other Orcs, seeking some kind of reassurance, but they were just as stunned as he was.


    The weight of Volk''smand was settling over them like a heavy cloak.


    This wasn''t a joke anymore.


    Their leader was serious.


    "You''re... you''re serious?" Gurrak stammered, looking back at Volk. His mind raced. It was impossible, wasn''t it? But Volk''s eyes bore into him, and the weight of hismand was undeniable.


    Seeing no way out, Gurrak sighed and straightened his back. "Alright," he muttered, rubbing his hands together nervously. "I''ll give it a try... but don''t expect anything."


    He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.


    The familiar feeling of energy coursing through his veins wasn''t there, at least not in the same way it had been before their battle. But as he concentrated, something strange happened.


    A tingling sensation spread through his body, slow at first, but then it grew stronger, more intense.


    The other Orcs watched with wide eyes as Gurrak''s muscles began to bulge, his veins popping out like thick cords.


    His skin darkened, his frame expanding as his body slowly transformed. His legs grew thicker, his arms like tree trunks, and his back arched as the sheer mass of his Grum-gar form took over.


    His tusks elongated, his face contorting into a more savage, primal form.


    Gurrak opened his eyes, now glowing with a feral light, and took a step forward.


    The ground beneath him cracked from the pressure of his weight. His form was still growing, slow and deliberate, like a boulder rolling down a hill, unstoppable and inevitable.


    The other Orcs stood there, dumbfounded.


    They watched in stunned silence, the air thick with disbelief.


    Gurrak had actually done it. He had transformed.


    Even though he had already used his Grum-gar form in the battle against Zenveil, he had somehow managed to trigger it again.


    THUD.


    The crystals the Orcs were carrying fell to the ground, one by one, as they stared, ck-jawed, at Gurrak''s massive form.


    The sound echoed ominously through the cavern, but no one moved.


    No one spoke.


    They were all transfixed by the impossible transformation happening right before their eyes.


    Gurrak, breathing heavily, looked down at his new form, his voice a low growl. "I... I did it." His tone was filled with disbelief, as though even he couldn''t believe what had just happened. But before he could say more, Volk''s voice cut through the air once again.


    "Wait!" Volkmanded, raising a hand to stop the celebration that was just about to erupt.


    The Orcs froze, their cheers dying in their throats as they turned their attention back to Volk. His eyes glinted with intensity. "Now, turn into your second mutation of the Grum-gar form."


    Gurrak''s jaw dropped slightly.


    He had barely believed he could manage the first transformation, let alone a second. His heart raced as he looked around at the other Orcs, their eyes now gleaming with hope.


    The weight of their expectations pressed down on him, but something inside him stirred¡ªsomething primal, something powerful.


    Gurrak clenched his fists, his muscles tightening further. "Alright," he growled. "Let''s see if it''s possible."


    With a roar, Gurrak''s body expanded once more. His shoulders broadened, his arms swelled to even more terrifying proportions, and his legs grew like thick pirs of stone.


    His skin darkened further, thickening as his form became even more monstrous. His already massive body grewrger, more menacing, and his face twisted into a visage of pure rage and power.


    The Orcs watched in awe as Gurrak entered his second mutation. His body now towered over them, nearly twice the size of a normal Grum-gar.


    The sheer presence of him was overwhelming, like a mountain standing among hills. He took another step forward, and the ground trembled beneath him.


    Yet, before the Orcs could begin to celebrate, Volk''s voice rang out once more.


    "Now, turn into the third mutation!"


    The Orcs gasped in unison.


    The third mutation was rare¡ªalmost unheard of for an Orc who hadn''t yet surpassed Fifth Mag''Durotan.


    Those who achieved such a feat were considered the rarest talent, with a chance to be champions of their ns, and here was Volk, demanding that Gurrak attempt it now, in front of them all.


    Gurrak''s eyes widened, but the determination burning in his chest drowned out his doubt.


    If this was possible, then he could be something more than just another Orc in the Dreadmaw n.


    He could be one those rare talent.


    With a final roar that shook the very cavern, Gurrak''s body erupted into its third mutation.


    His muscles rippled with power, his skin became nearly stone-like in its density, and his form expanded to a monstrous size. His teeth elongated into tusks that jutted out like daggers, and his eyes burned with the light of pure, untamed rage.


    The transformation was slow, almost majestic in its brutality.


    Each second felt like an eternity as Gurrak''s body reshaped itself into something beyond what any of them had ever seen.


    His presence was overwhelming, like his very existence radiating raw power.


    The Orcs stood there, with their hearts pounding heavily in their chests.


    They stared at Gurrak with awe and dread, for what stood before them was not just an Orc¡ªit was a monster, a force of nature, a being of pure, unrelenting destruction.


    Gurrak, breathing heavily, looked down at himself, his voice a deep, rumbling growl. "I... I did it."

 Chapter 61: Another test

    The cheers erupted like a storm within the catbs.


    The Orcs raised their fists in the air, their deep voices booming through the cavern as they surrounded Gurrak, now a hulking behemoth after sessfullypleting his third Grum-gar mutation.


    The once dim-lit and tense cave now echoed with the sound of triumph.


    "GURRAK! GURRAK! GURRAK!"


    They chanted his name in unison, their voices bouncing off the stone walls.


    Gurrak stood tall in the middle, his chest heaving, his massive form looming over the others.


    He raised both his thick, muscled arms, flexing with pride as the rest of the Orcs pped his back and grabbed his arms in congrattions.


    "I can''t believe it!" one of the Orcs shouted, his voice barely audible over the roaring celebration. "Three mutations! Three!"


    Another Orc, his eyes wide with astonishment, leaned in close to Gurrak, studying his enormous frame with disbelief. "I''ve never seen anything like it... You''ve be a beast!"


    The group of Orcs, now energized with excitement, couldn''t stop themselves. "If Gurrak can do it, so can we!" one of them shouted, thrusting his fist into the air.


    "Three mutations!" another Orc eximed, punching the ground beneath his feet, causing a tremor. "If this is what we can be, the Bloodfang n is nothing! NOTHING!"


    They continued to shout, each trying to outdo the other in their praises and celebrations.


    The tension that had gued them after their battle with Zenveil hadpletely evaporated, reced with newfound confidence and pride.


    It felt like their entire world had shifted.


    Gurrak, one of their own, had achieved something only legends spoke of.


    Suddenly, another Orc, his eyes gleaming with both excitement and envy, stepped forward. "I want to try too!" he dered, his voice cutting through the cacophony.


    The others turned toward him, one could feel their excitement was palpable.


    They were eager to see another of their own transform, to witness the impossible again. It was as if their blood was boiling, the primal urge to grow stronger burning in their veins.


    But before the Orc could take another step, Volk''s voice rang out, sharp andmanding. "Don''t."


    The Orc froze, blinking in confusion. He turned to Volk, his face scrunched up in bewilderment. "Why not?"


    Volk''s gaze was firm, his voice low but steady. "There''s still the Bloodfang n," he said. "Save it forter. We''ll need every bit of strength we can muster if they decided to antagonize us."


    The Orc hesitated, ncing back at Gurrak, who still stood triumphant in his third mutation. His desire to transform, to feel that surge of power, was undeniable.


    "But what if it''s only Gurrak who can do it? What if we''re not the same?" he asked, voicing the doubt that flickered in the back of every Orc''s mind.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed, his voice as steady as a mountain. "It''s not just Gurrak. It''s all of you."


    Still, the Orcs around him weren''t entirely convinced.


    The doubt lingered, gnawing at them. After all, seeing one of their own mutate three times was an incredible feat, but surely not all of them could be that lucky, could they?


    Volk sighed, sensing their skepticism. "Alright," he relented, his tone softening just a bit. "I''ll let only one more of you transform. But just one. We need to prove this once and for all."


    At this, the Orcs exchanged eager nces, excitement buzzing in the air again.


    They jostled one another, each wanting to be the one who got the chance. But it was Grashk, the older, battle-worn Orc, who stepped forward, a confident smirk on his face.


    "I''ll do it," Grashk said, his deep voice cutting through the noise. "I''ve only ever been able to mutate once in my life. If I can do it three times, then we''ll know Volk''s right."


    The others roared in approval, pping Grashk on the back and cheering him on. He stepped forward, standing in the middle of the group, his muscles tensing as he prepared to attempt the impossible.


    His eyes met Volk''s, and Volk gave him a single nod of approval.


    Grashk closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself.


    The familiar energy surged through his body, but this time, it was stronger, more intense. He could feel the primal power of the Grum-gar form coursing through his veins, and as he focused, his body began to shift.


    His muscles expanded, his frame growingrger as his first mutation took hold. His skin darkened, his tusks grew longer, and his body took on the more brutish form of the Grum-gar.


    The Orcs watched in awe as Grashk transformed, their cheers growing louder.


    But he wasn''t done.


    Grashk gritted his teeth, pushing himself further.


    His muscles bulged even more, his skin thickening, his bones cracking and reshaping as his body grewrger still.


    He roared as his second mutation took hold, his oncerge form now towering over the others.


    The Orcs could barely contain their excitement. "He''s doing it!" one of them shouted, pumping his fist in the air. "He''s really doing it!"


    Grashk, now in his second mutation, stood tall, his breathing heavy, his eyes wild with the power surging through him. But he knew there was still more.


    He had to push himself to the limit, to prove to the others that Volk was right.


    With a roar that shook the cavern, Grashk''s body expanded again.


    His third mutation took hold, his form bing monstrous, his muscles growing to nearly grotesque proportions. His tusks jutted out like massive spears, his arms thick as tree trunks.


    His transformation was slow, deliberate, as though the very fabric of his being was reshaping itself into something more primal, more powerful.


    The Orcs watched in stunned silence as Grashkpleted his third mutation. His body radiated raw power, his presence dominating the room.


    He looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists, feeling the overwhelming strength that now flowed through him.


    Then, without warning, Grashk jumped into the air, soaring high above the ground beforending with a thunderous crash that shook the very earth beneath them.


    He threw back his head and let out a triumphant roar, his voice echoing through the catbs.


    "I DID IT!" Grashk bellowed, pounding his chest with his massive fists. "I DID IT! THREE TIMES!"


    The other Orcs erupted in cheers, their voices deafening as they celebrated Grashk''s transformation.


    "GRASHK! GRASHK! GRASHK!"


    They crowded around him, pping his massive back, hugging him, shouting his name with admiration and respect.


    Grashk grinned from ear to ear, flexing his massive arms and letting out another roar of triumph. "I CAN''T BELIEVE IT!" he shouted, his voice booming. "THREE MUTATIONS! I''M A MONSTER!"


    The celebration seemed to go on forever, the Orcs caught up in the sheer joy of the moment.


    They had never felt so alive, so powerful.


    They had never believed that such strength was possible, but now they knew that it was. And they owed it all to Volk.


    Finally, as the excitement began to die down, Volk raised his hand, signaling for the others to quiet down.


    "Alright," he said, a small smile ying on his lips. "Let''s move. We''ve proven our strength today. Now we need to get these crystals back to the n."


    The Orcs nodded, one could see their eyes gleaming with pride unlike earlier.


    They picked up their crystals, their massive forms casting long shadows in the dim light of the catbs. But this time, as they marched forward, they did so with smiles on their faces, their hearts full of confidence.


    As they walked, one of the Orcs spoke quietly to another. "I''m d I followed Volk earlier before entering the boss cave," he muttered, ncing at their leader. "I hesitated at first, but now¡­ Now I see."


    The other Orc nodded. "Aye. We''ve never had a leader like him."


    Volk, overhearing them, smirked but said nothing. Instead, he gave them a warning. "Don''t be yes-men," he said, his voice low but firm. "I''m not perfect. And I need warriors who can think for themselves."


    The Orcs nodded, understanding. They respected Volk not just for his strength, but for his wisdom.


    They knew that under his leadership, they were destined for greatness.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, on the other side of the catbs, the Bloodfang n was still locked in battle with the monsters surrounding them.


    The Orcs who had been defeated were slowly being dragged away into the darkness by the catb creatures, their bodies disappearing into the shadows.


    Though their ranks were thinning, the Bloodfang n fought on.


    Those who had only transformed into their first Grum-gar mutations were no match for the relentless waves of monsters, but the stronger among them held their ground, with their eyes burning with determination.


    Behind them, other Orc ns watched, waiting for the battle to end so they could move in.


    Unlike Volk, who never stood idle, these ns were more cautious, more calcting.


    They waited for the Bloodfang n to either emerge victorious or be wiped out entirely.


    And as they waited, the ground beneath them began to tremble.


    Dum! Dum! Dum!

 Chapter 62: Dreadmaw Clan

    The tension in the air was thick as the orcs of the Bloodfang n and the Ironhide n stood frozen, with their eyes wide, slightly shocked.


    Especially the Ironhide n, who had entered the catbs next to Bloodfang n.


    They could hardly believe what they were seeing.


    "How in the name of Gruul did the Dreadmaw n reach here first?" the leader of the Ironhide n muttered under his breath, one could notice his deep voice were barely containing the confusion.


    His eyes narrowed as he stared at the distant figures of Volk and his orcs, who were trudging steadily through the dark stone corridors, their backs hunched beneath the weight of massive crystals.


    Behind the leader of the Ironhide n, his subordinates stood with their arms crossed, equally bewildered.


    The blood-red eyes of every orc followed the trail of the Dreadmaw n.


    The sight of those crystals¡ªtheir shimmering surfaces reflecting the dim, flickering torchlight¡ªwas too much to ignore.


    One of the orcs at the back whispered, "How did theyplete the catbs¡­ that fast?"


    The Bloodfang n orcs were just as stunned.


    Several of them stood motionless, their tusked jaws ck as they gaped at the impossible sight.


    Dreadmaw n, carrying those crystals, hadpleted the dungeon first. Even worse, the one leading the Dreadmaw n was Volk.


    The massive orc walked with his usual, almost casual swagger, despite the exhaustion hidden behind his heavy gait.


    The realization hit the Bloodfang orcs like a p to the face.


    "The Dreadmaw n finished it?!"


    "Them? Volk''s tribe?" one of the Bloodfang orcs muttered, disbelief etched on his face. He nced at hisrades, who were equally dumbfounded.


    Volk, leading his n with the immense crystals strapped to their backs, wasn''t in any hurry.


    They hadpleted the dungeon, but his mind was on what would happen next.


    He knew there were eyes on them, watching, calcting, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.


    Bloodfang''s warriors were whispering amongst themselves, looking more and more tempted by the second.


    If Volk had heard what they were saying, he would''ve been livid.


    "Fast?


    "What fast?"


    He would have scoffed inwardly.


    They had fought a warlock¡ªa being far beyond what any of these orcs couldprehend.


    They had struggled, bled, and barely made it out alive. But of course, the other ns knew nothing of that.


    Ignorance bred arrogance.


    Volk''s walk was interrupted when one of the orcs, in his Grum-gar form from his own n stepped forward, his massive figure even casting a long shadow across the cavern floor.


    "Leader," the Grum-gar said, his deep voice rumbling. "Let me carry your crystal."


    Volk stopped in his tracks, considering the offer.


    He nced at the heavy crystal he''d been hauling across his back. His body ached from the weight, but his pride was far greater than his pain.


    Still, he wasn''t stupid.


    He knew when to conserve his strength.


    "Okay," Volk said, his tone gruff but epting.


    He unhooked the straps of the crystal from his shoulders and handed it over to the Grum-gar orc, who took it without hesitation.


    His mutated muscles bulged as he heaved the crystal onto his own back with a thud.


    The exchange was brief, but in that moment, Volk''s eyes met the gaze of the Bloodfang orcs.


    He could see them watching, eyes narrowing, whispering to one another.


    They weren''t just curious¡ªthey were calcting.


    Volk could feel the tension rising. The question hung in the air: "Would the Bloodfang n make a move?"


    He and his Dreadmaw Can was prepared for it.


    Volk''s lips twisted into a smirk as he continued walking, eyes still locked onto the Bloodfang warriors.


    Every step he took was slow and deliberate, as if daring them to challenge him.


    As the Dreadmaw n marched past, the leader of the Bloodfang n stepped forward, his strides confident, almost swaggering.


    Volk could see it in his posture¡ªthe arrogance, the self-assuredness. The leader of the Bloodfang n wore a smug grin as he approached.


    Volk''s smirk widened. ''Here we go,'' he thought. ''They''reing.''


    The Bloodfang leader''sughter echoed through the cavern, deep and mocking. "Congrattions, Volk," he called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see you and your boys managed to get your hands on some crystals... easily."


    Volk didn''t miss a beat.


    "Naturally," he responded with a matching tone, his smirk never leaving his face. "We''d be fools if we couldn''t." His voice wasced with mockery.


    Then, without hesitation, he cut straight to the point, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "Do you n on stealing them?"


    The Bloodfang leader''s expression shifted slightly.


    He stopped a few feet away from Volk, still smiling but now with a hint of something darker beneath it. "Stealing?" the Bloodfang leader repeated, raising an eyebrow as though the idea was absurd.


    Then, he shook his head and began speaking, his voice rising as he addressed not just Volk, but everyone within earshot.


    "It''s always been known that it is forbidden to interfere with the business of other ns," he began, his tone turning righteous. "Whether they''re in need of help or not. To do so is seen as a challenge to their strength and their honor. In the catbs, every n must fight its own battles."


    The Bloodfang leader''s voice grew louder, and the other orcs began to listen more intently, his words gaining weight with each passing second.


    "But you!!!!! aaaall interfered. You disrupted the bnce," he continued, his eyes now hard, focusing on Volk. "For us, it is an insult. A sign that you think we are too weak to handle our own affairs. And in our world, an insult like that is answered with blood."


    The silence that followed was palpable. Every orc in the cavern¡ªwhether Bloodfang, Dreadmaw, or Ironhide¡ªstood still, absorbing the weight of the words.


    The Ironhide n orcs, who had been standing at the edge of the scene, were wide-eyed with surprise.


    They hadn''t expected this.


    They knew the Dreadmaw n had entered the catbsst, so how had things escted so quickly?


    As for the Bloodfang leader, his confidence only grew. He was sure of his assessment.


    Volk''s n had to be hiding something.


    The Dreadmaw orcs, despite their bravado, had clearly fought something fierce.


    The more confident they seemed, the more the Bloodfang leader believed they were masking their injuries.


    But as the Bloodfang leader continued his speech, Volk''s eyes gleamed with something dangerous, something far beyond the other orcs''prehension.


    He was reading the room, assessing every nce, every nervous twitch of the Bloodfang warriors.


    He knew what they were thinking. And that''s why, instead of being scared or defensive, he did something unexpected.


    He let out a low chuckle, loud enough to silence the murmurs around him.


    Then, with a swift movement, Volk''s hands dropped the straps of the crystals from his shoulders, letting them fall to the ground with a resounding thud!


    One by one, the other orcs of the Dreadmaw n did the same.


    The crystals hit the stone floor in unison, echoing through the cavern like the beating of war drums.


    The Bloodfang leader''s eyes widened in surprise.


    His confident smirk faltered for just a moment as he saw the Dreadmaw orcs, bruised and battered, now dropping their burdens and standing tall, their chests heaving with the thrill of battle.


    They were no longer hiding anything.


    Instead, they were baring their teeth, ready for whatever came next.


    Volk grinned, his eyes glinting with savage excitement. He raised his fist and bellowed, his voice booming through the chamber with raw energy.


    "FINALLY!"


    The rest of the Dreadmaw orcs roared in unison, with their voices filled with unbridled aggression.


    In their feet, they could feel the sound of the ground reverberated off the walls, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.


    They wanted this.


    The battle, it seemed, was about to begin.

 Chapter 63: Go back fast

    A sudden, eerie silence fell over the battlefield, cutting through the heavy air like a de.


    The Bloodfang n leader, seasoned in countless battles, scanned the faces of the Dreadmaw n.


    What he saw wasn''t fear.


    It was something much more dangerous¡ªdesire.


    The kind of desire only orcs knew.


    A bloodlust, a craving for battle so deep it twisted even the most terrifying situation into something thrilling. His gut twisted.


    But then his eyes fell on Volk. More specifically, on the dog skull around Volk''s neck.


    There was something about it¡ªno, not something¡ªdark magic. The faint, pulsing aura that clung to the skull was unmistakable.


    The Bloodfang n leader''s eyes narrowed. His battle-hardened instincts screamed at him.


    "What is that?" the Bloodfang leader whispered, his voice tinged with fear. His gaze locked onto the skull.


    Volk stopped mid-step, his towering form casting a shadow over the Bloodfang leader. He followed the leader''s gaze to the skull on his chest, confusion flickering in his eyes.


    On Volk''s right, Grashk, still brimming with adrenaline from his transformation, stepped forward. His voice was filled with pride. "A trophy upon killing a Warlock," he said, his chest puffed out. "Volk, our leader, did it!"


    The moment those words left Grashk''s lips, the atmosphere shifted.


    It was as if time itself had stopped.


    The orcs of the Bloodfang and Ironhide ns stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief.


    Their muscles stiffened, their minds barely able toprehend what they had just heard.


    A Warlock.


    Volk killed a Warlock.


    Slowly, the trembling began.


    One by one, the orcs of both ns started to shake.


    Their breaths became shallow, and their eyes darted nervously between each other, waiting for someone to break the silence.


    The weight of Grashk''s words hit them like a hammer.


    Warlocks were legends.


    Nightmares whispered to young orcs to keep them in line. Beings of dark magic, untouchable, unstoppable.


    The Bloodfang leader swallowed hard. "Did you know what that meant?" His voice was low, almost reverent, as he stared at Volk, his entire demeanor having shifted from confident arrogance to wary disbelief.


    Volk, seeing the fear ripple through the orcs, raised an eyebrow.


    He had never seen them this spooked, not even in the face of battle.


    What meant what?


    He nced down at the skull again, confused.


    "What do you mean?"


    Volk asked, his voice sharp but genuinely puzzled.


    The Bloodfang leader looked at him as if he couldn''t believe his ears. "You didn''t know?" he said, his voice cracking with disbelief. Volk''s confusion deepened.


    "Yes?"


    The Bloodfang leader''s expression grew more incredulous by the second. He turned to look at the Dreadmaw orcs, his voice rising, as if searching for any sign of recognition. "Do any of you know what this means? The significance of the Warlock?"


    Volk turned his head slightly, gazing at his fellow orcs.


    All of them looked just as confused as he did, each one slowly shaking their heads.


    No one had the faintest idea of what the Bloodfang leader was talking about.


    The silence stretched.


    "Tell us," Volk demanded, his patience wearing thin. His tone wasced with the underlying threat of violence, as if daring the Bloodfang leader to keep this vital information from them.


    The Bloodfang leader''s face softened slightly, a mixture of pity and frustration crossing his features. He ran a hand over his scarred face, exhaling deeply. "You didn''t know," he repeated softly, more to himself than anyone else.


    "It''s because you''ve always been thest n to enter the catbs, isn''t it? No one bothered to tell you."


    There was a collective rumble of confusion from the Dreadmaw orcs, but they remained silent, waiting for the Bloodfang leader to exin.


    Clearing his throat, the Bloodfang leader began to speak. His voice was heavy with the gravity of what he was about to reveal.


    "The Warlocks¡­ they are more than just powerful beings. Their presence in the Catb signals something far worse. When a Warlock appears near the ns of orcs, it means one thing. Migration."


    He paused, watching the realization sink in. "The Warlock''s arrival means the ns need to leave. Fast. Or else¡­"


    The leader of the Ironhide n, who had been silently observing the conversation from a distance, stepped forward.


    His deep voice rumbled through the cavern. .


    "It''s true. Every time a Warlock or Dark Elven Witch appears, we must leave. If we don''t, hunts follow. And hunts with them... means death and very. For all ns.


    We will be hunted like an animal."


    Volk''s heart skipped a beat. His body stiffened. He turned to face the Bloodfang leader fully, his hands clenched into fists. "Is that true?" Volk''s voice was a low growl.


    The Bloodfang leader nodded gravely.


    "It is. Thest time this happened, we barely survived. The Warlocks and the Dark Elves¡ªespecially the witches¡ªdon''t juste alone. They have armies. Armies filled with their ves like us Hornless Orcs and magic-wielding creatures.


    "Magic artifacts that can decimate our strongest warriors. Theye in numbers that would make even thergest orc ns seem like a mere handful. They''re relentless, and they always want morend. More control. Once they set their eyes on us, we either flee, or we die."


    The Dreadmaw orcs were speechless. The Bloodfang leader continued, his voice now filled with urgency.


    "Do you understand? That warlock you killed? They would sense his or her death and would absolutely send reinforcements because they would think he or she was killed by a Dark Elven Witch, even if there was no presence of an Elven Witch.


    "After all, for them, it''s impossible for us Orcs to defeat them. So, reinforcements woulde from a muchrger force. And if they''re nearby, they''reing for us¡ªfor all the ns."


    Volk''s eyes widened slightly as he processed the information.


    A signal?


    The Warlock they had fought was incredibly powerful.


    He had nearly killed them. And now, the Bloodfang leader was telling him there could be more¡ªmany moreing for them? He turned to look at the rest of his n.


    They, too, wore expressions of shock and disbelief.


    One of the orcs from the Ironhide n stepped forward.


    He seemed to know what Volk was thinking. "Even if you didn''t kill it, they would sense him alone. In their Warlockmunity, no Warlock is to go out alone, and being alone means they could be enved or captured by the Dark Elven Witch.


    "We need to leave. Now. If we don''t get out of here and warn the other ns, we''ll be wiped out before we even know what hit us."


    Volk felt the weight of the situation bearing down on him. He nced back at Grashk, who nodded in agreement.


    The other Dreadmaw orcs exchanged uneasy nces, their bodies tense with the sudden understanding of the danger they were in.


    "Volk," the Bloodfang leader called, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "The Warlock you killed¡­ was he strong?"


    Volk gave a curt nod. "He was."


    A ripple of dread passed through the gathered orcs.


    The Bloodfang leader''s eyes darkened. "Then you know. If he was strong, the rest will be stronger. And there will be many more of them. Along with their ves like the Hornless Orcs that was taken from other ns, and their armies¡­ all of them will descend upon us. The numbers theymand would dwarf us.


    Every orc nbined wouldn''t even make up one percent of their forces."


    The sheer scale of what the Bloodfang leader described was almost iprehensible.


    The Dreadmaw orcs could hardly fathom an enemy that vast, that powerful.


    Even Volk, who had faced countless battles, felt a chill crawl up his spine.


    This wasn''t a war they could win. This wasn''t even a war they could survive.


    For a long moment, the cavern was filled with heavy, suffocating silence. The weight of the situation pressed down on every orc, their collective breaths held in anticipation.


    Finally, Volk broke the silence. His voice was cold and firm, slicing through the tension like a de. "What are we waiting for?"


    He turned to face his n, his eyes burning with urgency and determination. "Let''s get out of here!"


    Without another word, the Dreadmaw n gathered their crystals and began moving swiftly.


    The Bloodfang and Ironhide orcs didn''t hesitate.


    They knew what was at stake now, and they weren''t going to waste another second.


    They had to leave, and they had to leave now.

 Chapter 64: Preparation for Migration

    The scene was a blur of frantic movement and hushed, fearful whispers as the orc ns emerged from the catbs.


    It was as if the weight of the Warlock''s dark presence still clung to them, heavy and oppressive.


    Even the sight of the massive crystal Volk carried on his back went ignored.


    Normally, such a prize would have been cause for wild celebrations, for the Dreadmaw to boast and taunt their rivals. But not today.


    Today, there was no victory in the air¡ªonly fear.


    The Bloodfang and Ironhide ns were already dispersing, their leaders speaking in hurried tones, organizing their own ns.


    The Dreadmaw n did the same.


    There was no time to waste.


    Their victory over another orc tribe paled inparison to therger, more terrifying reality: a Warlock had appeared in the Catb.


    That meant only one thing¡ªdanger, and lots of it.


    As soon as they returned to their n, an announcement echoed through the vige.


    Every orc and even the few Elves who lived among the Dreadmaw froze at the sound of the loud,manding voice of Gre, the n''s elder.


    She was a fierce and revered figure, her words carrying the weight of wisdom and experience.


    When she spoke, the entire n listened.


    "Tomorrow," Gre''s voice boomed through the vige, reverberating off the wooden huts and stone walls, "we leave this ce. The appearance of the Warlock in the Catb signals theing of a dark time, one that cannot be met with steel alone. We must flee!"


    The murmurs of fear spread through the gathered orcs like wildfire.


    Gre continued, her voice a thunderous roar that silenced even the bravest warriors.


    "Do you understand what this means? Warlocks are not mere enemies! They are harbingers of destruction, forces of darkness that even the mightiest of orc ns cannot withstand. Their magic is ancient, their power limitless! And where there is one, more will follow!"


    Orcs shifted nervously, one could see theirrge bodies trembling under the weight of Gre''s words.


    Even the strongest among them, warriors who had never flinched in the face of battle, now nced uneasily at each other.


    The Dreadmaw, known for their ferocity in hunting, were visibly shaken as they looked at the forest in fear.


    The Elves, though fewer in number, had paled, with their faces tight with concern.


    "The Warlock we encountered was a warning," Gre''s eyes swept over the crowd, her face etched with grim determination.


    "A warning that thisnd will soon be overrun. We cannot fight them all. Warlocks bring with them an army¡ªand horrors that have no name in our tongue. Their numbers will drown us! Their magic will tear the sky and burn the earth! If we stay, we will be ughtered!"


    Her words struck a deep chord in every orc present.


    They were born for battle, yes. But even the bravest warrior knew when a battle could not be won. And this was one such battle.


    Gre''s voice softened for a moment, but the urgency in her tone did not waver. "We must migrate. We must leave thisnd and find new territory, far from the reach of the Warlocks and their dark minions. It is the only way to survive. Prepare yourselves tonight. For tomorrow, we march."


    The crowd remained silent, the weight of the elder''s words sinking deep into their bones.


    Even the rowdiest orcs, those who usually revealed the idea of war, knew that this was different.


    This was no ordinary enemy.


    This was survival.


    As the crowd dispersed, Volk made his way back to his tent. His steps were heavy, his mind racing with everything that had happened.


    He had in the Warlock, but at what cost?


    His n was now on the brink of leaving their home, driven out by the specter of an even greater enemy.


    Just as he reached the entrance to his tent, a figure stepped out of the shadows.


    It was Solluha''r, her slender frame outlined by the dim light of the torches around them.


    Her eyes, usually sharp and observant, were now filled with worry.


    "Volk," she breathed, her voice a mix of relief and anxiety. She stepped closer, cing a hand on his chest as if to make sure he was real. "Did you really meet a Warlock?"


    Volk gave a small nod. "Yes."


    Solluha''r''s breath hitched. "And¡­ you defeated it?" Her tone was incredulous, almost disbelieving.


    The fear of Warlocks ran deep in all the ns, and the idea that one could be defeated by a mere orc was something that bordered on legend.


    Volk smirked, leaning against the wooden beam of the tent. "Defeated?" He puffed out his chest proudly. "I stomped that Warlock thoroughly. Crushed him under my foot like a bug."


    Solluha''r raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk forming on her lips. "You? Just like that?"


    Volk crossed his arms, his voice growing more boastful by the second.


    "You should''ve seen it, Solluha''r. First, he tried to throw his dark magic at me, but I dodged it, like I was swatting a fly. Then he conjured some kind of shadow beast, and I tore through that too. His face was priceless when he realized he was no match for me."


    Solluha''r chuckled softly, the tension leaving her body as she listened to his exaggerated tale. "Is that so?"


    "Oh, that''s not even the best part," Volk continued, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I grabbed him by the neck, lifted him off the ground, and threw him into the wall. He tried to beg for mercy, but I wasn''t having it. One more punch, and the Warlock was nothing but a pile of bones at my feet."


    Solluha''rughed, the sound melodic and filled with relief. She stepped closer to Volk, resting her forehead against his chest. "You''re impossible," she muttered, savoring the feel of his strong form beneath her hands.


    For a moment, the tension of the day melted away as Solluha''r stood there, her body pressed against Volk''s.


    They were alone, just the two of them, in the quiet of the night. But then, her eyes caught something behind him. Somethingrge and shining.


    The massive crystal.


    Her eyes widened as she pulled back slightly, looking up at him with astonishment. "Is that¡­ Did youplete the dungeon?"


    Volk grinned down at her, his pride evident. "I did."


    Solluha''r''s hands traced over the edges of the crystal, marveling at its size and the power it radiated.


    She turned back to Volk, her eyes filled with admiration and something more. "You truly are incredible," she whispered, her voice low and breathy. Her hand slid up to his chest again, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. "We''ll need this tomorrow, won''t we?"


    Volk nodded, though his attention was now focused entirely on her.


    Solluha''r''s touch was intoxicating, her closeness stirring something primal within him.


    She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, her lips curling into a seductive smile. "Then we should make sure we''re both¡­ ready, shouldn''t we?"


    Her breath was warm against his skin as she leaned in, pressing her body against his. Her lips brushed his chest, sending a shiver down Volk''s spine. "We''ll need all the energy we can get¡­ for tomorrow."


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest as Solluha''r''s lips found him, their kiss deep and hungry.


    The world outside seemed to fade away as they stumbled into the tent, their bodies tangling together in the dim light.

 Chapter 65: Betrayal 1/2

    The night air was thick with the lingering smell of smoke and sweat as Lhum''Baggar hurried through the dimly lit pathways of the Dreadmaw n''s encampment.


    His heart raced with excitement, with a wide grin splitting his rough, scarred scary face.


    He had done it¡ªhe had mutated his Grum-gar form into the third phase.


    The power still coursed through him, his muscles thrumming with the memory of that transformation.


    All he wanted now was to share the news with his wife, to see the pride in her eyes when she heard.


    As he neared the familiar outline of their tent, a voice suddenly cut through the night, freezing him in his tracks.


    "Older Brother¡­"


    The voice was familiar, too familiar. Lhum''Baggar''s grin faltered, his body stiffening as recognition washed over him.


    He knew that voice all too well, and with it came memories¡ªbitter, frustrating memories.


    Without turning, Lhum''Baggar spoke into the dark, his voice low and measured. "Luk''Tar, what do you want?"


    A shadow shifted in the distance, moving closer, and the atmosphere around Lhum''Baggar seemed to darken. His younger brother stepped into view, his face barely visible in the flickering torchlight.


    There was something off about him, something dangerous in the way he moved, in the way his eyes gleamed with barely suppressed fury.


    "You know what I want," Luk''Tar growled, his voice dripping with malice. "But depending on your mood, you didn''t! You could''ve killed him, brother. You could''ve killed thatborer orc¡ªVolk. But you didn''t."


    Lhum''Baggar clenched his fists, with his teeth grinding together. He had known this wasing, sooner orter. He turned slowly, locking eyes with Luk''Tar.


    "I didn''t kill him because I lost to him. Fair and square, just like I told you. You need to move on, Luk''Tar. He beat you in battle too. You stole his kill, and he still bested you. It''s over."


    Luk''Tar''s face twisted with rage, his lips curling back to reveal his tusks. His eyes burned with a hatred that was almost palpable.


    "Move on? MOVE ON?"


    His voice rose, echoing through the quiet night like a snarl.


    "Thatborer orc¡ªhe''s taken everything from me! Everything! First, he steals my kill, and now he''s taken my ce, my pride! And you, my own brother, you''ve turned your back on me for him!"


    Lhum''Baggar frowned, his brow furrowing as he watched his brother with growing concern.


    There was something wrong, something deeply wrong with Luk''Tar.


    The rage in his voice wasn''t the usual frustration or jealousy¡ªit was deeper, darker, almost unhinged.


    "What are you talking about, Luk''Tar?" Lhum''Baggar asked, his voice softening. "Volk didn''t take anything from you. You lost that fight because you weren''t ready. You''ve been chasing after that woman instead of training, and it''s showing. You''re angry, I get it, but this¡­this isn''t you."


    Luk''Tar''s face contorted further, his eyes zing with fury as he stalked closer.


    "Not me? NOT ME? That''s rich,ing from you! He''s stolen everything, Lhum''Baggar! Everything! First my kill, then my woman, and now¡­you.


    My own brother sounds like he''s under Volk''smand. Aborer orc! He''s nothing! And you¡­you defend him!"


    Lhum''Baggar''s patience snapped, his voice rising in anger.


    "Enough!" His massive handshed out, grabbing Luk''Tar by the arm and yanking him closer.


    "You think this is Volk''s fault? You think you''ve lost everything because of him? No, Luk''Tar. You lost because you''ve beenzy. You haven''t trained, you haven''t fought for anything, you''ve been chasing after that woman like a dog while the rest of us were bing stronger!"


    Luk''Tar tried to pull away, but Lhum''Baggar''s grip was like iron, holding him in ce.


    His brother''s words hit him hard, but instead of retreating, Luk''Tar''s anger only red hotter. His eyes shed, his chest heaving as he snarled back at Lhum''Baggar.


    "So it''s my fault now, is it? Always my fault! You''ve always med me for everything, haven''t you? When I was younger, it was ''Luk''Tar, why aren''t you training harder?'' ''Luk''Tar, why aren''t you as strong as Lhum''Baggar?''


    "Well, guess what, brother? I''m tired of it. Tired of living in your shadow, tired of beingpared to you, and now tired of hearing you side with that damned Volk!"


    Lhum''Baggar released Luk''Tar, shoving him back with a force that sent his younger brother stumbling. His own anger boiled over, and his voice thundered through the camp.


    "You think this is about me? You think I care about beingpared to you? No, Luk''Tar, this is about you! You''ve been chasing after things that don''t matter¡ªwomen, glory, whatever you think will make you important. But you''ve forgotten what it means to be an orc of the Dreadmaw n! Strength, honor, battle!


    You''ve forgotten all of it!"


    Lhum''Baggar''s chest heaved as he red at his brother, his voice filled with disappointment.


    "You lost to Volk because you weren''t ready. You let your jealousy, yourziness get in the way of what really matters. And now, you''re standing here, whining like a child because you didn''t get what you wanted.


    "Well, guess what, Luk''Tar? That''s not how our n works. You want something? You fight for it. Do you want respect? You earn it.


    Volk did, and that''s why he''s stronger than you."


    Luk''Tar stood there, chest rising and falling rapidly as he red at his brother, his eyes wild with rage.


    For a long moment, the two of them stared at each other, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a de.


    Then, suddenly, Luk''Tar''s face changed. His rage seemed to drain away, reced by something colder, more calcting. His lips curled into a cruel smile as he took a step back, his hands held up in mock surrender.


    "Fine, brother. Fine."


    His voice was low now, almost calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it that made Lhum''Baggar''s skin crawl.


    "You''re right. Maybe I have been too focused on things that don''t matter. Maybe I haven''t been training hard enough. But if that''s the case, I want to show you something."


    Lhum''Baggar narrowed his eyes, suspicious of the sudden change in his brother''s demeanor. "What are you talking about?"


    Luk''Tar''s grin widened, a twisted, unsettling smile that made Lhum''Baggar''s stomach churn. "Come with me, brother. I want you to meet someone."


    Lhum''Baggar hesitated, his instincts screaming that something was wrong. But curiosity and concern for his brother won out. "Meet someone? Who?"


    Luk''Tar''s smile didn''t falter as he turned and began walking away, his voice floating back over his shoulder. "Someone who can help me. Someone who can help us both."


    Lhum''Baggar felt a cold knot of dread form in his stomach as he watched his brother disappear into the shadows. He took a deep breath, his mind racing.


    Something was very wrong, and he couldn''t shake the feeling that whatever Luk''Tar was about to show him, it wasn''t good.


    Without another word, Lhum''Baggar followed his brother into the darkness, his heart pounding in his chest.


    As they walked, Luk''Tar''s voice floated back to him, cold and almost mocking. "I wonder what your wife will think of this¡­"


    Lhum''Baggar''s blood ran cold, his eyes widening in shock. "My wife?" he whispered, his heart skipping a beat. What was his brother nning?


    The night seemed to close in around him as Lhum''Baggar quickened his pace, his mind racing with dark thoughts.

 Chapter 66: Betrayal 2/2

    Lhum''Baggar sprinted through the darkened pathways of the Dreadmaw n''s settlement, he could feel his heart thundering in his chest as his brother mentioned his wife.


    There was a storm of emotions swirling inside him.


    His feet barely touched the ground as he rushed toward his home, his mind racing with confusion and anger after the unsettling encounter with his brother, Luk''Tar.


    The knot of dread that had been forming in his stomach tightened with each passing second.


    Something was wrong, terribly wrong.


    As he reached the entrance to his tent, the sight before him sent a shockwave through his entire body.


    His wife, the love of his life, was there, but she was tied to a thick wooden post, her arms bound tightly with ropes.


    Bruises marred her usually wless skin, her face twisted in pain and humiliation. But it wasn''t just the bruises that caused Lhum''Baggar to stagger back in horror.


    "Lhum''Ba¡­" she tried to utter his name.


    Lhum''Baggar was heartbroken, his eyes traveled down her body, and what he saw shattered his soul.


    Between her legs, the delicate protective scales that only she could close¡ªscales that once symbolized their bond, their unity¡ªhad been pried apart. An orc and elf''s bond was sacred; once formed, the elf could choose to seal her most intimate parts, ensuring that no other could touch her.


    Now, those scales were forcibly opened, ripped apart, and something vile, something unspeakable, was leaking from her.


    Lhum''Baggar''s breath caught in his throat.


    He took a step back, his mind unable to fully process what was in front of him. His eyes widened, his hands trembled uncontrobly, and his legs threatened to give out beneath him.


    "No...no...this can''t be happening..." His voice was barely a whisper, choked with disbelief. The reality was too monstrous toprehend.


    His mind screamed at him to move, to untie her, to do anything, but he was paralyzed, frozen by the sheer horror.


    His wife''s whimpers of pain and her broken gaze tore through him like a thousand knives.


    Suddenly, a cold, mockingugh filled the air, shattering the silence like ss. "Riririririri..." The voice was unmistakable, and it made Lhum''Baggar''s blood run cold. "I didn''t think you''d find her so soon, older brother. I was just getting started."


    Lhum''Baggar spun around, his eyes locking onto the shadowy figure standing at the edge of the room¡ªLuk''Tar.


    His younger brother stood there, a twisted grin stered across his face, his eyes gleaming with sickening satisfaction.


    "You...you son of a bitch!"


    Lhum''Baggar roared, his voice booming through the tent as rage exploded inside him.


    His entire body shook with fury, his fists clenching so hard that his knuckles turned white.


    Luk''Tar took a step forward, his smile widening as he continued to mock.


    "I was going to pay a visit to Solluha''r first, you know, but her ce was too well-guarded. So, I thought...why not visit your wife instead? And, brother, you never told me she was such a gem! She''s even tastier than I imagined."


    He licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with perverse delight.


    That was the final straw.


    Lhum''Baggar''s world turned red with fury. He let out a primal roar that shook the very ground beneath them.


    Without thinking, he lunged at Luk''Tar, his fists swinging wildly.


    "You filthy bastard! I''ll kill you! I''ll rip you apart!"


    Lhum''Baggar''s first punch connected with Luk''Tar''s jaw with a sickening CRACK, sending him flying across the room. But Luk''Tar onlyughed¡ªa crazed, maniacalugh that echoed through the tent, RIRIRIRIRIRIIRIII! fueling Lhum''Baggar''s rage even more.


    With a speed fueled by pure hatred, Lhum''Baggar closed the distance between them and continued his assault.


    His fists hammered down on Luk''Tar, one after another.


    BAM! BAM! BAM!


    Left, right, left, right¡ªpunches rained down like a relentless storm.


    Each strike was a thunderous blow, one could hear the sound of bone crunching and flesh tearing filling the air in the dead of the night.


    "Is this what you wanted!?" Lhum''Baggar bellowed, his voice raw with fury. "You disgusting coward!"


    But no matter how much he hit Luk''Tar, no matter how much blood spilled from his brother''s broken face, Luk''Tar onlyughed harder. Hisughter was a twisted, maddening sound, one that made Lhum''Baggar''s skin crawl.


    "You...think you can kill me?" Luk''Tar spat through bloodied teeth, his voiceced with insanity. "You think...you''re stronger than me? Go ahead...hit me...HIT ME MORE!"


    Lhum''Baggar''s rage surged to a new height, his body trembling with the intensity of his emotions.


    He lifted Luk''Tar into the air and mmed him down into the dirt, the force of the impact shaking the ground.


    "I''ll rip you apart limb by limb, you bastard!"


    Lhum''Baggar roared, his voice cracking with the strain of his fury. He raised his fist, ready to bring it down on Luk''Tar''s skull, ready to end it, to crush the life out of the monster his brother had be.


    But just as he was about to strike,


    Luk''Tar''s hand shot up, grabbing Lhum''Baggar''s wrist with inhuman strength.


    Lhum''Baggar''s eyes widened in shock as he felt a surge of power radiate from his brother''s grip.


    With a sickening KABOOM, Luk''Tar unleashed a burst of force, sending


    Lhum''Baggar flying back through the air. He crashed into the side of the tent, the impact knocking the wind out of him and leaving him gasping for breath.


    Luk''Tar stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his face with a twisted grin. His eyes glowed with a dark, unnatural energy, and his entire body seemed to pulse with raw power.


    "You think you can kill me, brother?" Luk''Tar sneered, his voice nowced with a sinister, otherworldly tone. "Let me show you...my true power."


    Lhum''Baggar struggled to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at the figure standing before him.


    This wasn''t the Luk''Tar he knew.


    This was something else¡ªsomething far more dangerous.


    Something far more monstrous.


    Luk''Tar''s body began to shift and grow, his muscles bulging grotesquely as the dark energy within him surged to the surface. His eyes zed with a malevolent light, and his twisted grin stretched wider than seemed possible.


    Lhum''Baggar''s breath came in ragged gasps as he watched in horror.


    He had never seen anything like this before.


    Whatever had happened to Luk''Tar, whatever dark power he had tapped into, it had turned him into something...unnatural.


    "You...you''ve gone mad," Lhum''Baggar whispered, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and terror. "What have you done?"


    Luk''Tarughed¡ªa deep, bone-chillingugh that sent a shiver down Lhum''Baggar''s spine.


    "I''ve embraced what you and Volk never could. Power. True power. And now, brother...I''ll show you just how weak you really are."


    With that, Luk''Tar lunged at Lhum''Baggar, his movements a blur of speed and violence.


    Lhum''Baggar barely had time to react as his brother''s fist mmed into his gut, sending him crashing through the side of the tent and into the dirt outside.


    Lhum''Baggar coughed up blood, his body wracked with pain as he struggled to push himself to his feet. But before he could fully stand, Luk''Tar was upon him again, his fists a whirlwind of fury as he pummeled Lhum''Baggar into the ground.


    WHAAAAAMMMM!!


    "Is this what you wanted, brother?"


    Luk''Tar snarled, his voice dripping with venom.


    "Is this what you wanted to see? Your precious honor, your precious strength¡ªit''s nothingpared to real power!"


    Lhum''Baggar groaned in pain, his vision swimming as the world around him blurred.


    He could feel his strength slipping away, his body breaking under the relentless assault. But even as the darkness threatened to consume him, one thought burned bright in his mind.


    He had to stop Luk''Tar.


    He had to protect the n.


    The Dreadmaw n!


    With onest surge of willpower, Lhum''Baggarshed out, catching Luk''Tar by surprise and throwing him off bnce.


    He staggered to his feet, bloodied and bruised but still standing.

 Chapter 67: LhumBaggars End

    Lhum''Baggar breathed heavily, his chest heaving as he stood ready, his eyes locked onto Luk''Tar, who now prowled around him in a predatory circle.


    The air was thick with tension, every muscle in Lhum''Baggar''s body coiled, anticipating the next strike. But there was something about Luk''Tar''s movements that unsettled him, something dark, almost feral.


    "I see it in your eyes, brother," Luk''Tar sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "You don''t understand what you''re looking at, do you?"


    He chuckled darkly, the sound crawling under Lhum''Baggar''s skin like a thousand spiders.


    Luk''Tar''s form had changed, grownrger, his muscles bulging unnaturally. His skin had taken on a darker hue, his eyes gleaming with an eerie light.


    He was not just a normal Ogre anymore.


    He had be something more.


    Something darker.


    "I''ll tell you what this is," Luk''Tar continued, circling closer, his steps deliberate, almost mocking. "This... is power. Real power. Power you''ll never know, Lhum''Baggar." He grinned, baring his teeth. "This is the Grum-gar form, Phase Three.


    A form you''ll never achieve in your pathetic life."


    Lhum''Baggar''s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of his twisted brother. "Phase Three?" he growled through clenched teeth.


    "That''s right," Luk''Tar gloated, raising his arms and flexing the grotesque muscles that rippled beneath his skin.


    "The ultimate evolution of our kind before the fifth Mag''Durotan. A power reserved only for those who are chosen. You wouldn''t understand it. You''re still fumbling around in Phase One like a child ying with sticks."


    Lhum''Baggar''s heart pounded with rage. He had worked his entire life to perfect the Grum-gar form, dedicating every ounce of his strength to the tribe, to honor. And here was Luk''Tar, mocking him, iming to have surpassed him in ways that were unfathomable.


    "You always thought you were better than me, didn''t you, brother?" Luk''Tar spat, his tone venomous. "Just because you awakened the Grum-gar form before I did. But look at you now! Weak. Pitiful. You couldn''t even protect your own wife!"


    Lhum''Baggar''s fists clenched tighter, his knuckles turning white.


    Every word Luk''Tar said stoked the fire of his fury, igniting something deep within him.


    He could feel it building, the raw power of his Grum-gar form, struggling to break free.


    "You''re wrong!" Lhum''Baggar shouted, his voice thunderous. "You''re not the only one who can transform!"


    With a guttural roar, Lhum''Baggar''s body erupted with energy, his muscles expanding, his veins bulging as his skin took on the familiar glow of the Grum-gar form.


    His transformation was violent, powerful, and within moments, he stood at the same massive height as Luk''Tar. But even with their matching size, Lhum''Baggar had something his brother didn''t¡ªyears of experience and training.


    Lhum''Baggar''s body glowed with the strength of the 5th Mag''Durotan state, a level far beyond Luk''Tar''s mere 1st. His aura radiated power, and for the first time, Luk''Tar''s sneer faltered.


    The beatdown that followed was swift and brutal.


    Lhum''Baggar unleashed his full fury upon his brother, his fists pounding into


    Luk''Tar''s body with devastating force.


    Blow after blow rained down, each one fueled by years of suppressed anger and betrayal.


    Luk''Tar''s earlier bravado quickly turned to panic as he realized he was outmatched.


    "THIS? POWER? LUK''TAR? Is this the strength you bragged about?" Lhum''Baggar roared, his fists mming into his brother''s ribs with a sickening crack.


    Luk''Tar howled in pain, but his crazedughter still echoed through the night, even as blood poured from his mouth.


    He tried to fight back, but Lhum''Baggar''s superior strength overwhelmed him.


    Desperation crept into Luk''Tar''s eyes as he struggled against his elder brother''s relentless assault.


    Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a thunderous BANG.


    Lhum''Baggar staggered as something massive struck him from behind.


    The force sent him skidding across the ground, his body mming into a boulder with bone-jarring impact.


    Dazed, he looked up, his vision blurry, trying to make sense of what had hit him.


    And then he saw him.


    Lak''Ran Durghan, their father, stood tall and imposing, his Grum-gar form even more grotesque than Luk''Tar''s. His skin was darker, almost ck, and his eyes¡ªthose once proud and fierce eyes¡ªwere nowpletely consumed by inky darkness, devoid of any light or soul.


    "FATHER...?" Lhum''Baggar muttered, struggling to his feet.


    Lak''Ran stood over him, a massive war hammer gripped in his hand, its head still dripping with Lhum''Baggar''s blood.


    "Come with us, Lhum''Baggar," Lak''Ran said, his voice a low,manding growl.


    There was something off about him, something unnatural, but Lhum''Baggar couldn''t quite ce it.


    His father had always been strict, always been harsh, but this... this was different.


    Before Lhum''Baggar could respond, a weak, trembling voice reached his ears. "Elf... Dark... Elf..."


    Lhum''Baggar''s head snapped toward the sound, his heart freezing in his chest.


    It was his wife, barely able to speak, her voice a faint whisper.


    Her body was trembling, her once beautiful features now gaunt and pale, as though something had drained the life out of her. And then it clicked¡ªthe dark magic, the strange transformation, the twisted power surrounding both Luk''Tar and their father.


    Dark Elves.


    Lhum''Baggar''s blood ran cold.


    The Dark Elves were predators, hunters of their tribe, just like the Red Elven Warlocks.


    The Hornless Orcs had long been caught in the middle of the endless war between the two, often falling victim to their insidious plots. And now, they hade for his family.


    Luk''Tar let out another derangedugh.


    "Yes, brother! The Dark Elves! My new master, Lady Shyvria, has shown me true power. She''s given me everything I''ve ever wanted¡ªstrength, more women, and freedom! No more ving away for the tribe, no more following weaklings like Volk!"


    He grinned, his madness gleaming in his eyes. "You can join us, Lhum''Baggar. You can have it all! Power beyond your wildest dreams! Just look at father¡ªlook at me! This is what we were meant to be!"


    Lhum''Baggar''s mind raced as he processed his brother''s words.


    Dark Elves.


    Luk''Tar had sold his soul to them, and now they wanted him to do the same.


    "NO...NO..." Lhum''Baggar muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. But before he could fully react, Luk''Tar moved quickly toward Lhum''Baggar''s wife, his hand gripping a strange vial filled with a glowing ck liquid.


    Luk''Tar forced the vial into her mouth, tipping her head back as the liquid poured down her throat.


    Lhum''Baggar''s heart leaped into his throat as he watched in horror, unable to move fast enough to stop it.


    Lak''Ran, standing stoic and uncaring, spoke again. "She will join us, Lhum''Baggar. It''s the only way."


    "NO!" Lhum''Baggar screamed, lunging forward, but it was toote.


    His wife''s body began to convulse, her skin darkening, her eyes turning ck like Lak''Ran''s.


    The corruption was spreading through her rapidly, consuming her from the inside out. But even in her final moments, her voice remained defiant.


    "I... will never betray... my n¡­ our n!" she gasped, her voice so weak but resolute. Her eyes locked onto Lhum''Baggar''s, filled with love and sorrow. "I... will always...


    love you."


    And then, with a violent explosion of pure hazard, her body disintegrated, leaving nothing but a void where she once stood.


    The st sent a shockwave through the air, knocking Lhum''Baggar off his feet.


    "NO... NO... NOOOO!"


    Lhum''Baggar''s scream tore through the night, with his grief and rage spilling over in an uncontroble torrent.


    His wife was gone. His brother and father had betrayed him. Everything he had ever known, ever loved, had been ripped away from him in the span of minutes.


    Lak''Ran stared down at the spot where his daughter-inw had perished, with his expression remaining cold and indifferent as if she was nothing.


    "Foolish witch," he muttered under his breath. Then, turning his gaze back to Lhum''Baggar, he said, "You''re a disappointment, my son."


    Lhum''Baggar''s eyes zed with fury as he slowly rose to his feet, his body shaking with barely contained rage. "ME¡­ KILL YOU¡­ BOOOOTH!!!!" he growled, his voice trembling with emotion. "ME¡­ KILL YOU¡­ BOOOOTH!!!!"


    The night was silent, save for the crackling of the distant fire, as father and son stared each other down, the rift between them now an unbridgeable chasm of their differences.


    "So be it," Lak''Ran would mumble.

 Chapter 68: Among Orcs

    Volk jolted awake, with his body drenched in heavy sweat.


    His heart pounded in his chest, and his breathing was ragged as if he''d just fought a battle in his sleep.


    His hand instinctively reached for his side, grasping at the nkets, his mind swirling with fragmented images of his dream.


    The sense of impending doom that had washed over him moments ago still lingered like a shadow.


    Next to him, Solluha''r stirred, her soft voice cutting through the thick fog in his mind. "Hmm? Volk, what''s wrong?" Her hand gently traced the contours of his back, the touch soothing, though her voice carried concern.


    Volk exhaled slowly, trying to calm the storm of thoughts.


    "I had a bad dream... something bad is going to happen to the tribe."


    His words came out slower than usual, heavy with a weight he couldn''t quite exin.


    He rolled over to face Solluha''r, her green eyes catching the moonlight that filtered through the window, reflecting back at him with a sense of curiosity and patience.


    "A bad dream?" Solluha''r''s brow furrowed as she adjusted herself to sit up next to him. "What did you see?"


    Volk stared at the ceiling for a long moment, trying to recall the details.


    "There was fire... destruction. I saw the tribe, running. There was a great shadow over us... something was hunting us. No, not hunting.


    It was... watching. Waiting."


    Her gaze didn''t waver as she listened intently, her hand still resting lightly on his arm. "It sounds like a vision of danger. But Volk, dreams are often not what they seem."


    Volk clenched his fist, the feeling of helplessness gnawing at him. "I know. But this felt different, more than just a dream. It felt like... a warning."


    Solluha''r moved closer, cing a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "You''ve been through so much these past days. Fighting Zenveil, navigating that catb, retrieving that crystal¡­ your mind is exhausted. The burden you''re carrying is heavy."


    Volk let out a slow breath, his muscles rxing slightly at her touch. "Maybe you''re right. Maybe it''s just the weight of everything catching up to me."


    There was afortable silence between them for a few moments, the night air cool against their skin. Solluha''rid her head on Volk''s chest, her breath soft and steady as if trying to share her calm with him.


    "You always worry about everyone," she said quietly. "Even in your sleep, you can''t let go of that responsibility."


    "It''s my job," Volk muttered, though his voicecked its usual conviction. "If I don''t protect them... who will?"


    Solluha''r tilted her head to look up at him, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "You''re not alone, Volk. You''ve got me, the other Orcs, the Elves. You don''t have to carry this weight by yourself."


    He smiled faintly, cing hisrge hand over hers. "You always know what to say."


    "I just know you," she replied softly, her fingers entwining with his. "And I know how hard you push yourself. But even the strongest need rest. You can''t protect the tribe if you''re worn down."


    Volk let out a low chuckle, though it didn''t quite reach his eyes. "You make it sound so simple."


    "It is simple," she said, smiling gently at him. "But that doesn''t mean it''s easy."


    For a while, they simplyy there, letting the quiet stretch between them.


    The tension in Volk''s body gradually eased, and the storm in his mind began to settle.


    Solluha''r''s presence was grounding, like the earth beneath his feet¡ªa reminder that even in the face of overwhelming odds, there was always something solid to hold onto.


    He exhaled again, feeling a little lighter, and his thoughts turned to his abilities.


    He nced at his fist, and with a faint sh in his mind, he heard the familiar ding! of his internal system.


    | Ding!


    | 1. Nuclear Devastation Botanical Strike: (10)


    | 2. Nuclear Devastation Wind Strike: (6)


    | 3. Nuclear Devastation Earth Strike: (10)


    | 4. Nuclear Devastation Water Strike: (3) |


    His eyes widened slightly as he focused on the third option. "Has my Earth magic improved?" he muttered aloud.


    Solluha''r looked up at him, intrigued. "What do you mean?"


    "The crystal I took from the dungeon... it must''ve done something. My Earth magic... it''s stronger now." He nced at her, still half-wondering how he had unlocked this improvement. "You said it was a Stone and Earth magic crystal, right?"


    She nodded, brushing her hair back from her face. "Yes, exactly. Since you don''t have any natural affinity for Stone magic, the crystal must have channeled its energy directly into your Earth magic."


    Volk flexed his fingers, the power humming through him, raw and unyielding. "Makes sense. I feel... like I can move mountains with this."


    "You probably can," Solluha''r teased, smiling at him. "But you''ll need all that strength tomorrow. Today, we should focus on resting. There''s no telling what the migration will bring."


    Just as they settled back into thefort of each other''s presence, a loud trumpet st tore through the air. The sound was jarring, high-pitched, and urgent.


    Zeeeeeeeeeeenng!


    Volk shot up from the bed, his instincts kicking in immediately. Solluha''r followed, both of them now fully alert.


    "That''s the signal," Volk muttered, grabbing his nearby gear.


    Another sound followed, a booming male Orc voice resonating through the vige. "All Orcs, assemble! Prepare your necessities first!"


    Volk and Solluha''r exchanged a quick nce. Without wasting any time, they scrambled to gather what they needed for the journey.


    A second voice followed shortly after, this one was feminine, smooth yetmanding. "Elves, prepare and assemble!"


    Themanding tone cut through the early dawn, signaling that the time hade.


    Solluha''r pulled on her traveling garb, her movements fast but precise.


    "It''s time," Volk said, nodding toward her.


    His gaze shifted toward the small bundle of supplies he had hastily thrown together.


    They didn''t need much, just the essentials.


    There would be no looking back once they left.


    They both stood in silence for a moment, then Solluha''r gave him a quick smile. "We''ve got this," she said, her voice filled with confidence that Volk desperately needed to hear.


    Outside, the Orcs and Elves were already gathering, the heavy atmosphere thick with the weight of the unknown.


    One by one, they emerged from their tower homes, their faces grim as they prepared to leave behind the ce they had called home for so long.


    The air felt different, heavier, as though thend itself mourned their departure.


    Volk and Solluha''r joined the line of Orcs, standing shoulder to shoulder with theirrades.


    The somberness of the moment washed over their presence like a wave of mournful mist, the realization that this might be thest time they stood on their homnd pressing down on their chest.


    Volk''s hand tightened into a fist, his eyes scanning the crowd.


    There was something else here, a hidden danger lurking just beyond their sight.


    As they moved slowly toward the gathering point, a familiar ding! echoed in his mind once again.


    | Ding!


    | Mission: Find at least one of the traitors.


    | Rewards: High-level Boxing.


    | Failure: Nuclear Devastation Earth Strike will be lost. |


    Volk''s eyes widened, with his heart immediately skipping


    a beat.


    Traitors?


    For real?


    There were traitors among them, and he had no idea who they could be.

 Chapter 69: Missing Orc: LhumBaggar

    Volk stood still amidst the crowd of Orcs and Elves, with his hand hovering over his chest as his heart raced with uncertainty.


    The mission that had just appeared in his mind, the cold, mechanical voice of his system, echoed again:


    | Find at least one of the traitors. |


    Those words in the mission felt like it wastching on him.


    The tribe was preparing to march, and yet there was a traitor among them.


    Volk closed his eyes, trying to center himself in his head, his mind began to think carefully and to make sense of it all.


    Where should he start?


    Who could it be?


    He knew this wasn''t some random challenge.


    The system never gave him missions unless they were tied to events directly involving him.


    The enemy had to be someone he had already encountered.


    ''It had to be,'' he reasoned, trying to calm the rising panic in his chest.


    Volk had long learned that his system didn''t simply give vaguemands.


    It activated in response to situations where he was directly involved.


    If the mission asked him to find a traitor, it meant the traitor was someone in his immediate sphere¡ªsomeone he had met, fought with, or even shared a conversation with.


    Volk drew a slow breath, organizing his thoughts as he began to recall every face, every interaction he''d had over the past few weeks.


    ''Who who who?'' he asked himself.


    This wasn''t just a casual challenge; it was personal.


    He thought back to Grak''thor, the butcher.


    The image of Grak''thor loomedrge in his mind, his massive form draped in furs, his hands stained red from the day''s work.


    Grak''thor said he had arrived from a tribe that had been destroyed, iming to have been the sole survivor of a brutal assault.


    Volk remembered how the butcher exined how had he integrated into the Dreadmaw n, offering his skills in exchange for a ce among them. But something about Grak''thor''s story always seemed... iplete.


    ''Why did I think of him first?''


    Volk asked himself, his thoughts were in circles.


    There was something about his arrival that had struck him as odd.


    Grak''thor hade from nowhere, just as the Dreadmaw n was beginning to consolidate its power.


    He had stories of his tribe being ughtered by raiders, of escaping by the skin of his teeth. But Volk had learned long ago that anyone who survived such devastation either came back broken or filled with a thirst for vengeance.


    Grak''thor seemed... indifferent, too quick to blend into the everyday life of the n, as though the destruction of his former people was of little concern.


    But then, Volk shook his head.


    No, he thought, G


    Grak''thor saved Grok''Thar''s mother, didn''t he?


    He vividly recalled Grok''Thar''s tale, recounting how Grak''thor had risked his life to save her from a pack of wild beasts, earning the n''s respect.


    In fact, Grak''thor had even honored Volk by giving him a magical crystal in exchange for one of the finest pieces of meat.


    That didn''t seem like the act of a traitor.


    Volk bit his lip, his brow furrowing deeper as he moved on to the next name in his mind:


    Gozorm''al, one of the elders.


    He remembered his duel with the old Orc, a contest of strength and pride that ended in Gozorm''al''s defeat.


    The elder had underestimated Volk, thinking his youth would betray him, but Volk had proven his might.


    At the time, Gozorm''al had offered him a token of respect: bone armor, a prized possession handed down from his ancestors.


    It was a sign of honor, something a traitor would never offer.


    Volk shook his head again, casting the suspicion away.


    Gozorm''al wasn''t the type to betray his kin.


    The old Orc had lived through countless battles and had no reason to seek the tribe''s downfall.


    If anything, he wasmitted to seeing the Dreadmaw n thrive, even if it meant stepping aside for the younger generation.


    Volk''s frustration grew as he ran through the list of Orcs in his mind.


    Each one had a story, a reason why they couldn''t be the traitor.


    He had fought and spent time alongside them, shared food with them.


    Who would betray them?


    Suddenly, his eyes widened as he remembered someone he hadn''t thought of in all this time.


    His gaze drifted to the axe strapped to his side¡ªthe axe given to him by Lhum''Baggar after their duel.


    Where was Lhum''Baggar?


    Volk frowned.


    He had seen Grok''Thar, Grashk, and many of the others since the preparations for the migration had begun. But Lhum''Baggar?


    He hadn''t seen him or his elven wife since yesterday.


    The longer he thought about it, the more troubling it became.


    Lhum''Baggar was not the type to simply disappear.


    He was proud, strong, and well respected in the n.


    He wouldn''t vanish without reason.


    "Where is Lhum''Baggar?"


    Volk muttered under his breath. He clenched his fists, his mind racing.


    Why hadn''t he thought of it before?


    Lhum''Baggar was always involved in n matters.


    It made no sense for him to be absent during such an important event.


    Volk''s thoughts began to spiral.


    Could it be?


    The pieces were slowly falling into ce.


    The axe Lhum''Baggar had given him¡ªit had always felt heavier than it should.


    Something about the weapon felt... off, as if it carried a secret of its own. And now, with the mission ringing in his ears, Volk couldn''t shake the growing suspicion that Lhum''Baggar''s disappearance was tied to the traitor''s identity.


    His heart pounded faster, and his grip tightened on the handle of the axe.


    There was no proof, not yet. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.


    Lhum''Baggar was gone.


    Was he hiding something? Or worse¡ªhad he betrayed them all?


    As Volk''s mind raced, a sudden sound broke through the heavy silence.


    "Dreadmaw n, MAAARRCCHHH!!!"


    The boomingmand reverberated through the air, shaking Volk out of his thoughts.


    The rest of the tribe began to stir, their movements quick and deliberate as they prepared to move.


    The urgency in the air was palpable, as if the entire n could sense that this migration wasn''t just a simple journey¡ªit was an escape.


    They were leaving something behind, something dangerous.


    Volk stood frozen in ce as the others began to fall in line. His thoughts still circled around Lhum''Baggar, the axe, the mission.


    It all pointed in the same direction, but it felt iplete, like a half-finished puzzle with the final piece just out of reach.


    He looked down at the axe again, his fingers tracing its cold, metal surface.


    There was something here, something rted to Lhum''Baggar.


    Volk''s instincts screamed at him to act, to stop everything, to demand answers. But hesitation was eating his head.


    What if he was wrong?


    What if Lhum''Baggar was innocent?


    But what if he wasn''t?


    As the tribe prepared to march, Volk''s heart hammered in his chest, every second became heavy.


    He could feel it now, the pulse of danger running through the air, the eyes of the traitor watching from the shadows.


    With every passing moment, the sense of urgency grew, until it threatened to crush his soul.


    Finally, Volk couldn''t take it anymore.


    The pressure built to a boiling point, and before he knew it, he was shouting at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing across the camp.


    "WAAAAIIIIIIIIIIITTTTT!!!!!!!"

 Chapter 70: Found one

    Volk''s voice echoed again, desperationcing his words as he screamed, "WAIIIIIIITTTTT!"


    His throat felt raw, and his breath came in harsh gasps, hoping to catch their attention, but his pleas were drowned out by the sounds of the marching Orcs and Elves.


    The n was on the move, and no one paid him any mind, no one seemed to care about his shout.


    Beside him, Solluha''r, her brow furrowed in concern, reached out to grip her husband''s arm. "Volk, what''s going on?" she asked, her voice low yet insistent. Her violet eyes searched his face, seeing the turmoil written across it.


    "There''s a traitor," Volk muttered, almost to himself, the weight of the usation pressing down on his chest. His heart thudded heavily against his ribcage.


    Solluha''r''s sharp ears picked up his words instantly, and she stiffened.


    "A traitor?" she repeated, shocked. Her mind raced. "How do you know this?" she pressed, pulling him to the side of the moving line, her tone urgent.


    Volk hesitated.


    He couldn''t just blurt out that his system had delivered this message.


    It wasn''t something anyone could easily understand¡ªhis abilities were still mysterious even to him. "I can''t exin," he said atst, shaking his head. "But I know it''s true. Someone in the tribe is working against us."


    Solluha''r narrowed her eyes, her agile mind whirring as she took in his words. She trusted Volk¡ªmore than anyone. But this was a dangerous im. "Who do you think it is?" she asked carefully, her voice steady despite the rising tension.


    Volk swallowed hard, ncing around at the marching Orcs and Elves, some of whom shot curious nces in their direction. "Lhum''Baggar. It''s connected to him somehow."


    "Lhum''Baggar?" Solluha''r echoed, her eyes shing with rm. She bit her lip, thinking. "But where is he? I haven''t seen him or his wife since you told me about the catbs yesterday."


    Her voice trailed off as the realization hit her, her sharp mind piecing things together faster than Volk could. "Wait... don''t tell me..." Her eyes grew wide, and she whispered, "Luk''Tar?"


    Volk''s eyes snapped to hers, and a cold chill ran down his spine.


    How had he not thought of Luk''Tar? His mind reyed the confrontations he had against Lhum''Baggar''s younger brother, Luk''Tar.


    The hate on his face when Volk stole Solluha''r from him.


    The tension between them had always simmered, but now... now, he could feel something far darker seemed to be at y.


    Could Luk''Tar be involved?


    Before he could respond, a presence approached from behind.


    The faint sound of footsteps stopped near them, and a feminine voice, tinged with authority, cut through the air.


    "Why are you screaming ''wait'' for?" the voice asked, calm but with a quiet force that demanded an answer.


    Volk and Solluha''r turned simultaneously to face the neer.


    A tall, elegant Elf stood before them. She was strikingly beautiful, her golden hair flowing down her back in intricate braids, her pale skin radiant in the moonlight. But there was more than beauty to this woman¡ªthere was power.


    She held herself with themanding presence of someone used to being obeyed. Her amber eyes gleamed with curiosity as she studied Volk.


    Her scent hit them next, a subtle mixture of floral oils and something... ancient, something that made Volk immediately aware that she wasn''t just any Elf.


    This was someone with status, someone the older members of the Dreadmaw n probably knew well.


    "Well?" the Elf said again, her voice even, but the hint of amusement in her tone irritated Volk.


    "Why are you causing such a disturbance when we are in the middle of marching? Or are you unaware that we are trying to flee from Warlocks?" Her smile was thin and sharp, like the edge of a de.


    Volk opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.


    He didn''t know how to exin it¡ªhow to use one of their own in front of someone so imposing. But Solluha''r gave him a subtle nod, encouraging him to speak.


    He had no choice.


    If he stayed silent now, the traitor could or might escape.


    With hesitation, Volk finally answered, his voice low but firm, "I... I can feel it. There''s a traitor among us."


    The Elf raised one perfect brow, thenughed lightly, though itcked warmth. "A traitor? Now? You choose now to make such a im?" Her amber eyes sparkled with amusement as if Volk had just told her a joke.


    "We''re fleeing from the Red Warlocks, Orc. Do you think this is the time to start using your own?"


    Her smile vanished, and her eyes sharpened. "Tell me, who do you believe is the traitor? I''m curious."


    Volk hesitated again, ncing at Solluha''r for reassurance before he finally said, "Lhum''Baggar. It''s connected to him."


    The Elf''s expression changed instantly. Her yful demeanor evaporated, reced by a look of cold calction.


    "Lhum''Baggar?" she repeated, the name hanging in the air like a dark cloud. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as if processing the information. "What''s his surname?"


    Volk blinked, his mind racing for the answer. Then, he replied, "Durghan."


    The moment the name left his lips, the Elf''s reaction was immediate. Her face twisted into shock, her amber eyes wide as she stepped back slightly, processing what Volk had just said.


    There was a brief silence before she straightened, her face now a mask of grim suspicion.


    Without warning, the Elf raised her hand, and a stream of shimmering magic particles flowed from her fingertips.


    The air around them vibrated as her magic coalesced into a sphere of light. Then, her voice, amplified by her magic, boomed across the camp.


    "HAAAAAALLLTT!!"


    The power of her voice carried far and wide, stopping the entire march in its tracks.


    Every Orc, every Elf, every being within the Dreadmaw n froze as themand echoed through the night.


    The Elf''s eyes burned with intensity as she nced at Volk before shouting again, "Lak''Ran Durghan, you are summoned!"


    For a moment, silence filled the air, thick with tension. And then, in the distance, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed back in response.


    Discover magic on m_v_l_e_m_p_y_r


    The ground trembled slightly as something¡ªsomeone¡ªapproached.


    Soon, a massive figure stepped forward from the shadows, and Volk''s heart skipped a beat.


    Lak''Ran Durghan, the father of Lhum''Baggar and Luk''Tar, appeared. His hulking form cast a long shadow, and the air around him seemed to pulse with dark energy.


    His skin, once the color of a rich, earthen brown, now held a darker hue, almost as if tainted by something unnatural. His eyes¡ªpitch ck, void of any emotion¡ªstared out at the crowd, radiating menace.


    Volk felt his body tense instinctively, sensing the overwhelming magical energying from Lak''Ran.


    It was oppressive, suffocating.


    Every particle in the air seemed to hum with danger.


    This was not just any Orc.


    This was someone who had dabbled in powers far beyond the normal Grum-gar form. His aura felt tainted, corrupted by something... dark.


    Lak''Ran Durghan''s gaze fell upon Volk, and for a brief moment, the two locked eyes.


    The oppressive power of the elder Orc washed over Volk, and the realization hit him like a thunderbolt.


    His voice trembled, but the words spilled out before he could stop them.


    "You... you are one of the traitors!"

 Chapter 71: Traitors requiem

    The crowd of Orcs and Elves around Volk began murmuring, one could see their voices were growing louder and louder, and each was filled with confusion and curiosity.


    Volk could hear snippets of conversations swirling around him, bits of dialogue that made the tension in the air even thicker.


    "Did he just say Lak''Ran is a traitor?"


    "The Labor Orc must be mistaken... Lak''Ran? No way."


    "But why would he say that? Labor Orcs don''t just throw around usations."


    "I thought Lak''Ran was one of the strongest among the Dreadmaw n... Why would he betray us?"


    "Maybe the Labor Orc''s onto something. Labor Orcs are known for their sensitivity to magic. What if he''s right?"


    Volk''s ears caught every word, every doubt and concern rippling through the ranks of the tribe. He could feel eyes boring into him from all directions, some suspicious, others filled with questions they didn''t dare to ask aloud.


    Then, a sudden Ding! echoed in his mind, the unmistakable sound of the system''s notification.


    | Ding!


    A message shed before his eyes:


    | Mission Completed.


    | You have found one of the traitors.


    | Rewards received:


    | High-level Boxing. |


    ¡ª


    | Name: Volk Mog''ger


    | Status: Hornless Orc Tribe Kaz''rogal (Current Year), and the Warlock yer.


    | Age:  18


    | Level: Fifth Stage Mag''Durotan


    | Passive Ability: Radioactive Form (Duration: Nine Minutes)


    | Normal Abilities:


    | - Radioactive Absorption.


    | - Basic Mastery of Axe Handling.


    | - High-level Boxing. |


    The words filled Volk''s vision, but along with them came a sense of rity.


    The haze that had clouded his mind ever since the march were lifted, leaving him feeling more aware, more focused than ever before.


    His body tingled with an unknown energy, as if his muscles were now perfectly tuned, ready to unleash powerful strikes.


    Volk flexed his hand into a fist, feeling the strength surge through his knuckles. He could almost feel himself punching through solid rock without even breaking a sweat.


    But before he could even revel in his new strength, another Ding! followed almost immediately, bringing with it a new wave of dread.


    | Ding!


    | New Mission: Expose all of the traitors with 3 star rating or higher without turning into Grum-gar form.


    | Traitor: 054.


    | Rewards:


    | 5 Star = Grandmaster-level Muay Thai Kickboxing.


    | 4 Star = Master-level Muay Thai Kickboxing.


    | 3 Star = Expert-level Muay Thai Kickboxing.


    | 2 Star = Basic-level Muay Thai Kickboxing.


    | 1 Star = Low-level Muay Thai Kickboxing.


    | Failure: Will be the annihtion of the Dreadmaw n. |


    Volk''s brow furrowed deeply.


    "What?!"


    It was like a heavy sledgehammer from heaven.


    This is heavy!


    "And Fifty-four?" he muttered under his breath. His mind began to go round and round as he processed the impossible task before him.


    How could there be so many traitors among the Dreadmaw n?


    His system had never given him such an overwhelming mission, rewards and failure before.


    Fifty-four traitors¡ªhow was he supposed to find and deal with all of them?


    As the silence stretched and Volk tried to grasp the weight of his mission, a loud, deepugh erupted from Lak''Ran.


    "RUGAGHAHAHAHAHAHA!"


    The sound was booming, almost shaking the ground beneath Volk''s feet.


    Lak''Ran doubled over, clutching his belly as hisughter echoed through the air.


    "RUGAGHAHAHAHAHAHA!"


    The crowd fell silent, their attention drawn to the imposing figure of Lak''Ran Durghan.


    "Me? A traitor?" Lak''Ran said, his voice thick with mockery as he wiped a tear from his eye.


    "Labor Orc, you must have hit your head a little too hard in thatst fight. Do you truly believe I would betray the Dreadmaw n? The very n I''ve fought for, bled for, and protected for longer than you''ve been alive?"


    He shook his head, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "This is the most absurd usation I''ve ever heard."


    Volk stood his ground, his muscles tense, watching Lak''Ran''s theatrics.


    The elder Orc''sughter was filled with arrogance, and the crowd seemed to be caught between the absurdity of the usation and themanding presence of the used.


    Lak''Ran smirked as he nced around at the gathered tribe members.


    "Volk, you''re nothing more than a Labor Orc. You should have stayed among the ranks of your kind, used as nothing but cannon fodder to distract the Warlocks while the real warriors of the Dreadmaw n make their escape." New chapters at m v|le|mp|yr


    He paused, his tone turning cold and derisive.


    "You were never meant for anything more thanbor and death. So what makes you think you have the right to use me¡ªone of the Grum-gar elite¡ªof something as ridiculous as treason?"


    The crowd was silent now, waiting for Volk''s response.


    Lak''Ran''s words hung heavy in the air, full of contempt, and Volk could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him.


    Lak''Ran stepped forward, his towering form casting a long shadow over Volk.


    "Tell me, Labor Orc, what proof do you have of this oundish im? What evidence could someone like you possibly present to make anyone believe that I, Lak''Ran Durghan, am a traitor?"


    Volk clenched his fists, with his head working furiously.


    He knew that this was his moment¡ªhe had to be convincing.


    He took a deep breath, his voice steady despite the pressure.


    "I may be a Labor Orc, but we are known for one thing¡ªour sensitivity to hazardous magic particles. And right now, I can sense it all around you."


    A murmur ran through the crowd.


    Orcs and Elves exchanged looks, whispering to one another.


    What Volk had said wasn''t a lie.


    Labor Orcs were known for their heightened sensitivity to magic, specifically to dangerous, corrupt magic.


    It was what made them valuable in mines and ces where magical residue could poison normal beings. But it was also what made them expendable in war¡ªeasy to sacrifice for being weak.


    "That''s ridiculous!" Lak''Ran spat, though there was a hint of unease in his voice. "Sensitivity to magic? That''s not enough evidence to use me of treason. You think your heightened senses make you some kind of truth-teller?"


    Volk narrowed his eyes.


    "It''s not just that. You carry something... something that feels wrong. It''s not just magic. It''s corrupted, tainted. And I''m not the only one who can feel it."


    This statement caused a stir among the crowd. More murmurs. More shifting.


    The eyes of many Orcs and Elves flicked toward Lak''Ran, their expressions no longer as certain as they had been just moments ago.


    Lak''Ran sneered, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes.


    "Tainted? You think you''re special because you can sense a bit of magic in the air? That''sughable." He spread his arms wide, as if daring anyone to step forward.


    "Go ahead! Call every Labor Orc in the camp! Let them alle and tell me if they feel this so-called corruption. But you''ll find nothing. You''re grasping at straws, Volk."


    Volk stared at him. His face felt hard.


    He could feel the tension building in the air.


    This was his moment¡ªif he faltered now, if he hesitated, Lak''Ran would slip through his fingers, and the traitors would continue to poison the tribe from within.


    He raised his chin, his voice firm and resolute. "Do it. Call them all. Let every Labor Orc who''s awakened the Grum-gar forme and tell us what they sense."


    The challenge was unexpected.


    The crowd watched in silence, their breaths held as they waited for Lak''Ran''s response.


    There was no backing down now.


    Lak''Ran''s sneer faltered for just a moment before he regained hisposure, but the tension between the two Orcs was palpable.


    The dawn was still, save for the crackling of the nearby fires, casting long shadows over the waiting tribe.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 72: Where is he?

    As the dawn dragged on and the atmosphere in the cold windy air continued to thicken, a murmur passed through the crowd as someone had gone to fetch the Labor Orcs who had awakened the Grum-gar form.


    In the stillness that followed, Lak''Ran''s booming voice cut through the quiet.


    "So, Volk," Lak''Ran began, his tone dripping with mockery, "you use me, Lak''Ran Durghan, of being a traitor? You stand here, trembling in your little boots, calling on the Labor Orcs to vouch for you?"


    He took a step forward, chest puffed out with arrogance. His eyes gleamed as if enjoying the spectacle.


    "You think I don''t have friends among the Labor Orcs? People who would stand beside me rather than listen to your ridiculous ims?"


    Lak''Ran paused, grinning as his eyes roved over the gathered crowd.


    "If I were really a traitor, tell me¡ªwho am I working with? The Warlocks? Oh, that''s rich! Let me guess, little Labor Orc, you believe that I''ve been sneaking around in the shadows, plotting with the Warlocks against our tribe, against our people?"


    Volk remained silent, his jaw clenched, waiting for Lak''Ran to finish his tirade.


    The crowd was watching, hanging on every word, their murmurs filling the gaps between Lak''Ran''s speeches.


    Lak''Ran''s eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.


    "Or is it something else, little Labor Orc? Hmm? Maybe you''re trying to conspire against my son, Luk''Tar. Maybe you''re trying to get him kicked out of the tribe so you can have Solluha''r all to yourself?"


    The words cut through the air like a de, and the crowd seemed to draw in a collective breath.


    Solluha''r stiffened at Volk''s side, with her eyes narrowing as she focused on Lak''Ran''s usations.


    Volk felt his blood rising and bing hot within him, but he kept his mouth shut, unwilling to give Lak''Ran the satisfaction of a reaction.


    Lak''Ran smirked, noticing Solluha''r''s difort. His eyes flicked toward her, and the smirk widened into a full, wicked grin.


    "Ah, I see her now," he said, his voice dripping with mockery.


    "This is the Labor Orc you''ve chosen, Solluha''r? The one you''ve cast your lot with instead of my son? Can''t you see the deceit in his eyes? Can''t you see the n he''s hatching? It''s obvious, isn''t it? He''s jealous of Luk''Tar.


    He wants to be the hero, the savior, and the lover all at once, doesn''t he?"


    Solluha''r shifted uneasily, her face carefully neutral, but Volk could sense her difort growing.


    Lak''Ran''s voice grew louder as he continued. "Oh, Solluha''r, have you forgotten the promises you made to Luk''Tar? Have you forgotten all those moments you shared with him? The bond, the future, the destiny that you two were supposed to have together?"


    His grin turned even more malicious, and his tone dripped with false concern. "And now you''ve just¡­ reced him with this? A deceitful Labor Orc?"


    Lak''Ran''s eyes glittered as he leaned in closer, his voice bing even more venomous.


    "If I were Luk''Tar, I''d have taken your purity long ago, before this traitor could every his filthy hands on you. But here you are, standing by this¡­ this nothing of an Orc. How shameful."


    Volk''s eyes red with rage.


    His fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. He could see the difort growing in Solluha''r, the subtle flinch in her posture, the tension in her jaw.


    Before he could stop himself, Volk growled, with a sharp and extremelymanding voice he would shout, "ENOUGH!"


    Lak''Ran''s mockingughter echoed once again, but before he could continue his verbal assault, a voice called out from behind the crowd.


    "Here is Vulnarran!" someone announced.


    The crowd parted slightly as a figure approached¡ªa Labor Orc, just like Volk, but there was something off about him.


    Vulnarran stood tall, his muscles rippling beneath his rough, scarred skin, but unlike most Labor Orcs, a dark aura seemed to cling to him.


    His eyes, though bright, held a strange shadow, something that made the hairs on the back of Volk''s neck stand on end.


    Volk''s heart sank.


    He could feel it¡ªthere was something deeply wrong with Vulnarran.


    "Look at him," Lak''Ran said, waving a hand toward the approaching Labor Orc. "This is one of my friends, Volk. A Labor Orc, just like you. Are you going to tell me that he''s a traitor, too? I''m sure he could have told anyone if I was a traitor long ago, so what''s you say?"


    Volk''s gaze fixed on Vulnarran.


    His head began to spin as he tried to process what he was feeling and what he was seeing in his eyes.


    The dark aura surrounding Vulnarran was undeniable.


    The sensation was unmistakable¡ªit was the same corruption he had sensed around Lak''Ran.


    Suddenly, without thinking, Volk blurted out, "He is also a traitor."


    A gasp rippled through the crowd, louder this time.


    The gathered Orcs and Elves looked between Volk, Lak''Ran, and Vulnarran, confusion and rm evident on their faces.


    Murmurs began to rise again, louder than before.


    "What did he say?"


    "Another traitor?"


    "Don''t tell mebor Orc is just making things up?"


    Lak''Ran threw his head back andughed, the sound cruel and mocking. "Volk, what''s your n here? Are you going to use every Orc in this tribe of being a traitor? Are you going to start pointing fingers until no one is left? It''s pathetic."


    Volk stood firm, though doubt felt was digging at him from within.


    How could so many traitors exist in the tribe?


    The number was staggering¡ªfifty-four.


    It didn''t seem possible.


    Lak''Ran stepped closer, his face twisted into a sneer. "Why don''t you just return to the Labor Orcs where you belong, little Volk? You seem to be better at digging in the dirt than standing with warriors. Why not take your little usations and crawl back into the holes we''ve dug for you?"


    But Volk''s thoughts were racing. Something Lak''Ran said struck a chord deep within him. His breath hitched as the realization crashed over him.


    His eyes widened as his mind raced through the recent days, the faces of those he had interacted with, and the one ring absence among them.


    "Where is Lhum''Baggar?" Volk suddenly asked, his voice low but firm.


    Lak''Ran''s smirk faltered for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to confirm Volk''s suspicions.


    The crowd, sensing the shift in the air, quieted down, waiting for what was toe next.


    "Where is Lhum''Baggar?" Volk repeated, his voice louder now, demanding an answer. "He was with us yesterday, in the catbs. Where is he now?"


    Lak''Ran''s sneer slowly returned, but there was a new edge to it, something darker, more dangerous. "Lhum''Baggar?" he drawled, his voice thick with condescension.


    "You think he has something to do with this? Are you going to drag him into this absurd usation of yours, too?"


    But Volk wasn''t backing down. His fists clenched, his jaw set, and his eyes burned with determination. "Tell me where he is."


    The crowd was on edge, their murmurs silenced as they waited for Lak''Ran''s next move.


    Everyone was watching, waiting to see what would happen next.

 Chapter 73: KORNUUM DRHAKAR

    Lak''Ran raised his hands, palms open wide, as if he were addressing a grand assembly. His voice boomed,manding attention as it echoed across the crowd.


    "Ah, so this is where we''re headed, huh?" He began to pace slowly, his eyes scanning the gathered Orcs and Elves, his lips curling into a mocking smile.


    "We all knew this wasing. But let mey it out clearly for everyone."


    He turned toward Volk, his sneer deepening.


    "At the end of the day, this little Labor Orc, Volk, just hates us. Maybe it''s because he feels inferior? Maybe it''s because, no matter how many crystals he digs up from the ground, no matter how many Grum-gar forms he awakens, he''ll never truly belong."


    The crowd was silent, their eyes darting between Lak''Ran and Volk, waiting for more.


    "And why? What drives this hatred of his?" Lak''Ran''s voice took on a taunting, almost yful edge.


    "I''ll tell you why. It''s simple. It''s because, deep down, Volk is jealous. Yes, jealous. You see, he knows that even now, even after everything, his wife¡ªSolluha''r¡ªstill carries Luk''Tar in her heart."


    Lak''Ranughed, the sound harsh and grating.


    "Isn''t that right, Volk? That''s what eats you up inside, isn''t it? That''s what makes you want to get rid of us. You think you can erase Luk''Tar from her heart by using me¡ªusing us¡ªof being traitors?"


    Theughter continued, his voice booming over the quiet murmurs of the crowd. "Poor Volk, blinded by rage, driven by jealousy. He just can''t stand the fact that he''s second best!"


    Volk clenched his fists, feeling the weight of Lak''Ran''s words press down on him, but he stayed silent, his eyes fixed on Lak''Ran, burning with anger.


    The crowd began to whisper amongst themselves, their voices rising like the hum of distant bees. "Volk doesn''t have clear evidence," one Orc muttered.


    "Maybe Lak''Ran''s right," an Elf added. "What if Volk is just angry because of Luk''Tar?"


    "I don''t know," another voice chimed in, "Lak''Ran''s always been loyal to the n. Why would he betray us now?"


    The whispers grew louder, swirling around Volk, filling his ears with doubt and suspicion.


    He could hear every word, every skeptical murmur that cast shadows on his ims.


    The weight of their doubt pressed on him, but Volk''s resolve didn''t waver. He couldn''t afford to let it.


    Lak''Ran grinned, reveling in the crowd''s uncertainty. "See?" he said, spreading his arms wide.


    "Even they can see it, Volk. Even they know the truth. You''re just a jealous fool, trying to bring us down because you can''t stand the thought of being second in Solluha''r''s heart!"


    But then Volk''s lips curled into a small, defiant smile. "Heh."


    He crossed his arms over his chest, his voice low but clear.


    "Or maybe, Lak''Ran, you silenced your own son¡ªLhum''Baggar¡ªbecause he found out you were the traitor."


    The words hit Lak''Ran like a blow.


    It was like a guillotine in his neck thatnded from the high heavens.


    His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, a flicker of fury passing through his face before it was quickly masked.


    His hands clenched into fists at his sides as his voice rose into a furious roar. "LUK''TAAAAAAAAAR!"


    The name echoed across the clearing like a shockwave that everyone¡ªevery single Orcs and Elves that there could hear and feel in the little hairs of their skins, and within moments, a figure emerged from the crowd with a thud.


    Luk''Tar strode forward, tall and imposing, and his presencemanded immediate attention to everyone in the crowd.


    But Volk''s sharp eyes noticed it right away¡ªthe dark magic particles clinging to him like a shadow, just like Lak''Ran. Another traitor.


    Luk''Tar''s gaze bore into Volk, and he was filled with righteous fury. "Here I am again, Volk," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.


    "You only proved yourself right because you won the fight, surprising me with your Grum-gar form that was already in phase two. As an Orc who honors his tribe, I didn''t respond to your usations because I clearly lost due to your surprise.


    "And now, you''re still unsatisfied. You use me, my father, and now my brother?


    "Lhum''Baggar sacrificed himself for this n. He was willing to act as a decoy to lure the Warlocks away so the rest of us could escape. He was a hero, Volk. A hero! And now you stand here, using him of betrayal? Of all things?"


    Volk narrowed his eyes, his mind immediately came up with a reason to answer Luk''Tar''s im.


    "Your brother," he said slowly, "awakened his Grum-gar form in its third phase. The n would never sacrifice someone with that kind of talent. Not unless they were fools."


    A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, louder this time. Volk could hear them clearly.


    "He''s right," an Orc muttered. "A young one who''s reached phase three of Grum-gar? That''s rare. That kind of talent is valuable. Why would the tribe sacrifice someone like that?"


    Another voice added, "The n would never send someone with so much potential to die as bait. Lhum''Baggar should have been with us."


    The murmurs grew louder, confusion and doubt spreading through the ranks as they questioned the story of Lhum''Baggar''s supposed sacrifice.


    Luk''Tar''s face twisted in anger, his eyes shing with frustration. "You''re making this up, Volk!" he spat, taking a step closer. "You think you can just throw out usations and twist the truth to fit your narrative?"


    He paused, his eyes narrowing as an idea seemed to take shape in his mind. "Fine. You want proof? Let''s settle this the old way, then. Hand-to-handbat. No weapons, no magic.


    Just you and me. If you beat me, I will fetch my brother myself."


    The crowd fell silent, the tension in the air immediately went thick and palpable as they awaited Volk''s response.


    The challenge had beenid out, and there was no turning back now.


    Luk''Tar''s eyes gleamed with barely concealed malice as he raised his hand and shouted, "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!!"


    The words echoed in the stillness, and the meaning was clear.


    This was a challenge of honor¡ªa fight to settle the dispute once and for all.


    Volk met Luk''Tar''s gaze, his heart pounding in his chest.


    He knew this was more than just a fight. It was a test of his convictions, a battle for the truth.


    If he lost, the traitors would remain hidden, and Lhum''Baggar''s fate would stay shrouded in darkness. But if he won¡­ perhaps he could finally expose the lies that had been woven around the n for so long.


    The crowd shifted, forming a circle around the two Orcs. The murmurs of doubt and uncertainty fell silent as they waited for the inevitable sh.


    Volk flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of the challenge settle on his shoulders.


    He could sense the strength radiating from Luk''Tar, the darkness clinging to him like a second skin. But there was no turning back now.


    He would face this head-on, no matter the cost.


    Luk''Tar smirked, his confidence evident. "Let''s see if you''re truly as strong as you think you are, Volk. This time, I won''t be surprised¡­"


    Volk''s eyes narrowed, his fists tightening.


    The fight was about to begin.

 Chapter 74: High Level Boxing

    Luk''Tar''s voice echoed over the gathered crowd as he shouted again, "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!"


    His voice was full of raw energy, hate and desire for destruction as if meant to stir the Orcs and Elves alike, announcing the impending duel with fervor.


    The crowd was silent for a moment, making the tension in the air almost unbearable for everyone around.


    Then, as if to drive the point home, Luk''Tar shouted the challenge again, "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!"


    Volk stood his ground, his eyes locking with Solluha''r''s. Her face was calm, but in her eyes, he saw concern.


    He gave her a small nod, and she returned it, with her lips forming a tight line.


    She believed in him.


    "Fine! Let''s do this!"


    Volk''s voice rang out, steady and strong, signaling his eptance of the challenge that Luk''Tar was offering.


    Lak''Ran stepped forward, patting his son''s shoulder. "Are you sure about this, Luk''Tar?" he asked, his tone almost paternal, though there was an undercurrent of something darker in his words.


    Luk''Tar smiled confidently, his eyes glinting with anticipation.


    "I''m sure, Father. Volk is strong with weapons and in his Grum-gar form, I''ll give him that. But in hand-to-handbat? He''s weak. I''ve faced him before, and there''s no way he''s improved so much in such a short amount of time. This is going to be easy."


    After that, another glint appeared in his eyes, "Plus, we have that, I won''t lose even if it was a fight to death!"


    Volk, however, was pacing back and forth, his thoughts focused.


    Swish! Swish! Swish!


    He was punching the air, making a sound simr to that of a whip.


    He had no doubts now. His body felt different, lighter, more flexible and confident.


    The system''s gift¡ªhigh-level boxing¡ªhad already begun coursing through his muscles.


    He could feel it in the way his fists clenched, the way his body moved with newfound precision.


    Luk''Tar, noticing Volk''s movements, called out, "No weapons! We''ll fight barehanded. We need to save our weapons in case the Warlocks catch up to us. And no Grum-gar forms either! If you shift into your form, you lose!"


    Volk nodded in agreement, and without a word, he dropped the Axe of Dissection in front of Solluha''r.


    His armor followed, ttering to the ground as Solluha''r stepped forward, picking up the axe and the other bone armors she could carry.


    Luk''Tar''s expression twisted into a snarl when he saw that. He was furious, the sight of Solluha''r holding Volk''s weapon stoking something in him, but he quickly masked his anger with a mocking smile.


    "LET''S GO, VOLK! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!"


    The crowd shifted, eyes glued to the twobatants, murmuring amongst themselves as the tension built.


    Lak''Ran watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, confident in his son''s victory.


    The fight began with Luk''Tar charging forward, his fists swinging with brutal force.


    Volk narrowly dodged the first punch, slipping to the side as Luk''Tar''s fist passed by him.


    The air whistled with the power behind Luk''Tar''s strike.


    Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!


    He was fast, stronger than most Orcs, but Volk felt something else.


    He felt¡­ calm.


    BANG!


    Volk''s fist connected with Luk''Tar''s ribs before he could recover from his missed punch.


    CRACCK!


    The impact was swift, solid, and precise. Luk''Tar gasped, stumbling back, surprised by the force.


    Luk''Tar gritted his teeth and charged again, this time more aggressively.


    He threw a barrage of punches, each one aimed at Volk''s face and chest, his movements quick and sharp.


    BANG! BANG! BANG!


    Volk dodged them all, slipping to the side, ducking low, his body moving fluidly as though he''d been fighting like this for years.


    Then, without warning, Volk''s right hand shot out in a lightning-fast jab.


    BANG!


    The punch mmed into Luk''Tar''s jaw, snapping his head to the side.


    The crowd gasped, murmurs rippling through the onlookers.


    "The Labor Orc was this strong?"


    "He was fast and can evade easily too?"


    Luk''Tar staggered, disoriented, wiping blood from his lip as he red at Volk, with intense fury burning in his eyes.


    Luk''Tar couldn''t believe it.


    What''s going on?


    Volk wasn''t like this before.


    He''s faster¡ªstronger!


    He snarled, trying to push the thought aside.


    No matter.


    I''ll crush him still!


    Luk''Tar rushed again, but this time he tried to grapple Volk, aiming to use hisrger size to overpower him.


    Swish!


    Volk shifted, using the momentum of Luk''Tar''s charge to throw him off bnce.


    THUD!


    Luk''Tar hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. Volk loomed over him, and before Luk''Tar could react, Volk delivered a powerful punch to his stomach.


    BANG!


    Luk''Tar doubled over in pain, wheezing as the wind knocked out of him.


    Keeeesh!


    How is he this strong?


    They were in the same strength now, in Fifth Stage Mag''Durotan!


    Luk''Tar believed that he should have the upper hand!


    However, he was being beaten ck and blue and no matter what he does, he cannot even touch Volk!


    He was never like this in the past!


    This can''t be Volk. Not the Volk I knew. He tried to push himself up, but Volk didn''t give him the chance.


    BANG!


    A right hook crashed into Luk''Tar''s cheek, sending him sprawling across the dirt.


    The crowd was silent now, stunned by the spectacle.


    They had expected a quick victory for Luk''Tar, but Volk was dominating the fight.


    Luk''Tar''s confidence began to waver. He couldn''t keep up. Every punch he threw was either dodged or blocked, and Volk''s counters were devastating, precise. He was getting beaten ck and blue, and there was nothing he could do about it.


    Volk moved without a grace but he look fluid that was almost unnatural, every strike seemed deliberate, and every movement seemed calcted.


    Like he is not wasting his energy on unnecessary motions, and his fists¡­ his fists felt like iron.


    BANG! BANG!


    Join us at m_v le mpyr


    Two more punchesnded squarely on Luk''Tar''s face, snapping his head back, and even making his nose spray a fountain of blood.


    The pain was overwhelming now, blinding him with every blow.


    How¡­ How did he get this strong?


    This fast? Luk''Tar''s mind began to whirl as he was punched left and right. His body was now screaming in agony, but he couldn''t stop.


    He wouldn''t allow himself to lose in front of everyone¡ªespecially not to Volk, a Labor Orc.


    But every time he tried to gather his strength, Volk was there, delivering another punishing blow.


    BANG!


    Luk''Tar''s body jerked with the impact of Volk''s punch, and for a moment, he thought he might pass out. His vision blurred, but through the haze, he could see the crowd watching, stunned into silence.


    Volk delivered one final punch, a solid uppercut that lifted Luk''Tar off his feet before he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.


    The crowd was shocked.


    They had expected Luk''Tar to win easily, but now, Volk stood victorious, barely breaking a sweat, while Luk''Tary battered and broken on the ground.


    Volk wiped sweat from his brow, his breathing steady. The high-level boxing from the system had been more powerful than he ever imagined. He felt like he could take on an army with his bare hands.


    But something gnawed at the back of his mind.


    As Volk stood over Luk''Tar, victorious, he couldn''t help but feel that something was off. Luk''Tar had been beaten thoroughly, yet he hadn''t gone down. He was still conscious, still moving despite the severe beating.


    Why isn''t he going down?


    Volk''s eyes narrowed as he looked down at Luk''Tar''s bloodied form.


    Something wasn''t right, and he could feel it.


    There was something unnatural about how Luk''Tar kept standing up, even after receiving punches that should''ve left him unconscious.


    His head was wing of possibilities why as he tried to piece it together.


    What is going on?

 Chapter 75: Cheating LukTar

    The crowd gathered around the twobatants was growing restless.


    The Orcs and Elves had expected the fight to be over by now, but something strange was happening.


    Luk''Tar should have gone down after the savage beating Volk had dealt him, yet there he stood, bruised, bloodied, but still upright.


    What is wrong with him?


    Is he really that tough?


    It felt unnatural in a way it''s abnormal for someone to be that tough!


    Volk was the first to notice something off.


    Every time hended a solid punch on Luk''Tar, the dark magic particles that surrounded the young Orc would shift and swirl, like a protective barrier.


    They drifted toward the areas Volk struck, almost as if they were healing him, keeping him from copsing.


    As Volk''s fist mmed into Luk''Tar''s ribs again with a resounding BANG!, he saw it.


    The dark magic particles, faint at first, began to swirl around Luk''Tar''s torso, as though drawn to the impact.


    Volk''s brow furrowed. What the hell is this?


    ''This bastard, he was doing something dirty! How do I expose him?'' He asked himself. It was very clear to him, all that he needed to do was expose and show it!


    The Orcs and Elves murmured among themselves, their whispers growing louder.


    "How is Luk''Tar still standing?"


    "Did you see that? Volk''s hitting him with everything he''s got, but it''s like¡­ it''s like nothing''s happening!"


    "Something''s not right. This isn''t normal."


    Volk heard them, their voices full of doubt, but his focus remained on Luk''Tar.


    Another punch connected with Luk''Tar''s face, making his head snap back violently.


    BANG!


    Still, Luk''Tar stood, blood pouring from his nose, eyes dark and menacing.


    What the hell is keeping him up?


    Should I do it?


    Volk wondered, his fists still clenched, and his breathing now changed, bing more cautious than heavy.


    Suddenly, after taking another blow to his chest, Luk''Tar did something unexpected.


    He lunged forward and grabbed Volk in a tight embrace, with his bruised and battered body pressing against Volk''s.


    With his mouth inches from Volk''s ear, he whispered, "You will never beat me."


    Volk''s eyes widened at the words.


    The dark magic particles shifted more violently around Luk''Tar, and Volk could feel the sinister energy seeping from the young Orc. But Volk wasn''t about to let this cheap trick go unnoticed.


    He ducked swiftly under Luk''Tar''s grasp and slipped away, using the precise footwork he had received thanks to the system''s high-level boxing skill.


    His eyes narrowed as he distanced himself, and without hesitation, he shouted, "Luk''Tar, you''re cheating!"


    The crowd immediately erupted into a cacophony of murmurs and gasps, with their shock sounding palpable.


    "Cheating?"


    "What''s he talking about?"


    "I knew something was wrong!"


    "It''s clear! That dark magic around Luk''Tar! He''s using something!"


    Luk''Tar stood tall, hisughter a low, sinister sound that echoed across the clearing. "Heh!" he sneered, wiping the blood from his lips.


    "Your punches are mere tickles, Volk. And now you''re using me of cheating?" His voice dripped with contempt. "What kind of excuses are these now? Just because you can''t win? Pathetic."


    Luk''Tar stepped forward, taunting Volk with a slow, deliberate swagger.


    "Do you think that because you''re finally standing up like a real Orc that it makes you my equal? You''re nothing! You''ve always been nothing but a Labor Orc, a tool for the tribe! And now you dare use me of cheating?"


    The crowd shifted nervously, their eyes darting between the two Orcs.


    Some murmured in agreement with Luk''Tar, while others remained silent, clearly unsettled by the dark magic that swirled around him.


    Volk''s fists tightened, his jaw clenching in frustration.


    ''I needed to make a risk!''


    He couldn''t argue with Luk''Tar''s arrogance¡ªhis taunts had the desired effect on the crowd. But Volk knew the truth, and he was determined to reveal it.


    "You are cheating," Volk said, his voice low but filled with conviction.


    ''I''ll do that now, if it costs me losing, then so be it!''


    His eyes nced toward Solluha''r, who stood just beyond the fight''s perimeter, her eyes focused on him. He gave her the briefest of nods, and without hesitation, Solluha''r understood.


    In one swift motion, Solluha''r hurled the Axe of Dissection toward Volk.


    SWOOSH!


    The heavy weapon cut through the air with deadly precision.


    Volk''s hand shot up, grabbing the axe mid-flight, its familiar weight settling into his grip like an extension of his arm.


    Luk''Tar''s eyes went wide, with his arrogant smirk fading into panic as he saw the gleaming de of the axe.


    The crowd gasped collectively, their murmurs silencing for just a moment.


    "What the¡ª" Luk''Tar started to speak, but it was toote.


    In a single fluid motion, Volk swung the Axe of Dissection upward. The de gleamed under the faint light as it sliced through the air.


    SWISH!


    The axe connected with Luk''Tar''s face, carving a vicious line from his chin to his brow.


    Blood sprayed from the wound as Luk''Tar staggered back, his hands flying to his face in a futile attempt to stem the flow.


    The crowd gasped in horror, many Orcs and Elves instinctively stepping back.


    Luk''Tar''s body wobbled for a moment, his legs shaking as though they could no longer support his weight.


    Then, with a sickening THUD, he copsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.


    For a heartbeat, there was absolute silence.


    Volk stood over Luk''Tar, breathing heavily, his eyes zing with satisfaction. He wiped the blood from the de of the axe on his arm and spat at the ground near Luk''Tar''s body. "Cheating bastard," he muttered under his breath.


    Suddenly, Lak''Ran''s voice exploded from the crowd. "YOU DAMN LABOR OOOOORC!!" The bellow was filled with rage, and Volk could feel the anger radiating from the elder Orc.


    Lak''Ran pushed through the gathered onlookers, his eyes wide with fury as he rushed toward his son''s fallen body. His face contorted in a mix of shock and disbelief, his once calm demeanorpletely shattered.


    "You filthy Labor Orc!" Lak''Ran''s voice cracked as he knelt beside Luk''Tar, whose chest still heaved with shallow breaths. He was alive, but barely. Blood smeared across Lak''Ran''s hands as he tried to cradle his son''s head.


    "You think you''ve won?" Lak''Ran snarled, his gaze snapping up to meet Volk''s. "You think this makes you strong? This doesn''t change a damn thing! You''ll never be more than a worthless Labor Orc!"


    Volk, gripping the Axe of Dissection tightly, met Lak''Ran''s gaze with unflinching resolve.


    "I don''t need your approval. You and your son are the traitors here. And now, everyone sees the truth."


    The crowd murmured again, this time louder.


    The evidence was undeniable.


    Luk''Tar should have gone down long ago, but the dark magic that surrounded him had kept him on his feet.


    Volk had exposed the treachery for all to see.


    Lak''Ran''s face twisted in rage, his hands trembling with the effort to contain his fury. But as much as he wanted to retaliate, he knew that the eyes of the tribe were on him. He was out of moves, for now.


    But the storm brewing behind


    Lak''Ran''s eyes promised this wasn''t


    over.


    Not by a long shot!


    Suddenly, his eyes glinted in a desperate and malevolent light!

 Chapter 76: Sign of Dark Elven Witches

    The silence following Luk''Tar''s fall was abruptly shattered by Lak''Ran''s furious bellow.


    "Seize him! He used a weapon! He defied thew of Duel! We must not ept that he cheated! Seize that damn Labor Ooooorc!!"


    His voice echoed across the clearing, filled with righteous anger, and furious growl as.


    Instantly, all eyes turned toward Volk.


    The Orcs and Elves, stunned by the brutal fight, now seemed confused, their faces saying they were caught between Lak''Ran''smand and the truth of what had just unfolded.


    Volk stood tall, his chest heaving as he held the Axe of Dissection.


    "Ha!" "Ha!" "Ha!"


    He couldn''t help and exhale and inhale deep air as he felt it was too taxing to use the boxing moves.


    "I''m still not used to those moves!"


    He knew Lak''Ran would try to turn the tide against him. He could feel the tension in the air. But he wasn''t about to let that happen.


    He was prepared for ever since he decided to gamble!


    "Look at Luk''Tar''s body!"


    Volk shouted, pointing toward his fallen opponent.


    All heads swiveled toward Luk''Tar. His massive formy motionless on the ground, blood still dripping from the gash across his face.


    For a moment, it seemed like the fight was over, but then, the air around Luk''Tar seemed to shift.


    A low growl rumbled from his chest, growing louder and more menacing with each passing second.


    Slowly, painfully, Luk''Tar''s body began to change.


    His muscles bulged, and his skin stretched taut over his expanding frame. His bones cracked and shifted, growingrger and more monstrous by the moment.


    The transformation was agonizingly slow, as if whatever dark magic had been woven into him was forcing the Grum-gar form out of him.


    His body doubled in size, then tripled, until he towered above the crowd like a nightmarish giant. His skin, normally a dark green, became mottled and twisted with veins of ck magic.


    His eyes, once gleaming with rage, were now dull, filled with a savage hunger.


    And then, when his transformation wasplete, Luk''Tar released a deafening, guttural ROOOOOOOAAAARRRRR!


    The ground trembled under the force of his roar, and the crowd shrank back in terror.


    Even the bravest warriors among them felt their knees weaken as the monstrous Luk''Tar took a step forward, his massive feet cracking the earth beneath him.


    But there was something else.


    Something is wrong.


    Definitely wrong.


    "Look!" one of the Elves in the crowd screamed, pointing toward Luk''Tar''s body. "The tattoos! They''re¡­ they''re not normal!"


    The crowd gasped as they saw it too. In his Grum-gar form, Luk''Tar''s skin was not smooth like a regr Orc''s.


    Instead, it was marked with strange, dark tattoos, like the twisted roots of a tree, snaking across his body.


    They pulsed with dark energy, glowing faintly in the dim light of the dawn. And for sure, some of them would obviously recognize those marks and what it signifies.


    "Those markings!" someone else shouted. "Those are the marks of the Dark Elven Witches!"


    Immediately, panic spread like wildfire to the whole crowd.


    They were running from the Red Elven Warlocks and now, there are Dark Elves Witches too?


    This is a nightmare for real!


    A nightmare for real!


    The name alone sent shivers down the spine of every Orc and Elf present.


    Dark Elves, the ancient enemies who wielded forbidden magic, the one who was hunting their whole race.


    Using elves blood to make their lifespan longer and enving the Hornless Orc tribe easily like a dog.


    To see their mark on Luk''Tar was a terrifying omen.


    They were infiltrated.


    "No! No, it can''t be!"


    "He''s been tainted! Corrupted by dark magic!"


    "What does this mean? Is the whole tribepromised?"


    The panic grew louder and louder, and soon, chaos erupted.


    Orcs and Elves alike began shouting, pointing fingers, scrambling to understand what was happening.


    Some used Lak''Ran of treachery, others feared that more of their kin were corrupted.


    The fear was palpable, and Volk could see it spreading like an infection.


    Volk knew he had to act fast. "Don''t let Lak''Ran escape!" he roared, hoping to regain control of the situation.


    But when the crowd turned to where Lak''Ran had stood just moments ago, he was nowhere to be found.


    "He''s gone!" someone shouted.


    "Where did he go?"


    Volk''s eyes darted across the gathering. Lak''Ran had slipped away like a shadow, vanishing amidst the chaos.


    The cunning old Orc had used the confusion to his advantage, disappearing before anyone had the chance to catch him.


    Volk cursed under his breath.


    ''That damn bastard, he got away!''


    Meanwhile, Lak''Ran was weaving his way through the panicked crowd, his heart pounding in his chest.


    He had nned for this, prepared for the moment when everything would fall apart.


    He had always known his son''s transformation would cause a stir, but he hadn''t anticipated how quickly Volk would figure things out.


    Damn lowly Orcs¡­


    Lak''Ran thought, gritting his teeth.


    ''You will all soon be ves to my master! Damn Orcs, you will see! You all will see!''


    But before he could savor his imagined victory, Lak''Ran''s body suddenly went rigid.


    A sharp pain shot through his spine, and his legs gave out beneath him. He copsed to the ground, gasping for air as darkness clouded his vision.


    "You won''t escape," a voice growled from the shadows.


    Lak''Ran''s eyes darted around wildly, but he couldn''t see his attacker. He could feel a presence, someone close, but the world was spinning too fast for him to make sense of anything.


    His fingers wed at the dirt as he tried to crawl away, but it was no use. His strength was gone..


    He couldn''t get away!


    On the other side of the clearing, Volk felt his own body weakening.


    The strain of the fight, the dark magic in the air, and the energy he had spent had taken its toll.


    His limbs felt heavy, and his vision swam. But just as he was about to copse, Solluha''r appeared at his side, catching him before he fell.


    "You did it, Volk," she whispered, her voice soothing amidst the chaos. "You exposed them."


    Volk leaned into her, exhaustion weighing him down. His mind was still spinning, trying to make sense of everything.


    "I¡­ I gambled," he muttered, more to himself than to Solluha''r. "Luk''Tar¡­ he gave the rules. No Grum-gar form. That''s how I found out. It was a gamble, but I had to try."


    Solluha''r looked at him, confusion in her eyes. "A gamble? What do you mean?"


    Volk shook his head. "I''m not sure. But¡­ It worked. For now."


    As Solluha''r helped him steady himself, Volk felt a strange sense of relief wash over him.


    The fight was over, but he knew this was only the beginning.


    There were still too many questions unanswered, too many loose ends.


    But just as he started to rx, his eyes widened in realization.


    The system.


    The words shed in his mind, a sudden, jarring reminder. He hadpleted the first mission¡ªhe had found the traitor¡ªbut there was more. He remembered the notification.


    | Mission:


    | Explode all of the traitors¡­ 3/54. |


    His stomach twisted as the weight of the task ahead settled on him.


    Fifty-four traitors. Lak''Ran had escaped, and there were still many others lurking in the shadows that he needed to expose.


    Volk''s exhaustion deepened as he considered the enormity of whaty ahead.


    This was far from over.


    He needed toplete the system mission first or the whole Dreadmaw n would be annihted!

 Chapter 77: Failed

    Volk''s blood in his head began to slither through his brain to think carefully with a desperate fury as he tried to think of ways to expose the traitors hiding within the Dreadmaw n.


    Every second counted, and shouldering the weight of the n''s survival was pressed down on Volk like a suffocating dust shroud.


    He took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of focus he had.


    The first n that crossed his mind was simple: iste and interrogate. He could round up anyone he suspected of betrayal and question them one by one.


    He could put them under intense pressure until they either broke or exposed themselves.


    The idea of using his newfound boxing skills to force answers out of them gave him a brief of force confidence.


    He imagined grabbing Luk''Tar by the cor and demanding the names of every traitor, breaking bone if necessary.


    But the reality of it all crushed the idea before it could take root.


    Volk shook his head, knowing it would be impossible to interrogate so many.


    Time wasn''t on their side.


    Even if there was no timing, he felt he had.


    He couldn''t afford to deal with one Orc at a time when the threat of annihtion loomed overhead.


    Moreover, brutal tactics might further divide the n.


    Fear and mistrust would fester like an open wound, and soon they would tear each other apart even faster than the enemy could.


    Volk''s second n involved magic. Surely there was some way to use it to expose the traitors.


    He thought about enlisting the few magic users in the n.


    Maybe they could cast some kind of spell to reveal the truth.


    He entertained the notion of forcing Lak''Ran to undergo a magical trial, where any Dark Elf enchantments would be unveiled in front of the entire n.


    But Volk knew deep down that magic wasn''t reliable in this situation.


    If the traitors had been working with the Dark Elves, they would likely know how to conceal themselves from such spells.


    Plus, the n''s magic users didn''t fully trust him.


    Ever since he exposed Luk''Tar, suspicion had only grown between him and the rest of the tribe''s elite. And him, being a young blood Kaz''rogal would likely get ignored.


    It wouldn''t work, Volk thought, dismissing the idea with a heavy sigh.


    The third n seemed more traditional: appeal to the tribal elders. .


    The Dreadmaw n had always respected its elders, who possessed the wisdom of ages.


    Maybe they would recognize something Volk hadn''t noticed, some subtle behavior or clue that would expose the traitors.


    But as the thought yed out in his mind, he quickly realized the futility of it.


    Most of the elders had already gone missing or were too paralyzed by fear to act decisively.


    Those who remainedcked the strength or authority to impose order on the tribe.


    They had be figureheads, unable to control the chaos that now threatened to tear everything apart.


    The elders can''t help me.


    They can''t even help themselves.


    With each idea failing one after another, Volk felt a creeping sense of doom gnawing at his insides.


    He clenched his fists, angry with himself for not having a clear solution.


    There must be something I can do.


    Anything.


    Then, it hit him like a bolt of lightning¡ªthe Labor Orcs.


    Aren''t Labor Orcs supposed to be the first to sense danger?


    Volk''s pulse quickened as he remembered their keen ability to detect hazardous magic particles.


    If the Dark Elves had infiltrated the n, they would have needed to take out the Labor Orcs first to prevent detection.


    His voice exploded with desperation, cutting through the air like a thunderp. "THE LABOR ORCS! DON''T LET THEM GO! DON''T LET THEM GO!"


    The sudden urgency in Volk''s voice shook the tribe to its core.


    For a moment, there as a heavy silence nketing the crowd.


    Then, as if a dam had burst, the Elves and Orcs sprang into action.


    They had been wary of each other, unsure of who to trust, but now they moved with purpose.


    Volk watched as the Labor Orcs began to rise.


    At first, there were only three.


    Then six.


    Then nine.


    His heart blood pumping quickened with hope as more of them stood.


    Twelve.


    Fifteen.


    Neen.


    But then... it stopped.


    His hope shattered like ss.


    Neen wasn''t enough.


    He needed at least thirty, maybe more, to expose the full scale of the conspiracy.


    Where are the rest?


    His heart sank into a pit of panic.


    Where are they hiding?


    They needed everyst Labor Orc if they were going to survive this threat.


    As Volk''s eyes darted around the camp in a frenzy, a dark, mockingugh rang through the air, cutting through his thoughts like a jagged de.


    He turned and saw Lak''Ran, bound but grinning like a madman.


    "Looking for someone, little Labor Orc?" Lak''Ran sneered, his eyes gleaming with wicked glee.


    Volk''s teeth clenched, fury boiling within him. "What are you talking about?"


    Lak''Ran chuckled darkly, his voice dripping with malice.


    "You''re toote. They''ve already fled, you fool. The moment you mentioned Lhum''Baggar, we knew our time was up. Some of us ran. And your precious Luk''Tar? His only job was to distract you long enough for them to escape.


    Hahaha!"


    Volk''s blood ran cold. "No... no!" he stammered. He turned back to the crowd, his heart thudding in his chest. "Search for them! Find the Labor Orcs!" His voice cracked with desperation as he screamed.


    But Lak''Ran''s cruel voice sliced through the chaos once again, mocking him.


    "Give it up, little Labor Orc. Plus who are you to order them? You''re just a young blood Kaz''rogal! You''ve lost. All you did was waste time fighting Luk''Tar while the real threat slipped through your fingers."


    Volk felt a chill creep up his spine, but he forced himself to ignore it. "I won''t give up!"


    Lak''Ran cackled even louder.


    "Why not join us, little Labor Orc? You''re strong. We could use someone like you. Pledge your loyalty to the Dark Elven Witches. Together, we could wipe out these Red Warlocks. Imagine the power you''d have!


    Hahahaha!"


    Theughter echoed in Volk''s ears, threatening to drown him in doubt.


    His chest heaved as he tried to push the despair aside.


    He couldn''t let the n fall.


    He couldn''t lose.


    Not like this.


    Not after everything.


    Suddenly, the Orcs pulled Lak''Ran away.


    Just then, a familiar chime echoed in his mind.


    A system notification appeared before his eyes, and the words cut into his soul like a de.


    | Mission Failed.


    | Star = Basic-level Muay Thai Kickboxing received.


    | Dreadmaw n will experience annihtion in 7 hours. |


    Volk''s breath hitched.


    Mission failed?


    He stared nkly at the notification, unable to process it.


    The words felt foreign, distant, as if they weren''t meant for him.


    I failed?


    He looked up at the gathered Orcs and Elves, he could see their faces were blurred by his confusion and exhaustion.


    Their expressions were a chaotic blend of panic and fear, but Volk couldn''t focus on any of them.


    Failed.


    The word felt like it was imprinted in his mind, over and over, until it drowned out everything else.


    Lak''Ran''sughter still rang in his ears, but Volk didn''t react.


    He couldn''t.


    He was numb.


    The Dreadmaw n was doomed, and he couldn''t help but feel it was all his fault.

 Chapter 78: Little hope left

    Volk stood frozen, and his head was trying to dig deep to his brain on what to do as the system notification red in front of his eyes:


    | Mission Failed.


    | Basic-level Muay Thai Kickboxing received.


    | Dreadmaw n will experience annihtion in 7 hours. |


    His heart thundered in his chest, and his breath came in ragged gasps.


    "No.


    "This cannot be it."


    Desperation wed at his insides, threatening to explode inside him.


    "I will not die like this.


    "I will not let my people die like this!"


    His teeth ground together, and his hands balled into fists so tight that his knuckles turned white.


    "NO!"


    Volk roared, shaking the very air around him.


    The sound was primal, wild, as if something deep within him had finally broken free.


    "I will not let this happen!" His voice cracked, but he didn''t care. He couldn''t care.


    The ground trembled beneath his feet as his voice echoed through the clearing.


    "I WILL NOT DIE LIKE THIS!"


    The Elves and Orcs around him flinched at his outburst, their eyes wide with confusion and fear. But Volk was beyond reason now.


    His desperation was boiling over, and all he could think about was finding a way¡ªany way¡ªto turn the tide of fate.


    "FIND THOSE SPIES!" Volk screamed, his voice growing more frantic with each word.


    "WE CAN STILL ESCAPE!" His eyes darted wildly across the crowd, as if he could somehow will them into action with sheer force of will.


    "IF WE CAN''T ESCAPE, WE CAN FIGHT BACK!"


    He felt his throat burn as he screamed, but he didn''t stop. He couldn''t stop. "STAND UP! BE STRONG!" His voice cracked again, but the madness in his eyes only intensified. "STAND UP AND BE STRONG!"


    Every word, every scream felt like a desperate plea to the gods. But it wasn''t the gods he needed to convince¡ªit was these terrified, hopeless warriors around him.


    His people, his n.


    The Elves and Orcs exchanged nervous nces, their bodies trembling with fear.


    The weight of Volk''s words was like an anchor pulling them deeper into despair.


    They all knew what he was saying was true. But even in the face of his desperate screams, their hearts sank lower and lower.


    How could they fight against the impossible?


    They had all heard the stories.


    The Red Elven Warlocks and Dark Elven Witches¡ªtwo opposing forces that used lesser races as pawns in their never-ending war.


    To them, the hornless Orc tribes and the Elves were nothing more than prizes, trophies to be imed in their deadly sport.


    Whoever seized them first would be the victor.


    It was a game of power and conquest, and the Orcs and Elves were nothing but the spoils.


    Volk''s screams grew louder, more frenzied, as he paced back and forth, clutching his head as if trying to physically shake the desperation out of his mind.


    "WE HAVE TO FIGHT!" he bellowed. "WE CAN''T JUST SIT HERE AND WAIT TO DIE! WE HAVE TO¡ª"


    But his voice was swallowed by the weight of their hopelessness.


    One by one, the warriors around him began to crumble.


    Their faces were pale, their hands shaking.


    Even those who had once stood tall and proud now seemed weak, helpless, their spirits broken by the knowledge that no matter how strong they were, no matter how hard they fought, they could never win.


    Volk saw the look in their eyes¡ªthe look of surrender.


    "No, no, no! This isn''t how it''s supposed to end!"


    His chest heaved with the effort of his screams, his throat raw and aching, but still he pushed on.


    "DON''T LET THEM GO!" His voice cracked again, his desperation bleeding into every word. "WE CAN DO THIS! WE CAN FIGHT BACK!"


    But even as the words left his lips, Volk could see the truth etched on their faces. They knew what wasing.


    They had heard the stories of the Red Elven Warlocks and the Dark Elven Witches shing in all-out war.


    They knew that the hornless Orc tribes were nothing more than coteral damage, a casualty of a war between rulers of different realms.


    Volk''s screams echoed across the clearing, but the Orcs and Elves stood motionless, frozen in fear. His heart pounded in his chest, every beat a reminder of the time slipping away.


    Suddenly, an Orc stepped forward and ced a hand on Volk''s shoulder.


    "Kaz''rogal," he said, his face etched with the deep lines of countless battles fought and lost, stared into Volk''s eyes with a mixture of pity and understanding.


    "Enough, little Kaz''rogal." Kaz''rogal''s voice was calm, steady. It cut through Volk''s rambling like a cold wind. "We understand."


    Volk shook his head, refusing to believe it. "No!" He jerked away from the elder''s grasp. "We can still fight! We can still¡ª"


    Kaz''rogal''s expression didn''t change, but there was something heavy in his gaze. "Kaz''rogal, listen to me. You know what happens when the Red Elven Warlocks and the Dark Elven Witches sh."


    Volk froze, his breathing in shallow gasps.


    Kaz''rogal continued, his voice barely a whisper now, but every word felt like a hammer blow to Volk''s soul.


    "Whenever those two armies sh, it''s all-out war. And we... we are nothing to them. We are but two percent of their pawns. We are insignificant in their eyes, Volk."


    His eyes clouded with sorrow as he spoke, the truth too heavy for him to bear.


    "They will kill each other, and they will kill us for sure. We are merely the consequences of their game of conquest. There is no escape."


    Volk''s lips trembled as he struggled to find words. How did ite to this? How had they fallen so far?


    "How did this happen?" Volk asked, his voice barely a whisper, his mind refusing to ept the grim reality.


    Kaz''rogal sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the knowledge he carried.


    "A dead Warlock is the reason. It''s not your fault, little Labor Orc." The elder''s voice was thick with sorrow. "If that Warlock had survived, he would have called for backup, too. But now... now, both sides areing. And we are caught in the middle."


    Volk''s breath caught in his throat. A dead Warlock?


    The weight of the elder''s words crashed down on him, leaving him feeling utterly powerless.


    For a moment, Volk could hardly breathe. Had it reallye to this?


    Just as the full weight of the situation began to crush him, another system notification appeared in his vision.


    The cold, emotionless text blinked before his eyes:


    | Ding!


    | Mission: Suggest an escape ce.


    | Rewards: Survival of the few.


    | Failure: Complete Annihtion. |


    Volk''s eyes widened as he stared at the screen, his heart pounding so loudly he could barely hear his own thoughts. His entire body felt numb, his mind nk.


    An escape n? His mind reeled as the words echoed in his head. He had no n. No strategy. And now, he had mere hours before everything he had ever known was destroyed.


    As the notification faded from view, Volk''s legs gave out, and he copsed to his knees. His hands shook as he stared into the distance, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.


    Is there a way out of this? Can I really save them?


    Volk''s chest tightened as the full weight of the mission sank in.


    Seven hours.


    That was all he had left.

 Chapter 79: Other Orc Clans

    Volk stood still, his eyes shut tightly, forcing his mind to focus.


    His breaths were ragged, and his body was trembling with the pressure of them all.


    He knew how his system worked¡ªhow it thrived on the reality of the situation, the choices made under extreme duress.


    If there was an escape, it would help him find it.


    "But where?


    "Where could we go?"


    His thoughts raced wildly, colliding in a chaotic jumble.


    His mind shed through images of forests, valleys, mountains¡ªbut nothing seemed right.


    "The forest?"


    He considered it for a moment.


    The forest could provide cover, ces to hide... But as soon as the thought formed, he dismissed it.


    No, they''re already in the forest.


    It wasn''t enough.


    The trees would only dy the inevitable.


    His brow furrowed as frustration gnawed at him. He had to think faster.


    "A ce...


    "A ce where we can survive¡­" But no matter how hard he pushed, he couldn''t find it. His breathing quickened, panic wing at his chest.


    Think, Volk! Think!


    Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp chime in his mind:


    | Ding!


    | The host has ten seconds to suggest a location. |


    Volk''s eyes shot open in terror.


    "Ten seconds? "


    The blood that pumps his heart immediately quickened, his muscles tightening as if they were ready to explode from the pressure.


    His eyes darted around wildly, searching for anything, any hint of salvation.


    "Think, think, THINK!"


    And then it hit him¡ªZenveil.


    His mind shed back to that fateful battle.


    The cold, damp air of the catbs.


    The twisted shadows that had danced along the stone walls as he faced the three-headed beast.


    The catbs beneath the battlefield.


    They were treacherous, yes, but they were also vast, abyrinth of tunnels that had swallowed even Zenveil, a Warlock of immense power. If I could kill Zenveil there, then maybe¡ª


    Volk''s eyes snapped toward the elder Orc who had stopped him earlier.


    Before the elder could turn away, Volk surged forward and shouted, "Wait!"


    The Orc paused mid-step, turning slowly to face Volk. His expression was skeptical, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.


    The others, too, looked toward Volk, the faintest glimmer of hope in their weary eyes.


    "We could escape to the catbs!" Volk''s voice was strong, his eyes wide with urgency. "The catbs where I killed Zenveil!"


    For a moment, there was a stunned silence.


    The crowd of Orcs and Elves exchanged nces, their faces etched with disbelief. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the elder Orc threw his head back andughed¡ªloud, hearty, and cruel.


    "Grahahhahahaha!


    "The catbs?!" the elder roared, hisughter ringing out across the clearing. Hisrge frame shook with each bellow.


    "You''re serious, young one? The most dangerous ce in thisnd? The catbs are a death trap! If we go there, we''ll be attacked from all sides!


    "After all, our powers would be supresswd there. The horrors that lurk in those depths would eat us alive before the Elven Warlocks or Witches eveny a finger on us!"


    The other Orcs and Elves began to murmur amongst themselves, and many nodded in agreement.


    The catbs were a ce of death too, a nightmare whispered among them.


    It was said that the dead roamed those tunnels, that dark spirits and worse called it their home.


    To enter the catbs was to face certain doom. And yet, despite the elder''s mockingughter, Volk stood firm.


    The elder shook his head and stepped closer to Volk, cing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "You''re desperate, young one. I understand. We all are. But there''s no escaping this fate. The Red Elven Warlocks and Dark Elven Witches are closing in.


    It''s toote."


    "It''s not toote!" Volk snapped, shaking the elder''s hand off his shoulder. His eyes were wild, his voice desperate. "If we can make it to the catbs, we can survive! The tunnels go on for miles. They''re deep¡ªtoo deep for the Elves to follow us easily. We can hide there, regroup.


    It''s our best chance!"


    The elder sighed, a mix of pity and frustration in his gaze. "Even if we go there, Volk, we''ll be attacked by the creatures that dwell within. You may have killed Zenveil, but you know as well as I do that the catbs are far more dangerous than that one battle."


    Volk''s lips trembled, his mind racing for an argument, but before he could speak, the elder added, "Unless..."


    The elder paused, his words hanging in the air like a fragile thread.


    "Unless what?" Volk demanded, his heart pounding in his chest.


    But before the elder could finish his thought, a familiar voice cut through the air like a de. "Volkpleted the catbs."


    The voice was sharp,manding, and instantly recognizable.


    Volk''s heart skipped a beat as he turned to see her¡ªSolluha''r, her fierce eyes locking onto his. Her presence was like a storm, her aura radiating confidence and strength.


    "Volk gave me the magic crystal." Solluha''r continued, stepping forward with a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips.


    The elder''s eyes widened in surprise, his disbelief palpable.


    The crowd stirred, murmurs spreading like wildfire.


    A ripple of hope began to form as they processed Solluha''r''s words.


    If Volk had truly conquered the catbs, maybe there was a way.


    Maybe, just maybe.


    ¡ª


    Away from the Dreadmaw n, far from the chaos and desperation that gripped Volk and his people, a very different scene unfolded.


    The entrance to the catbs loomed before a group of fearsome warriors, its dark, gaping maw seemingly ready to swallow them whole.


    Standing proudly at the forefront were the Bloodfang n, their attire fierce and primal. Blood-red armor adorned their bodies, fashioned from the hides of beasts they had in in battle.


    Their faces were painted with war symbols, and they carriedrge, serrated des and axes, weapons known for tearing flesh from bone with ease.


    They were brutal, ruthless warriors, known for their savage tactics in battle.


    Next to them stood the Ironhide n, a stark contrast to the Bloodfangs.


    Their skin was as tough as stone, their armor thick and unyielding, made of iron tes fused to their very flesh.


    Their weapons wererge hammers and maces, designed to crush their enemies into dust with a single blow.


    Wounds barely fazed them; their bodies were as unbreakable as the iron they were named after.


    Further back, the Thunderstrike n moved restlessly, their attire sleek and lightning-quick, matching their reputation for speed and agility.


    They wielded long, thin des that crackled with electric energy, and they could strike down an opponent before they even knew what hit them.


    The Stonefist n stood like giants among the group, their muscles bulging beneath their armor.


    Massive brutes, each with fists capable of shattering stone, they wielded enormous clubs and warhammers, capable of breaking bones with a single strike.


    Their attire was simple but reinforced with tes of metal that protected their vital areas.


    From the shadows, the Shadoww n watched in silence, their ck and grey attire blending seamlessly into the darkness.


    They were assassins, masters of stealth and subterfuge. Each carried thin, curved des and throwing daggers, tools of silent death that struck without warning.


    Their eyes gleamed from beneath their hoods, always watching, always calcting.


    The Fireblood n exuded raw, burning energy. Their fiery tempers matched their affinity for me magic, and their armor shimmered with heat.


    They wielded short swords and fire-enhanced gauntlets, dangerous in close quarters where they could ignite their enemies with a touch.


    And finally, the Frostbite n, cold and calcting. Their armor was pale blue and white, reflecting their icy demeanor.


    They wielded frost-forged des that could freeze flesh on contact, and their bodies radiated an aura of chilling calm, even in the heat of battle.


    The leader of the Ironhide n grunted as he inspected the entrance to the catbs, his voice a deep rumble. "Are they done?"


    The leader of the Bloodfang n stepped forward, his lips curling into a satisfied grin. His eyes glowed with a dark, dangerous light.


    "It''s done," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

 Chapter 80: Dreadmaw Clan, incoming

    The gathering at the entrance to the catbs buzzed with the grim energy of impending battle.


    The Orc ns stood together in a loose formation, their tension barely hidden under forced bravado.


    They all knew what wasing, what fate awaited those who failed to hide or fight back against the relentless onught of Red Elven Warlocks and Dark Elven Witches.


    Yet, despite the looming danger, there was an undeniable camaraderie between the Orc tribes¡ªa mutual respect, though oftenced with mockery.


    Suddenly, a voice rang out from the distance.


    "Wait!"


    The sound echoed across the gathering, halting all movement.


    The various Orc ns turned their heads as one, their eyes falling on the approach of the Dreadmaw n.


    Their numbers were fewer than the other tribes, and their heavy footsteps were slow, burdened with the weight of defeat and exhaustion.


    The once-proud hunters now looked disheveled, their armor dented, and their eyes filled with a sense of despair.


    They must have traveled fast and a lot.


    A murmur spread through the crowd. Then,ughter broke the tense silence.


    The leader of the Bloodfang n, a hulking Orc draped in red and ck armor, barked out augh so loud it made the ground tremble beneath him.


    His yellowed tusks gleamed in the faint light as he pped his thigh in mock amusement.


    "Look at this, boys!" he called to his nsmen. "Who would''ve thought the Dreadmaw n would make it this far? I thought they could only hunt fishes and wild animals. Seems like desperation sharpens even the dullest minds!"


    Another round ofughter erupted from the surrounding Orcs.


    The Ironhide n, known for their stoic demeanor, allowed themselves a rare chuckle, and even the normally silent Shadoww n let out a low snicker.


    The Thunderstrike Orcs, always quick with their wit, were the first to pile on.


    "Maybe they''ve finally started using their heads for more than just smashing rocks!" one of them quipped, prompting another wave of jeers.


    Volk''s face twitched, his fists tightening at his sides, but he held his tongue.


    ''Wait until the threat of Warlock and Dark elves is gone, I''ll smack you all at once!'' he mumbled.


    The Bloodfang Chieftain wasn''t done yet, though. Hisughter died down, but a wicked grin remained on his face as he cast his eyes toward a particr figure in his ranks.


    "Hey, Grounad!" he shouted, his voice dripping with mockery.


    "Come over here, warrior! You''re our mightiest, a Kaz''rogal this year, aren''t you? Tell me, do you really think these weaklings defeated a Warlock? You don''t have to lie to us, you know. If you''re scared to be med, just tell the truth."


    Grounad stepped forward, his massive form towering even over the other Bloodfangs. His every movement seemed to exude raw strength, but there was noughter in his eyes.


    Instead, there was a deep frown of confusion as he regarded the Dreadmaw n.


    His gaze settled on Volk, studying him intently.


    "Volk..." Grounad mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, but enough to break the atmosphere ofughter.


    Soon, theughter around him did began to fade, reced by murmurs of curiosity.


    Grounad''s reaction wasn''t what the others had expected. His usual bravado seemed dimmed, his confidence shaken by the sight of Volk and his n.


    The Dreadmaw n continued their approach, their faces downcast, clearly worn from the run.


    The other Orc ns, though still mocking them, began to notice their condition.


    The Ironhide n stepped forward, their leader, with his iron-like skin, addressing them with a smirk.


    "Why so down, Dreadmaw?" he asked. "We''re all in the same boat. You''ll hide in the catbs like the rest of us. As long as we suppress our mana and mend our forces, the Elves won''t find us. Once their war is over, we''lle out, and you''ll still have your miserable lives!"


    The Orcs from the Thunderstrike nughed heartily, with their voices cutting through the air like des.


    They pped each other on the back as though they didn''t have a care in the world.


    The other ns joined in, theirughter filling the air with a false sense of ease, as if they were invincible, unaffected by the horrors waiting for them beyond the catbs.


    "It''s like a game to them," one of the Fireblood n Orcs muttered under his breath, his fiery eyes scanning the group of warriors. "Theyugh as though the Warlocks and Witches aren''t hunting us like animals."


    Volk gritted his teeth.


    They had no idea what they were up against.


    The catbs weren''t a sanctuary¡ªthey were a death trap. And the creatures lurking in its dark, cold corridors wouldn''t hesitate to tear apart anyone foolish enough to think they were safe.


    It was exined to him during the journey that once a catb was conquered, several new creatures would emerge from it.


    They could stay inside, but they would only need a few days to hide there.


    They coulde out once the war was over because if they didn''t, they would be swept in an unknown direction.


    The only problem was the monsters inside the catbs.


    The numbers are likely to be doubled. And they needed to defend themselves against them while inside hiding.


    Before Volk could delve deep to his own thoughts, a powerful, authoritative voice broke through theughter,manding immediate silence.


    "Bloodfang n, prepare to go inside the catbs first!"


    It was the voice of the Bloodfang Chieftain, who had grown tired of the mockery.


    The other ns instantly straightened up, the jovial mood vanishing as the seriousness of the situation set in once more.


    The entrance to the catbs loomed ahead like a gaping maw, dark and foreboding. It seemed to call out to them, promising safety while hiding its true dangers.


    The Bloodfang warriors moved to the front, preparing to enter first as ordered.


    But just as they were about to take their first steps into the shadowed abyss, another voice rang out, strong and filled with authority.


    "Wait."


    The voice belonged to the Chieftain of the Dreadmaw n, arge, powerful Orc whose presence demanded respect. .


    His muscles bulged beneath his armor, and his tusks gleamed with the fire of battle in his eyes. His stance was one of confidence, unshaken by the mockery or the impending danger.


    The other Orc ns turned to face him, their curiosity piqued.


    The Bloodfang Chieftain raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sneer. "What now, Dreadmaw? Changed your mind? Afraid of the dark?"


    The Dreadmaw Chieftain took a slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes locked on the Bloodfangs. His voice, though calm, carried a weight that silenced any lingeringughter.


    "You think the catbs will save you," he said, his tone almost mocking. "You think hiding in there will keep you safe from the Dark Elves, from their war? You''re wrong. The catbs are not the salvation you believe they are. They''re a graveyard. And if you enter without knowing the dangers, you''ll nevere out again."


    A heavy silence settled over the gathering.


    The other ns, once filled with bravado, now looked at each other with uncertainty.


    Theughter immediately disappeared, reced by the cold reality of the hairs on their shoulders.


    The Dreadmaw Chieftain''s words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over their hopes of survival.


    The Bloodfang Chieftain narrowed his eyes, his sneer fading into a grim line. "Then what do you suggest, Dreadmaw? If not the catbs, where? The Warlocks and Witches are closing in. We have no other options."


    The Dreadmaw Chieftain met his gaze, unflinching. "There are other ways to survive. But running blindly into the dark is not one of them. You''d do well to remember that."


    Volk felt a surge of pride and relief as his Chieftain spoke, standing tall against the mockery of the other ns.


    Perhaps there was still hope after all.


    As long as they had their wits and their strength, they could find a way to survive¡ªeven if it meant facing the horrors of the catbs.


    The Bloodfang Chieftain hesitated for a moment, his pride warring with the reality of their situation. Then, with a reluctant nod, he turned to his warriors.


    "We''ll see about that, Dreadmaw. We''ll see."


    And with that, the Bloodfangs began to march into the catbs, their footsteps echoing into the darkness.

 Chapter 81: Duel again?

    As the Bloodfang n moved toward the entrance of the catbs, Grounad, the mightiest warrior of the Bloodfangs in their younger generation, paused.


    His massive frame loomed over the crowd, and his eyes narrowed as he shifted his gaze toward the Dreadmaw n.


    There was something simmering in his mind, something that was eating his head ever since the first mention of the catbs.


    He finally spoke, with his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a de.


    "Hold on!" Grounad''s deep voice echoed across the gathered Orcs, halting their movements. "The Dreadmaw n¡ªthey''re not as weak as you think. Let us have a discussion first."


    This sudden promation sent a ripple through the other Orc ns.


    The murmurs started immediately, the confusion spreading like wildfire.


    The Thunderstrike n, known for their speed and agility, were the first to exchange looks of surprise.


    "The Dreadmaw?" one of them whispered, disbelief clear in his voice.


    "The hunter Orcs? They''re nothing but trackers and forest scouts. How could they possibly¡ªforget it! Just enter Bloodfangs! We still have a lot of preparation once inside!"


    The Fireblood n, always prone to heated tempers, interrupted the murmurings with their fiery skepticism.


    "Why do we need to care? And the hunter n? Completing a dungeon? Are you joking? The Dreadmaws are better at hiding than fighting!"


    The Ironhide n leader snorted, his thick armor creaking as he shifted his weight. "They''ve barely survived out here as it is. If they''re trying to im victory in a dungeon, they''re either lying or desperate. Which is it, young Bloodfang?"


    But Grounad, unwavering, stood tall. His eyes gleamed as he continued, "Yes. Theypleted the dungeon. Volk, their warrior, did it. The Dreadmaw n finished the dungeon, and we didn''t mean to keep quiet about it because of the looming threat of the Warlocks"


    The reaction was immediate.


    The murmurs exploded into full-blown discussions, each n now buzzing with disbelief.


    Orcs from every tribe began talking over one another, some in shock, others in outright denial.


    It was as if a secret had been spilled that no one could believe.


    The Stonefist n, known for their brute strength and straightforward attitudes, were visibly perplexed.


    One of their warriors, a massive brute named Kragnar, scratched his head and turned to his fellow nsmen.


    "The Dreadmaw? Completing a dungeon? That doesn''t make sense. They hunt beasts, not Warlocks. And Volk? I thought he was barely more than a hunter himself."


    The Shadoww n, silent and deadly as always, muttered in hushed tones from the shadows where they preferred to linger.


    One of their assassins, a wiry Orc with sharp eyes, whispered, "If theypleted it, why didn''t they boast about it sooner? No Orc would pass up the chance to im such a victory. It''s in our blood. What are they hiding?"


    The skepticism spread even further among the other Orcs, each n sharing their doubts and disbelief.


    "That Labor Orc, of all people?" one of the Thunderstrike n Orcs said. "He doesn''t look like a warrior, not even a dungeon crawler. There''s no way he could''ve faced down the dangers of a dungeon. Not without help."


    But Grounad, unbothered by their disbelief, continued, "You heard me right. The Dreadmaw npleted the dungeon, and they''ve earned the right to be here just as much as any of us. In fact, more than that¡ªthey should have first ess to the catbs. They earned it."


    Another wave of shock rippled through the Orcs.


    The Bloodfang n, the fiercest and most battle-hardened of the tribes, exchanged incredulous nces.


    Their Chieftain, still standing near the entrance of the catbs, frowned deeply.


    His pride, so carefully built over years of battle and victory, bristled at the thought of a lesser n taking precedence over them.


    "First ess?" the Bloodfang Chieftain scoffed. "You''re suggesting we let the Dreadmaw n go first? This isn''t some kind of charity! They''re hunters, trackers, nothing more. They don''t deserve to lead."


    Grounad''s gaze sharpened, and he squared his shoulders as he fixed his eyes on Volk. His voice was steady butced with challenge.


    "But they did lead. Volk led them. And they survived the dungeon. It''s no longer about who deserves what. It''s about what they''ve earned."


    Volk''s heart raced as all eyes turned toward him.


    The weight of the moment pressed down on him, and he could feel the tension thickening in the air.


    He knew what wasing¡ªhe could sense it in the way Grounad looked at him, in the way the other ns muttered amongst themselves.


    This wasn''t going to end with words.


    Grounad took a deep breath, his massive chest rising and falling before he shouted, "As saying goes, it seems they don''t like it. However, how about let''s prove them? By settling this the old way, Volk? Let''s have a battle."


    Grounad''s eyes gleamed with ferocity, his voice rising to a near roar as he bellowed, "KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!!"


    At the sound of those ancient words, the entire gathering of Orcs fell silent.


    Every n¡ªBloodfang, Ironhide, Thunderstrike, Fireblood, Stonefist, Shadoww, and even the Dreadmaw¡ªfroze, their collective breath held as the challenge echoed through the clearing.


    Kornuum Drhakar¡ªthe sacred duel.


    A battle of honor and strength, where only one warrior could emerge victorious.


    It was a call that could not be ignored, a challenge that, once issued, had to be answered.


    The Thunderstrike n exchanged nervous nces, their agility and speed useless in such a sacred, brute-force contest.


    The Ironhide n, though tough as stone, remained stoic, knowing full well the gravity of the challenge.


    The Fireblood n muttered amongst themselves, their fiery tempers ring at the idea of such a monumental event unfolding right in front of them.


    "Kornuum Drhakar?" one of the Stonefist n grumbled, his deep voice barely audible over the stunned silence. "This is serious now. This isn''t just about pride. This is a fight for dominance."


    The Shadoww n, ever the quiet observers, slunk further into the shadows, their whispers barely audible. "Grounad''s calling for blood. This isn''t just a scuffle. He means to prove who deserves to lead."


    Volk felt his muscles tense, his mind racing.


    The call to Kornuum Drhakar was no small thing¡ªit was a test of not just strength but will.


    A test of leadership.


    To refuse would be to dishonor himself and his entire n. But to ept... to ept was to invite a fight that could either solidify his n''s position or doom them all.


    He stepped forward, his heart pounding but his voice steady. "So, it seems not all Orcs are shameless like those around and the Bloodfang ns are not one of them," he said.


    The other ns were speechless.


    "And you really want to settle this now, huh?" Volk''s eyes locked onto Grounad''s, and he could feel the eyes of every n watching them.


    "Let''s go, then. KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!!"


    The Orcs around them shifted, eyes wide, whispers turning into shocked exmations.


    "A Kornuum Drhakar! Between the Dreadmaw and Bloodfang ns?"


    "This is madness! Unknown Labor Orc named Volk against Grounad? Can the Labor Orc even survive?"


    "The hunter against the warrior¡ªthis will be a bloodbath!"


    The tension was palpable, the air thick with the anticipation of violence.


    All eyes were fixed on Volk and Grounad, one could see their forms looming over the others as they squared off.


    Both of them felt as though the world had shrunk down to just the two of them.


    But just as they prepared to sh, muscles tensed, and fists clenched, a voice screamed through the air, louder than either of them.


    "STOOOOOOOOP!"


    The shout tore through the gathered Orcs like a thunderp, freezing both Volk and Grounad in their tracks.


    All eyes turned toward the source of the voice.


    Who was that?

 Chapter 82: Ground Bull

    The moment the voice echoed across the tense battlefield, all eyes turned toward the source, and to everyone''s surprise, it wasn''t a chieftain or a warrior stepping forward to halt the inevitable sh between Volk and Grounad.


    It was an elf¡ªa slender, fierce woman dressed in the sturdy armor of the Ironhide n.


    Her long, silver hair shimmered under the light, contrasting starkly with her dark eyes, filled with a storm of fury.


    "Are you all out of your damn minds?!" she shouted.


    Her hands trembled with anger, fists clenched tightly as she strode forward, pushing past Orcs who were easily three times her size.


    "Look at you! Brawling likemon animals when the Warlocks and Dark Elves are breathing down our necks! This is madness!"


    The Orcs collectively flinched at her words, though more in irritation than guilt.


    Murmurs spread through the crowd, and the initial shock of seeing an elfmand the attention of so many Orcs quickly turned to annoyance. But the elf was undeterred, her rage only building as she continued.


    "You''re so obsessed with your pride and your stupid honor! You brutes, you''ll kill each other before the real enemy even has a chance! While you''re all busy beating each other senseless, the Warlocks and Dark Elves will swoop in and finish you off like the brainless cattle you are!"


    She spat on the ground in disgust, her sharp gaze darting between the leaders of each n.


    Volk and Grounad stood motionless for a moment, blinking as if they couldn''t quite believe what they were hearing.


    The rest of the Orcs, however, were far less restrained.


    A low rumble of anger spread through the crowd, and several Orcs bared their teeth, their fists clenched at their sides.


    One of the Fireblood n Orcs, a burly warrior with a scar running down his cheek, growled under his breath, "Who does this elf think she is? Talking to us like that. We''re in the middle of a Kornuum Drhakar! It''s sacred!"


    The Stonefist n, ever known for their brutish strength and stubbornness, were even less kind.


    One of their warriors, a massive Orc with arms like tree trunks, grunted, "Shut your mouth, elf! This is Orc business! Kornuum Drhakar cannot be stopped by the likes of you! Go back to your trees!"


    The anger in the crowd grew, and several Orcs shouted their agreement, voices rising into a cacophony of jeers.


    "Go back to the forest, elf! This is sacred!" "Do not meddle in Orc traditions!" "Who gave you the right to speak here?!"


    The elf''s lips curled into a sneer, and her eyes were obviously zing with fury as the Orcs hurled their insults at her. But before she could retort, a deep, booming voice cut through the noise, silencing the crowd in an instant.


    "Enough!"


    It was the Chieftain of the Ironhide n, a towering figure with skin as tough and scarred as the iron for which his n was named.


    His voice was like the grind of stone on metal, and when he spoke, even the most defiant Orcs lowered their heads, their anger tempered by his sheer presence.


    The chieftain stepped forward, his gaze locking onto the elf.


    There was a moment of tension, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them before he spoke again, this time softer, though no lessmanding.


    "She is right."


    The Orcs exploded with outrage.


    "What?" one from the Bloodfang n spat, his voice filled with disbelief.


    "Right about what?! This is Kornuum Drhakar!"


    Others from the Thunderstrike n and Shadoww n joined in, their disbelief turning into curses and shouted objections.


    "She knows nothing of our ways!" cried a warrior from the Stonefist n. "What do you mean she''s right?!"


    "She''s not even one of us!" an Orc from the Fireblood n snarled, his hand inching toward the hilt of his de.


    The chieftain raised his hand, silencing them once more. His eyes, deep and unreadable, scanned the crowd before he continued.


    "She is my wife and she is right about one thing. The Warlocks and Dark Elves are hunting us as we speak. And a battle between two warriors of the fifth Mag''Durotan will be long, drawn out."


    His voice was low but firm, each word a stone dropped into the collective anger of the crowd.


    "The Warlocks will not wait for this sacred duel to end. And while we may hold our traditions dear, we cannot ignore the danger at our gates. A battle like this¡­ could cost us time we do not have."


    The Orcs grumbled in discontent, but the chieftain''s words carried weight, and they knew it.


    Still, the anger did not dissipate easily, and many continued to cast dark res toward the elf.


    The chieftain turned back to the crowd, his face stern.


    "But the elf is not entirely correct, either. Our traditions matter. Kornuum Drhakar cannot be stopped, and we will not let anyone disrespect what is sacred to us. But there is another way. A way that both honors our traditions and saves time."


    The Orcs waited, confused.


    The Ironhide Chieftain nced around before letting out a sharp whistle.


    Woyowiiiiiiit!


    Momentster, the ground trembled slightly as something massive approached.


    The crowd parted as a gigantic beast appeared¡ªa Ground Bull, its thick hide like stone and its eyes burning with primal strength.


    The massive beast snorted, shaking the earth with each step.


    "This is Tomorrowhawk, my Ground Bull."


    The chieftain spoke with pride, his voice booming as heid a hand on the beast''s thick, scarred hide.


    "It took me three years to tame this beast. Three years of breaking bones, of bruises, of near-death experiences. Tomorrowhawk was not easily broken. But now, he stands here, my most trustedpanion in battle.


    "His hide is tougher than iron, his strength unmatched by any creature in the wild. He has trampled entire battalions under his feet, leaving nothing but devastation in his wake."


    The Orcs watched in awe as Tomorrowhawk snorted, stomping the ground impatiently.


    "But his true strength is not in his size or his power. No. It''s in his instincts. Tomorrowhawk senses weakness like no other.


    "He can find the weakest member of any group and strike them down without mercy. That is how he has survived every battle, how he has won every fight. He always targets the weakest first."


    The Orcs stared at the beast with a mixture of admiration and trepidation.


    They knew the strength of Ground Bulls, but to see one this massive, this disciplined¡ªit was awe-inspiring.


    The chieftain smiled darkly.


    "So, how about we let Tomorrowhawk decide? Instead of dragging out a long, drawn-out battle between Volk and Grounad, we''ll let my Ground Bull choose the victor.


    "Whoever Tomorrowhawk attacks first¡ªhe is the weakest. He is the one who loses."


    The Orcs murmured among themselves, the proposal shocking and unexpected. But as they nced at Tomorrowhawk''s massive form, some began to nod in agreement.


    It was a fair alternative¡ªone that would save time and blood.


    Volk, his face still tense from the challenge, looked at the Ground Bull and then at Grounad.


    Suddenly, a new mission would ur.


    Ding!


    | Mission: Win the contest.


    | Reward: Unknown.


    | Failure: Complete annihtion of the Dreadmaw n elves! |


    He froze, a mission?


    Volk had a terrible feeling of wasting time, so after he failed thest mission and thought for a moment, he immediately stepped forward. His voice was steady, though his heart was thumping heavily.


    "Alright. Let''s do it. Let that beefcake decide."


    Grounad''s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting Volk to agree so quickly.


    For a moment, he hesitated, as if his pride were warring with the practicality of the situation. But eventually, he too nodded, albeit reluctantly.


    "Fine. Let''s see who Tomorrowhawk finds worthy."


    The chieftain of the Ironhide n grinned, clearly pleased with the oue.


    He turned to the crowd and raised his arms. "Since both warriors have agreed, then let it be so! Tomorrowhawk will decide!"


    After that, he tapped the butt of the bull and said, "Yip! Yip!"

 Chapter 83: Got it!

    At the back of the Dreadmaw n, a raucousughter erupted from a small group of Orcs, led by Grashk and Grok''Thar, Volk''s catbst timepanions.


    They stood tall, arms crossed, with wide grins stered across their scarred faces as they eyed the massive Ground Bull stomping its hooves in the dirt.


    "Look at that poor bull," Grashk chortled, his deep voice carrying over the murmurs of the gathered Orcs. "Doesn''t stand a chance against Volk! It''s like sending a rabbit to fight a mountain!"


    "Aye!" Grok''Thar boomed in agreement, pping his thick thigh with a resounding smack. "Volk''s the strongest there is! This is a waste of time. Grounad''s just dying the inevitable!"


    The other Orcs of the Dreadmaw n burst into heartyughter, their confidence in Volk unshakable.


    They knew something the other Orcs didn''t¡ªa secret advantage that had saved their lives countless times before.


    Beasts, whether inside the cursed catbs or roaming the wilds, instinctively avoided Volk.


    The beasts in the catbs fear him because they think of him as a more terrifying creature due to his ability to carry hazardous magic particles within his body.


    Yes!


    His dense, hazardous aura as a Labor Orc makes him something unnatural¡ªsomething that even the most ferocious creatures fear to touch.


    Whether they see him as dirty or stronger, the result is the same: both are scared of him.


    Grashk leaned forward, smirking, as he called out, "Hey Grounad! You better start praying to whatever gods you believe in! Volk''s gonna send that bull running with its tail between its legs, and you''re gonna be left in the dust!"


    "You''re wasting your time, Grounad!" Grok''Thar chimed in, his voice dripping with mockery.


    "Volk''s been in the catbs! He''s fought things in there that would tear that bull apart without breaking a sweat! He ain''t scared of some oversized cow!"


    The cheers and taunts echoed louder, carried by the wind to the other Orc ns.


    The warriors of the Bloodfang, Fireblood, and Thunderstrike ns turned their heads, watching the Dreadmaw Orcs with skeptical frowns.


    They couldn''t help but wonder where this surge of confidence came from.


    One of the warriors from the Thunderstrike n, known for their sharp tongues, muttered to hispanion, "Are they serious? That Labor Orc? I thought he was just lucky to survive. Now they''re saying he''s some kind of beast whisperer?"


    "Luck or not," hispanion growled, his eyes narrowing, "no one messes with the Ground Bull. Grounad has this in the bag. I don''t care how confident those Dreadmaw Orcs sound. That Labor Orc Volk doesn''t stand a chance against Grounad or that beast."


    Back among the Dreadmaw n, Grashk grinned widely, his voice dripping with arrogance.


    "They have no idea, Grok''Thar. They don''t know what we''ve seen. That Warthog back then? Stopped dead in its tracks because of Volk''s aura. These outsiders can mock all they want. We know the truth."


    "Aye," Grok''Thar nodded, crossing his thick arms over his chest.


    "Volk ain''t just strong. He''s got that strange¡­ air about him. Animals know he''s dangerous, but they don''t see him as a threat they can fight. That''s why they back off. Even this bull''s gonna know better than to mess with him. But let them keep doubting.


    They''ll see soon enough."


    The other Orcs of the Dreadmaw n joined in, shouting more taunts and encouragement to Volk, their boisterous voices carrying far and wide across the field.


    Amid the mor, the Chieftain of the Ironhide n raised his hand, calling for silence.


    His deep, rumbling voice cut through the noise,manding attention as he began to speak.


    "You may wonder why I called for this test," he began, pacing slowly before the gathered ns, his thick arms sped behind his back.


    "The Catb is no simple ce to lead Orcs into. It is a realm of death, where only the strongest beasts survive. When a catb is conquered, the creatures within do not simply vanish.


    "They remain, and new creatures will emerge, battling each other until one bes dominant¡ªuntil one species ims the title of apex predator. And what happens then? They are sent to another dimension.


    "So when we enter, we will face those threats. That''s why we need the strongest to lead us through it."


    He paused, letting his words sink in as the Orcs nodded in agreement.


    They had all heard stories of the Catbs, some even having ventured in themselves.


    They knew the dangers all too well.


    The chieftain continued, his voice low and steady. "The rules are simple: neither Volk nor Grounad must be attacked by the Ground Bull. They can do whatever they wish to avoid the bull''s wrath¡ªscare it, demen on it, or outwit it. But the one who is attacked first is the one who loses.


    "This test will decide who among them is truly the strongest and who is fit to lead us."


    The Ground Bull, snorting impatiently, pawed at the ground with its massive hooves.


    Its nostrils red as it lowered its head, horns gleaming in the light.


    The tension in the air thickened as the beast prepared to charge, its muscles coiling like a spring ready to release.


    At the back of the crowd, Grashk and Grok''Thar exchanged knowing smirks. "That bull doesn''t know what it''s up against," Grashk muttered under his breath. "Volk''s gonna make this look easy."


    But the other ns remained skeptical, eyeing the Ground Bull''s intimidating size and strength with apprehension.


    One of the warriors from the Fireblood n spoke up, his voice filled with doubt, "Are they really so confident in that Labor Orc? The bull looks like it could crush him without even trying."


    Another Orc from the Shadoww n added, "I don''t know what they''re thinking. This test is insane. But it was a fight, Grounad''s gonna tear Volk apart if the bull doesn''t get him first."


    Despite their doubts, the air buzzed with anticipation.


    All eyes turned back to the two Orcs standing in the arena.


    Volk and Grounad both stood ready, their muscles tense, eyes locked on the Ground Bull that now scraped its hooves against the dirt, preparing for its charge.


    The Chieftain of the Ironhide n stepped forward, his gaze shifting between the two warriors. His voice rang out, clear and authoritative. "Volk! Grounad! Are you both ready?"


    Both Orcs nodded, their jaws set in determination.


    The tension crackled between them like lightning before a storm.


    The chieftain raised his arm high, the signal ready to be given. "Then on my mark¡­" His voice dropped to a low growl as the Ground Bull snorted, its eyes fixed on the two Orcs.


    "Go!" he roared, swinging his arm down.


    The Ground Bull let out a thunderous bellow, and with a sudden burst of speed, it charged forward, the earth trembling beneath its massive hooves.


    The beast''s eyes were wild, searching, ready to choose its first target.


    At that moment, the crowd held its breath, waiting for the Ground Bull''s decision¡ªwaiting to see who would emerge victorious and who would face the beast''s wrath.


    Would it be Volk, with his strange aura that had saved them before? Or would it be Grounad, the fierce warrior who stood unflinching in the face of danger?


    The answery in the charge of the beast, and in the silence that followed its thunderous rumbling steps.

 Chapter 84: Bloodfang Clan Ability

    The air in the made up arena of crowded Orcs and Elves was thick with tension as the massive Ground Bull snorted, its breathing out in heavy puffs of steam.


    Its massive hooves dug into the dirt, ready to charge.


    Suddenly, Volk took a deep breath, his muscles tightening, and with a swift motion, he stomped his feet against the ground.


    BANG!


    The sound echoed like a thunderp, silencing the murmurs of the gathered Orcs.


    The Ground Bull, towering and ferocious beasts just moments before, suddenly froze in ce.


    Its eyes locked onto Volk, but something had changed.


    For the first time, the beast looked¡­ afraid?


    A collective gasp swept through the Orc ns.


    "What the hell?!" an Orc from the Thunderstrike n eximed, his voice filled with disbelief. "Did that bull just¡­ stop?"


    "Is it scared of him?" another one from the Bloodfang n muttered, his brow furrowed. "No way, how could a Labor Orc do that? He didn''t even use an ability!"


    The Chieftain of the Ironhide n narrowed his eyes, watching intently as the scene unfolded.


    Even he had not expected this.


    "This can''t be right," he muttered under his breath. His gaze shifted from the bull to Volk, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his usually stoic face. "How can a simple stomp from a Labor Orc cause the Ground Bull to hesitate?"


    The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, Orcs from all the ns looking at each other with wide eyes, trying to make sense of what they were witnessing.


    The Dreadmaw n, previously mocked and belittled, now stood with newfound confidence. Grashk grinned, his tusks gleaming in the dim light.


    "Told ya," he said, nudging Grok''Thar in the ribs. "That bull knows what''s good for it. Volk''s got something special about him. Always has."


    "He didn''t even break a sweat," Grok''Thar added, chuckling. "This is gonna be over before it even starts. Grounad''s got nothing on Volk!"


    From across the field, the other Orc ns watched with growing disbelief. An Orc from the Stonefist n crossed his arms, his voice filled with skepticism. "A Labor Orc? Really? That beast''s afraid of a Labor Orc?"


    "Impossible," a warrior from the Fireblood n muttered. "Volk didn''t even use magic or power. It was just¡­ a stomp."


    The Ironhide Chieftain, still taken aback by what had happened, tried to maintain hisposure. "The bull''s probably confused, that''s all," he reasoned quietly to himself. But deep inside, even he was starting to doubt.


    This was no ordinary Orc standing before them, and now the entire arena could feel it.


    The bull, however, wasn''t done.


    Despite its fear, it seemed to shake off its hesitation and turned its massive head toward Grounad.


    The beast''s nostrils red as if realizing it didn''t need to confront Volk after all.


    Its eyes locked onto Grounad, and with a furious snort, it began to shift its weight, ready to charge.


    "Wait, what''s happening?" one of the warriors from the Thunderstrike n asked, his voice barely containing his surprise. "The bull''s turning away from Volk¡­ Is Grounad really the weaker one?"


    "No way," an Orc from the Bloodfang n scoffed. "Grounad''s a Kaz''rogal! One of our mightiest warriors! There''s no way that bull''s choosing him over some Labor Orc. This doesn''t make any sense!"


    The murmurs grew louder, the shock spreading like wildfire through the crowd.


    "Did you see that?" one Orc whispered to hispanion. "The bull looked scared of Volk¡­ and now it''s going for Grounad? Does that mean¡­ Volk is stronger?"


    Another Orc, this time from the Shadoww n, muttered, "Grounad''s not weaker¡­ is he?"


    Grounad, for his part, felt all eyes were on him.


    His heart thrump fast as the bull turned in his direction.


    He had never imagined that Volk could be stronger than him¡ªVolk, the Labor Orc.


    This was supposed to be a simple challenge, an opportunity to prove his dominance over the Dreadmaw n once and for all. But now¡­ now it felt like everything was slipping out of his control.


    With no other choice, Grounad clenched his fists. His eyes burned with determination. "I won''t lose to a Labor Orc," he growled under his breath.


    And then, with a swift motion, Grounad activated his Bloodfang ability.


    The temperature around him shifted dramatically, the air growing cold and then sweltering hot in an instant. His skin seemed to glow with an inner heat as the blood within him surged, giving him a terrifying, otherworldly presence. His muscles bulged, and the very earth beneath him seemed to tremble with his raw power.


    The crowd fell silent for a moment, then erupted into murmurs once again.


    "The Bloodfang ability¡­" one Orc whispered. "He''s changing the temperature of his own blood. He''s manipting it to make himself more imposing."


    "That''s what makes the Bloodfang n so dangerous," another Orc muttered. "They can control their blood, make themselves more intimidating, more powerful. It''s like their very presence can crush you."


    "Look at Grounad now," an Elf from the Dreadmaw n observed, her voice dripping with disdain. "He thinks that pressure will scare Volk. But he doesn''t understand, does he? That bull isn''t going to stop just because he looks scarier now."


    Even Volk could feel the shift in the air.


    As much as he hated to admit it, Grounad''s new form was far more intimidating.


    The temperature changed, the pressure¡ªit was like standing next to a furnace that was ready to explode. But Volk wasn''t about to back down. Not now.


    Read today on m,v,l,e,mpyr


    The Ground Bull, however, seemed to reconsider.


    Its eyes flickered back to Volk, torn between fear and duty.


    It was clear the bull didn''t want to face Volk, but with Grounad standing there, pulsing with power, the beast had no choice.


    It snorted loudly and turned back toward Volk.


    The crowd erupted intoughter.


    "Look at that!" a warrior from the Frostbite n shouted. "The bull''s going back for Volk! It knows Grounad''s stronger!"


    "The Labor Orc''s in over his head," another Orc yelled. "He doesn''t belong here! This isn''t a task for someone like him. He should be out breaking rocks, not trying to lead warriors!"


    The taunts grew louder and louder, with Orcs from nearly every n mocking Volk. "He thought he could scare the bull with a little stomp, huh? Look at him now! He''s gonna get ttened!"


    "A Labor Orc trying to act like a leader," one of the Elves sneered. "This is why the Dreadmaw n is a joke. They''re nothingpared to the rest of us."


    Amid the cacophony of jeers and insults, the Chieftain of the Ironhide n stood silently, his arms crossed over his broad chest.


    A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.


    He had seen thising.


    Although he was surprised that his Tomorrowhawk Bull was scared of Volk at first, he knew this would end like this.


    He had arranged this entire challenge knowing exactly how it would y out.


    The Dreadmaw n was a nuisance, a group he had long since lost respect for.


    By letting them take this test, he was certain they would fail¡ªand in doing so, lose whatever little standing they had left.


    Volk nced over at the Ironhide Chieftain, his sharp eyes reading the subtle smirk on the man''s face.


    He wasn''t a fool¡ªhe knew this was all a setup, a ploy to embarrass him and his n. But Volk wasn''t about to give in. He was stronger than that. He''d survived worse.


    He locked eyes with the chieftain and asked, "The goal was to see who would get hit first, right?"


    The Ironhide Chieftain''s smirk deepened. "Yes, that''s right," he replied, his voice smooth and calcted.


    Volk''s gaze hardened. He turned back to the bull, his resolve firm.


    "So be it."

 Chapter 85: Charging Beef

    The entire crowd fell silent, watching Volk with intense curiosity.


    His every move seemed calcted, each step taken with purpose, yet there was still a question looming in everyone''s minds:


    What was he going to do now?


    What can he do now?


    Is he gonna make it?


    Or he canin?


    Volk''s expression remained calm, now his eyes were ncing a little between the massive Tomorrowhawk bull and Grounad.


    Then, almost as if a spark had ignited in his mind, he remembered something from the head of the body he upied¡ªa core trait of the Dreadmaw n, the very essence of their unique abilities.


    The Dreadmaw n''s innate gift was infamous, albeit in a strange and often underestimated way.


    While many Orc ns boasted powerfulbat techniques, unrivaled strength, or mystical abilities, the Dreadmaw n had developed something entirely different.


    Their ability, passed down through generations, was tied to their role as hunters.


    The Dreadmaw Orcs could taste food and instantly determine if it was safe.


    This wasn''t some trivial skill for a weak-stomached Orc¡ªit was a survival trait, a gift that allowed them to forage through dangerous, poison-riddennds and find nourishment where others would starve.


    Volk''s jaw clenched.


    ''That ability is useless now,'' he muttered. ''But knowing that I could use an ability means I have something like that in me. It''s not from the n; it''s from my beloved... system,'' he added confidently.


    Cracking his neck, Volk would hear his surrounding murmurs.


    "What? Is he going to taste the bull?" an Orc from the Fireblood n sneered,ughing heartily. "Does he think his fancy jaw is going to save him now?"


    "Right!" another Orc from the Thunderstrike n added. "What''s he gonna do? Take a bite and decide if the bull is safe to eat or not? HA!"


    The crowd burst intoughter, the mocking voicesing from all corners.


    Orcs jeered and pointed, unable to fathom how Volk''s n''s ability could be of any use in a situation like this.


    "Maybe he''ll offer the bull a snack," an Elf from the Bloodfang n scoffed, and she was crossing her arms as if she was looking down at Volk. "After all, they''re known for hunting, not fighting! This is just pathetic."


    Despite the insults being hurled his way, Volk''s expression didn''t change.


    He had long grown used to these taunts.


    The Dreadmaw n had always been seen as odd by the other Orc ns.


    Their abilities were essential for hunting and survival, but in the eyes of the battle-hardened Orc warriors, it was seen as a weakness.


    But they didn''t understand.


    Suddenly, Volk''s muscles tensed as his body started to emit a faint, eerie glow. His radioactive particles began to stir, his energy spiking.


    His n had always been to rely on his Radioactive form, an ability that had allowed him tomand respect from beasts, avoid attacks, and take down even the most formidable foes. But just as he was about to fully transform, the Ironhide Chieftain''s voice rang out, loud and sharp.


    "Turning into your Grum-gar form is forbidden!" the chieftain dered with authority. "If you do, you''ll be dered the loser!"


    Volk''s brow furrowed in frustration as he nced over at the Ironhide Chieftain.


    The man''s smug face was almost unbearable.


    He was clearly manipting the rules, setting Volk up for failure.


    The chieftain''s eyes held a mocking gleam, and Volk could feel the weight of this setup pressing down on him. Discover the saga at m-vl-em-pyr


    Grounad, standing tall beside the bull, grinned ever so slightly, as if amused by Volk''s predicament. "I won''t move a muscle," he said, loud enough for all to hear. "Do whatever you like, Volk. This bull''s going to run you down no matter what."


    A thought struck Volk at that moment.


    Move?


    His eyes narrowed as something clicked in his mind.


    Without hesitation, his lips curled into a smirk.


    ''You really want me to use that, huh?''


    He started walking forward, casually, without a hint of worry, positioning himself directly between Grounad and the Tomorrowhawk bull.


    The crowd went wild, their voices filling the air with disbelief.


    "What''s he doing?" an Orc from the Stonefist n shouted. "Is he¡­ walking in front of Grounad?"


    "Does he not realize what that bull is capable of?" a warrior from the Thunderstrike n muttered. "He''s just standing there, like a fool!"


    "He doesn''t know the Tomorrowhawk bull is about to tear him apart!" an Orc from the Fireblood n scoffed. "That thing can triple its speed! He doesn''t stand a chance!"


    More voices chimed in, the jeers and taunts growing louder as the Orcs from various ns began discussing Volk''s seemingly foolish move.


    "Does he really think he can stop the bull by just standing there?" another Orc scoffed. "He can''t even transform! Without the Grum-gar form, he''s going to be torn to pieces."


    "It''s suicide," an Elf muttered, shaking her head. "He doesn''t stand a chance against that beast''s charge. No ability, no transformation, just¡­ what? Standing there? Laughable."


    In the midst of the mockery, Grounad''s voice cut through the noise, low and dark. "Volk, if you manage to avoid the bull and I''m hit instead," he began, his tone almost mocking. "I''ll do more than admit defeat. I''ll recognize you as my Warchief¡­ and transfer myself to the Dreadmaw n."


    The entire crowd burst intoughter, the idea too absurd for anyone to take seriously.


    "Grounad, submitting to a Labor Orc?" one Orc cackled. "Now that''s rich!"


    "Him, a Bloodfang warrior, joining Dreadmaw? The weakest of all the ns? HA!"


    "It''ll never happen," an Elf scoffed, rolling her eyes. "He''s as good as dead if he thinks that bull won''t crush him."


    But Volk, his expression calm andposed, replied simply, "So be it. Although I have no use for weaklings like the members of Bloodfang n, it would be fun to see one of them submit and kneel down in my presence."


    The crowd was shocked when they heard that.


    "What did he say?!"


    The Orcs from the Bloodfang n would mutter.


    "Heh! So arrogant, a mere hunter n," the elves of the Bloodfang n would sneer.


    Volk knew listening to them would give him nothing, so he immediately turned his attention to the bull, with his presence immediately changed as if it was steady as a rock.


    The Tomorrowhawk bull, clearly hesitant, snorted in frustration.


    Its massive hooves stomped the ground, kabooff! creating small clouds of dust as it prepared itself for the charge.


    With much reluctance, the bull let out a final, frustrated bellow and began to move forward.


    Grounad watched, grinning as the bull gathered speed, fully confident that this would end in Volk''s demise.


    The crowd tensed, eyes wide with anticipation as the massive beast charged straight toward Volk.


    The bull''s movements were swift, almost a blur as it picked up momentum, its speed doubling in an instant.


    Swoosh!


    The ground shook beneath the weight of its charge, dust swirling around as it barreled toward Volk.


    The crowd could barely keep up with the bull''s speed, their collective breath held as they watched the beast close in on its target.


    And then¡­


    Swoosh!


    The bull tripled its speed, a blur of muscle, horns, and fury.


    The massive beast thundered forward, its path set, its horns gleaming as it charged straight at Volk.


    The crowd''s eyes widened, gasps filling the air as they watched in stunned silence.


    The bull was mere moments from hitting Volk, the force of its charge powerful enough to break bone and tear flesh.


    And yet, Volk remained perfectly still, his calm, steady figure casting a shadow in the path of the oing beast.


    Just as the bull was about to make contact, the entire arena fell silent.


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    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 86 : What just happened?

    The moment the bull made contact, time seemed to slow down for everyone watching.


    Kaboom!


    The bull didn''t simply collide with its target¡ªit lifted Grounad clean off his feet, as if he weighed nothing, and then, as if it was angry at Grounad''s very existence, he mmed him into the ground with a thunderous kabooming crashing sound!


    The impact sent tremors through the earth, creating dust and massive crack down the ground, making the crowd of Orcs and Elves recoil in shock.


    But the real shock came not from the sheer power of the bull''s attack, but from who was actually struck.


    Every eye widened in disbelief.


    "It... It hit Grounad?!" gasped an Orc from the Bloodfang n.


    "What in the world just happened?!" an Elf muttered, shaking her head in confusion.


    "I thought Volk was the one who was hit?" Another elf from other Orc n spoke.


    The massive Tomahawk bull, with its hooves still raised, snorted angrily, oblivious to the stunned reactions of the crowd.


    Grounad, who should have been standing victorious, was instead the one beneath the bull''s fury. His armor dented from the initial blow, he let out a blood-choked cough, spitting crimson onto the dirt.


    Cough!


    His body shook with the effort, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. But the bull wasn''t finished.


    Without a moment''s hesitation, it reared back once more.


    m!


    The bull brought Grounad down again with tremendous force, his body bouncing off the ground like a ragdoll.


    The crowd flinched, even the hardened Orcs grimacing at the sight of the brutal punishment.


    m! m! m!


    Three more times, the bull pounded Grounad into the earth, each impact more violent and more destructive than thest.


    The final m left him sprawled, his limbs twitching, his eyes rolled back in his head. His once-imposing figure now looked pathetic, broken.


    Blood pooled around his battered form, and with everybored breath, a spray of blood and saliva sttered onto the ground.


    The Orc and Elf crowd gasped as one.


    "How did this happen?" whispered an Elf with wide eyes. "Grounad''s supposed to be stronger than him!"


    "He''s unconscious!" another Orc eximed, his face pale with shock. "The bull... it''s going to kill him!"


    The Ironhide Chieftain had a look of realization sh across his face as he finally noticed what had happened.


    His eyes darted across the battlefield, searching for Volk, the supposed target of the bull''s wrath. But Volk... wasn''t where he was supposed to be.


    He was standing off to the side, casually, as if he were just another spectator.


    His arms crossed, his expression impassive. He stood there, as though the scene unfolding before him was no more than a passing interest.


    "STOP! STOP!!" the Ironhide Chieftain roared, his voice filled with panic as he waved his arms. He knew that if the bull continued, it would crush Grounad into nothingness. "HIYIP! HIYIP!!"


    The bull snorted in response, shaking its head, reluctant to obey but finally stepping away from Grounad, its massive horns lowering as if to apologize for the damage it had done.


    The crowd watched in stunned silence as the battered form of Grounady motionless on the ground, his body twitching slightly, his once-proud form reduced to a broken heap.


    For a moment, all eyes were on the Ironhide Chieftain, but then, slowly, the crowd''s attention shifted back to Volk. Whispers spread through the gathered Orcs and Elves, disbelief painting their faces.


    "What... just happened?" an Orc from the Stonefist n asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did... did he dodge that?"


    "But he didn''t move! He was right there!" an Elf eximed, shaking her head in disbelief. "The bull should''ve hit him! How did he just... disappear?"


    "Was it magic? Did someone feel any kind of magic?" another Orc questioned, his eyes darting around. "There was no magic! I didn''t see anything!"


    "What did he do?" someone else murmured, the question spreading through the crowd like wildfire.


    The whispers grew louder, as every Orc and Elf tried to piece together what had happened.


    They had seen Volk standing directly in the bull''s path, and then... nothing.


    In the blink of an eye, he had vanished, and Grounad had taken the blow meant for him.


    "I didn''t even see him move," one Elf muttered, looking around at hispanions in confusion.


    "Neither did I," an Orc agreed, scratching his head. "What the hell did he do?"


    The disbelief only deepened as more voices joined the murmurs. No one could understand how Volk had evaded the bull.


    Theories ranged from teleportation to some sort of Grum-gar ability, but none seemed to fit.


    Meanwhile, Volk stood quietly, ignoring the questions swirling around him. He knew exactly what had happened, but there was no need to exin.


    The system had gifted him with an ability known as Sidestep, allowing him to vanish from one ce and reappear in another in an instant.


    It was a perfect escape for situations just like this, but he had no intention of revealing his secret to the crowd.


    As the Orcs and Elves continued their chatter, Volk finally spoke, his voice calm and measured. "Can we go first now?"


    The question sent a wave of confusion through the crowd.


    They had barely processed what had just happened, and now Volk was acting as if nothing was amiss.


    The ns looked at him, bewildered, unsure of how to respond.


    "Go... first?" one of the Elves stammered, still trying to wrap his mind around what had just transpired.


    The Orcs of the Dreadmaw n, however, erupted in cheers.


    They had seen Volk''s strength firsthand, and they knew, deep down, that their leader had triumphed.


    "That''s Volk!" shouted Grashk, his voice booming as he raised a fist into the air. "As fast as a bullet!"


    "He didn''t even need to fight! The bull couldn''t touch him!"ughed Grok''Thar, his broad grin spreading from ear to ear.


    "Strongest there is!" another Dreadmaw Orc that was with Volk in their visit in this catb roared, pounding his chest heavily.


    The rest of the Dreadmaw n joined in, their voices rising in unison as they chanted Volk''s name, celebrating their victory.


    The other ns, however, were left dumbfounded. Even the proud Bloodfang n and the Elves from Ironhide could only stand and stare as the Dreadmaw warriors celebrated their leader.


    Suddenly, Volk turned toward Solluha''r, his expression softening. He reached out a hand, and Solluha''r, after a moment of hesitation, epted it.


    "Let''s go," Volk said quietly.


    Solluha''r nodded with an unreadable expression as she followed his lead.


    The Dreadmaw n, now standing at the entrance of the Catb, was preparing to move forward when a familiar voice rang out through the air, cutting through the cheers.


    "Wait!"


    The crowd went silent, and all eyes turned toward the source of the voice.


    Standing shakily on his feet, blood dripping from his mouth, was Grounad. His face was battered, his body bruised, but his eyes were filled with a fiery determination.


    "I''m not... done yet," he growled, his voice ragged but defiant.


    The Dreadmaw n halted, their


    eyes narrowing as they turned to face their fallen adversary of Volk.


    The tension in the air was palpable, as the crowd waited with bated breath for what would happen next.

 Chapter 87 : Unknown Reward

    The crowd was still reeling from the shocking turn of events, but before anyone could fully process what had happened, Grounad stood tall, still feeling his body battered and bruised, yet his expression was unbroken.


    Like a spirit knowing where it was going.


    Blood dripped down his mouth, but the fire in his eyes burned brighter than ever. L


    He turned to face the gathering of Orcs and Elves.


    "I may have fallen today, but I am no coward. I am no Orc who goes back on his word. From this moment forward, I am no longer a member of the Bloodfang n," he dered with a loud voice that echoed across the gathering.


    The crowd gasped.


    No one could believe what they were hearing.


    An Orc¡ªespecially one as proud as Grounad¡ªswearing allegiance to another n was unheard of.


    Murmurs began to ripple through the gathered Orcs and Elves, growing louder with each passing moment.


    "Did he just say..." an Ironhide Orc muttered, his voice trailing off in disbelief.


    "He''s abandoning the Bloodfang n?" an Elf whispered to herpanion, her eyes wide with astonishment.


    "Grounad, one of the strongest warriors¡ªNo! The strongest of the Bloodfang n in their younger generation, joining Dreadmaw?" arge Orc from the Stonefist n scoffed. "What madness is this?"


    "He gave his word, and he''s keeping it. A rare trait among Orcs these days," another Orc observed, his arms crossed as he nodded thoughtfully.


    But the Bloodfang n, Grounad''s own people, were the most shaken.


    The Orcs there wore expressions of betrayal, their murmurs filled with venom and disbelief.


    "He''s turning his back on his blood? On his own people?" one of the Bloodfang warriors spat, ring daggers at Grounad.


    "Volk humiliated him, and now he''s crawling away to save face," a Bloodfang Elder muttered, shaking his head in disgust. "Pathetic."


    Despite the jeers and insults being thrown his way, Grounad remained stoic.


    His decision had been made. His eyes, however, softened when they fell upon the figure of his elven wife, Mishana, standing among the crowd.


    Mishana was a striking figure among the Orcs. Her skin was as pale as moonlight, with an otherworldly glow that marked her as one of the High Elven witches.


    She stood tall and graceful, her flowing white hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of silk. Her eyes,rge and almond-shaped, were a piercing shade of emerald green, sharp with intelligence and unyielding strength.


    She was dressed in abination of elven leather armor and the furs of the Orcish ns, a symbol of her unique bond with Grounad.


    A light breeze stirred the silver strands of her hair as she gazed back at her husband, her expression unreadable.


    "Mishana," Grounad called out to her, his voice softer now, filled with a rare tenderness that he reserved only for her.


    He walked toward her, limping slightly from the beatdown of the bull, but still strong in his resolve.


    "Grounad," she replied, stepping forward to meet him, her voice as smooth as silk. "Are you sure of this? To leave your n? Your people? It''s not a decision that can be undone."


    Grounad nodded, his jaw set. "I gave my word, Mishana. I won''t go back on it. Not even for the Bloodfang n. Not even for my honor."


    Mishana searched his face for a moment, her sharp eyes flickering with emotion. "And what of me? What of us?" she asked, her voice quiet but firm. "If you leave, will I follow you into the Dreadmaw n? Will we be outcasts together?"


    The Orcs and Elves fell silent, listening intently to their conversation. This was more than just a decision about ns¡ªit was about family, about loyalty.


    Grounad reached out, gently cing his massive hand on Mishana''s cheek.


    "You are my wife, my partner. Where I go, you go. But... the choice is yours. If you want to remain with the Bloodfang n, I won''t stop you. I won''t force this on you."


    Mishana stood there for a moment, considering his words carefully. Her eyes flickered with a mix of emotions¡ªlove, loyalty, uncertainty. But there was also resolve in her gaze.


    She ced her hand over Grounad''s, her fingers delicate but strong.


    "Grounad, I am not one to be left behind. If you leave, then I leave with you. The Bloodfang n was never truly my home. You are. Wherever you go, I will follow."


    A murmur rippled through the crowd again, and Volk could hear every word as the Orcs and Elves spected on what had just transpired.


    "She''s leaving too?" an Ironhide Elf whispered. "She''s giving up her ce among the Bloodfang n for him?"


    "That''s love, I suppose," an Orc muttered, his brow furrowed.


    "Or foolishness," another Elf replied, shaking her head.


    "The Dreadmaw n gains a new warrior, and a High Elf no less," an Orc grumbled. "This is unprecedented."


    Grounad and Mishana stood together, united in their decision.


    They had chosen their path, and now they looked to Volk¡ªthe leader of the Dreadmaw n¡ªfor guidance. But when they turned their gaze toward him, they found only empty air.


    Volk was gone.


    "Where did he¡ª?" Grounad began, his voice trailing off in confusion.


    One of the Dreadmaw n warriors stepped forward, pointing toward the entrance of the catbs. "He''s already gone inside."


    Grounad and Mishana exchanged a nce, their expressions both astonished and impressed. Without another word, they hurried toward the entrance, scrambling to catch up.


    ---


    Meanwhile, deep inside the catbs, Volk stepped on through the darkness without a sense of purpose.


    The eerie silence of the underground passageways didn''t bother him. He had been here before. But this time, something felt different.


    The familiar glow of the system shed before his eyes, and he quickly checked histest reward.


    Ding!


    | System Reward: Radioactive Wireless Connectivity. |


    Volk furrowed his brow, staring at the strange message. "What the hell is this?" he muttered to himself. "Is this even a thing?"


    He swiped the notification away, focusing instead on his surroundings.


    When he had entered the catbsst time, the ce had been a dark, damp maze of stone and bones.


    The kind of ce where creatures lurked in the shadows, waiting for unsuspecting prey.


    But now... it was different.


    The cold stone walls had been reced with lush greenery.


    Trees and vines grew along the walls, their roots burrowing deep into the earth. The air was warm and fresh, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and damp soil. It was as if the catbs had transformed into an underground forest.


    "What is going on?" Volk whispered, his eyes wide with surprise.


    He stepped forward cautiously, his instincts on high alert.


    This was not the ce he had remembered.


    Something had changed within the depths of the catbs, something unnatural.


    His mind raced, trying to make sense of the transformation.


    How could a ce of death and decay turn into a living, breathing ecosystem? And more importantly¡ªwhat dangers now lurked within?


    As Volk ventured deeper into the unexpected greenery, the mystery of the catbs only grew thicker, and with every step, he knew that something far more dangerous awaited them within these depths.


    ---


    Just as Volk disappeared further into the unknown, Grounad and Mishana arrived at the entrance of the catbs, breathless and wide-eyed.


    "He''s already inside?" Grounad said, his voice tinged with frustration and admiration.


    "Then we have to hurry," Mishana replied, her eyes narrowing with determination. Together, they stepped into the green-infested depths, ready to face whatevery ahead.

 Chapter 88: Foreboding feeling

    Outside the entrance of the catbs, the air was tense with murmurs and discussions.


    The leaders of the gathered Orc ns stood in small circles, their imposing figures casting long shadows in the dim light.


    It was an unusual alliance: the Bloodfang n, the Ironhide n, the Thunderstrike n, the Stonefist n, the Shadoww n, the Fireblood n, and the Frostbite n.


    Despite the uneasy truce, none of them could hide their disdain toward the Dreadmaw n¡ªa n known for its hunting prowess but not much else.


    "Hmph, can you believe it?" sneered Garnok, the chieftain of the Thunderstrike n, his massive arms crossed over his chest. "A hunter n, of all things, is the first to enter the catbs. They probably think tracking animals is the same as conquering dungeons."


    The Ironhide Chieftain, Raghur, chuckled heartily, hisrge frame shaking with mirth.


    "Hunters, not warriors, indeed. The Dreadmaw n may know how to stalk prey, but they know nothing of realbat. That Volk is no warrior¡ªhe''s a mereborer! A grunt who moves rocks, not mountains."


    Several of the Orcs from the surrounding ns snickered, nodding in agreement. Their voices were filled with arrogance and a deep sense of superiority.


    "Exactly," said Brakkas, leader of the Stonefist n, his deep, gravelly voice carrying through the group.


    "The Dreadmaws are skilled in hunting beasts and scavenging, but they''ve never stood in the front lines of a true battle. They don''t have the strength or the courage for it."


    "Nor the bloodlust," added Zarrath, the shadowy leader of the Shadoww n, his eyes gleaming with malice. "They can sneak through forests and hide in the brush, but in the open, they are nothing. They don''t know the taste of a true kill."


    The Elves standing nearby, from various allied tribes, exchanged knowing nces. Stay updated with m-v le-mpyr


    Though their expressions were neutral, they, too, seemed to share the opinion that the Dreadmaw n was far beneath the other Orc ns in terms of prowess.


    "I''ve seen more battle spirit in a deer," an Ironhide Orcughed, his voice thick with derision.


    "They''ll lose themselves in those catbs," said another Orc from the Fireblood n, his massive form illuminated by the flickering mes of a nearby torch.


    "The moment they run into something they can''t hunt, they''ll be finished. This ce isn''t a forest¡ªit''s a dungeon. It''ll eat them alive."


    Theughter grew louder, more boisterous.


    It was clear that no one among the gathered ns took the Dreadmaw n seriously.


    To them, the Dreadmaws were barely more than a nuisance¡ªuseful for hunting and tracking, but worthless in the heat of battle or the depths of the dungeon.


    "Hunters, not warriors," one Frostbite Orc muttered under his breath, shaking his head.


    Yet, as theughter echoed through the gathering, it was Varrok, the chieftain of the Bloodfang n, who broke the mirth with a deep, rumbling voice.


    "True, the Dreadmaws are hunters. But this Volk... there''s something different about him."


    The words hung in the air for a moment, silencing the mocking conversations.


    Varrok''s voice carried weight, for the Bloodfang n was among the most feared and respected of all the Orc ns.


    "Different?" asked Garnok, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "He''s just abor Orc. What could possibly be different about him? Plus, it was just pure luck after all, just a simple unique skill that they identally discovered. Not much of a strong indication that it would rm us."


    Varrok stroked his chin thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the entrance to the catbs, where Volk had vanished.


    "I''ve seen plenty ofbor Orcs in my time, but none like him. He defeated Grounad, one of our strongest warriors, with... I don''t even know what he did. One moment he was there, the next, he was gone, and the bull mmed into Grounad. Do you all feep a magic?"


    There was a murmur of surprise and confusion among the other n leaders.


    "A trick, maybe," suggested Zarrath, his voice dripping with skepticism. "A trick of the eye. The Dreadmaws are cunning hunters, after all. But they rely on deception, not strength."


    Varrok shook his head. "It wasn''t a deception. It was something else. He teleported. Or moved so fast that none of us could see him. Whatever it was, it''s why we lost.


    And I don''t think we should dismiss him so easily."


    A tense silence fell over the group as the words sunk in.


    For a moment, the arrogance faded from their expressions, reced by something closer to wariness.


    But then, Raghur, the Ironhide Chieftain, burst outughing, the sound echoing through the air. "Haha! Oh,e now, Varrok. You can''t be serious! Abor Orc from a hunter n? Teleporting?


    Outpacing a Bloodfang warrior like Grounad? The Dreadmaws got lucky, that''s all. Nothing more."


    Theughter spread like wildfire, rolling through the gathered Orcs and Elves.


    "Lucky indeed! Maybe it''s because his body was made from a Labor Orc that we didn''t see or feel a disturbance of magic in the air, making it seem invisible!" one Orc from the Shadoww n cackled, pping his knee.


    "Luck runs out in the dungeons, though," added another Orc from the Stonefist n, hisughter booming like thunder.


    But theughter pause when a curious Elf, standing near the back of the group, raised a question. His voice, soft and lilting, cut through the noise like a whisper carried on the wind.


    "But... what if the Dreadmaw n reaches the bottom of the dungeon first? What if they im the treasure that lies within? Will we follow them then?


    "After all, it was agreed that the Bloodfang n would lead us once we entered. But now that the Dreadmaw n has gone in first, they might take what we came for.


    Plus, since they are a hunter n, aren''t they experts at hunting animals and beasts? What if they clear it before us? What will happen then? Are we going to acknowledge them as our leaders?"


    The question was like a sharp thin m of whip in the air, casting a brief silence over the crowd.


    There was a flicker of unease among the Orcs, a moment where they seemed to consider the possibility.


    But it was Brakkas, the Stonefist Chieftain, who broke the silence with a derisive snort.


    "Follow the Dreadmaws? Hah! Impossible. They won''t make it halfway through the dungeon before they''re torn apart by the creatures within. They''re hunters, not warriors. They''ll track the beast but won''t be able to kill it."


    "The moment they encounter something bigger than a deer, they''ll be finished," Raghur added with a cruel smile.


    "Even if they did manage to find the treasure, it would be wasted on them," muttered Zarrath, his dark eyes gleaming with contempt. "They wouldn''t know what to do with it."


    The Elves and Orcs alike erupted inughter once more, the sound filling the air with mocking mirth. The idea of the Dreadmaw n seeding where others had failed was simply too ludicrous for them to entertain.


    "Impossible!" they chorused, their voices full of condescension.


    And so, they stood,ughing at the thought of the Dreadmaw n ever bing anything more than simple hunters.


    The idea of them reaching the bottom of the dungeon, iming the treasure, or leading the rest of the Orc ns was absurd to them.


    Completely impossible, very impossible.

 Chapter 89: Follower

    Volk stood among the Dreadmaw n members, watching as the Old Orcs of the n sat in silence, suppressing the natural strength in their bodies while the Elves, their partners, held back their mana.


    It was a strange sight, one that felt wrong to Volk, who was part of the younger generation.


    The Old Orcs remained still, one could see their faces were all nk, as if waiting for something unknown.


    The atmosphere was tense, a quiet resolve hanging over the group. No one moved, no one spoke.


    Their goal, Volk reminded himself, was simple: stay in the dungeon until the war on the surface subsided.


    Survive.


    That was all they had to do, but something about it bothered him.


    Yes, it bothered him so much.


    Volk felt like this wasn''t the Dreadmaw n he knew¡ªhunters, trackers, fighters.


    They were warriors, not passive bystanders waiting for the storm to pass.


    Volk''s brow furrowed as he looked at everyone again to watch them suppress their physique and abilities.


    Maybe, just maybe, he was new to the internal workings of the Dreadmaw n, so he didn''t know much about them.


    The catb itself was different from what he remembered.


    When he had entered itst, it had been a narrow, dark space, with walls of jagged stone closing in on every side.


    Now, the ce seems to have expanded.


    It was almost... alive.


    Lush greenery covered the once barren ground, with vines creeping up the walls.


    The air was thick with a strange energy, like the pulse of something vast and ancient beneath the surface.


    "Why is it different?" Volk muttered under his breath. "Are the beastsing out now? Should we all prepare and not listen to the Old Orcs to stay and just be prepared?"


    There was a growing sense of unease inside his head, and it seemed to want to drill deep at it.


    Something was missing, something important. But what?


    Suddenly, cutting through his thoughts, a voice called out.


    Familiar.


    It seemed to resonate through the dense atmosphere of the dungeon, clear even among the silent crowd of Dreadmaw Orcs and Elves.


    "Volk!"


    At first, he thought he had imagined it. But the call came again, louder this time.


    "Volk!"


    He scanned the sea of Orcs and Elves around him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.


    Who could it be?


    As his gaze swept over the crowd, his heart skipped a beat when he finally saw the source of the voice.


    "Grounad?" Volk whispered in disbelief.


    At his side, Solluha''r, his wife and his Main Nuclear Reactor, stepped forward, hugged his shoulder and followed his gaze. "Isn''t that the guy you defeated? The one from the Bloodfang n?"


    Volk nodded slowly, still trying to wrap his head around the scene unfolding before him. "Yes... it''s him."


    Why was Grounad here, among the Dreadmaw n?


    The Bloodfang n had always looked down on the Dreadmaws.


    They were not enemies, nor rivals but they looked down at the Dreadmaw n for being a hunter n.


    However, here Grounad was, walking toward him with eagerness, looking like he had purpose, sign his broad shoulders squared, and wearing a serious face.


    When Grounad finally stood before Volk, he panted a little, and when he finally recovered, he bowed slightly, a gesture of respect that made the younger Orc''s eyes widen in surprise.


    Beside Grounad was a tall, graceful Elf woman, her sharp features softened by a calm smile. Her long, silvery hair fell over her shoulders, and her green eyes glinted in the dim light of the catb.


    "Volk, Ie before you not as an enemy, but as a follower." Grounad''s voice was deep, and there was a strange pride in his tone.


    Volk blinked. "A follower? What are you talking about?"


    "You remember our fight, don''t you? I gave my word. If you defeated me, I would join you. I, Grounad of the Bloodfang n, am a warrior who does not go back on his word. From this day forward, I am no longer of the Bloodfang n. I will follow you, Volk, and be part of the Dreadmaw n."


    The murmurs began immediately.


    The younger Orcs and Elves surrounding them exchanged confused nces. Volk could hear the whispers clearly.


    "What? He''s leaving the Bloodfang n?"


    "Didn''t they hate the Dreadmaw? Why would he join us?"


    "Is this some kind of trick?"


    But Grounad stood tall, unbothered by the murmurs.


    He turned to the Elf beside him and gestured toward her. "This is my wife, Mishina. She stands by my side in all things, and today, she, too, chooses to follow me in this new path. We pledge our loyalty to you, Volk."


    Volk''s eyes flickered between Grounad and Mishina, still trying to process what was happening.


    He had never expected Grounad to take their fight seriously enough to leave his n. But here he was, standing in the heart of the Dreadmaw n, dering his loyalty.


    It was... bewildering.


    "Mishina," Grounad said, turning to his wife. "What do you think of this? Are you sure you want to follow me? I won''t force you into this life."


    The Elf woman smiled softly, her voice calm but firm.


    "Grounad, where you go, I will go. We have always faced challenges together, and this will be no different. Whether we are part of the Bloodfang n or the Dreadmaw n, my loyalty is to you. And if you believe in this new path, then I will walk it with you."


    Their words hung in the air, and for a moment, Volk didn''t know what to say.


    He can go and shamelesslymand anyone to action, and he would befortable if it was inside his n. But this?


    A warrior from a rival n swearing loyalty to him?


    Is this for real?


    He felt somewhat ufortable with this idea.


    "You... really mean it?" Volk muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.


    "I do," Grounad replied proudly. "I am Grounad, once of the Bloodfang n, now a follower of Volk. My aplishments in the Bloodfang will mean nothing now, for I will earn new ones under your leadership."


    Volk scratched his head awkwardly, unsure how to react. "Uh... I, uh... I ept your loyalty."


    Grounad grinned, his fierce eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good. Then it''s settled."


    Before the conversation could continue, Grounad suddenly looked around, his brow furrowing. "But tell me, Volk, why is the Dreadmaw n not moving? You''ve led them this far, but now everyone is just standing still. Why?"


    Volk blinked. "What do you mean?"


    "I mean, why is no one advancing? Why are they all suppressing their strength and mana?" Grounad''s voice was filled with confusion. "Is this some kind of strategy? Are they waiting for something? Because from where I stand, it looks like they''re... hiding."


    The question sent a ripple through Volk''s head. He had been thinking about these thoughts since earlier, about the strange change in the catb that he had noticed.


    Should the Dreadmaw n move?


    Should they progress deep into the dungeon?


    Volk could see that Grounad was really confused.


    What was really happening here?


    Should they really move and not stay and wait for the war to settle?

 Chapter 90: Other Orc Clans secret

    Volk stared at Grounad, with his brow furrowed incredibly in confusion.


    "I thought we only needed to stay here, wait for the war above to settle down between Red elven Warlocks and Dark Elven Witches, and then we coulde back, right?"


    His voice held uncertainty, as if the n he had believed in suddenly made no sense.


    Grounad nced at him with an expression of realization, his rough features softening as he remembered something crucial.


    "That''s what the other ns want you to think, Volk. But it''s not that simple."


    The Dreadmaw n had always been different.


    Discriminated against.


    Shunned by the other Orc ns because of their perceived weakness.


    Volk didn''t know that much as Grounad observe his facial expression. And probably, Volk also didn''t understand why it mattered so much here, in this dungeon.


    "You don''t know, do you?"


    Grounad continued, his tone patient but serious.


    "The Dreadmaw n has always been looked down upon. Other Orc ns view us as weak, unfit to fight in the true battles that define an Orc''s honor.


    "They''ve even turned us away when some of our best warriors tried to join them. And because of that, we''re not included in any of the major decisions. Were left out of the most important things."


    Volk''s expression grew darker as he listened.


    He had always sensed that the Dreadmaw n was considered different, but he hadn''t realized the extent of the discrimination. His fists clenched as he thought of how their strength had been questioned for generations.


    "But now... we''re here, right?" Volk asked, his voice low. "And that means something, doesn''t it?"


    Grounad nodded. "Yes, it means they''ve realized something important. You see, Volk, you know about the Dark Elven Warlocks outside on the opposite side of the gate of this catb, right?"


    Volk nodded, his thoughts flickering back to what he knew about the warlocks. "Yeah, they''ve been enemies of the Orc ns for years and I know that they are here to take revenge. But what about them?"


    "It''s not just the warlocks anymore." Grounad''s voice dropped to a near whisper, and his eyes darted around, as if making sure no one else was listening.


    "There are also Dark Elven Witches on the other side of the catb outside. They''re just as dangerous, if not more so, than the warlocks. And the other Orc ns¡ªthey know it. That''s why they''re not just nning to wait this out, like you thought."


    Volk''s heart began to race. "What are you saying?"


    Grounad sighed deeply, hisrge shoulders rising and falling in a slow, deliberate motion.


    "The real goal isn''t just to survive the war and wait for the battle outside to subside between the two sides. No, the real goal is to get to the bottom of the catb and retrieve the crystals that are forming down there."


    Volk blinked, taken aback. "Crystals? Why would they get it?" Read thetest on m_v-l''e-NovelFire


    "Yes," Grounad confirmed. "Crystals with immense power. After you take thest formed one, there will be newly formed ones gonna be created too.


    "And the only way to escape this entire war is to get to the bottom of thepleted catb, find those crystals, and drip your blood onto them. If the catb epts you, you''ll be sent to another dimension¡ªone where the war doesn''t reach. That''s the real goal, Volk."


    The young Orc stared at him, speechless. "But... What about the Warlocks? And the Dark Elven Witches?"


    Grounad leaned in closer.


    "If you go back now, if you try to escape the normal way, they''ll be waiting for you. The Warlocks and the Witches will ughter anyone who tries to leave this dungeon alive.


    "The other Orc ns know this. That''s why they''re fighting to get to the bottom and be epted by the n. The only way to survive is toplete the catb. That''s the only way out."


    A heavy silence settled over them as the weight of Grounad''s words hit Volk like a hammer.


    Volk felt his chest tighten, with his mind racing as he tried to process what he had just learned.


    "So there''s no other choice... but to escape through the crystals and let the dungeon be sent to other dimensions?" Volk asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Grounad nodded grimly. "Sadly, yes. If there were another way, we''d take it. But the presence of the Dark Elven Witches means we don''t have that luxury. This is thest option. But now, I am telling you, Volk, that we need to get to the bottom first or all of us will die."


    Volk felt a chill run down his spine.


    The reality of the situation was far more dangerous than he had anticipated.


    If they didn''t reach the bottom, if they didn''tplete the catb, they would all be killed.


    And then Grounad added something that made Volk''s blood run cold. "Fortunately, you''ve alreadypleted the catb once, Volk. If not for you, we''d all be dead by now."


    Volk stood frozen, his mind reeling from the truth of their predicament. He hadpleted the catb once, yes. But could he do it again? Could they all do it together?


    Suddenly, a sharp, metallic sound echoed through the cavern.


    Volk''s reflexes kicked in, and he moved just in time to avoid a deadly sh of a sword that had been aimed directly at him.


    The de whistled past him, missing by mere inches. He stumbled back, his heart pounding in his chest.


    "What the¡ª" he began, but his words were cut off when he saw who had attacked him.


    Standing before him, holding a massive, serrated sword, was the chieftain of the Dreadmaw n.


    The chieftain was an imposing figure, towering over even thergest of the Orcs around him. His skin was a deep, mottled green, with scars criss crossing his arms and chest, a testament to countless battles.


    His eyes were wild, filled with a mix of fury and madness.


    Long, matted hair hung down his back, and his tusks jutted out from his mouth like sharpened ivory spears. His armor was adorned with the bones of beasts, and his presence alone sent a wave of tension through the cavern.


    "How dare you!" the chieftain bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls.


    Volk stared at him, his mind still reeling from the near-death experience. "What are you¡ª"


    "You dare to challenge the authority of the Dreadmaw n? You, abor Orc? How dare you think you can lead us into this dungeon! You''re a disgrace!"


    Volk''s eyes narrowed.


    This was not the reaction he had expected. He had saved them. He hadpleted the catb. And now this?


    But before he could respond, the chieftain raised his sword again, ready to strike.


    "You''re no leader! You''re a fool! And I will show everyone here what happens to fools who defy the Dreadmaw n!"


    The crowd of Orcs and Elves around them tensed, their eyes wide with fear and wonder why he is attacking.


    The tension in the air was palpable.


    Volk clenched his fists, his body preparing for a fight.


    If the chieftain wanted to challenge him, then so be it.


    But something deep inside him warned that this fight would be unlike any other he had faced before.

 Chapter 91: Important Mission

    Volk stared at the chieftain, his muscles tensing as he held back the urge to strike.


    "What is your problem, chieftain?"


    Read exclusive content at m_v-l''-NovelFire


    His voice was low, controlled, but there was a hint of frustration.


    He didn''t understand why the chieftain had attacked him so suddenly, and more importantly, why the older Orc was so furious.


    The chieftain, his eyes filled with seething rage, stepped forward, his massive figure towering over Volk.


    His gnarled hands gripped the handle of his sword tightly, and the air around him seemed to grow heavy.


    "My problem?" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the cavern. "You dare ask me what my problem is?"


    Volk said nothing, standing his ground. He could feel the eyes of the other Orcs and Elves on them, watching in silence.


    The older Orcs in particr seemed to be waiting for something.


    The chieftain continued, his voice booming with anger.


    "I am the chieftain of this tribe! It is my duty, my right, to ept new members into the Dreadmaw n! Not yours!" He jabbed a finger at Volk, his face twisted in fury.


    "You, abor Orc, think you have the authority to bring someone into my tribe without my permission? You have insulted me in front of my n, in front of our ancestors!"


    Volk blinked, confused. "I didn''t know¡ª"


    "Exactly!" the chieftain interrupted, his voice cutting like a de.


    "You didn''t know! Because you are ignorant! You are not worthy of making decisions for this tribe. You are not worthy of leading anyone, let alone someone like Grounad." He spat the name like it was poison on his tongue.


    The chieftain''s eyes gleamed with anger as he continued.


    "By epting Grounad into our tribe, you have challenged my reign as chieftain. You, who are barely more than a child in the eyes of our people, dare to think you can usurp my authority?"


    Volk opened his mouth to speak, but the chieftain wasn''t done. He raised his sword and pointed it at Volk''s chest, his voice shaking with fury.


    "Even with my power suppressed, even if I am no stronger than you or the others here, my pride as an Orc Warrior is not something the likes of you can trample on!


    "You think that just because you''vepleted the catb, you have the right to disrespect me? To disrespect our traditions?"


    The older generation of Orcs, who had been standing silently, raised their hands in agreement, their faces stern.


    One of them, a grizzled Orc with scars running down his arms, spoke up.


    "The chieftain is right. You have disrespected the traditions of the Dreadmaw n, Volk. The chieftain must be the one to ept new members. For you to do it without his permission is a grave insult."


    Another elder, her voice rough with age, added, "You have challenged his authority. The punishment for such disrespect is death. Offer your head, Volk, and ept your fate."


    Volk stood there, speechless. He hadn''t known.


    No one had told him that only the chieftain could ept new members into the tribe. It was an unspoken rule, one that the older generation seemed to understand instinctively.


    However, Volk?


    He was from a different world, a different life. And now, he was being condemned for something he didn''t even know was wrong.


    As the elders continued to call for his death, Volk''s mind drifted back to his past life. He remembered being in a wheelchair, his body weak and frail.


    The adults around him, caregivers and teachers, had always been quick to scold him, to tell him what to do.


    Even the smallest mistakes would earn their anger.


    He had been powerless then, just as he felt now.


    They had lied to his parents, making him out to be a troublemaker, when all he had ever wanted was to live in peace.


    Just because he was weak, just because he didn''t know any better, they had abused their authority over him.


    The memories stirred a deep hatred within him.


    The same hatred he had felt as a child, the same hatred he had tried to bury when he came to this world. But now, it was bubbling to the surface again.


    The chieftain and the elders¡ªwere they any different from the adults in his past life? Were they just using their authority to oppress him because they could?


    Volk''s jaw clenched as the anger inside him grew.


    He wasn''t weak anymore.


    He wasn''t powerless. And he wasn''t going to stand here and let them dictate his fate.


    He was about to speak, about to defend himself, when suddenly, a familiar sound echoed in his mind.


    | Ding!


    A message from the system appeared before his eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light of the cavern.


    | Reach and drip some blood first on the newly forming crystal deep in the dungeon within thirty minutes.


    | Rewards: The host will always be sent to a dimension near where the Nuclear Reactor Vessel will be sent to.


    | Failure: Death of everyone in the Dreadmaw n, including the host. |


    Volk''s eyes widened in shock as he read the message.


    "What...?" he whispered under his breath. His mind raced.


    A crystal?


    A new dimension? And what was this about a Nuclear Reactor Vessel?


    He didn''t have time to think.


    The system had given him a time limit¡ªthirty minutes.


    If he didn''t reach the crystal in time, he would lose whatever reward was being offered. And something told him that the reward was more important than anything else happening right now.


    After all, the punishment is nothing but death!


    His gaze shifted from the system message to the chieftain, who was still ring at him with fury in his eyes.


    The chieftain had no idea what was going on in Volk''s mind, no idea that something far more important than their petty dispute was at stake.


    Volk swallowed his salivas hard, trying to keep hisposure.


    He needed to act quickly.


    He couldn''t waste time arguing with the chieftain, not when the system was offering him a way out¡ªpossibly a way to survive.


    His eyes darted to Solluha''r, his partner.


    She was standing a few feet away, her expression one of concern and confusion.


    She hadn''t said a word during the confrontation, but now, as Volk''s gaze met hers, she seemed to sense that something was wrong.


    Volk took a deep breath.


    He didn''t know what to do next, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn''t stay here and wait for the chieftain to decide his fate.


    Not when the system had just handed him a lifeline.


    Without saying a word, he nodded to Solluha''r, signaling that they needed to move.


    She gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod in return, understanding the urgency in his eyes.


    But before Volk could make his move, the chieftain raised his sword again, his voice thundering through the cavern.


    "How dare you stand there in silence, little Labor Volk? Do you have no respect for your elders? No respect for the traditions of our n?"


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest as he tried to think of a way out.


    The system''s message lingered in his mind, urging him to act. But the chieftain was in his way, and Volk knew that if he made the wrong move now, he might not survive long enough to reach the crystal.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 92: Wont be a problem

    Volk''s jaw clenched as the chieftain''s words echoed in his ears.


    His muscles tensed with the weight of a decision he never thought he''d have to make.


    He had always respected the older generation even in his past life, had even tried to understand their ways, but this¡ªthis was different.


    The chieftain was pushing him too far, trying to cling to power and traditions that no longer made sense.


    Without thinking, Volk stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. His voice was calm, but the undercurrent of anger was unmistakable.


    "Look, old one," he began, his words dripping with contempt, "you''ve suppressed your body and mana, and you''re still injured. I don''t want to fight such weakness."


    The chieftain''s face contorted in fury, but Volk didn''t stop. "Rest for now," he continued, his voice growing sharper. "Wait for me. I''ll give you a quick death when I return. If bing chieftain is what you want me to do, I''ll take that title from you without breaking a sweat."


    There was a stunned silence.


    Every Orc and Elf in the chamber stood frozen, their mouths agape, unable to process what they had just heard.


    It was as if time had stopped.


    Volk didn''t even nce back at the chieftain. He turned on his heel and strode away, his steps echoing in the eerie quiet that followed his deration.


    As Volk disappeared into the shadows of the dungeon, Grounad stood, ck-jawed.


    He hadn''t expected this kind of confidence¡ªor was it arrogance? Whatever it was, he admired it.


    After a brief pause, Grounad turned to his wife, Mishana. Her pale face glistened with worry, her silver hair catching the dim light of the cavern. She nodded slightly, knowing what he was about to do.


    "Wait here," Grounad muttered, his deep voiceced with urgency. Mishana''s emerald eyes bore into his, but she didn''t object. She trusted him.


    Without wasting another second, Grounad took off, with his massive legs pumping as he chased after Volk.


    Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!


    The older Orcs and Elves could only watch in disbelief as he vanished from sight.


    However, he wasn''t the only one.


    Grashk, Grok''Thar, and several others who had followed Volk previously shared a nce, and without a word, they too began to move.


    The Elves stood in silence, unsure of what to make of the scene before them.


    Solluha''r, standing among the elders, furrowed her brow, clearly torn between staying behind and following her partner.


    The older generation of Orcs and Elves exchanged confused nces, but none of them dared speak up.


    They were bbergasted by the sheer audacity of what was happening.


    ---


    Grounad''s heavy footsteps echoed through the winding halls of the dungeon, but he finally caught up to Volk, who was striding ahead with a singr focus.


    The dim light of the dungeon''s eerie glow cast long shadows, but Grounad could see the determination in Volk''s gait. He hurried to fall into step beside him.


    "Volk," Grounad called out, slightly breathless. Volk slowed, ncing over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.


    "This... this is the same asst time," Grounad said, his voice a mix of curiosity and anxiety. "The greenery, the strange nts¡ªthey weren''t here before, but the dungeonyout? It''s almost identical."


    Volk raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked, genuinely surprised.


    Grounad nodded. "Yeah. It''s the same, but with one critical difference."


    "And what''s that?" Volk asked, his eyes narrowing.


    "The numbers," Grounad replied gravely. "The monsters¡ªthey''ve tripled in number. The dungeon is summoning creatures from different dimensions. The traps, the challenges¡ªit''s all going to be a lot worse this time."


    Volk frowned, letting the information sink in. His mind began working quickly, calcting the implications of what Grounad had just said.


    Tripled monsters?


    Summoned from other dimensions?


    This dungeon wasn''t just a death trap anymore¡ªit was something much more dangerous.


    And yet, he felt no fear.


    Instead, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.


    "Then this won''t be a problem," Volk muttered to himself, more amused than concerned.


    Grounad stared at him in disbelief. "What do you mean, it won''t be a problem? This dungeon''s difficulty has been ramped up to an insane level! We''ll be facing monsters we''ve never even seen before."


    Volk shrugged, his casual demeanor unnerving Grounad. "I can handle worse." He nced back at the others who had followed him into the depths. "And besides, we''re not alone."


    The others, Grashk, Grok''Thar, and the few others who had loyally followed Volk, now caught up with them, their faces a mixture of excitement and trepidation.


    They had heard Grounad''s warning, but they shared Volk''s confidence.


    "So," Volk said, turning to face his small group, "who''s ready to tear through this dungeon?"


    Grashk grinned, revealing sharp, yellowed teeth. "As long as we''re following you, Volk, I think we''ve got a chance."


    Grok''Thar nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I''m not afraid of a few extra monsters. Let theme."


    Volk couldn''t help but smirk.


    The loyalty and confidence of these Orcs were contagious.


    They didn''t care about the odds¡ªthey trusted him. And Volk? He trusted himself.


    No!


    He trusted his Grum-gar form and system.


    "Good," he said simply, turning back toward the path ahead. "Let''s move."


    As they began to press deeper into the dungeon, Grounad walked alongside Volk, still troubled by the growing danger. "You really think we can survive this?" he asked quietly, his voice tinged with doubt.


    Volk nced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Survive? Grounad, we''re not here to survive. We''re here to conquer."


    The sheer audacity of Volk''s words left Grounad speechless for a moment. He had followed him down into the dungeon, believing in his strength after their fight, but now he was starting to see something else in Volk¡ªsomething that wasn''t just strength or confidence.


    It was something far deeper.


    A will.


    A drive.


    Something that couldn''t be easily crushed.


    Is this really the weak Dreadmaw n?


    They walked for several more minutes in silence, the air growing colder as the path narrowed and the stone walls began to close in around them.


    The faint sound of growls echoed in the distance, the first sign that the dungeon was preparing to unleash its horrors upon them.


    Finally, Volk stopped, his eyes scanning the path ahead. "There," he whispered, nodding toward the faint glow of crystal shards embedded in the walls. "This is where it begins." Read new chapters at m_v-l''e-NovelBin


    Grounad''s grip tightened around his axe as he followed Volk''s gaze. The sound of approaching monsters grew louder, the ground vibrating beneath their feet.


    Volk cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders in preparation. "This dungeon may have tripled its threats," he said, "but that just means more opportunities for us."


    With a quick nce to hisrades, Volk added, "Stay sharp. Watch each other''s backs. And remember¡ªthis isn''t just about surviving. We''re here to win."


    The first of the monsters appeared at the edge of the corridor, its snarling face illuminated by the faint glow of the crystals.


    Behind it, the sounds of more creatures approaching grew louder, a cacophony of roars and growls that promised an onught.


    It''s like a stampede of monsters and they were together.


    Volk gripped his weapon tightly, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Let''s get to work."

 Chapter 93: Flabbergasted

    Grounad''s mind had been spinning ever since that fateful day, and that nagging curiosity wouldn''t let him rest for even a single minute.


    How had the Dreadmaw n managed to pass through the other ns so easily?


    Did they really fight all those monsters?


    Or was there something else going on that he didn''t know about?


    And now, as they prepared to descend deeper into the dungeon, his thoughts swirled even more intensely when he sensed the monsters were near.


    Is this it?


    Grounad will find out now?


    He was thinking maybe that Volk or the new generation of the Dreadmaw n Orcs was really different.


    After all, after being ragdolled by the bull earlier, he was not that stupid.


    He saw Volk teleport, but he''s not sure if Volk really used magic at that time.


    It was as if Volk had naturally hazardous magic particles in his body that were so well concentrated that he didn''t even notice.


    ng! ng! ng!


    Volk mmed his bone spear on his bone shield. And the others followed suit.


    ng! ng! ng! ng! ng! ng!


    ng! ng! ng!


    Gulp!


    Grounad stood there as he couldn''t shake the image of Volk marching forward with such confidence.


    Why wasn''t he taking the convenient way out?


    Did they really go through that shortcut full of monsters thest time? And now, they were going to do it again, with even more monsters waiting for them.


    He couldn''t understand it.


    It defied reason.


    Volk wasn''t even flinching.


    His curiosity was burning inside him. He wanted to ask, but before he could open his mouth, Volk''s voice rang out, loud and clear, cutting through the stillness of the dungeon like a de.


    "ARE YOU READY, DREADMAW CLAN?"


    Volk bellowed, with his voice filled with challenge and desire forbat.


    The others, without hesitation, shouted back, with their voices echoing in the dark corridors.


    "WE ARE READY!"


    Even Grounad, despite the questions that still swarming at his head, found himself yelling alongside them. His chest swelled with determination, though confusion lingered just beneath the surface.


    "WE ARE READY!" he shouted, feeling the weight of the moment, even as his thoughts screamed for answers.


    Suddenly, the faint sound of scurrying ws and low growls grew louder as the monsters emerged from the depths of the tunnel.


    These were creatures Grounad couldn''t recognize¡ªbeasts twisted and grotesque, with glowing eyes and gnarled limbs.


    They crawled and slithered toward them, the air around them thick with their stench.


    But then... something unexpected happened.


    The monsters stopped.


    They froze, mid-step, their glowing eyes widening in terror.


    It was like a bolt of lightning.


    Even Grounad found himself frozen, with his body immediately felt so tense, not understanding what was happening.


    "What is going on?" he muttered, with his voice barely a whisper as he watched in disbelief.


    The creatures¡ªeach one more horrifying than thest¡ªbegan to tremble. And then, as if driven by some unseen force, they turned and fled.


    Swack! Swack! Swack!


    The scurrying ws and growls turned to pitiful whimpers as the monsters scrambled away in fear, disappearing into the shadows from which they hade.


    The Dreadmaw n Orcs stood still for a moment, their weapons still in their hands, watching the monsters retreat.


    Then, as if nothing had happened, they sheathed their weapons and started walking again, casually continuing their journey as if they hadn''t just been confronted by a swarm of terrifying beasts.


    Grounad stood there, bbergasted, his mind struggling toprehend what had just unfolded. He blinked several times, his grip still tight on his weapon. "What the... just happened?" he finally asked, his voice shaky with disbelief.


    Before anyone could respond, a boomingugh erupted from Grashk, one of the Dreadmaw warriors. "HAHAHAHAHAHA!"


    The others joined in, theirughter filling the cavern, each one casting amused nces at Grounad.


    "LOOK AT HIS FACE!" Grok''Thar bellowed between fits ofughter. "HAHAHAHA! HE''S COMPLETELY LOST RIGHT NOW HAHAHAHHA!"


    Another Orc pounded his fist on his thigh, doubling over withughter. "YOU SHOULD''VE SEEN YOUR EXPRESSION, GROUNAD! YOU LOOKED LIKE YOU JUST SAW A GHOST!" Hisughter was so intense that he could barely get the words out.


    "HAHAHAHAHA!" The chorus ofughter grew louder as more and more of the Dreadmaw n joined in, their voices filling the cavern with an infectious joy.


    "OH SHIT! OH SHIT! HAHAHAHAHA!"


    They pped each other on the back, wiped tears from their eyes, and pointed at Grounad, who could do nothing but stand there, utterly bewildered.


    Finally, one of the Dreadmaw n Orcs, still chuckling, slung an arm around Grounad''s broad shoulders.


    "Ah, don''t be too hard on yourself, Grounad," the Orc said, grinning. "You''re not the first to be confused by it. Volk has... Well, let''s just say he''s got a unique quality."


    Grounad looked at him, still dazed. "What do you mean?"


    The Orc''s grin widened. "You see, Volk''s a Labor Orc. Probably because he''s spent his life toiling in the worst conditions, working with hazardous magic particles, dangerous substances that would kill most Orcs. But for some unknown reason, Volk''s body has absorbed so much of that hazardous magic unlike other normal Labor Orcs, it''s like a shield."


    "Yeah," another Orc chimed in, still snickering. "The monsters? They smell that magic on him, and they think he''s some kind of beast¡ªa predator even stronger than they are who was more adapted to the magic particles. They don''t daree near him."


    Grounad blinked, trying to make sense of it all. "But... shouldn''t he be dead if he''s contaminated with hazardous magic?"


    The Orcs around him just shrugged, their faces still amused.


    "Who knows?" one of them said, his tone nonchnt. "Volk''s survived it this long. Maybe he''s tougher than the rest of us. Or maybe he''s just too stubborn to die. As long as it works, it works¡­ Haha!"


    Another bout ofughter rippled through the group, but this time, Grounad couldn''t help but chuckle along with them, even though he still didn''t fully understand.


    As theughter died down, Volk turned and nced over his shoulder at the group, his expression calm and unreadable.


    Without saying a word, he continued forward, leading the Dreadmaw n deeper into the tunnel.


    The air grew colder as they descended further into the dungeon, the stone walls narrowing around them.


    The path ahead was dark, but there was a strange, faint light at the far end of the tunnel, casting eerie shadows on the walls.


    Grounad walked alongside the others, his thoughts still racing, but now mixed with a strange sense of awe.


    Volk... contaminated by hazardous magic particles?


    It was beyond anything he had ever heard of, but somehow, it made sense.


    He didn''t know that Orcs are naturally not able to survive in harsh conditions, after all, they came from another dimension, but due to the future generations being born here, they naturally got those hazard particles, and Volk must be the most abnormal Labor Orc.


    That''s what Grounad thought.


    However¡­


    The way the monsters had fled¡ªit wasn''t natural.


    Volk, it''s like he had something about him, something dangerous, something that even the monsters feared, and he felt that the hazardous magic particles are not cut to it. But he is also not sure.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the end of the tunnel.


    The light grew brighter, and the air grew heavier with the presence of magic.


    The Dreadmaw n stopped, standing at the mouth of the next chamber, with their eyes scanning the area.


    Volk stood at the front, his gaze fixed ahead, his expression unreadable. He didn''t say anything, but Grounad could sense the tension in the cave''s air.


    This was it.


    The heart of the tunnel.

 Chapter 94: Easy Winged Tiger

    The air was thick with a strange, pulsating energy as Volk and the others reached the heart of the dungeon.


    They stepped into a vast chamber, and at once, the sight before them sent a chill through the group.


    Chack!


    The ce was crawling with unknown magical monsters, each one pulsating with the eerie glow of hazardous magic particles.


    Their forms were grotesque, twisted by the dark magic that flowed through the very air of the dungeon. L


    Some had multiple eyes, others bore grotesque ws, and a few floated eerily as if gravity held no sway over them.


    But in the middle of it all, standing like a dark monarch over this sea of horrors, was a gigantic winged tiger.


    Its fur shimmered with a strange, otherworldly glow, and its wings were ck, stretched wide, casting an ominous shadow over the battlefield.


    Its eyes gleamed with intelligence and malice, its ws tearing into the stone floor as if it were nothing more than paper.


    Grrrrrrrrrr¡­


    For a moment, the Dreadmaw n Orcs and Volk stood still, gazing at the sheer enormity of the growling beast. But what was even more surprising was the reaction of the monsters.


    Normally, the presence of Volk would send them scurrying away in fear.


    His body, contaminated with hazardous magic particlespared to other Labor Orcs, usually acted as a deterrent.


    But now... nothing.


    The monsters weren''t fleeing. They weren''t even bothered by his presence.


    "What the hell is going on?" Grounad muttered, his voice low as his eyes darted across the chamber, filled with beasts.


    Before anyone could answer, the gigantic tiger let out a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the dungeon.


    GRRROOOOOAAAAARRRRRR!!


    The sound reverberated through the stone walls, causing dust to fall from the ceiling. Then, in an instant, the tiger pounced forward, shing into the creatures around it with terrifying ferocity.


    The monsters, to everyone''s shock, started attacking the tiger in return.


    Kabang! Kabang! Kabang!


    The battle that unfolded in front of them was brutal and wild.


    The tiger''s massive ws ripped through the lesser creatures as though they were paper, but the other monsters also retaliated in kind.


    Spells crackled in the air, ws and fangs shed, and the air was filled with the sound of tearing flesh and monstrous roars.


    It was chaos.


    Volk and the Dreadmaw n Orcs watched, frozen.


    Yet he didn''t know why, but something inside his head stirred.


    His muscles tensed as if his body was moving on its own,pelled by some unseen force.


    Before he even realized it, he charged forward, his weapon raised, and joined the fray, fearlessly.


    "LOK''TAR OGAAAAAAARR!!!" he screamed for some unknown reason.


    The moment Volk''s axe struck the first monster, the dungeon exploded with action. His movements were sharp and precise, each swing of his weapon calcted as it cleaved through the flesh of the magical beasts.


    The air around him crackled with the residual magic particles, but Volk didn''t care. He was focused solely on the battle.


    Grounad, Grashk, and the rest of the Dreadmaw n would look at each other but also followed suit.


    Feeling the strange feeling that Volk felt.


    They charged into the horde of monsters, their weapons shing as they fought with the efficiency of battle-hardened warriors.


    "LOK''TAR OGAAAAAAARR!!!"


    They moved in perfect sync, dodging and weaving through the attacks of the monsters with practiced ease.


    Each one of them struck with precision, cutting down the beasts with ruthless efficiency.


    The winged tiger, however, was a different story. It moved with terrifying speed, its ws shing through the air with a strength that sent shockwaves through the ground.


    It let out another deafening roar, with its wings beating fiercely as it leapt into the air, crashing down on a cluster of monsters, crushing them under its massive paws.


    For a moment, Volk found himself face-to-face with the beast.


    Its glowing eyes locked onto his, and he could feel the intensity of its malice. But instead of fear, something inside him stirred¡ªa primal rage.


    "COME OOOO!!!"


    His grip tightened on his axe, and without hesitation, he lunged at the tiger.


    His weapon met the creature''s side, but instead of cleaving through it, his axe bounced off the beast''s hide, sending a shockwave through his arms.


    "Damn it!"


    Volk cursed, staggering back from the force of the recoil.


    The tiger growled, baring its massive fangs, before lunging at him.


    Volk barely had time to dodge as the tiger''s ws shed through the space where he had just been standing.


    He rolled to the side, quickly getting back to his feet, his eyes darting around for an opening.


    "VOLK, WATCH OUT!" Grashk yelled from behind him, his own de sinking into the flesh of another monster. Volk nodded, focusing on the tiger once more.


    The battle raged on, but the tiger''s strength, while formidable, couldn''t match thebined might of the Dreadmaw n.


    Each time the tiger tried to strike, an Orc was there to deflect or evade, their coordination honed by years ofbat.


    They struck at the tiger''s legs, wings, and sides, slowly whittling away at its strength.


    It was a methodical assault, each strike precise and deliberate.


    Though the tiger was powerful, it was no match for the Dreadmaw warriors working in unison. And soon, the beast began to falter.


    With a final, mighty swing, Volk brought his axe down on the tiger''s head.


    KABAG!!


    The creature let out onest roar before copsing to the ground, its massive body thudding heavily against the stone floor.


    The remaining monsters, perhaps emboldened by the tiger''s fall, attempted to attack. But they were weak.


    Wounded and disoriented, the creatures were no match for the Orcs, who dispatched them with ease.


    Breathing heavily,


    Volk stood over the fallen body of the winged tiger, his brow furrowed. He should have felt victorious, but something gnawed at him.


    Something was wrong.


    The entire battle had felt... too easy.


    The others didn''t seem to notice, their faces filled with satisfaction as they wiped the blood from their weapons.


    Grounad approached Volk, shaking his head in amazement. "That was incredible, Volk. I''ve never fought something like that before."


    Volk nodded, his expression distant. "Yeah. But..." He trailed off, his instincts screaming that something wasn''t right. He scanned the chamber, but nothing seemed out of ce.


    The monsters were dead, the tiger defeated, and the crystal they hade for stood undisturbed in the center of the room.


    Yet still, the uneasy feeling in his chest wouldn''t go away. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "It''s nothing."


    Ignoring the pit in his stomach, Volk turned and made his way toward the crystal.


    The Dreadmaw n watched in silence as he approached the glowing stone, its surface shimmering with power.


    Without hesitation, he pulled out a dagger, slicing open his palm. Blood dripped onto the crystal, the dark red liquid seeping into its surface.


    The crystal pulsed for a moment, and then a faint hum filled the air.


    Volk stepped back, his gaze fixed on the crystal.


    For now, it seemed that the danger had passed. But even as he watched the crystal absorb his blood, that feeling of unease remained, lurking at the back of his mind.


    There was something he wasn''t seeing.


    Something still waiting in the shadows.


    What could it be and where would it be?

 Chapter 95: Body Changes

    As Volk stood there, watching thest drop of his blood seep into the glowing crystal, a familiar chime echoed in his mind.


    | Ding!


    The notification was sharp and clear, cutting through the lingering strange heavy atmosphere in the catb.


    | Missionpleted.


    | Reach and drip some blood first on the newly forming crystal deep in the dungeon within thirty minutes.


    | Rewards: The host will always be sent to a dimension near where the Nuclear Reactor Vessel will be sent to.


    | Failure: Death of everyone in the Dreadmaw n, including the host.


    | Status: Completed. |


    Volk blinked, reading the words over again. Immediately, sigh of relief.


    Nuclear Reactor Vessel?


    Solluha''r?


    What the hell did that mean?


    He didn''t know.


    But as long as the reward wasn''t death, he was willing to ept whatever bizarre fate the system had in store for him.


    The alternative was something far worse.


    He shook his head, pushing away the gnawing thoughts.


    Survival was enough for now.


    Suddenly, before he could ponder further, a sharp shockwave erupted from the crystal.


    It rippled through the room, knocking a few of the Orcs off bnce.


    Volk''s body tensed, instinctively stepping back, but the strange force tugged at him.


    He felt... light.


    Too light.


    Like his body was no longer tethered to the ground. His boots no longer felt heavy, his muscles no longer weighed down by the usual burden of battle and fatigue.


    Grashk was the first to notice.


    His eyes widened, his tusks trembling slightly as he pointed across the room.


    "Grok''Thar! What is happening to you?"


    Everyone''s gaze shot to Grok''Thar, who was staring at his hands in confusion and horror.


    His skin¡ªonce a robust, deep green¡ªwas melting.


    Or at least, that''s what it looked like. Green liquid dripped from his arms, pooling around his feet.


    Grok''Thar looked up at Grashk, his eyes wild with panic.


    "I-I don''t know!" Grok''Thar stammered. His voice quivered with terror. "The same thing happening to you, Grashk!"


    Grashk''s head jerked down to look at his own hands.


    His skin, too, was melting¡ªthick, viscous streams of green liquid pouring from his body, forming small puddles beneath him.


    His muscles quivered as if trying to hold together, but the strange fluid kept leaking out.


    Volk felt a deep sense of dread rise in his chest.


    He was breathing heavily, immediately his hand instinctively gripped his weapon.


    Something was very, very wrong.


    This wasn''t just the system anymore¡ªhe could feel that something more sinister was at y.


    He nced around at the others. Grok''Thar.


    Grashk.


    Even Grounad.


    They were all starting to dissolve, the green liquid spreading across the stone floor like some cursed ooze.


    "What... what the hell is going on?" Grok''Thar''s voice was panicked, his eyes darting around as if searching for answers in the chaos. "Why is this happening?"


    One by one, the Dreadmaw n Orcs began to shout in confusion. Their voices ovepped in a cacophony of fear and bewilderment.


    "Why is my skin melting?" one of them shouted, stumbling backward.


    "I can feel it! I can feel my body slipping away!" another screamed, his voice cracking with terror as the green ooze sloughed off his arms.


    Even Grounad, who had always been steady and resilient, was losing hisposure. Explore hidden tales at m,v l''e-NovelBin


    His skin, too, was melting away, leaving streaks of green running down his face and chest.


    He looked to Volk, desperate for some exnation, some reassurance. But Volk had none to give.


    He could only stare in horror as his own body began to feel the strange sensation, as if something were peeling away from him.


    Yet no pain. Just... the eerie lightness.


    For a moment, the tension in the air was unbearable.


    Orcs¡ªproud warriors of the Dreadmaw n¡ªstood frozen, paralyzed by a fear that none of them had ever encountered before.


    The catbs that had moments ago been filled with victorious shouts and the sounds of battle now held nothing but the frantic gasps and whispers of panic.


    Volk''s mind raced. He had fought monsters, faced death countless times, but this¡ªthis was beyond anything he had ever experienced.


    The system''s messages, the strange power of the crystal, the sudden melting... It all felt like some twisted joke, one that was getting out of hand fast.


    Volk finally spoke, his voice cutting through the growing chaos. "Everyone... calm down!" His voice was strained, but it held authority. "We need to figure out what''s happening. Keep your heads together!"


    But the panic in their eyes told him that no words would settle the growing terror.


    It was as if the very core of their being¡ªthe strength that defined them as Orcs¡ªwas slipping away, reced by a sensation of helplessness they had never known.


    Volk nced down at his own body, finally noticing it himself.


    His skin wasn''t green anymore.


    The familiar, deep green hue that had defined him for so long... was gone.


    In its ce, there was a pale, almost ashen color, like life had been drained from him. His limbs, while still functional, moved more fluidly, as if a weight had been lifted.


    The once oppressive heat in the dungeon didn''t bother him, and he realized with a start that he could breathe more easily.


    "What...?" he whispered, shaking his head, trying to make sense of it all. Then louder, he said, "Why is your skin not green anymore?"


    The words echoed through the chamber. The other Orcs¡ªstill dripping with the strange liquid¡ªlooked around at each other.


    Slowly, the realization dawned on them.


    One by one, they lifted their arms, their eyes going wide as they saw their own pale skin, the green tint that had been a symbol of their heritage, their strength, gone.


    "Is this some kind of magic?" Grounad muttered, his voice shaking. "What the hell happened to us?"


    Grashk, his eyes still wide with shock, turned to Volk. "I feel... lighter. I can move faster, but... what does this mean? What have we be?"


    The air was thick with confusion, but in that moment, another chime echoed in Volk''s mind.


    | Ding!


    | The host''s body is now cleansed by an unknown high-level radioactivity.


    | Level too low to be recognized. |


    Volk swallowed hard, his throat dry. Radioactivity?


    His body... had been contaminated all this time?


    He didn''t fully understand it, but the message was clear¡ªsomething had changed.


    Something inside them had been altered in ways they couldn''t yetprehend.


    He clenched his fists, feeling the strength in his arms, but also the strange lightness that permeated his every movement.


    It was disorienting, as if his body wasn''t quite his own anymore.


    The other Orcs looked to Volk, their eyes filled with uncertainty.


    They had followed him into this dungeon, faced the horrors alongside him, and now they were forever changed. But for better or for worse, that was the question that loomed over them all.


    "Volk..." Grounad started, his voice hesitant. "What do we do now?"


    Volk stood silent for a moment.


    Are they marked?


    He felt danger.


    But he knew they couldn''t turn back now.


    Whatever had happened, it was tied to this dungeon, tied to the strange crystals and the system''s mission.


    Finally, Volk looked up, his eyes hardening with resolve. "We stand together," he said firmly.

 Chapter 96: Different Stories

    As the remnants of battle faded from the chamber, Volk''s mind began to churn.


    His thoughts flickered back to Warlock Zenveil, the one he fought with such relentless power.


    There was something Zenveil had said¡ªsomething that gnawed at him even now.


    Slowly, he turned to the Dreadmaw n Orcs, who stood around him, still marveling at their pale, transformed bodies.


    Volk stepped forward, his voice low butmanding. "Pour some water on your bodies."


    The Orcs stared at him in confusion. Grok''Thar furrowed his brow, his tusks twitching as if he hadn''t heard Volk correctly. "Water?"


    Volk nodded once, his eyes steady and unwavering. "Yes, water. Trust me on this."


    There was a hesitant murmur among the Orcs.


    Why would they pour water on themselves now, after everything that had just happened? But Volk''s tone left little room for argument.


    Slowly, a few Orcs unslung their water skins, tipping the cool liquid over their bodies.


    As the water ran down their skin, something strange began to happen.


    The pale hue of their skin shifted.


    Where once the green had been washed away, leaving them almost ghostly in appearance, now the water revealed something else¡ªa clear, light hue, almost luminous, like their bodies were catching the glow of the crystals surrounding them.


    "Vo," Volk muttered under his breath, watching as the transformation unfolded.


    The Orcs gasped.


    Grok''Thar stood stock still, staring at his arms as the light color reced the sickly pallor they had moments ago. "What... what is this?" he stammered, looking around to the others.


    Grashk, who was equally astounded, ran his hand over his arm, feeling the smoothness beneath the water as it revealed the glowing hue beneath. "Volk... what''s happening to us?"


    Volk, wiping the remaining drops from his own skin, shook his head. "I don''t know everything yet. But I remember something Zenveil mentioned before I killed him. Something about the origins of us Orcs."


    This caught their attention.


    They had always known themselves as Orcs, warriors born from the earth, molded by battle and survival.


    The idea of another origin was foreign, unsettling even.


    Volk stepped forward, his gaze piercing as he asked the question that had gued his thoughts since Zenveil''s death. "What is the true origin of us Orcs?"


    The Orcs exchanged uncertain nces. Grok''Thar was the first to respond, his voice deep and gravelly.


    "The elder said we''re Orcs, Volk. Born from the deep earth, like the stones and mountains. We''ve always lived there, hunted by the Dark Elven Witches and the damned Warlocks. But we were strong enough to survive. When the Elven Witches came to help us, we thrived even more and spread."


    Volk raised an eyebrow. "Elven Witches, our partners, right?"


    Grashk nodded vigorously, his massive fists clenching as he spoke.


    "Aye. Out partners. The Elven Witches¡ªnot like the Dark Elven Witches or those damn Red Elven Warlocks. No, these Elven Witches were different. They saved us. They mixed their blood with ours and gave us the strength to grow."


    There was a collective murmur of agreement among the Orcs.


    Their tale of the Elven Witches was well known, passed down through generations.


    They were a symbol of salvation, of hope amidst the constant struggle for survival. But the simplicity of the tale left Volk unsatisfied.


    Volk turned his attention to Grounad, who had remained quiet, a thoughtful look on his face. "And what do you think, Grounad? You have a different story, don''t you?"


    Grounad straightened, crossing his arms over his chest.


    "Aye. There''s another tale back in my Bloodfang n, though it''s not too far from what they said. Long ago, we were hunted by Dark Elven Witches who sought to enve us. But the Elven Witches¡ªthey weren''t just saviors. They were... something more."


    Volk narrowed his eyes. "Go on."


    Grounad sighed, rubbing his chin as he recalled the legend.


    "The Elven Witches came from and beyond the stars. Not just any ordinary Elves, but a race that had fled from something even darker than the Warlocks and their kind.


    "When they found us¡ªOrcs¡ªthey didn''t just mix their blood with ours. They gave us part of their essence, their magic. That''s why we''re so strong, why we''ve always had this connection to the earth and magic. It''s in our blood.


    "But not all of us epted that gift willingly. Some fought against it. They said it made us weaker, that we should''ve stayed pure."


    The Orcs surrounding them murmured in surprise, exchanging curious nces.


    The story was familiar, yet Grounad''s version had ayer of depth they hadn''t heard before.


    The Elven Witches were not just saviors¡ªthey were the key to their strength, to their very existence as a race¡ªthey believed. And not something like Grounad had said.


    Volk''s brow furrowed. "And the Grum-gar form? Where did thate from?"


    At this, both Grounad and several of the Dreadmaw n Orcs straightened, their faces darkening.


    Grashk was the first to speak. "The Grum-gar form came from a different time. It was because we ate the flesh of Ogres. They say the first Orcs to consume an Ogre gained their strength. But it cursed us too. Every time we call on that power, we lose a bit of ourselves to it."


    The others nodded in agreement, recounting the same story that had been told for generations.


    The Grum-gar form was both a gift and a curse¡ªa transformation that allowed them to tap into unimaginable strength, but one that came at a price.


    It had always been a part of their history, something they epted without question.


    But Volk''s eyes narrowed. There was something about all these stories that didn''t sit right with him. "You''re all wrong," he said suddenly, his voice cutting through their conversation.


    The Orcs fell silent, turning to look at him in confusion.


    "What do you mean, Volk?" Grounad asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.


    Volk clenched his fists, his mind racing back to his encounter with Warlock Zenveil.


    "Zenveil told me something before he died. He said that the stories we know about our origins are lies. The Grum-gar form, the Elven Witches... It''s all been twisted."


    The Orcs exchanged uneasy nces.


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    Their entire identity, their heritage, was built on these stories.


    For Volk to say they were wrong was a heavy usation.


    Volk exhaled slowly, his eyes hardening. "Do you want to know the truth? The real truth? The one Zenveil spoke of before I ended his miserable life?"


    There was a moment of silence as the weight of his words settled over them.


    Grounad shifted ufortably, while Grashk and the others looked around, unsure of what to say. But the curiosity in their eyes was undeniable.


    Finally, Grok''Thar spoke up, his voice low and uncertain. "What is the truth, Volk?"


    Volk smirked darkly, his hand tightening around the hilt of his weapon.


    "The truth... is far darker than any of us could imagine." He paused, letting his words sink in.


    "But if you want to know the real origin of the Orcs, I can tell you why the skins we have now were different."


    The Orcs were silent, and one could see their faces were reflecting a mixture of anticipation and fear.


    The stories they had grown up with, the identity they had built their lives around, seemed inconceivable.


    However, they could feel that whatever Volk was about to reveal, it would challenge everything they had ever believed.


    Volk took a deep breath, locking eyes with each of them in turn. "Do you really want to hear it?" he asked, his voice carrying the weight of the unknown.


    The silence in the room was thick with tension, but slowly, one by one, the Orcs nodded.


    Volk''s eyes glinted with grim determination. "Then listen closely."

 Chapter 97: Origin Skin

    Volk stood among the Dreadmaw n Orcs, his voice resonating with an intensity he had just discovered but couldn''t fully grasp yet.


    "This skin," he said, lifting his arm for all to see, "this is the skin of a true Orc."


    The Orcs exchanged stunned nces.


    Their light-colored skin shimmered in the faint glow of the cave, and Volk''s deration sent ripples of shock through the group.


    Grok''Thar was the first to react, his eyes wide. "True Orcs?" he muttered under his breath, trying to wrap his mind around it.


    Grashk, usually stoic, couldn''t hide his amazement. "We came from other dimensions?"


    Volk nodded, his eyes dark and thoughtful.


    "That''s what the Warlocks did. They summoned us from other worlds. But our race was too strong for them. To weaken us, they took our horns¡ªour source of power. Without our horns, we couldn''t awaken our true form. And the proof of that was we are often called the Hornless Orc tribe."


    The Orcs listened, and then their faces changed; their eyes widened, and their mouths opened wide.


    However, immediately, in a split second, it was reced with an expression painted with a mixture of curiosity and anger.


    One of the Orcs, his voice a low growl, asked, "What about the Grum-gar form? What is it really?"


    Volk''s gaze drifted to the ground for a moment, then he continued.


    "The Grum-gar form isn''t what we think it is. It''s a recement. We used to have something called the Diabolical form, but without our horns, we lost it. The Warlocks reced it with the Ogre form."


    At this, several Orcs grunted in frustration. The idea that their form was merely a substitute, an inferior version of something greater, was difficult to stomach.


    Grashk, his brow furrowed, muttered, "They took our horns, took our strength, and left us with this?"


    Volk looked at his hands, flexing his fingers carefully.


    "Maybe this skin... maybe this is how our ancestors looked, before the Warlocks weakened us. Or maybe, after running from the Warlocks and Dark Elves, our ancestors went to hazardous ces, causing our skins to turn to hazardous skins."


    And then, Grashk would add, "and the reason we only survive those ces was because of the Elven Witches? The elves who turned into elves that cannot go or survive in other hazardous ces?"


    Volk would nod.


    There are normal elves here, but there are elven witches too, which are entirely different.


    The difference is that the elves have adapted to the hazardous magic particles of the forest; the more hazardous magic they possess, the stronger they be.


    However, the elven witches are born, but not adapted, to the hazardous magic particles of the forest.


    They are the ones who help the Orcs hide from being hunted, and in exchange, the Orcs work for them until they be one in their way of living.


    Suddenly, a loud chime rang in Volk''s mind.


    | Ding!


    | Mission: Survive the first wave of the beasts.


    | Rewards: Automatic cleansing of the Dreadmaw n.


    | Failure: Hazardous Skin. |


    Volk blinked, the words shing before his eyes.


    Automatic cleansing?


    He had an idea what it meant, like cleaning other Dreadmaw n members, right? But there was no time to think.


    A deafening trumpet roar echoed through the tunnels, sending shivers down the spines of every Orc present.


    AAAAAAANNNNGGGHHHHH!!!


    The ground trembled beneath their feet as the sound grew louder, more menacing.


    STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!


    Grounad''s voice cut through the tension, filled with urgency. "Volk, to fuse with this catb and survive the travel, we need to protect you! We have to fight these beasts¡ªto the death if necessary!"


    Volk, bewildered, could hardly process Grounad''s words before a massive shadow loomed at the entrance of the cave.


    A gigantic magical elephant emerged, its skin crackling with magical energy. Its tusks were razor-sharp, and its eyes burned with an otherworldly glow. This was no ordinary beast.


    Grounad gasped, recognizing it immediately. "That''s a Magruphants! A level five, as strong as one of our peak Mag''Durotan Orcs!"


    The Dreadmaw n braced themselves, weapons ready, but something felt off. The Magruphants were supposed to be nearly unstoppable, yet as it charged, something seemed... different.


    The massive creature charged with a speed they didn''t expect. Its huge feet pounded against the ground, creating tremors that knocked smaller rocks loose from the cave walls.


    "RRROOOOAARRRR!" the elephant bellowed, its sound echoing like a thunderstorm in the enclosed space.


    One of the Orcs, expecting to be thrown back by its sheer momentum, grabbed hold of the creature''s tusk as it sped past.


    The Orc, whose name was Druk''Kar, held tight, and to everyone''s shock, the massive beast came to a stop.


    "What the...?" Druk''Kar gasped, his face contorting in disbelief. "How... how am I going to stop it?"


    The other Orcs, including Volk, stared,pletely dumbfounded.


    "It''s an elephant! It should be stronger than us!" Grashk eximed, stepping forward with wide eyes.


    Volk narrowed his eyes, his mind racing. "Something''s wrong... Handle it alone, Druk''Kar. We need to see how strong our new form is."


    Druk''Kar swallowed nervously but nodded. He took a deep breath, immediately his muscles tensed as he gripped the Mag''Durotan.


    With a sudden burst of strength, he threw the elephant across the cave.


    "RRRRROOOOOAAARRR!" the beast let out another ear-splitting roar, this time in pain as it crashed into the wall with a loud thud.


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    The ground shook as dust and debris rained down from the cave ceiling.


    The other Orcs stood frozen, their mouths agape.


    Volk and the others were speechless.


    How could Druk''Kar have done that?


    He was only third stage Mag''Durotan!


    Third stage!


    How did he throw one of the Magruphant easily when it should beparable to one of them in peak, which is Fifth Mag''Durotan stage!


    "How did he...?" Grashk whispered, staring at the scene in awe.


    Volk, still watching the downed elephant, muttered, "Have we... be stronger?"


    The Magruphant staggered to its feet, shaking off the rubble. Its eyes burned with raging fury, and it let out another roar, preparing to charge again.


    "ROOOOAARR!" it bellowed, louder this time, the rage palpable in its voice.


    But before it could make its move, another Orc, a smaller one named Rak''gor, stepped forward. His eyes burned with determination. "Let me deal with it next."


    Without waiting for a response, Rak''gor charged at the beast.


    Despite his smaller stature, he moved with incredible speed, with his feet barely making a sound against the stone floor.


    The Magruphant trumpeted in anger, but Rak''gor was already on it.


    He leaped into the air, delivering a flurry of strikes to the beast''s neck and chest.


    Each blownded with mean destruction, and the massive elephant staggered under the assault.


    In mere moments, Rak''gor put the beast on the ground, his fists and feet a blur as he relentlessly pummeled the creature. And not long, the elephant let out one final trumpeting wail before copsing in a heap, utterly defeated.


    "RRRRUUUUUHHHHHHHH..." the elephant moaned in its final moments, the sound of its defeat resounded through the whole catbs.


    The Orcs stood in stunned silence, watching the scene unfold.


    Rak''gor, panting but uninjured, stepped back, his fists clenched at his sides.


    "How did you...?" one of the Orcs asked, unable to finish the question.


    Rak''gor shrugged, still catching his breath. "I don''t know... I just felt... stronger."


    Volk exchanged nces with the others, their confusion mirrored in each other''s eyes.


    Whatever had just happened, it was clear that they had changed¡ªbe something more.


    But there was no time to reflect.


    From the dark recesses of the tunnels, a new sound emerged¡ªthe rumbling of footsteps, the roars of unknown magical beasts, growing louder and closer with every passing second as they stood there and wait.


    Grounad, his face pale, turned to Volk. "They''reing..."


    Volk drew his weapon, with his heart pounding.

 Chapter 98: New Orcs

    The ground rumbled beneath their feet as the sound of approaching beasts grew louder.


    Tugudug! Tugudug! Tugudug!


    The tunnel was alive with anticipation, the very walls vibrating with the energy of theing battle.


    The Orcs of the Dreadmaw n, now standing shoulder to shoulder, prepared to meet the onught head-on.


    "READY! DREADMAW CLAN!"


    Their faces were lit with the thrill ofbat, and their eyes burned with intensity.


    Suddenly, as if on cue, the deafening roar of the approaching horde reached them.


    ONGGAAARRRRGGG!! RANGGGAAAANNGRGG!! AAARRNNNGGGHH!!!


    Magical beasts, pulsating with arcane energy, spilled from the shadows of the catb.


    The Dreadmaw n Orcs could see their forms were twisted, monstrous creatures with glowing eyes, sharp ws, and crackling energy flowing through their bodies.


    Some wererge enough to rival the elephants they had fought earlier, while others slithered, their bodies trailing magic like smoke.


    The Orcs raised their weapons in unison, and a single battle cry tore through the air like a thunderp.


    "LOK''TAR OGAAAAAAARR!"


    The cry echoed throughout the cavern, a sound so primal that even the beasts seemed momentarily staggered by the sheer force of it.


    Volk, standing among them, clenched his fists and prepared to leap into the fray. But just as he was about to move forward, Grashk grabbed his arm, his voice urgent.


    "Volk! No! You''re fusing with the catb, remember? You are the target. Just defend yourself if ever some of them pass through. Let us handle this."


    Volk hesitated for a moment, his instincts screaming at him to fight. But then he nodded, stepping back as the other Orcs surged past him, weapons gleaming.


    "Go," Volk muttered, "show them what true Orcs are made of."


    And then, like a flood of fury and muscle, the Dreadmaw n charged forward into the heart of the beast horde.


    Bone clubs nked, and shields smashed as the two forces collided in a symphony of chaos.


    ¡­


    The battle was like nothing Volk had ever seen.


    From his vantage point of the whole center of the catb, he could see everything¡ªthe wild movements of the beasts, the calcted strikes of the Orcs, and the strange, otherworldly glow of the catb''s magic swirling around him.


    At first, the Orcs seemed taken aback by the sheer ferocity of the magical beasts.


    The creatures were relentless, their attacks imbued with chaotic magical energy, beams of arcane light shing through the air.


    Grashk narrowly dodged a strike from one of therger beasts, its talon-like ws crackling with energy as it shed through the air.


    Grok''Thar, locked in a struggle with a beast twice his size, grunted, "These beasts... they''re strong!"


    But as the Orcs began to push back, something unexpected happened. One of the beasts, a wolf-like creature with glowing fur, snapped at Grashk, its jaws crackling with electricity.


    The moment the beast''s teeth made contact, the energy dissipated, as if absorbed into Grashk''s body.


    He stood there, wide-eyed for a moment, and then a slow, confident grin spread across his face.


    "Their magic... it''s useless!" Grashk shouted, his voice booming with excitement.


    The other Orcs, hearing this, began testing the waters.


    More beasts lunged at them with their magical abilities, only to find that their attacks did little more than tickle the hardened Orc skin.


    Orc after Orc shrugged off magic-infused blows, theirughter growing louder with each failed attempt from the beasts.


    One Orc, who had been hit by a bolt of energy that would have incinerated any lesser being, turned to hisrade with a grin. "I barely felt that!"


    Another Orc, who had just cut down a beast with a single swing of his axe, bellowed withughter. "This is amazing! We''re unstoppable!"


    The Dreadmaw n quickly shifted from cautious fighting to full-on exhration.


    Their movements became more fluid, their strikes more precise, as they realized just how resilient they had be.


    What had started as a grueling fight for survival had turned into an all-out ughter, and the Orcs reveled in it.


    Grashk, cleaving through another beast, looked over at Volk and shouted, "They can''t hurt us, Volk! These beasts are nothing!"


    Volk watched, his fists clenched at his sides, the tension within him slowly dissipating as he saw his warriors in action.


    The Orcs fought with such ferocity and joy that it was hard not to feel the same surge of adrenaline.


    For the first time in a long while, Volk allowed himself to smile.


    "Is this the power of the new skin?"


    ¡­


    The Orcs tore through the beast horde like a tidal wave of muscle and steel.


    Each time a beast lunged at them with fangs or ws crackling with energy, it was met with a counter-strike that left it bleeding on the cave floor.


    Axes swung, swords stabbed, and with every downed beast, the Orcs grew more and more confident.


    "Look at that one!" Rak''gor shouted, pointing at a massive bear-like beast that had tried to ambush them from the side.


    "It thought it could sneak up on me! Ha! Foolish creature!" With a mighty swing of his axe, Rak''gor cleaved the beast''s head clean off.


    Grok''Thar, wiping blood from his de, grinned at Grashk. "I never thought fighting could be this fun!"


    Grashk, breathing heavily but still grinning, nodded. "It''s like we''ve been reborn. Stronger, faster... I''ve never felt anything like it."


    One of the smaller Orcs, still catching his breath after ying a beast twice his size, added, "I didn''t even break a sweat! Did you see the way that thing tried to w me? Hah! Weak!"


    The Orcs sharedughter, their voices echoing off the walls of the cave. The tension of the battle was gone, reced with camaraderie and the thrill of victory. They pped each other on the back, recounting their kills with pride.


    "That one tried to bite my arm off!" an Orc said with a chuckle, flexing his arm as if to show how unscathed he was.


    "I saw it! Looked like it was chewing on a rock!" another Orc added, hisughter loud and contagious.


    Even Volk, standing at the back, felt the weight of the situation lift.


    His warriors had not only survived¡ªthey had thrived.


    Whatever had happened to them in the catb, it had made them stronger, more resilient than ever before.


    It wasn''t just about survival anymore. This was a revtion.


    They had been granted new strength, new power, and they were using it to carve a path through their enemies with ease.


    ---


    As thest of the beasts fell to the ground, the Orcs erupted into cheers, their weapons raised high in triumph.


    They gathered together, sharing stories of their exploits with wide grins and heartyughs.


    Rak''gor, his voice booming, shouted, "We''ve be legends this day!"


    "We could fight anything now! Bring us more!" another Orc yelled, pounding his chest with pride.


    "Magical beasts? Bah! They''re nothing to us now!" Grashk dered, his voice full of pride.


    The atmosphere was vibrant, alive with the energy of their victory. The Orcs celebrated openly, their voices filling the cave like a storm.


    But just as the cheering reached its peak, a single voice cut through the noise like a dagger.


    A deep, unfamiliar feminine voice echoed from the shadows, chilling in its calmness. "A new kind of Orcs?"

 Chapter 99: Captured

    Earlier, before all these, the Dreadmaw n had settled into what was supposed to be a period of uneasy waiting.


    Deep within the ancient stone chambers, where the air was thick with dust and the scent of old earth, the older members of the n had gathered together, attempting to maintain a calm front.


    Their mission had been simple: stay hidden, wait for the conflict between the Red Elven Warlocks and the Dark Elven Witches to run its course, and then return home when the skies were clear.


    But the Labor Orc named Volk seemed to have other ns.


    The younger generation of the Dreadmaw n Orcs, restless and itching for action, followed their leader Volk with a mixture of excitement and confusion.


    They sprinted down the winding tunnels, their boots thudding loudly against the stone, trying to keep pace with Volk''s massive strides, leaving their wives behind.


    His body radiated purpose, and his eyes burned with determination. But no one knew where he was leading them.


    "Why are we running?" one of the younger Orcs gasped, his breathing in short, ragged bursts as he struggled to keep up.


    "I thought we were just supposed to wait," another chimed in, his voice tinged with panic. "We were supposed to stay here andy low!"


    Despite the growing uncertainty, they continued to follow Volk deeper into the catbs, moving farther from the safety of the main n gathering.


    The path grew darker, narrower, and more treacherous, as if they were descending into the bowels of the earth itself.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, back at the catb''s main chamber, the remaining Dreadmaw n Orcs and Elves were left with the unsettling realization that their protectors were gone.


    They huddled together in the dim light, exchanging anxious nces.


    The older Orcs, their muscles once bulging with strength but now weakened by years of battle, sat in silence, suppressing their physical energy to conserve it for them to stay in the dungeon.


    Solluha''r, Volk''s elven wife, left behind too, as Volk didn''t ask her toe with him.


    Her pale skin, smooth and silken like moonlight, was in stark contrast to the rough, battle-worn skin of her Orc kin. She had a slender, willowy frame, with silvery green hair cascading down her back like a waterfall.


    Her eyes, deep pools of emerald green, were filled with worry as she watched her husband''s retreating figure.


    "Volk¡­" Solluha''r whispered under her breath. But her voice, fragile like a leaf caught in the wind, was drowned out by the mor of boots and heavy breathing.


    She didn''t understand.


    Why had Volk suddenly led the others away?


    What had changed?


    They were supposed to hide in the catb until the war between the Red Elven Warlocks and the Dark Elven Witches had subsided.


    It was a strategy they had all agreed upon. And yet, Volk had chosen to run, to take the younger members of the n with him, leaving the older and weaker Orcs, as well as the Elven allies, behind.


    Confusion swirled in her mind, but she pushed it aside.


    Her loyalty to Volk, to the Dreadmaw n, outweighed her doubts.


    She tightened her grip on the short sword at her side and pressed forward.


    The Elves tried to focus on defensive spells to reinforce their surroundings to protect themselves from the beasts.


    "Do you think they''lle back?" one of the Elves asked, her voice shaky.


    "They have to," another replied. "My husband says he believes in Volk."


    But as the words left her lips, a strange tremor rippled through the ground beneath their feet.


    The walls of the catb groaned as if the very stones were waking from an ancient slumber. The air turned cold, and an oppressive darkness crept into the chamber, heavy and suffocating.


    Solluha''r had barely made it back to the main chamber when she felt it¡ªa pulse of magic, dark and malevolent, like a storm brewing on the horizon. She halted in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat.


    "Something''sing," one of the older Orcs muttered, his eyes narrowing as he peered into the shadows that now engulfed the room.


    Then, without warning, a figure emerged from the ckness.


    It was a woman, or at least the shape of one. Her body was wrapped in a cloak of shadows, and she rode upon a massive creature whose form was impossible to discern in the dim light.


    Its eyes, glowing crimson, burned like the fires of the underworld, and its growls reverberated through the catb, causing even the bravest Orcs to flinch.


    The figure raised a hand, and her voice rang out, cold and sharp as the edge of a de. "Capture them."


    The moment the words left her lips, more shadows began to seep from the ground.


    They writhed and twisted, taking on the form of dark figures¡ªwarriors of shadow, their weapons gleaming with ethereal energy.


    The older Dreadmaw Orcs and Elves sprang to their feet, weapons drawn, ready to defend their n.


    Sohha''r stood at the forefront, her heart racing.


    She drew her sword, her knuckles white with the force of her grip. Her mind was focused on the safety of her people, but something dread crept into her soul.


    Volk¡­ where are you?


    Before anyone could react, the shadow warriors lunged forward.


    The sh of steel rang out through the chamber as Orcs and Elves alike fought back with every ounce of strength they had left. But they were no match for the creatures of darkness.


    The shadow warriors moved with unnatural speed and grace, their forms shifting and flowing like water, making them nearly impossible to strike.


    One by one, the Dreadmaw n fell, their weapons slipping from their hands as the shadow warriors overwhelmed them. And as each one fell, a dark mark, a tattoo of swirling ck ink, appeared on their skin.


    The magic that bound them was ancient and powerful, a curse that sapped their strength and left them helpless.


    Sohha''r fought with everything she had, her de cutting through the air with precision, but even she could not withstand the onught for long.


    The shadow warriors surrounded her, their glowing red eyes fixed on her as they moved in for the kill.


    Just as she thought all hope was lost, she felt a pulse of magic¡ªstrong and familiar.


    Volk.


    He was still out there, still fighting.


    As the shadow warriors closed in, Solluha''r dropped to her knees and sped her hands together, her voice barely above a whisper. She prayed, not to any gods, but to Volk.


    "Where are you, Volk?" she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. "Please¡­e back to us."


    The shadows loomed closer, and just before they struck, Solluha''r felt a surge of warmth deep within her chest.


    It was faint, but it was there¡ªa connection to Volk, a bond that had not been severed despite the distance between them. It gave her hope, even as the darkness swallowed her whole.


    ---


    Far away, deep in the twisting corridors of the catb, Volk felt it too.


    The tug on his soul, the faint whisper of his wife''s voice in his mind.


    He didn''t know what had happened back in the main chamber, but he knew one thing for certain: his n needed him.


    His eyes narrowed, and he gripped his axe tighter.


    There was no turning back now.


    He still have a mission to do or the Dreadmaw n would be turn into pieces.

 Chapter 100: Dark Elven Witch

    Now, in the present, Volk stood frozen in his spot.


    However, his eyes narrowed intently as he scanned the shadows for the source of the voice.


    It was feminine, smooth and sounded like there was a tone of mocking in it, yet with an underlying tone of authority that made the hairs on his neck stand up wasbined with it too. Discover stories with m,v l''e-NovelBin


    He turned, immediately, his body tensed, and his gaze settled on a figure emerging from the darkness.


    She was tall and slender, her skin a deep, dusky hue that seemed to drink in the dim light of the catb.


    Her eyes gleamed with an eerie glow, a cold and calcting intelligence dancing in their depths. Her hair, long and as dark as midnight, cascaded down her back, interwoven with silver strands that shimmered like stars caught in the night sky.


    She wore a flowing, obsidian cloak that seemed to ripple like living shadows, and beneath it, her armor clung tightly to her lithe frame, forged from some strange, dark metal that seemed to hum withtent magic.


    But what stood out most was the massive ck wolf beneath her, with its eyes glowing dangerously with the same eerie light as its rider''s.


    Its fur was as dark as coal, rippling with muscle and power, and each slow step it took sends a low, ominous rumble through the ground that could be felt in the whole catb.


    The beast''s fangs gleamed menacingly, long and sharp, ready to tear through flesh.


    The woman gazed at them with an almost detached curiosity, as though they were nothing more than an amusing distraction.


    "What kind of Orcs are you?" she asked, with a soft and calm, dangerous purr.


    "Why are your colors different? I''ve never seen a color like yours. I''ve seen green, red, yellow, brown, etc., depending on the radioactive ces or habitats they are hiding in. But I''ve never seen anyone like yours?"


    Volk said nothing, his instincts screaming at him that something was very wrong. He kept his eyes locked on her, the grip on his axe tightening.


    Before he could respond, a movement stirred behind the woman.


    A group of Orcs and Elves emerged from the shadows, their bodies adorned with intricate tattoos that glowed faintly in the darkness.


    The designs twisted and coiled around their arms and faces, pulsing in time with the magic in the air.


    Their expressions were stern, their postures protective as they nked the woman on both sides.


    Volk''s breath caught in his throat.


    The tattoos... he recognized them


    Not just the tattoos, but the Orcs and Elves too.


    They looked very familiar.


    However, the shock didn''te from the glowing ink alone. It was the faces.


    The Orcs and Elves clothings¡­


    The clothes¡­ far too familiar.


    Grounad, standing next to Volk, gasped, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You..."


    Volk turned to Grounad, his brow furrowing. "What''s wrong?"


    Grounad''s voice was low, shaky. "They... they''re from Bloodfang n, the same Bloodfang n I came from."


    Volk blinked, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "What?"


    Grounad swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the Orcs and Elves standing beside the woman. "That''s Grommash," he said, nodding toward a hulking Orc with deep scars running across his chest. "And that one is Murok." He pointed to another Orc, smaller but with a vicious gleam in his eye. "These... these were once our brothers."


    Volk''s jaw clenched, a knot of dread forming in his gut. "The Bloodfang n? But they were¡ª"


    "Dead," Grounad finished, his voice grim. "Or so we thought. But no, now I could see that they... they''ve joined her." His eyes flicked to the woman on the wolf. "A Dark Elven Witch."


    Volk''s heart skipped a beat. "What?"


    Grounad''s face was pale, his voice barely above a whisper.


    "She... she''s one of the Dark Elven Witches. They don''t have horns like the other normal dark elves but they are far more dangerous to the point that they erased all the dark elves. They are the ones who... enve others too."


    The woman''s lips curled into a small smile, as if pleased by their recognition. "Right," she said, her voice carrying a chilling authority. "But still, I ask again, what kind of Orcs are you? Your skin... your strength. It''s different."


    Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she examined them, her gaze lingering on Volk, studying him as if he were a puzzle she was eager to solve.


    Before Volk could respond, one of the Orcs standing beside her, a towering brute with a vicious snarl, spoke up.


    "They are the Dreadmaw n," he said, his voice rough and filled with disdain. He pointed at Grounad, his sneer widening. "And he... he''s from the Bloodfang n too. A traitor. He abandoned us to join them."


    The woman''s eyebrows lifted in surprise, her smile widening. "Dreadmaw n, you say? I thought I had already... tamed them."


    The Orc beside her nodded. "They were in the back, following. They are the weakest of the Hornless Orcs tribe, mydy."


    The woman tilted her head slightly, her eyes never leaving Volk. "Weakest, you say?"


    The Orc turned toward her, bowing slightly. "Should I fetch them for the master, mydy?"


    The respect in his voice was palpable, as though he wouldy down his life for her without hesitation.


    Every movement, every word from the Orcs and Elves around her radiated loyalty and devotion.


    Volk notices their movements and as they stare at her, like shadow ves, they are silent but the same time they are watchful too, ready to act on hermand.


    The woman''s smile grew, her eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement. "No need." Then she continued, "Why are their skins not green like the others?"


    The Orc lowered his head respectfully and said, "I''m afraid I don''t have any idea, mydy¡­"


    The dark elven witch, still smiling, suddenly paused, and her smile faded as she looked at the Orc and asked, "You don''t know?"


    The Orc, clearly perspiring, nodded hesitantly. But then, immediately, his head fell to the ground with a thud, followed by his muscr body.


    Kabang!


    Suddenly, the dark elven witch ordered the others behind her, saying, "Get them!" She added, "Just... beat them down. Weaken them." Her voice was casual and dismissive. "Once they''ve been softened up, I can tame them myself."


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest as his mind began to ran a speed of thoughts. He couldn''t allow this. He couldn''t let her take them.


    As she finished speaking, she turned her gaze away for just a moment, her focus shifting to the Orcs behind her, clearly expecting them to obey.


    It was that moment that Volk seized.


    Without a second thought, his hand shot out, gripping the handle of his axe. He swung with all his might, hurling it through the air toward the woman, the de spinning end over end, a blur of deadly steel.


    For a split second, time seemed to slow. The woman''s eyes widened, with her mouth opening in surprise.


    The Orcs and Elves around her tensed, some reaching for their weapons, others gasping in shock.


    The axe hurtled through the air, its deadly arc aimed straight at her chest.


    And then¡ª

 Chapter 101: One Sided beatdown

    Volk''s axe sailed through the air with deadly precision, spinning toward the Dark Elven Witch as if it were a force of nature. But just as the de was about to meet its target, something unnatural happened.


    Washileak!


    A thick, gnarled branch¡ªck as midnight¡ªshot out from the ground and wrapped itself around the handle, halting the axe mid-flight.


    Grooaakk!


    The wood groaned, cracking under the sudden weight of Volk''s swing, but held firm.


    Volk''s eyes widened in surprise, but the moment of hesitation didn''tst long.


    With a growl that echoed through the catbs, "AARRRGGGHH!!" he shot forward, his massive frame blurring with the speed of his movement.


    His hands gripped the handle of his axe again, and with a single powerful yank, he ripped it free from the grasp of the ck branch, snapping it in half as if it were nothing but a twig.


    Without missing a beat, Volk brought the axe down toward the Dark Elven Witch, aiming for her head.


    BANG!


    The force of the blow was enough to crack stone, but just as the de was about to connect with her, it stopped.


    An invisible forcefield, shimmering faintly in the air, held the axe mere inches from her face.


    CLAAAASSSSSKK!!


    "Huh?" Volk grunted, his brow furrowing in confusion.


    The Dark Elven Witch smiled, a smug, condescending grin that made Volk''s blood boil. But Volk wasn''t done yet. His new skin, his newfound strength¡ªit all surged through him in that moment, pushing him beyond his limits.


    With a roar of fury, "RAAAAAAGGHHH!!" he mmed the axe down again, this time with all the power his body could muster.


    Crack!


    The forcefield shattered like ss, and though the axe never touched the witch, the sheer power behind it alone sent her flying backward.


    She crashed into the stone wall of the catb with a deafening BANG, a cloud of dust and debris rising around her.


    Her wolf, left alone as its rider was thrown, snarled viciously, its glowing eyes fixed on Volk.


    Volknded on the ground with a thud, his boots sending up small clouds of dirt.


    He stood tall, his chest heaving, and righteously raised his axe high above his head.


    The battle cry that followed shook the very walls of the cavern.


    "LOK''TAR OGAAAAAAARR!!!"


    The Dreadmaw n Orcs, who had been momentarily stunned by the sight of their leader hurling a Dark Elven Witch across the catb, snapped out of their stupor.


    One by one, they raised their weapons high, with their voices joining Volk''s in a thunderous chorus.


    "LOK''TAR OGAAAAAAARR!!!"


    The ck wolf, seeing its chance, lunged at Volk, its teeth bared and ws outstretched. But Volk had already seen iting.


    With a deft sidestep, he evaded the beast''s charge and, using the wolf''s own momentum against it, grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and hurled it to the side.


    Kabam!


    The wolf mmed into a nearby rock formation with a yelp, shaking the stones loose.


    Before Volk could catch his breath, the tattooed Orcs and Elves that nked the Dark Elven Witch sprang into action.


    The Orcs charged, their fists and weapons raised, while the Elves hung back, weaving intricate spells in the air, their hands glowing with arcane energy.


    The first tattooed Orc came at Volk with a massive war hammer, swinging it down toward his head.


    Volk parried the blow with his axe, the sh of metal against metal ringing through the chamber.


    KACHANG!!


    The force of the impact would have crushed any normal Orc''s arm, but Volk felt nothing more than a slight twinge in his muscles.


    His new skin¡ªthe strange, almost otherworldly hue¡ªhad made him stronger, tougher. He grinned as he pushed back against the Orc, sending him stumbling backward.


    Another Orc, this one smaller but quicker, darted in from the side, a wickedly sharp dagger aimed at Volk''s ribs.


    Volk barely had time to react, twisting his body at thest second to avoid the strike.


    The de nced off his skin, leaving only a shallow scratch where it should have pierced deep.


    Volk swung his axe in retaliation, catching the Orc in the chest and sending him crashing to the ground with a pained grunt.


    GUSSSHH!!


    Meanwhile, the Elves wereunching their magical assaults.


    Bolts of fiery energy and tendrils of shadow shot toward the Dreadmaw n Orcs, each spell designed to break their defenses. But to the shock of the Elves, the Orcs didn''t fall.


    Their new skin, resistant to magic in ways they had never experienced before, shrugged off the worst of the attacks.


    What would have once seared flesh now left nothing more than a stinging sensation.


    Grashk was the first tough, his voice booming as he deflected a bolt of lightning with his shield.


    "Their magic''s useless! Come on,ds! Show these weaklings what true Orc strength looks like!"


    The Dreadmaw n Orcs roared in response, charging forward with renewed vigor.


    The battle became a brutal melee, axes shing with swords, fists meeting flesh, and the sounds ofbat filling the air.


    Volk fought at the front, his axe cleaving through the tattooed Orcs with savage precision.


    Every swing was filled with the weight of his new power, each blow knocking his enemies back like ragdolls.


    One of the tattooed Elves, desperate to turn the tide, conjured a massive fireball and hurled it toward Volk.


    The searing heat of the spell lit up the cavern, and for a moment, it seemed like nothing could stop it. But Volk didn''t flinch.


    As the fireball neared, he swung his axe in a wide arc, cutting through the magical mes as if they were nothing but smoke.


    The spell dissipated, leaving the Elf wide-eyed and defenseless.


    Volk didn''t give her a second chance¡ªhis axe cut through the Elf''s chest, sending her sprawling to the ground.


    All around Volk, the Dreadmaw n Orcs were overpowering their foes.


    Grashk had taken on two tattooed Orcs at once, his massive fists smashing into their faces with bone-crunching force.


    Grounad, who had been hesitant at first, now fought with a savage intensity, his de cutting down a group of Elves who had tried to surround him.


    The battle raged on, but it was clear that the Dreadmaw n had the upper hand.


    Their new strength, their resistance to magic¡ªit had turned the tide in their favor. And as they fought, they reveled in the newfound power coursing through their veins.


    "Did you see that?" one Orc shouted as he smashed an Elf to the ground. "I took three of them at once!"


    "Ha! I felt nothing from their magic!" another bellowed, swinging his club at a tattooed Orc''s head. "It''s like we''ve been reborn!"


    The Orcsughed and shouted, their voices filled with pride and excitement as they cut down their enemies.


    The ughter was intense, but it was also joyous.


    The Dreadmaw n had never felt stronger, more invincible.


    They were unstoppable.


    But just as thest of the tattooed Orcs and Elves fell to the ground, with their blood staining the stone floor, the vibrant atmosphere was shattered.


    A cold, eerie silence fell over the cavern, and Volk turned his head, his instincts screaming that something was wrong.


    Stay connected through m-v l|e''-NovelBin


    The Dark Elven Witch stood up slowly, her body bruised but very much alive.


    Her wolf, limping but still fierce, growled beside her.


    Her eyes, wide with shock, were fixed on Volk and his Orcs.


    "What... What kind of Orcs are you all?" she whispered, her voice filled with disbelief.

 Chapter 102: Declaration

    Meanwhile, back in the chaos of the present, the tension in the air thickened as the Dark Elven Witch''s curiosity grew into something more sinister.


    Her eyes, cold and calcting, roamed over the Dreadmaw n Orcs, now standing defiantly before her, their new strengths barely contained beneath their hardened new skins.


    Volk could feel her magic stirring, the gathering of power in the space between them. And then¡ªthere, he saw it¡ªa faint glow in her hands, forming ominous magic circles, pulsing with dark energy.


    "Watch out!"


    Volk roared, his voice carrying across the battlefield with desperation, but the warning came toote.


    Without warning, the ground beneath them trembled violently, cracking open as thick, ck roots erupted from the earth like serpents.


    Kragam!


    They shot upward with terrifying speed, twisting and writhing as they sought to ensnare the Orcs.


    Kwishick! Kwischick!


    The roots move with purpose to swallow them, reaching out like the ws of some vengeful beast, trying to drown them in a tide of nature''s wrath.


    Volk moved swiftly, his massive axe cutting through the air with a sharp whoosh!


    He swung it in a powerful arc, cleaving through the roots in one clean strike.


    Thwack!


    The severed roots writhed and shriveled away, but no sooner had they fallen than more erupted from the ground, thicker and more aggressive.


    The other Dreadmaw n Orcs were quick to follow Volk''s lead.


    Their weapons¡ªswords, clubs, axes¡ªshed in the dim light, each swing met with the snap and crack of the invading roots.


    Yet for every root they destroyed, twice as many would rece it, surging forth like an unrelenting tidal wave.


    "Hold fast!" Grashk shouted as he smashed his warhammer into the earth, breaking the roots beneath his feet. "Don''t let them trap you!"


    Despite the relentless assault, Volk noticed something in the witch''s expression¡ªa flicker of surprise, as if she hadn''t anticipated the Orcs'' resilience.


    Her dark lips twisted into a smirk, though there was a glint of confusion in her eyes.


    ''These Orcs¡­ they''re stronger than they should be,'' she mumbled.


    The thought crossed her mind as she watched them fend off her magic with increasing ferocity.


    Normally, her roots would overwhelm her enemies¡ªlike these hornless Orcs within moments, but here they were¡ªOrcs¡ªshing and hacking their way through her most potent spells.


    Volk''s muscles strained as he fought back the roots, his chest heaving with every swing.


    His new skin, thick and pulsing with power, gave him strength he had never known before. He could feel it in his bones¡ªthe legacy of something ancient, something primal.


    This was not just a fight for survival; this was a revtion.


    "Why won''t you just stay down!" the witch hissed through gritted teeth, her voiceced with frustration.


    She raised her hands again, and this time, the roots responded with even greater intensity, snaking their way toward the Orcs'' legs, trying to pull them to the ground.


    "Gah!" one of the Dreadmaw Orcs, Thrak, grunted as a root coiled around his ankle, yanking him down with such force that he nearly lost his bnce. But he quickly regained his footing, shing the root away with his jagged de.


    "No matter how many roots you summon, we''ll cut them all down!"


    Volk growled, his eyes zing with fury as he mmed his axe into the ground, severing a particrly thick root that had shot toward him.


    The Dark Elven Witch''s eyes widened ever so slightly.


    This was not how things were supposed to go. These Orcs¡ªthey weren''t like the ones she had encountered before.


    The ones she controlled were brute force and rage, yes, but these¡­


    These were something different.


    Could it be? The Dark Elven Witch flinched.


    These Orcs had evolved¡ªchanged, somehow¡ªand their strength had increased tenfold.


    She narrowed her eyes, her expression darkening. "What kind of Orcs are you?" she muttered under her breath.


    Then, louder, her voice rising with fury and intrigue, "What kind of Orcs are you?!" She took a step forward, with her magic ring around her like a shroud of darkness.


    The Orcs didn''t answer her.


    They were too busy fighting for their lives, breaking free from the ck roots that continued to spawn from the ground. But Volk, amidst the chaos, met her gaze with a look of pure defiance.


    "What are you?" she repeated, but this time, her voice held a note of amusement, as if she hade to enjoy this unexpected turn of events.


    She flexed her fingers, and the magic circle around her hands glowed brighter, crackling with dark energy.


    Volk, sensing the danger, prepared himself for another wave of attacks, but before he could react, the Dark Elven Witch began to speak. Her voice rose, filled with venom and a twisted kind of glee.


    "I am Urza''lin of the Dark Elven Witches!" she dered, her voice echoing off the walls of the catb.


    "My mission was simple: capture all the Elves and Orcs hiding in these pathetic tunnels, and then drag your worthless hides outside to serve as my pawns in the war against the Red Elven Warlocks!"


    Her voice grew louder, more intense with every word, filling the chamber with her presence.


    "But what do I find instead? Something far more interesting¡ªa new kind of Orc! Orcs with power I have never seen before! You were not part of the n, but now that you''re here, I will capture all of you and make you my soldiers, whether you like it or not!"


    Her words were punctuated by a surge of magic.


    The roots swelled again, this time spiraling upward like a massive wave ready to crash down upon the Dreadmaw n Orcs.


    The Orcs braced themselves for the next assault, their weapons at the ready, but something shifted in Urza''lin''s expression. Her eyes flicked downward, and she suddenly noticed something peculiar.


    The Orcs she had been controlling¡ªthose marked by her tattoosy scattered on the ground, defeated but alive.


    The Dreadmaw n had fought them, but they hadn''t killed them.


    "Hmph." Urza''lin tilted her head slightly, a curious smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You didn''t kill them," she murmured to herself. "Why? Are you holding back? Or are you simply foolish?"


    After a careful observation, she nodded, ''They only made them unconscious so they won''t turn into Grum-gar form?''


    Her eyes glittered with a dangerous idea. She raised a hand, her fingertips glowing with dark magic. "Should I activate their Grum-gar form and watch them tear you all apart instead?" she mused, her voice barely more than a whisper.


    But then she shook her head, dismissing the thought. "No¡­ no, not yet. I''ll save that forter, when I face the Warlocks. It will be much more entertaining then."


    Despite her amusement, she could feel a frustration.


    She had no immediate way to capture these new Orcs¡ªnot while they were in such a heightened state of power. But then, her eyes lit up as another idea struck her.


    Suddenly, she turned, her gaze locking onto a group of Orcs emerging from the shadows behind her.


    These were the Dreadmaw n Orcs.


    These were tattooed, their bodies marked with dark runes, their skin gleaming with the same sickly glow as her magic.


    Urza''lin smiled, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Ah¡­ it seems I won''t need to rely on those roots after all."


    Volk and the others looked on in confusion as the tattooed Orcs moved into formation behind the Dark Elven Witch, their expressions nk, their bodies stiff with the rigid control of her magic.


    They were eerily silent, save for the faint hum of dark energy radiating from their tattoos.


    Urza''lin''s voice cut through the tension like a de. "I''ll use your own n against you instead!"


    And with that, the air around them seemed to grow even colder, as the tattooed Orcs prepared to strike.

 Chapter 103: Crystal Shockwave

    Volk''s axe swung through the air, slicing cleanly through the writhing ck roots that erupted from the ground like dark serpents.


    "Ha!" "Ha!" "Ha!"


    His muscles strained, sweat beading on his brow as he hacked and shed with relentless fury.


    The battlefield was a chaos of tangled roots, Orcs shouting battle cries, and magic crackling in the air like static electricity.


    "Haaaaaa!!"


    His heart pounded in his chest, but his mind was sharp, his focus singr.


    Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw them¡ªfamiliar figures emerging from the shadows of the catb entrance. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he faltered.


    The axe hung mid-swing, his arms frozen as recognition struck him like a hammer to the chest.


    The Dreadmaw n.


    The ones he had left behind at the entrance before taking on his mission of the system. And among them, his wife¡ªSolluha''r, the Elven Witch.


    Her pale skin glowed softly in the dim light, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance.


    Beside her, other Elven witches stood, their gazes darting around the battlefield in disbelief.


    "Solluha''r¡­" Volk muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on his axe. His heart twisted, a sudden wave of emotion threatening to overpower him.


    Why are they here? he thought, panic creeping into his mind.


    They were supposed to stay safe.


    Away from all of this.


    Suddenly, Urza''lin''s voice cut through the noise, sharp andmanding. "Who are the husbands or partners of these Orcs?" she asked, her toneced with curiosity and mockery. "Or are they even truly part of the Dreadmaw n?"


    The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, no one moved.


    Then, slowly, Solluha''r stepped forward. Her face was pale, but there was a determined set to her jaw.


    She walked with grace, despite the weight of fear that Volk could see in her eyes, she was obeying the Dark Elf for some unknown reason.


    Behind her, Mishina, the wife of Grounad, followed suit, along with several other Elf witches who had been with the Dreadmaw n for years.


    They stood before Urza''lin, their heads held high, though their bodies trembled with the weight of the moment. Continue your adventure at m|v-l''e -NovelBin


    Urza''lin''s smile widened, her dark eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "And who are your husbands among them?" she asked, her voice dripping with curiosity.


    For a brief, agonizing moment, there was silence. Then, as if summoned by some invisible force, Solluha''r and the other Elves turned and pointed directly at Volk and the Orcs behind him.


    Urza''lin''sughter filled the cavern, echoing off the walls like the cawing of some great, malevolent bird. "Is that so?" she chuckled, her voice filled with mock surprise.


    "How delightful. And tell me, why is it that their skin¡­" She paused, her eyes narrowing as she gestured toward Volk and the other Orcs.


    "¡­is it so different from the rest of the Dreadmaw n? Why do they look nothing like the Orcs I''ve seen in other ns?"


    Solluha''r hesitated, her eyes flicking nervously to Volk. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice came out as little more than a whisper. "I¡­ I don''t know, Master Urza''lin."


    Urza''lin''s expression darkened at that, her amusement fading into annoyance. Her lips curled into a snarl, and for a moment, Volk felt his blood run cold.


    Was she going to kill Solluha''r?


    Would she punish her for not knowing the reason why the skin looked like this?


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest, panic rising like bile in his throat. His grip tightened on the axe, his knuckles white. No¡­ no, she can''t. I won''t let her!


    But then, to Volk''s surprise, Urza''lin''s face softened. She let out a sharp, humorlessugh.


    "So be it," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "It doesn''t matter." Her eyes flicked back to Volk and the other Orcs, and her smile returned, cold and calcting. "But tell me this," she said, her voice growing sharper.


    "Why do you Orcs and Elf witches fear Dark Elves witch like me? You cower before me, and yet here you stand, defiant. Why?"


    Volk didn''t answer.


    He couldn''t.


    He didn''t trust himself to speak, not when his mind was consumed by thoughts of Solluha''r.


    His hands moved on instinct, his axe swinging through the air as he continued to sh at the roots trying to entangle them. But his eyes¡­ his eyes never left Urza''lin.


    He could feel her gaze burning into him, waiting for a response. Yet he refused to give her the satisfaction.


    Urza''lin''s expression twisted with irritation.


    She was used to having power over others, to being the one in control, and Volk''s defiance grated on her like sand in an open wound.


    She watched him, her dark magic still swirling in the air around her, and she seethed at his refusal to acknowledge her.


    "Answer me!" she snapped, her voice echoing with fury. "Why do you resist? Why do you not fear me?"


    Still, Volk remained silent, his focus unwavering as he cleaved through another wave of roots.


    Suddenly, he would freeze.


    His eyes widened in surprise.


    The other Orcs around him did the same, their attention entirely on surviving the relentless onught.


    Urza''lin''s face contorted in rage. Her hands shot up, fingers cracking with dark energy, and the roots suddenly stopped moving, as if frozen in time.


    The battlefield went eerily quiet, save for the sound ofbored breathing from both sides.


    Volk''s muscles tensed as the roots fell away, retreating back into the earth.


    For a brief moment, the Dreadmaw n stood in ce, their weapons at the ready, eyes narrowed in suspicion.


    Urza''lin hadn''t stopped her attack out of mercy.


    No, there was something more at y here.


    As the silence stretched, Volk found himself standing still, his breathing in slow, controlled waves. His heart pounded, but outwardly, he remained calm.


    Beside him, the other Orcs mirrored his stance, their faces impassive, unbothered.


    They were not afraid.


    Not anymore.


    In Volk''s mind, however, there was only one thought: I don''t need to answer her questions. I don''t need to understand her. Because her life¡­ her life will end here.


    The thought filled him with grim determination, his body tensing with the anticipation of battle.


    He was ready.


    Ready to bring down his axe with the force of a storm, to shatter whatever defenses she conjured, and to bring an end to this nightmare.


    And then, as if in response to his thoughts, something strange began to happen.


    Behind him, the crystal that had been pulsating faintly in the background suddenly red to life.


    A low hum filled the air, growing louder with each passing second, until the ground beneath them began to tremble.


    Urza''lin''s gaze snapped to the crystal, her eyes widening in shock and confusion. "What¡­?"


    Volk''s breath caught in his throat as a massive shockwave erupted from the crystal, a pulse of pure energy radiating outward like the detonation of a bomb.


    BOOM!


    The entire cavern shook with the force of the explosion, and everything was thrown into chaos once more.


    However, the shockwave did nothing.


    But Volk wouldn''t let this opportunity go! He immediately charged straight at the Dark Elf, disappearing in front of her and reappearing behind her.

 Chapter 104: Not working

    Volk''s grip tightened on the Axe of Dissection, his breathing steady, with his muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike.


    The dark glint of Urza''lin''s eyes had faded, reced with raw fear as she realized her imminent doom.


    The Dark Elven Witch stood frozen, her lips parted in shock as Volk loomed over her, his axe poised to decapitate her in one clean, brutal stroke.


    But then, a desperate voice cut through the tension.


    "Wait, Volk! DON''T KILL HER!" Grounad''s voice rang out, filled with urgency and panic. "If you do, everyone under her will be killed too!"


    Volk''s body froze, the de of his axe hovering just inches above Urza''lin''s slender neck.


    His chest heaved with exertion, and for a split second, his thoughts warred between revenge and reason.


    Urza''lin, still cowering, blinked rapidly, her confusion mirrored by the Orcs behind Volk.


    Urza''lin slowly began to understand the situation.


    Her breathing was heavy, and her pale face contorted in shock.


    She had been so sure of her superiority, so confident in her control. But now? The tides had turned, and she was staring death in the face. "What¡­what are you doing?" she stammered, her voiceced with both fear and confusion.


    Volk''s gaze flickered to Grounad, confusion furrowing his brow. "Why?" he growled, his voice a low rumble. "Why shouldn''t I end her now?"


    Before Grounad could respond, Urza''lin, sensing her chance, began speaking rapidly, her tone shifting to one of a cruel confidence, though her body still trembled with fear. "Ah, of course, you don''t understand¡­ that''s why you fear us," she sneered.


    "The Dark Elven Witches. We are far superior to the likes of you, strange Orc!" Her voice grew louder, more taunting. "You think you can just kill me and be done? You''re mistaken, Orc!"


    She raised her head, a dark grin spreading across her face as she realized she had an opportunity to turn this moment in her favor.


    "We Dark Elven Witches are not like the lower-level witches you''re ustomed to. We are bound to those we control. If I die, every single one of the Orcs and Elves Imand will die with me! You''ll be signing the death warrant of your entire n. Your wives, yourrades¡ªthey will fall, one by one, their lives forfeit the moment my life ends."


    Volk''s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing.


    He didn''t flinch under her words, though they hit him like a punch to the gut.


    Solluha''r¡­ his people.


    He couldn''t risk their lives.


    Urza''lin, seeing the hesitation in Volk''s face, pressed her advantage.


    "You don''t have a choice, Orc. Surrender now, or see your loved ones perish. My power is absolute! The Dreadmaw n, the Elves, everyone here¡ªthey are nothing but my ves. They were born to serve me, to follow my everymand. You are no different."


    Her voice grew more venomous as she continued.


    "Look at you. Strong, yes. Defiant, yes. But that won''t change your fate. You will be enved, like the rest. You think yourself powerful with that axe and strange skin?


    However, you cannot defy my magic. I will make you kneel before me, strange Orc!"


    Volk''s face remained impassive, though his heart was pumping blood so fast.


    He turned toward Grounad, his voice tight.


    "What do we do?" He could hear Urza''lin''s taunts, but he refused to let them break him. His thoughts were on Solluha''r, on his people¡ªhe couldn''t fail them.


    Grounad''s face was pale, his eyes wide with terror. "You¡­ you can''t kill her. But if you knock her unconscious, the bond should weaken enough for us to escape her control."


    Volk grunted in acknowledgment.


    He lifted the Axe of Dissection, adjusting his grip on the handle.


    The killing edge gleamed in the low light, but he flipped it in his hands, preparing to strike Urza''lin with the blunt side.


    One well-ced blow to the head, and she''d be out cold.


    But as he prepared to strike, a blur of movement caught his attention.


    The massive ck wolf that had been standing guard at Urza''lin''s side lunged at him with terrifying speed, its jaws snapping shut around Volk''s arm with the force of a vice.


    Volk snarled in pain, trying to shake the creature off, but the wolf''s grip was unrelenting. Its fangs sank deeper, and it growled menacingly, blood dripping from its jaws.


    "Damn beast!"


    Volk roared, his muscles bulging as he tried to wrench the wolf off him.


    Just as he was about to crush its head with his free hand, something else happened.


    ck vines, thick and pulsating with dark energy, shot up from the ground behind the wolf.


    They wrapped around the beast, yanking it back and forcing it to release Volk''s arm.


    Volk nced up in time to see Urza''lin standing several paces away, her face twisted in fury. "Damn you, Orc!" she screamed, her voice shrill with rage. "I will make you my eternal ve! And I''ll make sure you watch as I drain the life from your precious Elven witch!"


    She spat on the ground, venomous words pouring from her mouth.


    "You and your n are nothing! Mere pawns to me. Born to serve! Born to die! I am Urza''lin, the greatest of the Dark Elven Witches. You will bow before me, or I will see everyst one of your kin suffer in agony."


    Urza''lin''s power surged, her eyes glowing with dark magic. She began chanting, her hands weaving intricate spells in the air as the ck roots surrounding them writhed and pulsed with greater intensity.


    "I will show you my true power!" she screeched, her voice reaching a fever pitch. "I will break you, Orc!"


    But something was wrong.


    Volk watched, his eyes narrowing as Urza''lin''s face shifted from fury to confusion.


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    The magic swirling around her hands flickered, then sputtered.


    The ck roots that had been poised to strike suddenly faltered, retreating back into the earth.


    "What¡­ what''s happening?" Urza''lin muttered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.


    She looked down at her hands, which were still raised in the air, but her magic was no longer responding.


    Volk was surprised, too.


    What was happening?


    Normally, the Elves and Orcs under her control should have been moving, but then he saw dark green liquid pouring from their bodies, and he realized what was happening.


    Boldly, he smiled and took a step forward, his grip tightening on the Axe of Dissection. His heart pounded, but a cold determination settled over him. "What''s the matter, Witch?" Vokn growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You don''t look so powerful now."


    Urza''lin''s eyes widened in shock as she frantically tried to summon her magic again. "No¡­ no, this isn''t possible. I control them. I control all of them!"


    But the Orcs and Elves that had been under hermand were no longer responding to her.


    They stood still, their faces nk, their bodies no longer moving at her will.


    "What''s going on?" Urza''lin whispered, her voice filled with dread. She turned in a slow circle, looking at the battlefield in disbelief. "Why is my control not working? Why aren''t they obeying me?"


    Volk smiled grimly, taking another step forward. "Your time is up, Witch."


    Urza''lin''s eyes flickered with desperation, and for the first time since the battle began, true fear settled in her gaze.

 Chapter 105: Kill!

    The cavern was filled with the low hum of dark magic, its oppressive presence radiating from Urza''lin as she prepared another spell, her desperation clear in every strained movement.


    Her eyes darted to the Orcs and Elves who had once been under her control.


    The tattoos that had bound them to her will were fading, vanishing like mist in the early morning sun.


    Suddenly, a voice rang out through the chaos, piercing the air with a mixture of excitement and fury.


    "VOLK! YOU CAN KILL HER! THE TATTOOS ON THEIR BODIES ARE GONE!" Grounad''s shout echoed across the cavern.


    Volk''s eyes zed with renewed intensity. He didn''t need a second reminder.


    The moment those words left Grounad''s mouth, Volk was already moving, and his massive frame barreled forward like a war tank pouncing on every bullet shot.


    His Axe of Dissection glinted in the dim light of the catbs, its edge thirsting for blood.


    Urza''lin''s eyes widened in terror as she saw the Orc charging toward her, his face a mask of grim determination.


    Panic set in, and she frantically began conjuring a spell.


    Her hands moved in frantic motions, weaving ck vines from the ground that shot up like serpents, writhing and twisting through the air, their spiked ends aimed straight for Volk.


    "YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME, ORC?" she screamed, her voiceced with both fury and fear. The vines surged forward, hundreds of them, thick and pulsing with malevolent energy.


    But Volk was relentless.


    He swung his axe with a mighty roar, the de cutting through the air with brutal efficiency.


    Swoosh!


    The first wave of vines was shredded to pieces as his weapon cleaved through them like they were nothing more than overgrown weeds.


    ck sap sprayed into the air, sttering across the rocky floor as the severed tendrils writhed and died.


    Urza''lin hissed, her eyes narrowing in fury. She raised both hands now, summoning even more vines.


    They erupted from the ground in a frenzied storm, thick as trees,shing out at Volk from every direction. Some wrapped around his legs, others slithered toward his arms, trying to restrain him, to pull him down.


    But Volk was too strong.


    "RAAAAAH!"


    He bellowed, flexing his muscles and tearing through the roots with raw, savage power.


    His axe cut through them like a whirlwind of destruction, and for every vine that wrapped around him, he shattered two more.


    "LOK''TAR OGAAAAAAARR!!!" he shouted.


    The air was filled with the sounds of cracking roots, Volk''s furious grunts, and the snapping of dark magic.


    Urza''lin took a step back, sweat beading on her brow.


    Her breaths wereing in ragged gasps now.


    She hadn''t expected this¡ªthis brute strength, this unstoppable force.


    This strange Orc!


    This strange strong Orc!


    The magic she had nned to use against the Warlocks, she was forced to expend here, against a single Orc. And still, it wasn''t enough.


    "I didn''t n¡­ I didn''t n to use these on you!" she gasped, her voice trembling with both frustration and disbelief. "These¡­ These were for the Warlocks! You stupid Orc! You should''ve already been crushed by now!"


    But Volk didn''t stop.


    He wouldn''t stop. His eyes gleamed with fury, his lips curled in a vicious snarl.


    Another sh, another vine severed.


    He advanced on her, step by step, with each movement closing the gap between them.


    Urza''lin''s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse throbbing wildly as she continued to conjure more vines.


    Her mana reserves were draining fast.


    Too fast.


    She had used so much of it already, not just in controlling the Orcs and Elves but in keeping herself alive. Her n to enve them, to use them as pawns against the Warlocks, was slipping through her fingers.


    Volk''s axe came down again, cutting through another wave of vines. His steps were heavy, each one shaking the ground as he tore through her defenses.


    "No¡­ no!"


    Urza''lin''s voice cracked as panic began to consume her.


    She reached deep into her remaining reserves of magic, pulling everyst drop of mana she could muster.


    The ck vines surged up once more, thicker and more twisted than before, their spiked tendrils wrapping around Volk''s arms and legs, trying to slow him down.


    But Volk wasn''t having it.


    With a roar that echoed through the entire cavern, he wrenched his arms free, shattering the vines with sheer brute strength.


    His muscles bulged, his veins popping as he powered through thest of her magic. His axe came down again, smashing the final wall of ck roots that stood between him and Urza''lin.


    Urza''lin stumbled back, her legs shaking, her face pale.


    She had nothing left¡ªno mana, no strength. Her breaths were shallow, and she could feel her body weakening. "No¡­" she whispered, her voice barely audible now. "This¡­ can''t be¡­"


    Volk reached her in two strides. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, everything seemed to slow.


    Urza''lin''s lips quivered as she realized there was no escape.


    No more tricks.


    No more spells.


    Just the cold, hard reality of her defeat.


    But Volk didn''t swing his axe for the killing blow. Not yet.


    Instead, he stared down at her, his chest rising and falling withbored breaths. "You''ve done enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "It''s time for this to end."


    Urza''lin blinked, her heart racing.


    For a moment, she thought he was going to let her live. But then, she saw the shift in his stance, the tightening of his grip on the axe''s handle.


    He was going to knock her out, just as Grounad had suggested.


    Just as Volk lifted the axe to strike, there was a sudden, deafening BOOM that rocked the entire cavern.


    The ground trembled violently, sending shockwaves through the stone walls.


    Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling as the force of the tremor shook the very foundation of the catbs.


    Both Volk and Urza''lin stumbled, momentarily thrown off bnce by the massive quake.


    "What¡­ what was that?!" Urza''lin gasped, her eyes wide with terror.


    Volk steadied himself, his grip tightening on the axe as he surveyed the cavern.


    The entire space seemed to groan and shift, as if the very earth itself was reacting to the battle.


    Fissures began to form in the ground, cracks spreading through the stone like veins of destruction.


    The cavern wasn''t just trembling anymore. It was copsing.


    Urza''lin, her breath shallow and frantic, looked around in disbelief.


    The magic that had been fueling the catbs, the ancient dark forces she had hoped to harness for her own gain, were turning against her.


    The entire ce was crumbling, the power she had sought to control now spiraling out of her grasp.


    "Yes¡­" she whispered again, her voice filled with malice, "this¡­ was supposed to happen!"


    Volk''s gaze was steady, unyielding. He raised the blunt end of his axe onest time, his eyes locked onto Urza''lin.


    And just as the cavern continued to shake, with the sound of copsing stone growing louder, Volk brought the axe down toward Urza''lin''s head, determined to end this battle once and for all.


    But just as his weapon came down, a blinding sh of light erupted from the center of the cavern, and everything went white.

 Chapter 106: Crumbling

    The overwhelming white light consumed everything in sight.


    For a moment, Volk couldn''t feel the ground beneath his feet, nor the familiar weight of his Axe of Dissection in his hands.


    It was as though time and space had copsed into a single point, erasing all sense of direction.


    His body floated, suspended in the void, with nothing to anchor him.


    Then, he heard her voice. Urza''lin.


    Her cold, mocking tone slithered into his mind like a poison, her words echoing in the vast emptiness.


    "Strange Orc," she began, her voice a low, malicious hum, "you''re stronger than I anticipated. You''ve pushed me farther than anyone has in centuries."


    The sound of her voice was filled with twisted admiration, the kind that wasced with bitterness and resentment.


    Volk''s muscles tensed instinctively, though his body still felt paralyzed by the white void that engulfed him.


    "But of course," she continued, her words growing sharper, "I''ve always been prepared. As an Elder Dark Elven Witch, I''ve lived through ages. Defeat? Ha! That''s a fleeting concept for lesser beings, for those unprepared. I, on the other hand, have always kept an ace in my sleeve."


    Volk tried to move, tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn''t respond. His frustration swelled as he strained against the invisible bonds holding him in ce, his mind racing with fury.


    He could almost hear the sneer in her voice as she carried on, weaving her sinister narrative.


    "I never expected my carefullyid ns to be challenged by an Orc," Urza''lin continued, her voice dripping with disdain.


    "Of all creatures, you, an Orc, havee close to ruining everything. But it matters little now. You see, I always nned for this... for contingencies, for setbacks."


    She paused, as though relishing in the situation, savoring the power she still held over him.


    "The spell I''ve just cast," she said with a haughtyugh, "it''s a powerful one, meant for a much different battle. But fate, it seems, has twisted my hand. Now, you and all your nsmen will be scattered across the lower realms¡ªrandom, isted, and so far apart that you''ll never be able to find each other again."


    Volk''s heart dropped.


    He strained even harder, his mind screaming to break free. He couldn''t allow her to do this, couldn''t let her separate them, not when they had just fought to the brink of survival together.


    "Your wives¡­"


    Urza''lin''s voice took on a sickeningly sweet tone, "they''ll be sent far, far away. You''ll never see them again. In the random lower realms I''ll send you to, you''ll be nothing more than a lost soul, wandering and searching. By the time you figure out what happened, your precious Elven witches will be nothing more than memories¡ªif you even live that long."


    Herughter rang through the white void, cold and echoing, stretching on for what felt like an eternity.


    "And me? I will take the Elven witches with me, to another lower world, and there, I will bend them to my will. They will serve me as they should have from the beginning. And you? You strange Orcs? You''ll be left with nothing."


    The white light flickered, and the world began to twist again. Volk''s limbs ached as they finally responded to his will, but it was toote. Urza''lin''s voice was already fading, dissolving into the void.


    "Goodbye, Orc. You may have won the battle, but I''ve won the war¡­"


    ¡­


    Suddenly, the white light burst away, and Volk''s eyes snapped open.


    He was lying on the cold, hard ground of the catbs.


    The cavernous walls still surrounded him, but something was different.


    He blinked rapidly, his vision adjusting, trying to make sense of the scene before him.


    Groaning, he pushed himself up onto his elbows and nced around.


    The air was thick with dust and the scent of magic went awry.


    Around him, the other Orcs of the Dreadmaw n were stirring, slowlying to their senses, their groans and murmurs filling the silence. But something was missing.


    The Elves¡ªtheir wives¡ªwere gone.


    Panic shot through Volk''s veins like fire. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting across the cavern.


    Only Orcs remained.


    The Dreadmaw n, Bloodfang n, and others, but not a single Elf in sight.


    Solluha''r, his wife, was gone.


    Every Elven witch had vanished.


    "What... what happened?" Grounad''s voice was the first to break the eerie quiet. His face was pale, his eyes wide with disbelief as he clutched his weapon.


    He looked around frantically, his expression mirroring Volk''s own panic. "Where are they? Where are the witches?"


    The other Orcs began to rise, confusion and fear gripping them as they realized what had transpired. Whispers filled the air, growing louder with each passing second.


    "They''re gone."


    "Where did they go?"


    "What kind of magic was that?"


    "What did that witch do?"


    Volk''s fists clenched at his sides as he stared at the empty space where Solluha''r had been. His heart pounded in his chest, as he tried to think but his head was still groggy.


    He had heard Urza''lin''s words in the void, her taunting threat still fresh in his memory.


    "They''ve been taken," Volk growled, his voice rough with rage. The Orcs turned to him, their faces a mixture of anger, confusion, and fear.


    "Urza''lin... that Dark Elven Witch... she''s sent them to a lower world. We''re all separated now."


    The Orcs exchanged worried nces, their murmurs growing louder.


    "To a lower world? What does that even mean?"


    "Are they alive?"


    "How do we find them?"


    Grounad, still pale but now filled with a burning determination, stepped forward.


    "Volk," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "what do we do now? You''re the strongest among us... you fought her. What do we do?"


    Volk''s jaw tightened. His mind was racing, searching for answers that weren''t there. He could feel the weight of every Orc''s gaze on him, waiting, hoping for some kind of n. But his thoughts were clouded with fury and fear for Solluha''r.


    "We find them," he said atst, his voice low and resolute. "We find our wives. We figure out where she sent them, and we bring them back."


    "But how?" another Orc called out, his voice thick with desperation. "How do we even begin? We don''t know where they are! This... this magic she used¡ªit''s beyond anything we''ve ever seen!"


    Volk didn''t respond immediately. He could feel the tension rising in the room, the despair starting to set in among the Orcs.


    He understood their fear. It was gnawing at him too, threatening to consume him.


    But he wouldn''t let it. He couldn''t.


    "Volk¡­" Grounad added, his voice steadier now. But he also didn''t know what to say.


    A murmur rippled through the group. As much as they wanted to believe in Volk''s words, the reality of their situation weighed heavily on them.


    Suddenly, in the midst of the murmurs, a soft DING echoed in Volk''s mind.


    He stiffened, his eyes narrowing as the sound reverberated in his head.


    It was the same sound he had heard before, back when the strange system had first made itself known to him.


    A notification.


    One that only he could hear.


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    Volk blinked!


    Maybe another mission!

 Chapter 107: Cant get out

    Volk stared at the glowing notification in front of him, the words burning into his mind:


    | All the elves are safe in the Orzaroth Realm. |


    For a moment, he exhaled a sigh of relief, his tense muscles rxing slightly. But then, an uneasy realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.


    His breath caught in his throat, and his heart began to race.


    "If they''re in the Orzaroth Realm¡­ and the system was really telling me that¡­" he muttered, feeling a sudden chill, "Does that mean... we''re not?"


    The enormity of the situation weighed down on him, his mind racing with questions. His hand tightened around the handle of his axe as his eyes scanned the dark, unfamiliar surroundings.


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    The caverns that once felt like a battleground now seemed like the maw of a beast that had swallowed them whole.


    Without warning, Volk turned toward the older generation of Dreadmaw n Orcs, his voiceced with confusion and desperation.


    "Are we really in a new realm? Just like that? How did we even get here?"


    The older Orcs exchanged nces, their eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight as if weighing whether to tell him the full truth.


    One of them, a scarred and battle-worn Orc named Grurgan, finally stepped forward, his voice a gravelly rumble. "Aye, young Orc. We are in a new realm. This is how it''s always been,d."


    Volk''s brow furrowed. "What do you mean ''always been''?"


    Grurgan grunted, looking around at the younger Orcs who had gathered, curious and equally unsettled by their current predicament.


    He began speaking slowly, as though exining to children.


    "This catb... it''s not just a shelter, nor just someir where beastse to fight. No, this catb is a conduit¡ªa portal to other realms. But not all catbs are created equal.


    "You see, depending on the catb''s level, it determines where we''ll end up. Low-level catbs, like the one we''re in now, send us to lower-level realms."


    Another elder Orc, an ancient figure named Morulk, chimed in, his voice raspy from age.


    "It''s true. Our ancestors once used catbs to escape the Warlocks and the Dark Elven Witches, traveling between realms like the wind. But that was long ago. The warlocks and witches began hunting us down, trying to control the catbs for their own purposes."


    Volk blinked, trying toprehend the gravity of what they were saying. "So... we''re stuck here?"


    Morulk''s sunken eyes gleamed in the dim light as he shook his head. "Not stuck. Trapped. Until we be strong enough or find another way out, we are bound to this catb."


    Volk''s mouth went dry. His mind reeled with the implications. "The Dark Elven Witch¡ªUrza''lin¡ªshe went with the elves... with my wife! She took all the elves with her! What does that mean?"


    A murmur rippled through the crowd of Orcs, the gravity of his words sinking in. Grurgan''s expression darkened as he stroked his chin.


    "If she went with the elves, then that means they''ve been sent to a random realm¡ªseparate from us. I don''t know what realm but it''s absolutely another realm, and we... we''ve been sent to another."


    Volk clenched his fists, his muscles tensing with a sudden, overwhelming desire to find them. "Then we need to leave. We need to find them and bring them back."


    But before he could continue, a ripple ofughter broke through the gathered crowd of Orcs.


    Gurhahahaah!


    Garhahahhaha!


    Grahahahaha!


    It started low, with a few chuckles, but soon grew into full-blown bellyughs. Orcs from all ns¡ªDreadmaw, Bloodfang, Ironhide, and others¡ªjoined in, their deep voices echoing off the walls of the cavern.


    Volk turned toward them, his expression filled with frustration and confusion. "What''s so funny?"


    One of the Bloodfang n Orcs, a hulking brute with massive tusks, pped his thigh, barely able to contain his amusement.


    "You think it''s that simple? Just ''find them''? Just walk out of here like it''s a stroll in the woods?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.


    Another Orc, this one from the Ironhide n, chimed in, his voice booming. "You''re dreaming, young Orc! It''s not that easy to travel between realms, especially for Orcs like us!"


    Volk red at them, his rage boiling beneath the surface. "And what do you suggest we do? Stay here forever?"


    Before anyone could answer, an older Dreadmaw n Orc, his skin weathered and his eyes filled with a strange wisdom, stepped forward.


    This was Ghurn, one of the elders who had seen more battles than most Orcs could dream of. His voice was calm, yet carried the weight of authority.


    "Young Orc," Ghurn began, his gaze steady and unflinching, "you did well securing the crystal and saving us from that witch. You showed strength and wisdom beyond your years. But now, you must face reality."


    Volk''s jaw tightened. "And what reality is that?"


    Ghurn''s expression softened, almost sympathetic. "We are no longer the Orcs we once were. We''ve been changed, transformed by this catb and this realm. We''re now considered catb monsters."


    Volk''s eyes widened in disbelief. "catb monsters? What does that even mean?"


    Ghurn let out a deep sigh, looking around at the other Orcs.


    "It means that we are bound to this catb, just like any other creature born within it. We are part of the ecosystem now. Our only hope is to grow stronger, to kill enough of the aboriginals in this realm, and maybe, just maybe, we will be epted by the realm the catb was sent to and we''ll find a way out."


    Volk''s hands trembled with barely contained rage. "So that''s it? We just fight and kill until we''re strong enough to leave?"


    The elder Orc smiled grimly. "That''s all. That''s the way of the catb. It''s a brutal world, but it''s the only way forward."


    The other Orcs, younger and older alike, began tough again, their deep, guttural voices filling the cavern.


    Some pped their knees, others pped each other on the back, all finding humor in the absurdity of their situation.


    One of the younger Orcs from the Ironhide n, his face still fresh with the fire of battle, grinned at Volk. "You think you''re special because you killed a few elves and a witch? We''ve all been fighting since we were whelps. This is just another realm, another battlefield. Get used to it."


    Volk''s eyes narrowed as he looked at the sea of grinning faces around him.


    Despite their words, he couldn''t shake the feeling that something deeper was at y.


    He knew theirughter was just a defense against the hopelessness that threatened to consume their minds.


    And yet, deep down, Volk knew he couldn''t give in to despair.


    He had to find a way to reach his wife and the others.


    The thought of Solluha''r trapped in some random realm, possibly in danger, gnawed at his very soul. He would not let this be the end.


    As theughter died down, Volk stood taller, his eyes burning with desire to get out.


    "Laugh all you want," he said, his voice low and steady. "But I''m not giving up. I''m going to find them. I''m going to find my wife, and I''m going to bring her back."


    The cavern fell silent, the echoes of the Orcs''ughter fading into the darkness.


    They all stared at Volk, some with amusement, others with curiosity.


    Ghurn chuckled softly, stepping forward and cing a hand on Volk''s shoulder.


    "Aye,d. I''ve seen that look before. You''re not the first Orc to face impossible odds... but maybe, just maybe, you''ll be the one to break them," and then he wouldugh out loud again, "hahahahaha!"

 Chapter 108: Mission

    The atmosphere in the dimly lit cavern was heavy with the tension of confusion and frustration.


    Volk''s mind was thruming towards all the possibilities he could think of as he processed the reality they were now trapped in.


    The notification that confirmed the safety of the elves brought him brief sce, but it quickly turned into a harrowing realization.


    If the elves were in another realm, that meant he and the other Orcs were stuck in this one.


    The unfamiliar surroundings only deepened his dread.


    Volk, still staring into the distance, clenched his fists and turned to the older Orcs.


    "Who do we need to kill to be epted by this realm? Is it the monsters of this catb?"


    His voice was firm, though tinged with desperation.


    The other Orcs paused, surprised by his question, and for a moment, there was a brief silence. But then, almost in unison, the cavern erupted withughter.


    "BWAHAHAHAHAH!"


    "BRAHAHHAHA!"


    "KRAHAHAHHAHA!!!"


    It was the kind of guttural, mockingughter that grated against Volk''s patience.


    ''Why are theyughing so much? It''s normal for me to ask, after all; I am a young Orc. But why are theyughing? Are they trying to show that they are elders and superior?''


    However, he chose not to dwell and focus on it, after all, these Orcs are hoodlums.


    Not worth being angry about now as he had more things to think of.


    Orcs from every n¡ªDreadmaw, Bloodfang, Ironhide¡ªwere doubling over, clutching their sides, amused by his question as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world.


    "Hear that,ds?!" one of the Bloodfang Orcs guffawed, pping hisrade on the back. "This young pup thinks we just need to go kill some monsters! Like it''s that easy!"


    "Does he think this is some kind of adventure?" another Orc bellowed through hisughter, his tusks gleaming as he grinned wide. "Kill a few monsters, and we''ll be home by supper?"


    They jeered at Volk, their voices echoing off the cold stone walls of the cavern.


    The sound was infuriating, their mocking tones digging into Volk''s pride. He stood rigid, his eyes narrowed, as they continued their teasing.


    "Does he think this is for real?" one of the Ironhide Orcs sneered, his voice thick with amusement. "Is this what the Dreadmaw n''s reduced to? Dreamers who think they can just kill their way out of anything?"


    The chorus ofughter swelled again, each Orc throwing in their jabs, each word grating on Volk''s ears. Readtest stories on m_v-l''e|-NovelBin


    He could feel the heat rising in his chest, making his blood boil with frustration.


    This wasn''t a game. His wife was somewhere in another realm, and here they were,ughing as if this was all some kind of cruel joke.


    Suddenly, the old Orc who had been beside Volk the whole time stepped forward.


    His leathery skin and the wisdom in his eyes seemed to silence the other Orcs, though his expression carried the same smug amusement.


    The elder shook his head slowly, as though Volk had missed something obvious.


    "Young Orc," the old one began, his voice gravelly and slow, "you don''t understand how things work here, do you?"


    Volk''s jaw clenched as the elder continued,


    "The monsters in this catb? They''re nothing but food for us,d. They''re weak, pathetic creatures. We could kill them all day, and it wouldn''t make a difference."


    The elder paused, his eyes gleaming with something between pity and amusement. "If you really want to get out of here, we need something else."


    Volk raised an eyebrow, his frustration mounting. "What do you mean? What else is there?"


    The elder chuckled darkly, leaning in closer as if he were sharing a grand secret.


    "We need someone from outside. Someone from this realm that we are sent to. They need toe in here, be drawn into this catb, and be the victim. Only then, once we''ve killed enough of them, will the realm ept us. And let me tell you something, boy... that will take forever."


    A murmur rippled through the gathered Orcs, some nodding in grim agreement, others chuckling again at the prospect.


    The elder straightened, the smirk on his lips returning. "So you see,d, all this talk about fighting your way out? It''s useless. We could wait here for a thousand years, or more, and only then... maybe... we''d get enough of them to leave."


    Volk''s eyes widened. His mind spun with the enormity of what the elder had just said.


    Wait?


    They were supposed to sit here, in this forsaken ce, waiting for outsiders to stumble into their trap?


    His fists trembled with the desire to act, to fight, to do something¡ªanything¡ªother than sit around and wait.


    "So that''s it?" Volk muttered, his voice shaking with rage. "We just wait here? For who knows how long? Until someone¡ªsomeone¡ªwanders in? And then we kill them and hope it''s enough?"


    The elder nodded, his expression calm, even satisfied. "That''s it. And don''t worry,d. The crystal will keep us alive. We''ve got food, water, everything we need. As long as we meet our basic needs, we''ll survive.


    It might take a long time, but we''ll live."


    Volk''s heart sank.


    The reality of their situation crashed over him like an avnche of solid ice.


    If this was how catbs worked, then they were truly trapped. They might be stuck here for eternity, waiting, biding their time, with no guarantee they would ever escape.


    The thought of being separated from Solluha''r, his wife, for an eternity was unbearable.


    The elder gave Volk a pat on the shoulder, his expression one of mock sympathy. "Come on,d. Let''s go hunt. It''s all we can do for now."


    But just as Volk was about to slump in defeat, a sharp, familiar ding echoed in his ears.


    A notification appeared in front of him, its glowing text capturing his attention.


    Ding!


    | Mission: Challenge and defeat all the remaining Orc ns to work under the Dreadmaw n.


    | Rewards: Getting out of the Dungeon.


    | Failure: The Host and the whole Dreadmaw n will revert back to green Orcs. |


    Volk''s eyes widened as he read the words, and for a moment, he stood frozen.


    His mind began to articte every so he coukd absorb the implications of the mission.


    Challenge all the other Orc ns?


    It seemed impossible, but the reward... the promise of freedom... it was right there, within reach.


    Wait¡­


    Volk would look around.


    Their skins.


    Green?


    Slowly, a smile spread across Volk''s face.


    Not a smile of amusement, but one of sheer desire for beatdown. His grip on his axe tightened, and a fire burned and ignited in his chest.


    He turned to the elder, who was still chuckling softly to himself, oblivious to what Volk had just seen.


    Without a word, Volk pushed past him, his eyes scanning the crowd of Orcs, many of whom were still smirking orughing.


    "What''s that grin on your face for,d?" the elder asked, raising an eyebrow.


    Volk ignored him. He raised his axe high above his head, his voice booming through the cavern with newfound confidence.


    "What are you all waiting for?" he shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Hunt for me and my Dreadmaw n. Now!"


    Theughter died instantly as the Orcs stared at him, bewildered.


    Some exchanged confused nces, but Volk didn''t care.


    He had his mission, and nothing¡ªnothing¡ªwas going to stop him now.


    "Yes," he whispered to himself, the word barely audible as his smile widened. "If we can''t get out, you all must know who would be under whom¡­"

 Chapter 109: Challenge

    The tension in the cavern was incredibly sharp and one move, all of them felt they would be pushed and crushed.


    The flickering light of the glowing crystals reflected off the stone walls, casting long shadows over the assembled Orcs.


    Volk stood at the forefront, his broad shoulders squared, eyes glinting with determination as he faced the other ns.


    The silence after his deration lingered in the air like a storm waiting to break.


    For a moment, nothing happened.


    Then, like a dam breaking, the other Orc ns erupted into anger and disbelief.


    "Work under the Dreadmaw n?" A gruff voice from the Bloodfang n snarled.


    "The weakest n among us?"


    The Orc who spoke stepped forward, his broad chest heaving, fists clenched in fury. His tusks gleamed as he bared his teeth, clearly enraged at the notion.


    The Fireblood n leader, a hulking brute covered in scars, spat on the ground, his red eyes narrowing. "This runt from Dreadmaw thinks he can talk to us about being saved? Who does he think he is?"


    "The Dreadmaw n!" another voice echoed from the Thunderstrike n, derision dripping from every word. "You lot barely survived back there! And now you want to rule us?"


    The cavern seemed to vibrate with the sound of their angry growls, their voices blending into a cacophony of fury.


    Orcs of every n¡ªthe Bloodfang, Ironhide, Thunderstrike, Stonefist, Shadoww, Fireblood, and Frostbite¡ªstood up, their faces twisted in disbelief and rage.


    They were warriors, chieftains, and veterans of countless battles.


    To them, this was an insult of the highest order.


    Volk stood firm, unfazed by their outbursts, though he could feel the heat of their anger radiating towards him.


    Suddenly, the elder Orc from his own n, Dreadmaw, stepped forward and grabbed his arm, his face filled with incredulity.


    "Young Orc!" the elder hissed, his grip tight. "What are you doing, boy? Do you understand what you''re saying? This isn''t a game. You''ll get us all killed!"


    Volk shook the elder off with a sharp jerk of his arm, his eyes zing with determination.


    He wasn''t going to back down, not now.


    He walked forward, towards the circle of enraged chieftains from the other ns, his steps slow and deliberate.


    "Yes!" Volk''s voice echoed through the cavern, silencing the muttering and grumbling.


    "I''m challenging all of you. You should be grateful that it was me who saved you back there. If it weren''t for me, the Dark Elven Witch would have killed everyst one of us. But I''m not here to brag. I''m here to im what''s rightfully mine! I''ll be your Warchief!!"


    Theughter that followed was harsh and grating.


    Grahahahahha!


    Orcs from the other nsughed, their voices bouncing off the cavern walls.


    Bwagrahahhahaha!


    The Bloodfang Orcs howled with amusement, some clutching their sides, their deep, gutturalughter filling the space.


    The Ironhide n leaned on their weapons, shaking their heads in disbelief.


    "Absolute Authority?" one of the Ironhide Orcs spat, his voiceced with sarcasm. "As Warchief of all the ns? You''re delusional, boy."


    "A Warchief?" a Frostbite Orc echoed with a sneer. "The Dreadmaw n has always been weak. You barely survived this catb, and now you want to rule over all of us? You''re out of your mind!"


    Even the Thunderstrike n, known for their stoicism, couldn''t hold back their amusement.


    One of their warriors, his face lined with the scars of many battles, chuckled darkly.


    "This is ridiculous. Is this the best the Dreadmaw n has to offer? Some fool who thinks a single victory makes him Warchief?"


    Their voices blended together, a symphony of mockery and disdain.


    The Orcs of the Fireblood n were the loudest, their leader wiping tears ofughter from his eyes.


    "Where''s the Dreadmaw Chieftain?" one of them shouted. "Who gave this young Orc the audacity to speak like this? Is he courting death?"


    Volk frowned, his mind shing back to the events of the past where he was challenged by the chieftain of his own Dreadmaw n for epting Grounad as his follower.


    The Dreadmaw Chieftain that had been leading the whole Dreadmaw n, but now... he was nowhere to be found.


    Where was the Chieftain?


    Suddenly, one of the younger Orcs from the Dreadmaw n stepped forward, his face grim. "The Chieftain..." he began hesitantly, "he perished. He died protecting us all against the Dark Elven Witch earlier."


    A hush fell over the cavern as the news settled in.


    Volk felt a surge of realization, and then heughed¡ªa deep, gutturalugh that made the other Orcs pause. "That''s right," Volk said, his voice carrying across the cavern. "I am the Chieftain now."


    The room erupted again, but this time with even more disbelief.


    One of the Bloodfang Orcs stepped forward, his thick arms crossed over his chest.


    His eyes flicked over Volk dismissively beforending on the massive figure of Grounad, who had remained silent at the back, observing.


    "Grounad!" the Bloodfang Orc barked, his voice sharp with contempt. "Is this the leader you''ve chosen? The one you left us for? The Dreadmaw n? This is what you traded for the Bloodfang n?"


    The Orc''s words hung in the air, filled with venom. He stepped closer, his face twisted with fury. "You were the most promising young warrior of the Bloodfang n! You had everything ahead of you! Power, strength, respect! And you threw it all away...


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    He sneered at Volk as if the very sight of him disgusted him. "You could have led us into glory, Grounad. But instead, you follow this fool. This... runt, who thinks he can stand among us."


    The Bloodfang Orcs behind him jeered, echoing his sentiments. "You made a mistake, Grounad! You could''ve been great!" one shouted.


    Another growled, "You were born to lead us, not to follow some whelp from the weakest n!"


    Grounad, who had remained silent throughout the confrontation, finally stepped forward. His expression was calm, but there was an unmistakable fire in his eyes.


    "Maybe you''re the ones who are scared," he said, his voice steady. "You mock us now, but deep down, you know the truth. You know that Volk is the reason you''re all still standing here. Maybe that''s why you''re so loud. Maybe you''re just hiding your fear."


    His words were like a p to their faces, and for a moment, there was a stunned silence.


    The Orcs of the Bloodfang n scowled, but they didn''t respond immediately.


    Meanwhile, Volk''s patience had run out. His hands tightened around the haft of his axe, his teeth bared in a furious snarl.


    He had had enough of the mockery, enough of the disbelief.


    Rage boiled in his chest, rising up like a tidal wave.


    Without warning, he let out a deafening roar, his voice shaking the very ground beneath them.


    "KORNUUM DRHAKAAAAAAARR!!!"


    The cavern shook with the force of his shout.


    Dust and small stones tumbled from the ceiling as the Orcs around him flinched in surprise.


    The echo of his war cry seemed to reverberate through the very bones of the mountain, a sound so primal and filled with raw power that it silenced even the most defiant Orcs.


    For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence.


    Volk''s chest heaved as he red at the assembled ns, his eyes burning with intensity.


    "You think this is a joke? You think I''m weak?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.


    "I don''t care what you think. I''m the Chieftain of the Dreadmaw n now. And whether you like it or not, you will bow to me as your new Warchief!"

 Chapter 110: Disappointment

    The atmosphere in the cavern grew itchy and heavy, as though the very air was waiting for something to snap.


    All eyes were on Volk, standing defiant before the assembled Orc ns.


    His bold deration was in the waiting, reverberating through the silence after his mighty roar.


    The chieftains of the Bloodfang n, Ironhide n, Thunderstrike n, Stonefist n, Shadoww n, Fireblood n, and Frostbite n stood in disbelief, with their muscles taut with squirming tension.


    Each Orc seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for someone to make the first move.


    Then, with a growl that could shake mountains, the Bloodfang chieftain stepped forward.


    "GurraaaaaAaAaAAAHHH!!"


    His scarred, hulking frame moved with purpose, his blood-red eyes locked onto Volk.


    The battle-worn marks on his body told the story of a veteran¡ªone who had seen countless wars and survived them all.


    His lip curled in a snarl as his massive boots thudded against the stone floor, echoing through the cavern.


    "You dare speak like this to me, whelp?" the Bloodfang chieftain growled, his voice low and menacing. His words dripped with contempt.


    "You''re nothing but a pup, still wet behind the ears. You think you can challenge the Bloodfang n? I''ll deal with you myself, runt."


    Volk raised an eyebrow, his face impassive.


    He didn''t even flinch.


    Instead, he took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the chieftain. "Only one?" he asked, his voice calm, though it carried a weight of arrogance. "Not all of you?"


    That simple question sent a ripple of shock through the ranks of the other ns.


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    The gathered Orcs exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into uproariousughter.


    The sound of theirughter made a deafening sound, filling the cavern with the harsh, guttural sounds of Orcs mocking Volk''s apparent foolishness.


    "Hah! This runt wants to take on all of us!" roared an Orc from the Ironhide n, his broad chest shaking with mirth. "Does he even know who he''s talking to?"


    "Arrogant fool!" barked a Stonefist warrior, pounding his hammer against the ground for emphasis. "He won''t evenst a minute against Bloodfang''s chieftain!"


    "He''s lost his mind!" chuckled a Thunderstrike Orc, hisughter edged with cruelty. "This pup doesn''t know the difference between a real warrior and a child''s ything."


    Even the chieftain of the Bloodfang n couldn''t help butugh, a dark, rumbling sound that sent vibrations through the stone.


    His eyes gleamed with malicious amusement as he watched Volk, clearly enjoying the idea of putting the younger Orc in his ce.


    "Bold words, Dreadmaw," the Bloodfang chieftain growled, stepping closer.


    His massive fists flexed, ready to crush his challenger. "But I''ll make sure you eat them. I''ll break you in front of all these ns. And when I''m done, no one will remember your name. You''ll be nothing more than dust beneath my boots."


    Volk simply smirked, his calm demeanor never faltering. "I''m sure," he said, his voice slow and deliberate, "that the chieftain of the Bloodfang n won''t even leave a mark."


    The Bloodfang chieftain''s eyes red with anger, his body tensing like a coiled spring. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on his weapon. "You arrogant little¡ª"


    Before he could finish, the chieftain lunged at Volk, his powerful legs propelling him forward like a bull charging into battle.


    His massive war axe sliced through the air with a loud whump! the de gleaming under the cavern''s light.


    But Volk was faster. He sidestepped the attack with ease as if he was someone who had been in countless battles himself.


    The Bloodfang chieftain''s axe bit into the stone floor with a ng! sending sparks flying, but Volk was already behind him, untouched and unimpressed.


    "Tsk, tsk," Volk said, shaking his head. "That''s it? That''s the best you''ve got? I expected more from a so-called chieftain."


    The Bloodfang chieftain snarled in frustration, whirling around to strike again. He swung his axe with raw fury, each blow strong enough to shatter bone.


    Whoosh!


    Thud!


    Each strike missed as Volk effortlessly dodged and sidestepped, his movements so precise they seemed almost mocking.


    "Pathetic," Volk muttered as he evaded another swing, the de missing him by mere inches. "You call yourself a warrior? I''ve seen pups fight with more skill."


    The other Orcs watched in stunned silence, their expressions ranging from confusion to disbelief.


    At first, they expected Volk to be crushed, the battle over in a heartbeat.


    The Bloodfang chieftain was a veteran, after all. Volk, in their eyes, was just an overconfident pup who didn''t know his ce.


    "What... what''s happening?" an Ironhide Orc muttered under his breath, his eyes wide as he watched Volk effortlessly dodge another blow.


    "No way," growled a Fireblood warrior, his hand tightening on his weapon. "The chieftain''s toying with him. He''ll finish it soon."


    But as time passed and the Bloodfang chieftain''s attacks grew more frantic, more desperate, the mockingughter that had filled the cavern began to fade.


    It was reced by a tense, uneasy silence. The realization slowly dawned on them all¡ªVolk wasn''t struggling. He wasn''t even trying.


    "He''s... just defending?" a Thunderstrike warrior whispered, eyes narrowing in confusion.


    Volk sidestepped another wild swing, his expression one of sheer boredom. "Weak," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "I''m disappointed. I thought you''d at least give me a challenge."


    The Bloodfang chieftain growled, his chest heaving as sweat began to drip down his brow.


    He swung again, putting all his strength into the blow, but Volk ducked under the strike with almost casual ease.


    "This is what passes for strength in the Bloodfang n?" Volk asked, his tone mocking. "I''ve seen grunts fight better."


    The other Orcs shifted ufortably, their eyes darting between Volk and their chieftain.


    This wasn''t how it was supposed to go.


    Their chieftain was a seasoned warrior, a fighter who had led them through countless victories. And yet, here he was, being toyed with by a younger Orc, one who barely looked like he was breaking a sweat.


    "H-how is this possible?" a Stonefist Orc muttered, his voice filled with disbelief. "The chieftain should''ve crushed him by now!"


    "Is... is Volk really that strong?" a Shadoww warrior whispered, fear creeping into his voice.


    The Bloodfang chieftain was breathing heavily now, his attacks growing more sluggish with each swing.


    His once confident expression was now twisted in frustration and disbelief.


    He couldn''tnd a single hit.


    It was as if Volk wasn''t even taking him seriously.


    "Is that all?" Volk asked, his voice calm and unbothered as he dodged another blow. "I expected a lot more from someone with your reputation. But I am disappointed by your performance."


    The Bloodfang chieftain''s face twisted into a snarl.


    Graaaahh!!


    He swung again, this time aiming low to catch Volk off guard.


    Wham! But Volk leaped back, his feet barely touching the ground as he evaded with a dancer''s grace.


    "Too slow," Volk said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Is this really the best the Bloodfang n has to offer?"


    The other Orcs exchanged uneasy nces.


    What was happening before them didn''t make sense.


    The Bloodfang chieftain was one of the strongest fighters they knew, but here he was, being utterly humiliated by Volk.


    "Impossible... this can''t be real," an Ironhide Orc muttered, his hands trembling around his weapon.


    "He... he''s ying with him," a Frostbite warrior said in horror, his eyes wide as he watched Volk effortlessly dodge yet another swing. "This can''t be happening."


    Volk''s expression remained calm, even as the Bloodfang chieftain began to stumble. His attacks were wild now, more desperate than ever.


    His once proud stance was slumping, his breathing in ragged gasps.


    "You''re done," Volk said coldly, watching as the chieftain''s movements became more erratic.


    With one final, desperate swing, the Bloodfang chieftain lunged forward, his axe raised high.


    However, Volk sidestepped the attack once more, and with a swift movement, he kicked the chieftain''s legs out from under him.


    The Bloodfang chieftain crashed to the ground with a thud! his axe ttering beside him.


    For a moment, the cavern was silent.


    The other Orcs stared in disbelief as the once-mighty chieftain knelt on the stone floor, gasping for breath, his body shaking with exhaustion.


    Volk stood over him, his expression cold and unreadable. "I told you," he said softly, his voice carrying through the cavern. "You wouldn''t even leave a mark."


    And with that, the Bloodfang chieftain, utterly defeated, fell to his knees, the weight of his failure heavy on his shoulders.


    The silence that followed made their ears hear a long deafening ring!

 Chapter 111: All at once

    The chieftain of the Bloodfang n, despite his exhaustion, was not done yet.


    His pride, his rage, everything inside him refused to allow him to bow down to Volk, especially after being humiliated in front of the other Orc ns.


    With a snarl, he lunged forward from his kneeling position, his muscles straining as he hurled his axe at Volk.


    The weapon spun through the air with a deadly hiss, aimed straight for Volk''s chest.


    Whoosh!


    But Volk was faster.


    He sidestepped the axe with ease, his body moving as though he had expected the attack all along.


    The axe sailed past him, ttering loudly against the stone wall behind him with a sharp ng.


    The chieftain, furious and now weaponless, charged at Volk again, this time with more desperation in his eyes. His massive hands were outstretched, fingers curled into ws. Continue your adventure at m|v-l''e -NovelBin


    He aimed for Volk''s face, attempting to gouge his eyes out, his teeth bared in an attempt to bite at his neck.


    Volk''s face remained calm, even as the chieftain lunged at him with every bit of strength he had left.


    The other Orcs watched in stunned silence, some leaning forward, expecting this underhanded attack to catch Volk off guard.


    Thud!


    Before the chieftain couldnd a blow, Volk brought his leg up and mmed his boot into the chieftain''s thigh with brutal force, sending him crashing back to his knees.


    Kabang!


    The Bloodfang chieftain let out a pained growl as his legs buckled beneath him.


    "Uurrrkkk!!"


    With a scream, his massive body trembled with exhaustion, and his breath immediately came in heavy, ragged gasps.


    "I thought you were a proud veteran warrior," Volk said, his voice low but sharp, cutting through the tension in the cavern like a de.


    He stared down at the chieftain, his expression cold, yet tinged with disappointment.


    "Howe you would resort to attacks like that? Eye-gouging? Biting? Is this the honor of the Bloodfang n?"


    The chieftain red up at him, hatred burning in his eyes, but he couldn''t move. His body was too worn out, his muscles screaming in protest.


    "Get up," Volkmanded, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest. His tone was calm but held an unyielding authority that echoed through the cavern. "Get up and fight me like a warrior."


    The Bloodfang chieftain tried to push himself up, his arms shaking from the effort, but his body refused to obey him.


    His pride, however, wouldn''t let him stay down.


    "Uggrrrghghhh!"


    He grunted, his hands trembling as he tried to rise. But no matter how hard he struggled, his strength had abandoned him.


    The Orcs around them murmured in disbelief, exchanging shocked nces.


    "Is this really happening?" muttered one of the Thunderstrike warriors, his voice tinged with surprise. "The chieftain... can''t even stand up."


    "I''ve never seen him like this before," an Ironhide Orc whispered, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Volk... he''s making him look weak."


    Even the older generation of the Dreadmaw n, who had initially looked on with anger and doubt, were now silent, their eyes locked on Volk.


    At first, they had been enraged by Volk''s audacity, by his im to be their chieftain without earning their respect. But now, as they watched him effortlessly dominate the Bloodfang chieftain, their perspective had begun to shift.


    "He''s strong..." one of the older Dreadmaw warriors muttered under his breath. "Stronger than any of us thought."


    "But how?" asked another Dreadmaw elder, his face lined with age and wisdom. "Where did this powere from?"


    The younger generation of the Dreadmaw n stood back, their faces moreposed, knowing full well why Volk was so powerful.


    They remained silent, keeping their knowledge to themselves as they watched their new chieftain in action.


    Meanwhile, Volk''s eyes never left the Bloodfang chieftain, who was still struggling to rise.


    Seeing his opponent''s futile efforts, Volk''s expression softened for a brief moment, but then his face hardened again.


    "Get up!"


    Volk barked, his voice echoing through the cavern like a thunderp.


    He stepped forward and kicked the Bloodfang chieftain''s axe across the stone floor, the weapon scraping loudly as it slid to a stop right in front of the chieftain.


    The chieftain, bbergasted, looked down at the weapon, blinking in surprise.


    "Take it," Volk ordered, his voice colder now. "Get up and take your weapon. Fight me properly."


    The Bloodfang chieftain hesitated, his eyes darting from the axe to Volk. His pride warred with his exhaustion, but his body refused to cooperate.


    He reached for the axe, his hand shaking as he gripped the handle, but he couldn''t lift it. His strength had been sappedpletely.


    "Get up!" Volk shouted again, his patience thinning.


    Themand sent a shiver through the assembled Orcs.


    They could see the fury building in Volk''s eyes, the unrelenting demand for battle in his posture.


    But the chieftain couldn''t move.


    He was beaten.


    Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the tension.


    "My former chieftain," Grounad stepped forward, his voice dripping with contempt. He moved with slow, deliberate steps until he was standing just behind Volk. His eyes gleamed with something close to satisfaction as he gazed down at the kneeling chieftain.


    "How does it feel, kneeling in front of Volk? I thought you said I made a mistake leaving the Bloodfang n, transferring to the Dreadmaw n."


    Grounad''s words struck like a hammer, and the chieftain flinched as though he had been physically struck.


    "And now look at you." Grounad''s lips curled into a cruel smile. "Kneeling before the very Orc you dismissed. The very one you underestimated."


    The chieftain of the Bloodfang n growled in frustration, his hands gripping the axe so tightly his knuckles turned white. But he didn''t have the strength to stand.


    He couldn''t rise.


    Volk, growing impatient, took another step forward, his eyes zing to each Orc ns.


    "What about the rest of you?" His voice was like a storm, sweeping over the assembled Orcs with undeniable authority.


    He pointed to the other chieftains¡ªthose from the Ironhide n, Thunderstrike n, Stonefist n, Shadoww n, Fireblood n, and Frostbite n. "Send me all your chieftains at once! Let''s make this fair."


    The gathered Orcs looked at one another, disbelief etched across their faces.


    At first, they had mocked Volk, angered by his arrogance, by his audacity to im the title of chieftain without their approval. But now, after seeing what he had done to the Bloodfang chieftain, they hesitated.


    There was a new respect in their eyes, one mingled with fear.


    "Is he serious?" muttered a Thunderstrike warrior, his voice barely a whisper. "All of our chieftains... at once?"


    "He''s mad," an Ironhide warrior said, shaking his head. "But... did you see what he did? He took down the Bloodfang chieftain without even breaking a sweat."


    One of the Shadoww Orcs, his eyes narrowed in thought, grunted in agreement. "Maybe he can do it. Maybe he''s that strong."


    The chieftains themselves exchanged nces, their expressions a mix of anger and uncertainty.


    None of them wanted to admit it, but Volk had proven himself to be far more dangerous than they had anticipated.


    Finally, after a long, tense silence, the chieftain of the Ironhide n stepped forward, his face grim.


    "If you want all of us, Dreadmaw n, then you''ll have us." His voice was steady, though there was an underlying tension in his words. He nodded to the other chieftains, signaling them to step forward as well.


    One by one, the other chieftains stepped forward, their eyes locked on Volk.


    They were no longer mocking him.


    Now, they were preparing for war.


    Volk''s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. This was exactly what he wanted.


    "Good," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Let''s see if all of you together can fare better than your friend here."


    And with that, the stage was set.


    The chieftains of the most powerful Orc ns stepped forward, ready to face Volk as one.


    The tension in the cavern reached its peak, and all the Orcs knew¡ªthis was going to be a battle they would never forget.

 Chapter 112: Hand to Hand combat

    The cavern was a vast, shadowy expanse, lit only by the faint glimmer of the runes that adorned the walls.


    The atmosphere of the catb was suffocating now, every Orc present holding their breath as they waited for what was about to unfold.


    The sound of heavy boots echoed through the cave as the chieftains of all the Orc ns stepped forward, their eyes locked on Volk.


    Volk stood in the center, his broad chest rising and falling steadily, his eyes glinting with cold amusement.


    He began to stretch, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he extended his arms and rolled his shoulders.


    Kichick! Kichick!


    There was an eerie calm about him, as though the battle that was about to begin was nothing more than a casual exercise.


    "Finally," Volk said, his voice breaking the silence, "I can have a good workout."


    The words, spoken with such confidence, sent a ripple through the crowd.


    The assembled Orcs of each n¡ªBloodfang, Ironhide, Thunderstrike, Stonefist, Shadoww, Fireblood, and Frostbite¡ªflinched.


    If he had said that earlier, they would haveughed at him, mocked him for his arrogance. But now, after witnessing his effortless domination of the Bloodfang chieftain, they took him seriously.


    So no oneughed this time.


    The chieftains, however, weren''t so easily cowed.


    They exchanged nces, each of them nodded in a seemingly silent agreement.


    One by one, they began to strip off their armor, the heavy tes falling to the ground with resounding ngs that echoed through the cavern.


    The Orc warriors of each n watched in confusion as their leaders discarded their protection, but the chieftains had made their decision.


    "We''ll fight hand-to-hand," one of the chieftains growled, his voice thick with resolve. "You don''t need that fancy armor slowing us down."


    They had seen the speed with which Volk moved¡ªunhindered, unburdened by heavy armor.


    The Bloodfang chieftain had worn full te, and it had only slowed him down, making him an easy target for Volk''s quick, precise movements.


    The other chieftains wanted no such disadvantage.


    They wanted to face Volk on equal footing, at least in that regard.


    Volk chuckled softly, watching the armor hit the ground.


    The sound of metal crashing against the stone floor was almostical to him. He admired their spirit, but he couldn''t help butugh at the absurdity of it all.


    These chieftains, even without their armor, were still clinging to the idea that they could defeat him.


    "You really think it''ll make a difference?" Volk asked, his voice carrying across the cavern as he flexed his hands into fists. "Very well. Let''s see what you''ve got."


    The chieftains, now stripped down to their bare muscle, spread out around Volk, circling him like predators.


    Their massive green bodies, covered in scars from countless battles, were tense with anticipation.


    They were out for blood, their eyes burning with the fierce determination of warriors who refused to back down.


    Thud! Thud! Thud!


    The ground shook slightly beneath their feet as they moved in unison, their boots pounding against the stone floor.


    "Here we go!" one of the chieftains bellowed, his voice a thunderous roar that reverberated through the cavern.


    The others echoed his cry, their voices blending together in a cacophony of war chants and battle cries.


    Then, in one violent motion, they surged forward as one, their massive fists swinging toward Volk with brutal speed.


    Volk''s eyes gleamed with anticipation as he crouched slightly, his body coiled like a spring. "Come," he said, his voice calm, almost inviting.


    The first blow came from his left¡ªan Ironhide chieftain''s fist the size of a boulder, aimed directly at Volk''s head.


    Whoosh!


    Volk ducked, the massive fist passing over his head by mere inches. Without missing a beat, he sidestepped another chieftain''s charge, his footwork smooth and precise, as if he was dancing through their attacks.


    Thwack!


    Volk''s palm shot out, mming into the chest of the Thunderstrike chieftain, sending him stumbling back with a grunt.


    He spun around just in time to block a punch aimed at his ribs from the Fireblood chieftain, his forearm absorbing the blow with a resounding crack.


    The force of the impact would have shattered the bones of any normal Orc, but Volk stood firm, barely flinching.


    The chieftains roared in frustration, attacking him from all sides.


    Their fists flew through the air, their bodies lunging toward him with reckless abandon. But Volk was always one step ahead.


    He moved like a shadow, slipping between their strikes with ease, his body twisting and turning in ways that defied the brute force of their attacks.


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    Smack!


    Volk''s elbow connected with the jaw of the Frostbite chieftain, sending him crashing to the ground with a loud thud.


    The Stonefist chieftain came in next, his fists swinging like hammers, but Volk deflected each blow with effortless grace, pushing therger Orc back with a well-ced shove to the chest.


    For every punch thrown, Volk had a counter.


    For every charge, he had an escape.


    He was untouchable, his movements destructive  and precise, as though he could predict their attacks before they even happened.


    It was as if he was toying with them, letting them exhaust themselves while he remained untouched.


    Crack!


    Volk''s knee mmed into the side of the Ironhide chieftain''s ribs, sending him sprawling to the floor.


    Before the others could react, Volk spun on his heel, and his fist crashed into the Thunderstrike chieftain''s gut, knocking the wind out of him with a single blow.


    "You''re slow," Volk said, dodging another punch from the Fireblood chieftain. His voice was calm, almost bored. "Is this the best you''ve got?"


    The other Orcs in the cavern watched in stunned silence.


    At first, they had expected Volk to go down quickly.


    After all, he was up against the chieftains of the most powerful Orc ns, each of them a veteran warrior with years of battle experience. But as time passed, their disbelief turned into something else¡ªwonder, and then horror.


    "Is this really happening?" whispered one of the Shadoww warriors, his eyes wide with shock.


    "He''s... he''s not even breaking a sweat," another Orc muttered, his voice trembling with disbelief.


    "Look at him," an older Dreadmaw warrior said, shaking his head in awe. "He''s toying with them like what he did to the Bloodfang n chieftain."


    The chieftains, for all their strength and fury, were growing desperate.


    Their bodies were drenched in sweat, their muscles straining as they threw punch after punch, but Volk remained untouchable.


    He moved like a ghost, his body a blur of motion as he evaded their strikes, his feet barely touching the ground.


    Bam!


    Volk''s fist connected with the jaw of the Shadoww chieftain, sending him crashing into the Stonefist chieftain, both of them copsing in a heap on the floor.


    "You''re all disappointing me," Volk said, his voice dripping with disdain as he threw the Fireblood chieftain across the room with a casual flick of his wrist. "I expected more from the leaders of the great Orc ns."


    The chieftains, panting and exhausted, began to falter.


    Their attacks grew sloppy, their movements slower.


    They were tiring, while Volk seemed as fresh as ever, his energy untouched.


    Suddenly, without warning, the chieftains stepped back, all of them retreating at once, their chests heaving as they gasped for air.


    They looked at each other, their faces a mix of frustration and confusion. Why had they stepped back? What were they waiting for?


    Volk straightened, watching them with narrowed eyes. "What''s the matter?" he asked, his voice mocking. "Tired already?"


    But the chieftains didn''t answer.


    They stood there, their fists clenched, their eyes darting toward one another as though waiting for something, or someone, to make the next move.

 Chapter 113: Shamanic Abilities

    As the chieftains of the Orc ns stood in a semicircle around Volk, Volk could sense and see with eyes that their chests were heaving deep.


    Their sweat glistened on their thick, battle-scarred green skinned bodies, making a strange tension.


    Each of them looked at the others, as if silently agreeing that brute strength alone wasn''t going to be enough.


    "Can we use... shamanism?"


    The Bloodfang chieftain, still recovering from his earlier defeat, broke the silence, his voice hoarse and thick with exhaustion.


    Volk''s brow furrowed slightly.


    "Shamanism?"


    He blinked, confused for a moment.


    Magic? He had almost forgotten that the Orc ns practiced what they called shamanism¡ªtheir way of conjuring powerful magic through rituals and ancient runes.


    Volk''s lips curled into a smirk. "Use whatever you like. Do everything you can against me."


    The chieftains, though breathing heavily, grinned wickedly, Volk noticed their eyes gleamed as if it was renewed the hope that shamanism would turn the tide.


    Suddenly, Volk felt the ground trembled as they spread their legs, bracing themselves.


    Magic circles began to glow in their hands¡ªeach one different, reflecting the ancient power of their respective ns.


    The Bloodfang chieftain was the first to act. His magic circle pulsed with a violent red hue, and his body seemed to radiate heat.


    "Feel the blood of the hunt, Volk!" he roared, his voice a guttural growl. His skin darkened to a deep crimson, and his muscles swelled, veins popping out as he charged forward with unnatural speed, his fist glowing with the fire of his rage.


    Whoosh!


    Volk sidestepped the attack, narrowly avoiding the Bloodfang''s fiery punch. He could feel the intense heat pass by his face, the air crackling from the power.


    BAM!


    Before Volk could fully recover from the dodge, another chieftain¡ªthis time from the Frostbite nunched an icy projectile at him. "Cold as death itself, Volk! Feel the chill!" the Frostbite chieftain shouted, his eyes glowing a fierce blue as his magic circle shimmered like frost on the wind.


    The icy shard mmed into Volk''s chest with a loud crack. He stumbled back, feeling the freezing cold bite into his skin, but when he looked down, he saw only a faint scratch on his chest.


    The Frostbite chieftain''s eyes widened in shock. "Impossible," he whispered, frozen in ce. "That should''ve pierced through him like an ice spike..."


    Volk, surprised himself, muttered under his breath. "Is my body really this strong?"


    The chieftains weren''t done yet.


    The Thunderstrike chieftain was next. His magic circle sparked with electric fury, and arcs of lightning danced across his body.


    "Swift as the storm!" he yelled, thrusting his palm forward.


    CRACK!


    A bolt of lightning shot from his hand, zigzagging toward Volk with blinding speed.


    Instinctively, Volk twisted out of the way, his movements fluid. But even his speed wasn''t enough to fully evade the attack.


    The lightning bolt grazed his side, sending a shock of pain through his body. His muscles tensed involuntarily as the electricity coursed through him.


    Volk gritted his teeth. The pain was sharp, but fleeting. He flexed his arm, shaking off the residual tingling. "That''s it?" he taunted, though in truth, the attack had stung more than he wanted to admit.


    "Enough games!" bellowed the Ironhide chieftain, his voice deep and booming. His magic circle was dark, pulsating with the power of the earth itself.


    His skin hardened into a metallic sheen, reflecting the dim light of the cavern. He mmed his fists together with a deafening CLANG, and the ground beneath Volk''s feet trembled. "Iron will crush you!"


    BOOM!


    A massive shockwave erupted from the Ironhide chieftain''s fists, sending chunks of rock flying in all directions.


    Volk braced himself, crossing his arms in front of his face.


    KABAAM!


    The force of the shockwave mmed into him, knocking him backward. His feet skidded across the stone floor, but he stayed upright, his arms trembling slightly from the impact.


    "Grrr... That was a good one," Volk muttered, his muscles burning from the strain. He could feel bruises forming under his skin.


    Still, he remained standing, his gaze unwavering.


    "Feel the earth break!" shouted the Stonefist chieftain, stepping forward. His magic circle, a deep brown, glowed fiercely as his fists erged to twice their normal size.


    He mmed them into the ground, creating fissures that snaked toward Volk.


    CRACK!


    The stone beneath Volk''s feet exploded upward, jagged shards of rockunching toward him.


    Volk leaped into the air, narrowly avoiding the devastating blow. But just as hended, another chieftain attacked.


    WHOOSH!


    From the shadows, the Shadoww chieftain emerged, his magic circle shimmering with a dark, ghostly light.


    "You cannot dodge what you cannot see, Dreadmaw chief!" he hissed.


    His hands moved in swift, fluid motions, and a wave of shadowy tendrils shot out from his fingers, wrapping around Volk''s legs and arms.


    Volk grunted, struggling to free himself as the shadows tightened around him like chains. But with a surge of power, he ripped through them, shattering the shadowy bonds with sheer force.


    The Shadoww chieftain''s eyes widened in disbelief, his body momentarily frozen in ce.


    "Not bad," Volk said, flexing his fingers, "but not good enough."


    "Burn him to ash!" roared the Fireblood chieftain, his magic circle ring to life with a fiery red glow.


    mes erupted from his hands, swirling into a massive fireball that roared toward Volk.


    BOOM!


    The fireball exploded on impact, engulfing Volk in a raging inferno.


    For a moment, all that could be seen was the wall of fire, crackling and spitting embers into the air.


    The Orcs watching from the sidelines gasped, their eyes wide with shock. "Did... did they get him?" one of them muttered, squinting through the smoke.


    But as the mes died down, Volk stood there¡ªhis skin ckened in ces, but still standing. His breathing was heavier now, his chest rising and falling rapidly.


    His body was covered in bruises, and the heat from the fire still lingered on his skin, but he remained on his feet.


    Volk nced down at his hands, feeling the faint sting of the burns. "So, this is what shamanism can do," he murmured, a hint of surprise in his voice.


    He looked up at the chieftains, and they could see his expression finally hardened. "You''ve got power, I''ll give you that. But not enough."


    The chieftains exchanged nervous nces.


    They had thrown everything they had at him¡ªfire, ice, lightning, earth, shadows¡ªand yet Volk still stood. His body, though battered and bruised, had withstood theirbined onught.


    "You... you can''t be serious," the Bloodfang chieftain muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. His once confident demeanor was now tinged with fear.


    The Thunderstrike chieftain clenched his fists, his eyes wide with disbelief. "How... how is this possible?"


    Volk took a step forward, and the ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet. His muscles ached, and his body was covered in cuts and bruises, but his spirit remained unbroken.


    He cracked his neck, the sound echoing through the cavern. "You wanted to use shamanism? Fine. But it wasn''t enough."


    The Orcs around the cavern began to murmur amongst themselves.


    What they had just witnessed was something they had never seen before¡ªa lone warrior standing against thebined might of the strongest chieftains and surviving.


    Volk grinned, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He spat onto the ground, his eyes still gleaming with that same cold, confident light. "Is that all?" he asked, his voice steady, though his body was clearly showing signs of strain.


    The chieftains, exhausted and bruised, took a step back.


    Their magic had failed.


    Theirbined power had not brought him down.


    Volk, though breathing heavily, was still standing tall. "Now... It''s my turn"

 Chapter 114 : Orc Formation

    Suddenly, without warning, Volk''s knee buckled beneath him, and he dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.


    The sound echoed ominously through the chamber, bouncing off the stone walls like a warning.


    For a moment, he was confused. His body, though battered and bruised, had endured the chieftains'' magical onught. But now, his legs trembled, refusing to support him.


    The gathered Orcs of each n stiffened.


    Their eyes darted between each other, uncertain.


    The chieftains, still heaving withbored breaths, exchanged nces.


    Slowly, a cruel smirk spread across the Bloodfang chieftain''s face. He straightened up, despite his own exhaustion, and nodded to the others.


    "Let''s do it. The Orc Formation," the Bloodfang chieftain muttered darkly, his voice low and full of deadly intent.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed. He nted his hands firmly on the ground, pushing himself back to his feet, but his muscles screamed in protest.


    "Orc Formation?" he asked, his toneced with suspicion. The name sounded unfamiliar, even to him.


    Before he could demand an answer, an old, grizzled Orc from the Dreadmaw n stumbled forward, his face twisted with panic.


    His hands shook as he gestured wildly at Volk, his voice rising to a terrified shout.


    "No! Volk, you don''t understand!" the old Orc cried, his voice breaking from urgency. His eyes darted toward the chieftains, who were now gathering in a loose circle, their hands already glowing with power.


    "The Orc Formation¡­ it''s not something you can fight against! It''s a spell¡ªa forbidden magic created long ago by the Orc ns to face foes that no single warrior could defeat. It''s the only way we could bring down enemies like Warlocks and Dark Elven Witches."


    Volk, still on one knee, clenched his jaw. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn''t respond as they should. His eyes flickered between the old Orc and the chieftains, who now moved in precise, synchronized steps.


    "They''rebining their strength, Volk!" the old Orc shouted, his voice trembling.


    "When the Orc Formation isplete, they''ll summon a spell so powerful it can strike both body and spirit! You don''t understand¡ªno enemy has ever survived it!"


    The words hit Volk like a hammer from the sky.


    Strike both body and spirit?


    He began to knit the knot. He could withstand the physical attacks, that much he knew. But if they were targeting his spirit, even his Grum-gar Ogre form wouldn''t protect him.


    The weight of the old Orc''s warning settled heavily on his chest.


    "Run, Volk!" the old Orc urged, his voice cracking with desperation. "You have to get out of here! No one can survive the Orc Formation! Not even you! Not even in your Ogre form!"


    The urgency in the old Orc''s voice wed at Volk''s resolve.


    He had never heard this old man speak in such a frantic tone.


    His heart pounded against his ribcage, his breathing shallow as adrenaline coursed through his veins. His instincts screamed at him to run, to retreat before it was toote.


    But before he could move, before he could even attempt to escape, the Ironhide chieftain, his body still gleaming with his hardened iron skin, thrust his hands into the air.


    His magic circle red to life, and chains of glowing energy erupted from the ground, wrapping around Volk''s wrists and ankles with a loud crack.


    "Bind him!" the Ironhide chieftain shouted, his voice filled with venomous glee.


    The chains tightened with a force that made Volk grunt in pain.


    He strained against them, his muscles bulging as he tried to break free, but the more he struggled, the tighter the chains became.


    Every second that passed was like a vice mping down harder and harder.


    Volk''s breathing became more ragged as he fought against the binding magic. His eyes widened with a mixture of disbelief and anger.


    How could these chieftains, who just moments ago had been on the edge of defeat, suddenly trap him so easily?


    His body trembled as he pulled against the chains, but the magic was too strong.


    The old Orc from the Dreadmaw n shouted again, his voice a frantic screech now. "Volk! You can''t break free! No one ever has! Run if you can, break the chains!"


    But Volk was trapped.


    The magic held him fast, and all around him, the chieftains moved in unison, their magic circles glowing brighter and brighter with each passing second.


    As the energy around them intensified, the air in the chamber grew thick with the pulsating hum of raw power.


    The Frostbite chieftain, his hands glowing with a blue icy aura, raised his arms high above his head. "Let the cold embrace your spirit!" he howled, and a sphere of freezing energy began to form above him.


    Next to him, the Thunderstrike chieftain smirked, electricity crackling between his fingertips. "I''ll light the path to your doom!" he roared, sending tendrils of lightning to join the swirling mass of magic.


    The Fireblood chieftain, fire zing in his eyes, clenched his fists as mes erupted from his hands.


    "Burn in the fire of our fury, Volk!" he bellowed, his voice full of malice as a swirling orb of me joined the growing magic ball.


    One by one, the chieftains of each n poured their remaining mana into the magic orb at the center of their formation.


    It grewrger, brighter, more chaotic with every passing moment.


    Volk could feel the heat from it, the sheer power radiating outward like an unstoppable storm.


    Despite the chains binding him, Volk continued to struggle. His muscles screamed in agony as he tried to tear himself free, but the magic held him fast.


    The weight of the energy in the air pressed down on him like a mountain.


    The old Orc from Dreadmaw watched in horror, his face pale as he shouted one final time, "Volk, get out of there! You can''t take this! You''ll die¡ªbody and spirit!"


    But Volk, despite the panic gripping his mind, forced himself to focus. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the rising fear in his chest.


    His eyes locked on the massive orb of magic energy, now crackling with power as it hovered above the chieftains.


    He couldn''t run. He couldn''t break free. But something deep inside him refused to give up. His breathing slowed, and a strange calm settled over him.


    If this was how it was going to be, then he''d face it head-on.


    The chieftains roared in unison as they hurled the magic energy ball toward Volk. It tore through the air like a meteor, leaving a trail of fire, ice, and lightning in its wake.


    WHOOSH!


    Time seemed to slow as the massive ball of magic hurtled toward him.


    Every instinct screamed at him to brace for the impact, to prepare for the pain, the destruction. But instead of fear, something unexpected happened.


    Volk smiled.


    As the zing magic energy roared closer, its heat scorching his skin, Volk''s lips curled into a calm, confident grin.


    He could feel the power of the spell all over his face and chest, the sheer force of it nearly overwhelming. But at that moment, he wasn''t afraid.


    Instead of being afraid, he would suddenly show a confident smile.

 Chapter 115 : Look behind you

    BOOM!


    The ground quaked, sending tremors through the earth.


    The sound of the explosion was deafening¡ªa violent eruption that roared through the air like a beast unleashed.


    A st wave tore across the field, ttening the tall grass and sending a cloud of dust and debris high into the cave ceiling.


    It was as if the very cave itself had ripped open for a few moments, vomiting forth fire, smoke, and destruction.


    The energy of the st crackled with arcs of lightning, sizzling through the air as mes and icy shards mixed, creating a chaotic storm that consumed everything in its path.


    A shockwave pulsed outward, hammering against the chieftains and the watching ns.


    The sheer force of the explosion knocked a few of the weaker Orcs off their feet, while others staggered back, shielding their eyes from the blinding light.


    Crackling!


    Whoosh!


    The sound of magic dissolving into the atmosphere hissed ominously, leaving behind the scent of scorched earth and burning metal.


    The ground where Volk had stood was now a crater, its edges jagged and ckened, as if wed by some great beast.


    The air shimmered with heat, and the area was obscured by thick plumes of smoke, rising in twisting spirals.


    For a long moment, everything was still.


    The chieftains stood frozen in ce.


    The Bloodfang leader, his breath ragged, watched the smoke with wide, unblinking eyes.


    His massive chest heaved with each breath, his body drenched in sweat and mana exhaustion.


    The others¡ªIronhide, Thunderstrike, Stonefist, and the rest¡ªwere simrly paralyzed.


    Their eyes flickered between the smoldering crater and each other, as if unsure of what they had just done.


    The gathered ns, too, had fallen into a stunned silence.


    The warriors of the Dreadmaw n stood rigid, their mouths slightly open, shock etched into their expressions.


    Their young representative¡ªVolk, their rising star¡ªhad taken the brunt of the st.


    There was no sign of him, no movement from the crater.


    Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, as though the earth itself waited to see if Volk had survived.


    But nothing moved.


    A heavy, oppressive stillness nketed the battlefield.


    It was a silence so thick it felt suffocating, wrapping itself around the throat of every Orc present.


    The only sound was the distant crackling of dissipating magic and the asional shifting of rocks falling from the edges of the crater.


    The air itself seemed frozen in time, the atmosphere heavy with an eerie sense of finality.


    A few of the younger Orcs shifted ufortably, their eyes wide with disbelief, but none dared to speak.


    Then, from the stillness, a sound broke the quiet.


    "Haha¡­"


    It was a soft, breathy chuckle at first. The voice was weak, strained from exertion, but unmistakable.


    The Bloodfang chieftain, still kneeling on the ground, wiped the sweat from his brow and exhaled shakily.


    He took another deep breath, his chest trembling, thenughed again, but he was louder this time.


    "Haha¡­ Hahahaha¡­"


    Hisughter grew, building like a storm gathering strength.


    Soon, the sound was no longer a mere chuckle but a full-bodied roar of amusement.


    "HAHAHAHAHAHA!"


    The other chieftains turned to look at him, confusion etched across their faces. But then, as if a spell had been cast over them, they, too, began tough.


    "Haha¡­ Hahahahaha!" the Ironhide chieftain joined in, clutching his sides as he doubled over. "Hahahaha! HAHAHAHA!"


    One by one, the others followed suit.


    Thunderstrike threw his head back, hisughter sharp and piercing, almost hysterical.


    The Stonefist chieftain''s deep, gutturalugh echoed through the valley, shaking his massive frame with each heaving breath.


    "Hahahaha! HAHAHAHA!"


    Theughter spread like wildfire, uncontroble and infectious.


    The other Orcs of each n, still caught between shock and disbelief, slowly began to grin, their grim faces cracking into sneers of amusement.


    "Warchief?!"


    The Bloodfang chieftain spat the word, his voice dripping with mockery. He pounded the ground with his fist, tears ofughter streaming down his face.


    "This fool really thought he could challenge us all and call himself Warchief? HAHAHAHAHA!"


    "He''s gone now!" the Ironhide chieftain bellowed, wiping his mouth as he shook withughter.


    "So much for the mighty Volk! He couldn''t even survive a single spell, and he called himself Warchief? What arrogance! What a joke!"


    The Thunderstrike chieftain, barely able to stand fromughing, pointed toward the crater.


    "Where''s your Warchief now, Dreadmaw? Huh? HAHAHAHA! He bit off more than he could chew and now¡­ he''s nothing but ash!"


    They jeered, their voices rising with gleeful malice.


    "Look at them! Silent as corpses!" the Stonefist chieftain sneered, jabbing a finger toward the Dreadmaw n. "Your young warrior challenged us and now he''s dead! How shameful!"


    "He may have been strong, but he was a fool!" The Frostbite chieftain''s cold voice rang out, hisughter quieter but no less cruel.


    "Thinking he could take us all on like that? What madness possessed him? HAHA! Look at your Warchief now! He''s nothing!"


    The older members of the Dreadmaw n hung their heads in shame, their faces flushed with embarrassment.


    Their representative had indeed been powerful, but they hadn''t expected such recklessness.


    The weight of the chieftains'' scorn pressed down on them, heavy and unbearable.


    Each mocking word was like a hammer to their pride, shattering their confidence.


    But amid the jeers and ridicule, one group remained eerily calm¡ªthe younger generation of the Dreadmaw n.


    They stood in quiet, unwavering silence.


    There was no shame in their eyes, no fear or uncertainty. Instead, they seemed to be watching the scene with an almost knowing expression, as if they were waiting for something.


    Their confidence was unsettling in the face of such mockery.


    The Thunderstrike chieftain noticed this and sneered, pointing at them with a mocking grin.


    "And what about you, young Dreadmaw?" he shouted.


    "Why are you so silent? Do you still believe in your Warchief, even after all this? Are you blind to reality? Your leader is gone!"


    The young Dreadmaw Orcs exchanged nces, unperturbed by the taunts.


    Their silence stretched on, they were unbroken and unaffected by the jeering of the Orc ns.


    But then, one of them stepped forward.


    He was tall and lean, his eyes sharp with rity and purpose. His face was calm,posed¡ªalmost serene.


    Theughter of the chieftains faltered as they watched him approach.


    The young Orc stopped a few paces away, his expression unwavering as he turned to face the chieftains.


    He spoke quietly at first, his voice cutting through the lingeringughter like a de through the air.


    "Don''t celebrate too early."


    The chieftains blinked, confusion shing across their faces.


    The young Orc''s voice was steady, firm, as if he knew something they didn''t.


    Theughter began to die down, curiosity and uncertainty recing the previous mocking tones.


    The young Orc gestured toward the crater, his voice steady but cold.


    "Look behind you."


    The chieftains froze.


    Their mocking sneers faded, reced by wide-eyed confusion and, for the first time since the battle had begun, a flicker of doubt.


    Slowly, as if gripped by some primal instinct, they turned to look over their shoulders.


    The smoke was still thick, swirling and twisting in the air. But as it slowly cleared, a shadowy figure began to emerge from the darkness, standing tall amidst the rubble.


    Soon, the dust settled, revealing a familiar silhouette¡ªone that should not have been there.


    Volk stood, bruised and battered but very much alive.


    His lips curled into a faint smile.


    The chieftains'' eyes widened in disbelief, their bodies stiffening as they realized their mistake.


    Volk had survived.

 Chapter 116: Warchief

    The air was still thick with violent tension as Volk stood amidst the clearing smoke, his bruised and battered body a testament to the battle.


    Yet, there was an undeniable confidence in his posture, his calm expression almost mocking the chieftains who had believed him defeated just moments ago.


    He slowly lifted his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist as if testing his strength.


    ck! ck! ck!


    The silence of disbelief was broken by the first murmur among the chieftains.


    "H-How¡­?" The Bloodfang chieftain''s voice trembled, the disbelief clear in his bloodshot eyes. "How did he¡ª?"


    Another chieftain, from the Stonefist n, growled in frustration. His massive fists clenched at his sides, veins bulging in his neck.


    "Impossible! He should have been crushed!"


    The Frostbite chieftain, his face pale and ashen, red at Volk. "No one survives the Orc Formation. No one!" His voice was rising, a mix of fear and confusion.


    "How did he escape?"


    They all stared at Volk, their minds racing, trying toprehend what had just happened.


    This was supposed to be the end.


    The Orc Formation was the ultimate spell, an ancient technique designed to overpower even the strongest of foes.


    It had toppled warlocks and witches, shattered the defenses of armies, and yet¡­ here stood Volk, seemingly untouched.


    The Thunderstrike chieftain spat on the ground in frustration. "What sorcery is this? What trick did you use to survive?"


    Volk, his eyes gleaming with calm amusement, slowly raised his head to meet their stares.


    He cracked his neck, the bones popping audibly, before speaking in a low, measured tone.


    "Did you all forget the battle I had with Grounad before we entered the catbs?"


    The chieftains exchanged confused nces. The Bloodfang chieftain frowned, scratching his head. "What are you talking about? That fight was nothingpared to¡ª"


    But Volk interrupted, his voice smooth but sharp.


    "Do you remember what happened when Tomorrowhawk Bull charged at me? I vanished. Right in front of him. The bull you sent to trample me was redirected because I wasn''t where I appeared to be."


    The Bloodfang chieftain blinked, his face ckening with realization. "The¡­ the bull..."


    From the Ironhide chieftain''s side, a deep, guttural gasp escaped. His eyes widened, and his mouth quivered. "Y-You¡­ you¡­?"


    Volk''s lips curled into a knowing smile. He nodded, his eyes locking onto the Ironhide chieftain''s, making the older warrior visibly flinch.


    "That''s right. I sidestepped. I''ve been able to disappear from one ce and reappear instantly somewhere else for quite some time now. I only let you believe your attacks hit me."


    The Ironhide chieftain stumbled back a step, his face drained of color. "You¡­ tricked us¡­"


    The realization was dawning on the rest of the chieftains like a slow-moving storm.


    They had all believed their Orc Formation had hit its mark, that Volk had taken the full brunt of the attack. But it had all been an borate ruse.


    "He let us think we won," the Fireblood chieftain muttered under his breath, his fiery eyes narrowing with frustration. "He lured us into using the Formation¡­"


    "And we walked right into it," growled the Thunderstrike chieftain. His lips curled into a snarl, but the rage in his eyes couldn''t hide the fear that was creeping in.


    Volk took a slow, deliberate step forward. His presence was overwhelming,manding. "I wanted you to use it," he said, his voice cold but calm.


    "I wanted to see if the great Orc chieftains could actually challenge me. But you''re all fools." He turned his gaze to the Ironhide chieftain, his smile widening. "Especially you."


    The Ironhide chieftain''s knees buckled, and he slumped to the ground, his body trembling.


    His iron skin, once a symbol of his n''s invincibility, now seemed like a brittle shell. He lowered his head in defeat, the words barely escaping his throat.


    "I... I was wrong." His voice cracked, filled with regret and shame. "I, Grulg Irond, chieftain of the Ironhide n, acknowledge you, Volk, as our true Warchief."


    There was a stunned silence as the other chieftains looked at the Ironhide leader.


    The man who had been a symbol of strength was now bowing to Volk.


    One by one, the realization that they had no other choice washed over them.


    The Bloodfang chieftain clenched his teeth, but after a long pause, he too lowered his head. "I am Kaarg Bloodfang, chieftain of the Bloodfang n. From this day, Volk is my Warchief."


    The Fireblood chieftain sighed, his voice bitter. "I am Raal Fireblood. Volk¡­ is my Warchief."


    The chieftains, one by one, admitted their defeat, their voices heavy with resignation.


    The Frostbite, Thunderstrike, Stonefist¡ªeach chieftain announced their loyalty to Volk, some with bitterness, others with reluctant admiration.


    As the final words of submission echoed in the catbs, Volk remained unmoved.


    His eyes scanned the defeated chieftains, each one broken, bruised, and mentally shattered. Yet, despite their acknowledgments, his expression remained cold. He didn''t care for their words.


    They were just that¡ªwords. And words weren''t enough to satisfy him.


    Volk''s hands clenched into fists once more, the sound of his knuckles cracking like a whip in the silence.


    ck! ck! ck!


    The chieftains flinched at the noise, their bodies tense with uncertainty.


    "We¡­ we''ve acknowledged you!" the Thunderstrike chieftain stammered, his voiceced with panic. "What more do you want?"


    Volk took another step forward, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "What more do I want? Oh, you misunderstand. You see¡­ I''m not done yet."


    The chieftains exchanged fearful nces. The Ironhide chieftain, still kneeling on the ground, looked up at Volk with pleading eyes.


    "But¡­ but we''ve given you our loyalty! You are our Warchief now! What are you nning?"


    Volk''s gaze hardened. "I''m not satisfied," he said tly, his voice low and dangerous. "I received a lot of injuries because of you."


    A chill ran down the spines of the chieftains.


    The blood drained from their faces as the realization of what Volk intended settled in.


    Their confidence crumbled, reced by sheer, unadulterated terror.


    "You¡­ you can''t be serious¡­" the Stonefist chieftain whispered, his voice barely audible.


    "Oh, I''m serious," Volk replied, his voice dripping with cold malice. "Very serious."


    The Fireblood chieftain took a step back, his hands trembling as the fear became visible in his eyes. "We¡­ we''ve already surrendered! You don''t need to do this!"


    Volk''s smile returned, but it was anything but friendly. "But I¡­" he paused at first, then continued, "WANT to."


    And with that, the cave was immediately filled with the sickening sound of bones cracking and the helpless screams of the chieftains.


    The once-proud leaders of the Orc ns, who had mocked and jeered at Volk, now writhed in agony as he delivered his judgment.


    Their screams echoed through the catb, their voices blending together into a haunting chorus of pain and fear.


    The stone walls reverberated with their cries, the sound carrying far and wide.


    Outside, the Orcs from every n stood frozen in horror, their faces pale as the realization of what was happening inside the chamber sank in.


    For a moment, it felt as if the catbs themselves hade alive, feeding off the agony and despair that filled the air.


    The younger generation of the Dreadmaw n, who had stood in silent confidence throughout, did not flinch.


    They watched, their eyes cold and calcting, knowing that this was the moment Volk had truly solidified his ce as Warchief.


    The screams continued, long and unrelenting, until finally, they were silenced.

 Chapter 117: We will get out

    Volk sat on a jagged stone, his back resting against the rough wall of the catb, cradling a small, crude bottle of healing potion in his hand.


    The dim glow of the subterranean chamber illuminated his broad, muscr frame, highlighting the deep bruises and cuts that adorned his body.


    With a slight move, he uncorked the bottle and poured the thick liquid into his mouth.


    Its bitter taste made him wince, but he weed the sensation as the soothing warmth of the potion coursed through his veins, knitting his wounds together.


    His eyes flicked upward toward the system screen, visible only to him.


    Ding!


    | Mission: Challenge and defeat all the remaining Orc ns to work under the Dreadmaw n.


    | Status: Completed.


    | Rewards: Getting out of the Dungeon.


    | Time: Please wait for three hours. |


    A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Volk''s lips. "One hour, huh?" he muttered to himself.


    The thought of finally leaving the dungeon filled him with a strange mix of relief and anticipation.


    He stretched his sore muscles, feeling the faint twinge of pain as his body recovered from the brutal battle with the chieftains.


    Suddenly, a familiar presence loomed over him, and he nced up to see Grounad approaching, his hulking form casting a long shadow across the chamber.


    The old Orc, with his battle-scarred face and mischievous grin, chuckled as he stepped closer.


    "I never expected ya to challenge all the chieftains so fast," Grounad said with a heartyugh, his tusks glinting in the dim light. "Thought you''d take yer time, maybe get a few more victories under yer belt."


    Volk leaned his head back against the stone wall, his expression calm. "Thanks to you," he replied, his voice steady. He remembered the conversation they had earlier, when he was on a mission to retrieve the crystal and put his blood in it.


    Back then, Volk had asked Grounad what he knew about each n, learning the nuances and strengths of each group. But as they spoke, the conversation had turned to something more intriguing.


    Grounad had revealed, with a grin, how one bes a Warchief. "Challenge all the chieftains at once," he''d said,ughing as if it were a joke, never expecting Volk to take it seriously.


    "I didn''t forget," Volk said now, his gaze locking with Grounad''s. "You told me how to be a Warchief. I knew it was only a matter of time."


    Grounad barked anotherugh, his rough voice echoing through the chamber. "Yeah, well, I didn''t think you''d do it this fast. Damn, Volk, you''re full of surprises!"


    Volk shrugged, his tone nonchnt. "Circumstances forced my hand."


    As they sat there, surrounded by the eerie quiet of the catbs, Grounad''s expression softened. He sat beside Volk, his massive frame settling onto the cold stone.


    "You know, this reminds me of my wife," he began, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone.


    Volk raised an eyebrow but said nothing, allowing the older Orc to continue.


    "Mishina¡­" Grounad began, his eyes distant, as if he were gazing through time itself. "She wasn''t like the other Orc women. Nah, she had somethin'' about her¡ªan Elven elegance, if ya could believe it.


    "I met her when I was younger, long before the other ns came together to this forest. We Orcs¡­ we had a peace with the Elves back then. Our worlds crossed more often. She was part of an Elven delegation sent to the Bloodfangs for a peace treaty."


    Grounad paused, his fingers tracing the scars on his arm, each one a reminder of battles fought and survived.


    "I saw her from across the courtyard. All pale skin and golden hair¡­ somethin'' so foreign to us Orcs, but she had this fire in her eyes. Stubborn, proud, and damn, she could hold her own in a fight.


    "We shed once, durin'' a demonstration match. The others were just yin'' around, but Mishina¡­ she gave me a real challenge. I''ve never respected someone so much."


    He smiled, his sharp tusks showing as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I knew right then I wanted her. And somehow, against all odds, she wanted me too."


    Volk listened in silence, his eyes watching Grounad''s face as the warrior''s tough exterior softened.


    "We had a few years together. They were the best years of my life, Volk. She taught me things I never thought I''d care about¡ªhow to appreciate quiet moments, how to see the world beyond just battle and blood. I would''ve done anything for her, anything to keep her safe."


    Grounad''s voice trembled slightly. "But then¡­ the migration. The separation of the Orcs from our Elven wives. They took her from me. Said it wasn''t natural, said it wasn''t right."


    Volk''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    He could sense the pain behind Grounad''s gruff voice, the loss of something precious.


    It was a feeling Volk, despite his own hardened exterior, could understand.


    "If I knew it was gonna end like this," Grounad continued, his voice breaking, "with the ns divided and us separated from our Elven wives, I would''ve treasured every moment with her more. I''d have never let a single day go to waste."


    For a long moment, there was silence between them, the weight of Grounad''s story hanging in the air like a dense fog.


    Finally, Volk''s lips twitched into a small, almost imperceptible smirk.


    "They''ll be back soon," Volk said, his voice steady, full of quiet confidence.


    Grounad''s eyes widened. "What?" he stammered, his voice shaking with disbelief. "What do ya mean, ''they''ll be back''?"


    Volk stood up, his towering frame casting a shadow over Grounad. "Don''t ask me how. I''m not sure yet," Volk said, his voice calm and measured. "But I have a way."


    Grounad stared at him, mouth agape, the weight of Volk''s words sinking in.


    There was a glimmer of hope in his old, battle-worn eyes.


    Volk rarely spoke without purpose, and even in the short time Grounad had been with him, he had learned to trust the young Warchief''s words.


    Before Grounad could ask anything more, Volk suddenly stretched his massive arms above his head and took a deep breath, the tension in his muscles releasing.


    Then, without warning, Volk''s voice boomed through the catbs, shaking the very stone walls.


    "HOOOOOOOOORRRDDDDEEEE!!"


    The sound reverberated like thunder, jolting every Orc in the chamber from their rest.


    Heads snapped in his direction, eyes wide and alert as they turned toward their new Warchief.


    Volk grinned, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "I WANT YOU ALL TO HUNT THE CATACOMBS'' CREATURES AND FILL YOUR BELLIES!"


    The Orcs blinked, caught off guard by the suddenmand. But they knew better than to question their leader.


    Murmurs spread quickly through the crowd as they began to move, preparing for the hunt.


    Volk''s grin widened, with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.


    He could see the fire igniting in his warriors, their bloodlust reawakening as they prepared for battle once more.


    "And make it quick!" Volk shouted, his voice full ofughter. "BECAUSE IN THREE HOURS, WE WILL GET OUT OF THIS WRETCHED PLACE!"


    The Orcs were stunned, after a few seconds they all erupted in cheers, one could see their spirits lifting as the promise of freedom finally seemed within reach.


    Grounad stood beside Volk, watching with a mixture of awe and disbelief. He had never seen such amanding presence, such effortless leadership.


    As the Orcs scattered into the catbs, Volk turned to Grounad, his eyes gleaming with quiet determination.


    "Get ready," Volk said, his voice low. "Everything''s about to change. I don''t know what but it''s better to be prepared all the time."

 Chapter 118: Feast

    As the hour passed, the catb echoed with the ttering and shuffling of the Orc ns moving about.


    Volk had given themand for every n, including the Dreadmaw, to hunt.


    Only a handful of the Orcs remained behind¡ªthose skilled in preparing and cooking the meat for their eventual feast.


    The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and sweat as the ns scattered into thebyrinthine depths, searching for creatures that roamed in the darkness.


    The preparation area buzzed with activity. Fires crackled, spits were assembled, and the few Orcs left to tend the fires sharpened their knives and prepared the space for the grand meal.


    Volk, leaning casually against the rough stone wall of the catb, suddenly felt a soft pulse from the system.


    His brow furrowed as a notification screen appeared before his eyes.


    | Ding!


    | Please nt this to a ce the Host desires to open the dimensional crack. |


    He tilted his head, considering the message.


    The screen blinked out of existence, and a suspended light appeared before him, hovering just inches from his face.


    Without hesitation, Volk reached out, grasping the light in his hand.


    It was warm, pulsing with faint energy that hummed softly against his palm.


    He nced around the chamber, spotting a small, jagged gap in the stone wall to his right.


    With purposeful steps, Volk walked toward it, the suspended light still cradled in his hand.


    As he approached the wall, he crouched, observing the tiny fissure closely.


    With a steady hand, he pressed the light into the gap.


    Nothing happened.


    Volk stood there for a moment, staring at the crack in the wall.


    His eyes narrowed, one could see there was a flicker of impatience running through his head.


    He was about to turn away when he remembered the system''s instructions.


    He had two more hours to wait.


    With a grunt of frustration, Volk rose to his full height, turning on his heel to rejoin the preparations.


    The light would do its work in time.


    For now, there was food to prepare, and a horde to feed.


    He made his way back to the main chamber where the cooks were busy skinning the beasts from earlier hunts.


    The sound of knives slicing through flesh filled the air, apanied by the sizzling of meat roasting over open mes.


    ng! ng! ng!


    Volk''s stomach growled faintly, the scent of cooking food making his mouth water. But before he could say a word, the first group of hunters returned from the depths of the catb, dragging the lifeless bodies of massive, grotesque creatures behind them.


    One by one, the Orcs began to pile the carcasses in front of Volk.


    A monstrous collection of mutated beasts, twisted by the radioactive energy of the catbs,y before him.


    The creatures'' skins shimmered with an unnatural glow, their twisted forms bristling with jagged limbs and contorted muscles.


    Several of the Orcs began to mutter to each other, their voices low but audible.


    "Why are we puttin'' all this in front of the Warchief?" one Orc grumbled, scratching the back of his neck.


    "Maybe it''s some sort of ritual," another whispered back, his eyes darting toward Volk. "Maybe he''s gonna bless the meat or somethin''."


    The first Orc frowned, unimpressed but found it funny. "Bless the meat? Since when do we need blessings to eat?"


    A third Orc, standing slightly apart from the others, leaned in, his voice hushed as if he was sharing some great secret.


    "I heard the Warchief ns to reduce the hazard. Make it tastier, you know? Get rid of the bad energy from these things."


    The others exchanged looks of intrigue, their suspicions only growing.


    Before anyone could specte further, Volk stepped forward, his imposing frame casting a long shadow over the pile of monstrous corpses.


    The murmurs ceased instantly, and all eyes turned to him.


    He stood silently for a moment, his eyes scanning the pile of twisted beasts.


    Then, without warning, Volk''s body tensed, and a faint hum filled the air. His hands clenched into fists, and a surge of invisible energy radiated from his body, absorbing over the carcasses like a water drain.


    "ZEEENNNG!"


    A low hum reverberated through the chamber, and the radioactive energy within the creatures began to pulse and shimmer.


    The Orcs watched in stunned silence as the eerie glow around the corpses faded, sucked into Volk''s form.


    The twisted, unnatural energy was siphoned from the dead beasts, absorbed into Volk''s body as if it were nothing more than air.


    Within moments, the corpses of the creaturesy still, their radioactive energypletely drained.


    Volk stood over them, his eyes glinting with satisfaction.


    The Orcs erupted into cheers, their voices echoing off the stone walls.


    They hadn''t seen anything like it before, and the excitement was palpable.


    The beasts were now ready for the feast, safe from their former taint.


    "Let the feast begin!"


    Volk bellowed, his voice booming across the chamber.


    The Orcs roared in response, their excitement boiling over as they quickly set to work preparing the meat for the grand meal.


    Soon, the chamber was filled with the rich, savory aroma of roasting flesh.


    Fires crackle as enormous haunches of meat were skewered and turned over open mes.


    Fat dripped and sizzled into the fire, sending plumes of smoke rising toward the stone ceiling.


    The sounds ofughter and merriment filled the air as the Orcs sat in groups, tearing into the cooked meat with ravenous hunger.


    Even the chieftains, still nursing their bruises from their earlier fight with Volk, joined in the celebration.


    They sat on thick logs,ughing heartily and sharing stories of past battles as they gnawed on chunks of meat.


    Despite the injuries they had sustained, their spirits were high, and the camaraderie among the ns was palpable.


    Around the fire, the Orcs passed aroundrge mugs filled with some kind of potent drink, the liquid sloshing over the sides as they clinked their mugs together in toasts.


    "Hahahaha! I thought I''d never taste proper meat again!" one of the chieftains roared, his voice thick with amusement.


    "Aye, and to think this was all thanks to our new Warchief!" another chieftain added, raising his mug high.


    "Never thought I''d be celebratin'' like this after the beatin'' he gave us!" another chimed in, his face twisted into a toothy grin.


    For two full hours, the feast continued.


    The Orcs ate and drank until their bellies were full, theirughter and cheers echoing throughout the catb.


    Even the youngest Orcs, who had been silent earlier, joined in the celebration, reveling in the unity of the ns under Volk''s leadership.


    But amidst the revelry, Volk remained calm, his eyes sharp, watching over the gathered ns.


    He didn''t eat much¡ªjust enough to keep his strength up.


    His mind was elsewhere, turning over the events that had led them here, and what was yet toe.


    Suddenly, in the middle of theughter and roaring firelight, Volk''s smile faded.


    His muscles tensed as he sensed something¡ªsomething off.


    His head snapped toward the far end of the chamber, where the crack in the wally.


    The noise around him seemed to fade into the background as his senses sharpened.


    There was something¡­ a presence.


    It was subtle, but unmistakable.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed as he stood, his knuckles cracking as he flexed his hands.


    He stepped away from the fire, moving toward the source of the disturbance.


    The atmosphere in the catb shifted as the Orcs around him fell silent, sensing the change in their young Warchief''s demeanor.


    The feast came to an abrupt halt.


    All eyes turned to Volk as he walked.


    Something wasing.


    He stopped, standing at the edge of the chamber, his eyes locked on the crack in the wall.


    The air around him grew colder, and a faint rumble echoed through the stone, as if the very catb itself was awakening.


    Something was about to happen.

 Chapter 119: Orzaroth Elves

    Far away, in the shimmering, mystical realm of Orzaroth, beneath the dense canopy of its ancient forest, an otherworldly ceremony was taking ce.


    The towering trees swayed gently, their leaves whispering in anguage older than time, while the air crackled with an electric energy that seemed to pulse from the very earth itself.


    The elves of this realm were gathered in reverence, forming an immacte circle around a massive, glowing tree¡ªthe Tree of Life.


    The tree''s colossal roots dug deep into the soil, pulsing with an inner light that gave life to the entire forest.


    Its branches reached toward the heavens, their tips seemingly brushing the very stars, while its leaves glimmered with an ethereal glow.


    The elves, adorned in flowing robes of green and gold, stood silent, their sharp, angr faces turned toward the tree in anticipation.


    Their leader, Prince Fernon, stood at the center, his presencemanding and regal.


    Prince Fernon was the embodiment of elven beauty and power.


    His tall, lean frame was draped in intricately woven silks that shimmered in the soft glow of the tree.


    His silver hair fell in waves down his back, framing his chiseled features and sharp, sapphire eyes.


    He was the chosen protector of the elves, the one destined to lead them to their next evolution¡ªthe heavenly elves. But today, his purpose was more personal.


    Today, he would choose his wife from the bearded fruit of the Tree of Life.


    A hush fell over the crowd as Fernon raised his hand, his voice low but resonant.


    "Brothers, sisters of Orzaroth, today marks the beginning of our ascension. The Tree of Life has borne its fruit, and from it, we shall rise above the limitations of this world. Today, I will choose the one who will stand beside me as we guide our people into the future."


    The elves nodded solemnly, one could see their eyes were bright with ambition.


    They had long prepared for this day.


    For centuries, they had guarded the Tree of Life, waiting for it to bear its sacred fruit. And now, that time hase.


    They would finally be the dominant race of the Orzaroth Realm, free to rid the world of beastmen, humans, and especially the dark elves, their sworn enemies.


    Nothing would stand in their way.


    Find more chapters on m_v l|e-NovelBin


    Not after today.


    Around the base of the great tree, saplings began to emerge.


    Each one was like a cocoon, its exterior a soft, silken shell that shimmered with a pale, golden light. Inside each sapling was an elf¡ªan adult, fully formed, but asleep.


    These elves were not born in the traditional sense.


    They were created by the Tree of Life, formed from its essence to be the purest of their kind.


    They were perfect, wless beings, untouched by the imperfections of the world.


    One of these would be Fernon''s bride.


    A murmur rippled through the gathered elves as the saplings appeared in greater numbers, their soft glow illuminating the forest.


    The air was thick with tension and excitement.


    This was more than a marriage.


    This was destiny unfolding before them.


    The elves believed that Prince Fernon''s union with one of these beings would bring them the strength and unity they needed to conquer the realm.


    Chants began to fill the air, soft at first, but growing louder as the elves lifted their voices in unison.


    Their words flowed in the ancient elven tongue, a prayer to the Tree of Life, asking for its guidance in this sacred moment.


    The forest around them seemed to pulse with the rhythm of their chant, the very trees swaying in time with their voices.


    Prince Fernon stepped forward, his eyes scanning the row of saplings.


    Each one held a potential bride, each one was perfect, yet only one could stand at his side.


    He moved gracefully between them, his sharp gaze lingering on each cocoon as if waiting for a sign.


    And then, the Tree of Life responded.


    A low, resonant hum filled the air, vibrating through the ground and up into the saplings.


    The tree''s roots glowed brighter, their light intensifying as the saplings began to shift and pulse.


    From the depths of the tree, a soft, melodic voice echoed in Fernon''s mind, guiding him.


    He stopped before one particr sapling, his hand hovering over its soft surface.


    The elves held their breath as they watched him, their eyes wide with anticipation.


    Fernon''s fingers brushed the surface of the cocoon.


    Instantly, the soft shell began to shimmer and shift.


    The other saplings remained still, but this one responded to his touch, as if it knew it had been chosen.


    The elven prince''s heart quickened.


    He could feel it¡ªthe connection.


    This was the one.


    As the crowd watched in silence, the outer shell of the cocoon began to peel away, its softyers dissolving into the air like mist.


    Slowly, the figure within began to emerge, her delicate form bathed in the light of the Tree of Life.


    She was breathtaking. Her long, silvery green hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, her skin as smooth and pale as moonlight.


    Her eyes were closed, her expression serene, as though she were still caught in a peaceful slumber. Her robes, woven from the very essence of the tree, shimmered like liquid gold, flowing over her body in perfect harmony with her every curve.


    She was, in every sense, the epitome of elven beauty.


    Prince Fernon stepped closer, his hand reaching out to touch her face.


    As his fingers brushed her skin, her eyes slowly fluttered open.


    And that was when Fernon froze.


    Those eyes.


    They were not the soft, pale blue of an elf.


    No, they were a deeper hue, a color he had never seen before.


    They were sharp, dangerous¡ªfull of life, but not the life he expected.


    The gathered elves whispered amongst themselves, unaware of Fernon''s sudden unease.


    They did not yet see what he saw.


    To them, this was still the chosen bride, the one who would elevate their race. But Fernon''s heart raced as his gaze lingered on her face.


    And then he saw it¡ªa flicker of recognition in her eyes.


    A fire.


    Something primal and fierce.


    Something wild and destructive.


    Just what kind of elf is this?


    Solluha''r.


    That was her name, though Fernon did not know it. He felt incredibly attracted.


    She looks like she was not just an elf created by the Tree of Life.


    She could feel that was something far more.


    She was someone from another realm.


    Someone tied to another life.


    Another world.


    Without knowing why, Fernon''s hand pulled away, a cold dread settling into his chest.


    His lips parted to speak, but the words died on his tongue.


    There was something in those eyes¡ªa memory, a connection to something¡­ someone else.


    He is sure of it.


    The elves still celebrated behind him, oblivious to the truth.


    They saw only the beauty and perfection of their new queen-to-be. But Fernon saw the shadow of another life in those eyes.


    A life he knew nothing about.


    A life that had nothing to do with Orzaroth or their ascension.


    As thest pieces of the cocoon dissolved into the air, revealing her fully,


    Fernon felt a shiver run down his spine.


    She was perfect, yes. But she was not theirs.


    And yet, no one else noticed.


    To them, she was simply the future.


    The one who would bring them power.


    But to Fernon, she was a mystery.


    The scene ended as Solluha''r''s face was fully revealed, her eyes locking onto Fernon''s, her expression unreadable.


    She was calm,posed, but there was something in her gaze.


    Something that hinted at a past not yet uncovered.


    A past tied to a different realm entirely.


    Suddenly, the sapling closed again, so with her glorious eyes.

 Chapter 120: Shrinking

    Back in the damp, dark expanse of the catbs, the Orc ns had gathered, earlier feasting and celebrating their victory under Volk''smand, now tense.


    Even though the air was thick with the smell of roasting meat,ughter, and the constant hum of conversation, everyone came to stop.


    Volk stood tall at the center, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the stone walls.


    He had ordered the feast, believing that after all they''d been through, his newly united horde deserved a moment of respite.


    But then it happened.


    A low murmur rippled through the crowd. One of the Orcs from the Bloodfang n, his voice shaky, called out.


    "Warchief... something''s wrong!"


    His words were barely audible at first, but they carried a weight that silenced the entire gathering.


    Eyes turned toward the Orc, whose once-muscr form had begun to change.


    Volk furrowed his brow. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the slight shift in the Orc''s stature.


    The Orc''s broad, green body was shrinking.


    Slowly at first, then faster. His arms and legs withered, muscles shrinking, veins disappearing beneath the skin.


    The sight was both grotesque and horrifying.


    "What''s happening to him?" another Orc from the Ironhide n yelled, his voice trembling.


    One by one, the other Orcs began to feel the same strange sensation.


    Their bodies, once powerful and towering, started to shrink.


    Their voices rose in panic, echoing off the catb walls, as confusion turned to fear.


    "This is sorcery!" shouted an elder from the Stonejaw n, his voice shaking with both anger and terror. He raised his hand, but even his strong arm was withering before their very eyes.


    The Ironhide chieftain, normally calm andposed, was the next to shout,


    "Warchief, what have you done?" His massive form had shrunk to nearly half its size. He was no longer the indomitable force that had fought side by side with Volk.


    The panic grew. Shrkk, shrkk¡ªthe sound of bones shifting and muscles retreating filled the room as more Orcs began to diminish in size.


    One of the younger Orcs screamed in terror, "We''re turning into a small version of ourselves!"


    Volk stood frozen for a moment, confusion and shock etched on his face. His own body remained unaffected. His skin, cleansed by the crystal''s radiant energy, kept him from shrinking.


    The same could be said for the rest of the Dreadmaw n. But the other Orcs were not so lucky.


    Volk''s mind began to search for an answer, trying to find the reason for what was happening in front of him.


    He suddenly recalled something the Orcs had mentioned in passing, something he had not paid much attention to before: the Elven wives.


    Orcs, without or far away from their Elven wives, would slowly weaken.


    Without them, their strength would be drained, and they would continue to shrink, until they were no stronger than goblins.


    His eyes widened in realization. "It''s because we''ve been separated from their Elven wives¡­" he muttered under his breath.


    Another shriek echoed through the cavern as an Orc from the Frostfang n dropped to his knees, his hulking form now shrunken to a mere shadow of what it had been moments before.


    "This can''t be happening!" one of the younger warriors yelled as his voice cracked, his body now norger than amon goblin''s.


    "We''re doomed!" another shouted in desperation, his voice full of hopelessness.


    The chieftains, those who had once mocked Volk for his arrogance, were now the most fearful of all.


    Their bodies were rapidly diminishing, and they looked to Volk in desperation. Their voices, once full of authority, were now shrill and weak.


    "Warchief!" one of them screamed, the title now more of a plea than an acknowledgment of his power. "You have to stop this!"


    "Stop what?" Volk snapped back, his patience thinning. "I didn''t cause this."


    "You must know something!" the Ironhide chieftain shouted, his voice trembling. "You have to fix this!"


    But Volk didn''t have the answers. He nced at the rest of the Dreadmaw n, who remained unaffected.


    Their skin had been cleansed in the crystal''s light, sparing them from the curse that now afflicted the others. But Volk knew that this wasn''t going to end with just shrinking.


    If left unchecked, the Orcs would be as weak as goblins¡ªperhaps even weaker.


    As Volk pondered their fate, his gaze turned to the others who continued to shrink before his eyes.


    It was clear now¡ªwithout their Elven wives, they were doomed to wither away into nothing. But how could he stop it?


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    Znnnng!


    A sudden chime broke through his thoughts.


    The sound echoed loudly in his mind.


    The system screen shed before him, hovering in mid-air where only he could see.


    | Ding!


    | Mission: Have the Orcs have the highest kill count in the Ranker World within an hour!


    | Rewards: The other ns under the host will return to full strength and stop shrinking.


    | Failure: The host will shrink as well. |


    Volk''s eyes widened. "What...?"


    Before he could process the message, a low, rumbling noise filled the catb.


    The Orcs, now in full panic, turned toward the far wall, where a bright, glowing crack had appeared out of nowhere.


    The dimensional gap.


    The crack slowly widened, its edges pulsing with energy.


    Through it, they could see another world¡ªone filled with vast changingndscapes, strange creatures, and a sky that shimmered with the light of a distant sun.


    The Orcs stood frozen, staring in awe and confusion.


    "What is that?" one of them whispered, his voice barely audible.


    Volk clenched his fists, his jaw set in determination.


    He knew what had to be done.


    The system had given him a clear mission, and there was no room for failure. If he didn''t seed, he too would shrink and weaken. But more importantly, the entire horde would fall apart.


    Their strength, their unity¡ªit all rested on his shoulders.


    Without a word, Volk turned to face the gap.


    He knew what this world was¡ªit was the Ranker World, a ce of unknown.


    It could be a world where the strong dominated and the weak perished or something else entirely.


    He could hear the voices of the Orcs behind him, their panic growing louder as more of them continued to shrink.


    "What is this thing? Are our powers being sucked by this thing?" the Ironhide chieftain screamed, his once-proud voice now barely more than a squeak.


    Volk ignored them, his focus solely on the gap before him.


    He had one hour.


    One hour to im the highest kill count and save his horde.


    His hand gripped the hilt of his weapon, and with a deep breath, he stepped forward into the unknown.


    As he crossed the threshold of the dimensional gap, anticipation thrummed in his veins.


    He expected the air to be thick with the scent of blood and battle, but all he felt was a disorienting emptiness.


    Volk''s mind began to create images of a scorchedndscape, littered with the remnants of past conflicts.


    He imagined the silhouettes of countless creatures¡ªwarriors, beasts, monsters¡ªall poised for bloodshed. But as he moved deeper into the void, the world remained hidden from his sight.


    His senses heightened, he felt the ground shift beneath him, a subtle tremor echoing through the fabric of reality.


    He could almost hear the distant whispers of a chaotic battlefield, yet nothing materialized before him.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed, determination hardening his resolve.


    There was no turning back now.


    With a roar that echoed in the silence, he charged forward, his weapon raised high, ready to confront whatevery ahead.


    Behind him, the screams of his shrinking horde faded into the distance as he set his sights on victory.


    The hour had begun.

 Chapter 121: Ranker world

    Volk stepped through the dimensional crack, and what greeted him wasn''t the endless fields of battle or monstrousndscapes he expected.


    He paused, his eyes widening as he took in the surroundings.


    "This¡­ This isn''t what I imagined the Ranker World would look like," he muttered in disbelief.


    The horizon stretched out before him, filled with familiar tall, looming structures, eerily familiar in their design.


    Skyscrapers.


    Roads.


    Even street lights flickered dimly overhead.


    His heartbeat quickened.


    What the hell? he thought, his hand tightening around his axe.


    The scene before him looked too much like Earth.


    Literally, like Earth.


    The streets, though cracked and littered with debris, still had the markings of a city he could have walked through in his previous life.


    Cars sat abandoned on the side of the road, some overturned, windows shattered. And yet, there was something off.


    The people¡ªthe civilians¡ªwere running, panicked, their faces filled with terror.


    They wore clothes he could have seen in any modern city: jeans, sneakers, coats, and jackets pping wildly as they fled down the street.


    However, something was different.


    The fabric seemed more worn, more rugged, as if these people had been running for their lives for a long time.


    Sweat poured down their faces, and fear gripped their every step.


    But what were they running from?


    Volk''s eyes scanned the horizon, his breath steady even as his mind raced.


    Then he saw it.


    A shadow darted between the buildings¡ªfast, predatory.


    His instincts kicked in, and he spotted the creature chasing a woman, her scream echoing off the concrete walls.


    The thing pursuing her wasn''t human.


    Its hulking frame moved with unnatural speed, fur bristling in the wind, its eyes gleaming yellow in the twilight.


    A werewolf.


    Its ws scraped the pavement with each step, sparks flying as it closed the distance between itself and the helpless woman.


    ckang! ckackang!


    Volk''s protective instinct roared to life. His muscles tensed, and without thinking, his hand gripped his axe. His arm raised, the gleaming de ready to be hurled through the air with deadly precision.


    But then¡ª


    Ding!


    A notification shed across his vision, stopping him dead in his tracks.


    | The host will gain nothing for hurting or killing fellow Dungeon Crack creatures!


    | Would you like to continue? |


    His body froze. His mind raced.


    What? he thought, ncing between the system screen and the werewolf, which was closing in on the terrified woman.


    Why?


    The system''s words lingered in his head.


    He would gain nothing.


    No rewards.


    No boost.


    Nothing from killing a fellow creature of the Dungeon Crack.


    His grip on the axe tightened.


    For a moment, he hesitated.


    The system had rules¡ªrules he''d already failed once.


    Failing meant growing weaker.


    Failing meant being unable to protect his n, unable to fulfill the mission.


    His mind shed to the faces of the Dreadmaw n. And then¡­ to Solluha''r.


    The thought of losing strength, of bing weak, of not being able to stand by her side¡ªit tore at him.


    But wasn''t he an Orc now?


    Shouldn''t he act like one?


    Should he care about rules when his instincts screamed at him to fight, to protect?


    Plus, don''t humans only care about themselves too?


    Plus, he''s not a human anymore, why would he care?


    His thoughts swirled in chaos, but before he could make a decision, the werewolf pounced immediately, with its ws outstretched toward the woman.


    No!


    Without thinking, Volk moved, but he wasn''t fast enough to stop the beast.


    The werewolf''s ws raked the air, and the woman let out a scream of pure terror.


    Schink!


    Before the beast could tear into her, a different sound echoed through the street. It was sharp, swift¡ªa whistle through the air.


    Thud!


    Volk''s axe struck, but not where he intended.


    The de embedded itself in the woman''s skull, killing her instantly.


    Her scream was cut short, and her body immediately fell limp to the ground.


    The werewolf froze, its yellow eyes narrowing in confusion as it stared at its prey, now lifeless on the ground. And then its gaze shifted to Volk, who stood still, his chest heaving as his mind processed what he had just done.


    The werewolf''s snarl filled the air.


    Grrraaahhhh!


    It bared its fangs, saliva dripping from its maw.


    Volk had stolen its kill, and the beast wasn''t going to let that slide.


    It charged, ws scraping against the concrete as it lunged at Volk with unbridled rage.


    Volk''s lips curled into a snarl of his own.


    He didn''t hesitate this time.


    Thud!


    His fist collided with the werewolf''s face, a sickening crunch echoing in the street.


    The creature''s head snapped back with the force of the blow, but Volk wasn''t done.


    Bang!


    Another punch followed, this time sending the beast crashing into the ground with a resounding thump.


    The werewolf growled in defiance, trying to rise to its feet, but Volk didn''t give it a chance. His massive hands wrapped around its throat, and with a guttural roar, he lifted the creature off the ground, mming it back down with a bone-shattering KABANG!


    The asphalt cracked beneath the weight of the impact, dust rising into the air.


    The werewolf''s body twitched, but Volk wasn''t done yet.


    He grabbed its limbs¡ªone by one¡ªhis muscles bulging as he pulled.


    Rip!


    The sound of tearing flesh filled the air as Volk tore the beast apart, he could hear the sounds of its fur and skin shredding in two mangle pieces like paper.


    Blood sprayed, painting the pavement red.


    With one final pull, the werewolf''s mangled body was flung to the side,nding in a heap of torn flesh and broken bones.


    Volk stood over the remains, his breathing in heavy, controlled bursts.


    He wiped the blood from his knuckles, his gaze hardening as he looked around at the city.


    For a moment, silence fell, broken only by the distant sounds of civilians still fleeing in the distance.


    Volk looked up at the tall buildings that towered over him, their ss windows reflecting the fading light of the sky.


    This ce¡­


    It''s too much like Earth.


    But he wasn''t human anymore.


    Not Earth too.


    He stared at his green-skinned hands, the veins pulsing beneath the surface.


    He could feel the raw power coursing through his body, the strength that hade with being an Orc.


    There was no going back.


    "I''m not a human anymore," he muttered, his voice low, filled with certainty. "I''m an Orc."


    The words hung in the air as Volk turned his gaze back to the mangled remains of the werewolf.


    He didn''t feel regret for what he''d done.


    The system''s rules didn''t matter either.


    Not when survival was at stake.


    Not when the mission required strength.


    Volk took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering tension.


    The city around him was foreign, and nor Earth.


    He had to.


    The mission was still in motion, and the countdown was ticking.


    His eyes narrowed, scanning the cityscape once more.


    There was something bigger at y here.


    Something he didn''t yet understand. But whatever it was, he would face it head-on.


    As Volk stood tall, his shadow stretching across the bloodstained pavement, the distant hum of the city grew louder.


    He could feel it- more creatures lurking just beyond his sight, waiting for their chance.


    With a smirk, Volk turned, gripping his axe tightly.


    "I am an Orc!"

 Chapter 122: No honor

    Volk wiped the blood off his hands and flicked some of those to the side, he was still processing the world he had stepped into.


    The city streets were chaotic, the scent of fear and blood were spreading like heavy mist in the air, everywhere.


    As he stood amidst the towering buildings, a new system screen shed before his eyes.


    Ding!


    The mechanical chime echoed in his head, and his eyes flicked to the floating screen.


    | Current Rank:


    | Orcs - Rank 881: 1 Kill |


    ___


    | Top Ranked:


    | Asuras - Rank 1: 1890 Kills |


    His brow furrowed in surprise.


    Rank 881?


    One kill?


    He nced down at the dismembered remains of the werewolf, and immediately, a sneer tugged at his lips.


    He''d just started, but the highest ranker¡ªthis Asura¡ªhad nearly two thousand kills?


    Volk clenched his fists, the blood on his knuckles cracking.


    His eyes scanned the area around him, falling on the other creatures stalking through the streets.


    Some of them were monstrous, others twisted versions of animals he had once known, but all of them shared the same goal.


    Their attention was focused on the weaker beings¡ªthe frail ones running for their lives.


    Volk squinted, piecing things together.


    Wait a minute... His mind raced, his eyes darting from one fleeing figure to another.


    Are we¡­ in some kind of Ranker webtoon world?


    The realization of what was happening seemed to hit him hard, like a punch to the gut, piercing through his muscr abs.


    He''d read stories like this back in his old life, devouring webtoons and novels about apocalyptic scenarios and ranking systems.


    The dimensional cracks, the monsters pouring through, the weak fighting for survival¡ªit all started to make sense now.


    And we...


    He nced at his hands again, at the muscr hands, the veins pulsing with unnatural and destructive power.


    We''re the monsters?


    He couldn''t help but let out a low chuckle, though there was no humor in it.


    The irony of the situation wasn''t lost on him.


    In his past life, he''d always imagined being one of the survivors, one of the humans fighting off the monstrous invaders. And now?


    He was on the other side of the equation, a beast from another dimension, sent to destroy.


    Volk was speechless.


    The sheer absurdity of it left him momentarily stunned.


    Suddenly, the sound of something heavy being kicked echoed from behind him.


    He turned and saw the mangled corpse of the werewolf sliding across the pavement.


    The Orcs from his n were standing there, their eyes wide, waiting for him to lead.


    "Young Warchief!" one of them growled, his voice low and uncertain. "What do we do now?"


    Volk blinked, his mind snapping back to the present.


    The Orc behind him nced at the humans¡ªthose fragile creatures still darting through the streets, trying to escape the monsters that were slowly closing in on them.


    Volk''s gaze followed.


    He watched as a blob-like creature slithered through the street, its gtinous form undting with sickening squelches.


    A human¡ªa woman in torn clothing¡ªwas sprinting down an alley, her breath ragged and panicked.


    She stumbled over debris, her face pale with terror as the blob closed in on her, its amorphous shape pulling her into its mass with a wet schlorp.


    Volk''s jaw tightened. He turned back to his n. "We need to kill as many as we can," he said, his voice calm but firm. "If we don''t, all of you will shrink. And soon, you''ll be as weak as goblins."


    The Orcs looked at each other, hesitant. One of them, arge, scarred brute with tusks chipped from battle, pointed toward the humans. "These things?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. "You want us to kill¡­ those weaklings?"


    Volk''s eyes followed the Orc''s gesture,nding on a group of terrified humans huddled behind a broken-down vehicle.


    They were shaking, eyes wide, whispering frantically among themselves as they watched the monsters roam the streets.


    "Yes," Volk said, his voice steady. "Them."


    The Orcs shuffled nervously.


    They weren''t used to killing something that couldn''t fight back.


    They thrived on the thrill of battle, the adrenaline that came from facing a strong opponent. But here¡­ these humans were different.


    They weren''t warriors.


    They were prey.


    "But Warchief¡­" one of the younger Orcs muttered, scratching his head. "These things are too weak. There''s no glory in it. Are you sure this is the right move?"


    Volk''s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. "Look around you. See the monsters?" He pointed to the blob creature that had now finished absorbing its prey, its gtinous mass rippling as it moved on to find its next victim.


    "They aren''t attacking each other. Only the weak things."


    The Orcs followed his gaze, watching the other creatures moving through the streets.


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    The werewolves, the blobs, the twisted beasts¡ªthey weren''t fighting amongst themselves.


    They were all focused on hunting the same prey.


    The weaklings.


    Realization dawned on the Orcs, and a murmur ran through the group.


    Volk watched them for a moment, his mind whirring as he processed the situation.


    "I know, although we shouldn''t do it, we would be weakened if we don''t. Just consider them a hunting target for a real things," he said. Making the Orcs behind him narrowed their eyes and then immediately nodding their heads.


    This world, the ranking system, the apocalypse¡­


    It was like a twisted game, where the strong preyed on the weak to climb the ranks. And right now, the Orcs were at the bottom. Rank 881.


    If they wanted to survive¡ªif they wanted to keep their strength¡ªthey had to follow the rules of this world. They had to y the game.


    "Do it," Volkmanded, his voice like steel. "Hunt them. Kill them. Or we all shrink."


    The Orcs shifted uneasily, their eyes darting between Volk and the humans.


    There was still hesitation in the air, uncertainty hanging over the group like a dark cloud.


    Volk''s hand shot up suddenly, and his voice boomed, "Wait!"


    The Orcs froze, staring at him, waiting for his nextmand.


    Volk''s brow furrowed, his mind racing.


    Something felt off.


    Yes, they needed to kill, but there had to be a smarter way to approach this. He wasn''t a mindless brute, and neither were his n. He had to think strategically.


    If this really is a ranking world, there must be a way to climb quickly.


    A way to exploit the system.


    He nced at the nearby buildings, the humans still running, the monsters continuing their hunt. His mind shed to the leaderboard¡ªAsuras with 1890 kills.


    They had to be killing efficiently, not just wandering aimlessly like beasts.


    Volk lowered his hand, eyes sharp as he scanned the city. He could feel the weight of the system, the unspoken rules of this twisted world pressing down on him. But he wasn''t about to make a rash move.


    He was smarter than that.


    Stronger.


    With a deep breath, Volk nodded to himself.


    "Let me think first," he said, his voice calm but authoritative.


    The Orcs stood at attention, waiting, as Volk''s gaze swept over the city once more. Somewhere


    The Orcs stood at attention, waiting, as Volk''s gaze swept over the city once more.


    Somewhere out there, the higher ranks were ying the game. But Volk wasn''t going to rush in blindly.


    He would figure this out. And when he did, nothing would stop him from climbing to the top.

 Chapter 123: Collapses

    Volk''s mind churned with ideas as he surveyed the city now turned into a battlefield.


    The sprawling cityscape was crawling with monsters, and high above, some bat-like creatures were wing their way up a thirty-story building, their leathery wings pping as they attempted to reach the humans hiding inside.


    Volk''s sharp eyes followed them, and a n began to form.


    He noticed the glint of fear in the eyes of the humans inside the building.


    They were clustered near the windows, watching helplessly as their doom slowly climbed toward them.


    It wasn''t just the monsters.


    The building itself seemed to pulse with tension, as if it knew its time was limited.


    Volk turned to his Orcs.


    His sharp gaze flicked between them, calcting, nning.


    He knew a building would have plenty of humans.


    It was a massive number, and in this ranking world, every kill counted, and he needed to kill as much as he could.


    He needed to make the most of every opportunity.


    He grinned, his lips curling back to reveal his tusks. Yes, this would do.


    "How many Orcs do we have here??" Volk growled, his voice low andmanding.


    One of the Orcs, a stout warrior with a massive scar across his face, stepped forward. "About a hundred and sixty, Warchief," he rumbled, ncing up at the building nervously.


    The bat-creatures were now halfway up, their screeches echoing through the air as their ws raked against the building''s surface.


    Volk frowned.


    A hundred and sixty wasn''t much, but it was enough to destroy the buildings.


    More than enough.


    With a sudden, fierce energy, Volk straightened up, towering over the other Orcs. His eyes gleamed with determination, the weight ofmand settling on his broad shoulders. He had to act fast.


    "Listen up!" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the street like a thunderp. Every Orc turned toward him, their eyes wide, awaiting his orders.


    "We''re not gonna waste time hunting down every human one by one. That''s not how we rise. We need to think bigger. We''re taking down the whole damned building."


    The Orcs looked at each other, confused murmurs spreading through the ranks. One of them, a younger Orc with nervous eyes, spoke up.


    "Warchief... destroy the whole building? How...?"


    Volk''s gaze shot to him, silencing the doubt with a mere look. "It''s simple. This is a thin building, as long as we take out the foundation. Bring the entire structure down. Everyone inside will be crushed."


    A few of the Orcs grinned, their excitement bubbling to the surface as they imagined the carnage.


    Others remained unsure, still trying to wrap their heads around the n.


    They are always thinking Volk would always lead them through brute force, but this?


    This was something different.


    This was strategy.


    Volk stepped forward, standing tall, his eyes burning with intensity. "Look around you!" he growled, gesturing to the chaos of the city.


    "The other monsters are focused on picking off weaklings one at a time. But we''re not like them. We think. We n. We take them all out in one go and rise to the top in a single strike."


    The Orcs'' confusion faded as his words sank in.


    Their uncertainty turned into excitement, the thought of mass destruction and the promise of victory lighting a fire in their eyes.


    "But Warchief," one of the older Orcs grunted, "how do we take down a building that big?"


    Volk turned his gaze back to the thirty-story tower, the bat-creatures still crawling up its sides, the humans inside scrambling to protect themselves.


    He could already see the weak points.


    The cracks in the foundation.


    The ces where the weight of the building was most vulnerable.


    "We hit it where it''s weakest," Volk said, his voice steady and confident. "At the base. We tear through the foundation. When it copses, the building will crush everyone inside. And we''ll take the kills."


    The Orcs nodded, their doubts erased. Volk could see the bloodlust in their eyes, their desire for victory and power. They were ready to follow him to the end.


    He grinned. "Get to work. Now. But make sure one part of this city was not demolished, maybe we can use themter."


    The Orcs were surprised, but Volk''s expression of urinh make them immediately sprang into action.


    Their heavy footsteps thundered as they charged toward the base of the building, massive hands gripping axes and clubs, ready to tear through concrete and steel.


    Volk followed, his eyes scanning the structure, calcting every move, every strike.


    The ground trembled as the first blownded, a massive club smashing into the foundation with a deafening CRASH.


    Dust and debris rained down, but the Orcs didn''t falter. Another blow followed, then another.


    The cracks in the building''s base grew wider with each strike, spreading like veins through the concrete.


    WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!


    Volk stood back, arms crossed, watching as his n worked tirelessly. His sharp eyes tracked the progress, ensuring every strike was ced exactly where it needed to be.


    The ground beneath the building began to tremble, the entire structure groaning as it struggled to remain upright.


    The humans inside the building screamed, their panic rising as the walls began to shake.


    They clung to each other, their faces pale with terror as the realization set in. There was no escape.


    Volk''s grin widened.


    "Harder!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Bring it down!"


    The Orcs doubled their efforts, their massive bodies mming into the building''s foundation with all their strength.


    CRACK!


    The sound of breaking stone echoed through the streets, followed by the groaning of steel beams beginning to buckle under the pressure.


    Volk could feel the momenting. The building was on the verge of copse. All it needed was one final push.


    "Now!" he bellowed, his voice rising above the roar of destruction. "Everyone, together!"


    With a united roar, the Orcs delivered onest, earth-shattering blow.


    BOOM!


    The foundation gave way, the ground beneath the building crumbling into dust.


    For a brief moment, the entire structure seemed to hang in the air, suspended by the tension in the very earth itself.


    And then, with a deafening CRASH, the building began to fall.


    The humans inside screamed, their cries lost in the roar of copsing concrete and steel.


    The bat-creatures screeched in panic, pping their wings uselessly as the building crumbled around them.


    There was no escape.


    No way out.


    Volk watched, his heart pounding with adrenaline, as the tower crumbled to the ground.


    Dust and debris filled the air, but the sound of destruction was all he needed.


    The massive structure came down in a single, earth-shaking crash, and the lives of those inside were snuffed out in an instant.


    For a few moments, the city was silent.


    The ground still trembled beneath Volk''s feet, the weight of the destruction settling into the earth. And then, as the dust began to clear, a familiar chime echoed in his mind.


    Ding!


    Volk nced at the system screen as it materialized before him.


    | Current Rank: Orcs - Rank 1: 3,009 Kills |


    He let out a slow, satisfied breath.


    Rank 1.


    They''d done it.


    He''d done it.


    Behind him, the Orcs were celebrating, their roars of victory echoing through the ruined city. But Volk''s mind was already racing ahead, thinking of the next step. He was no longer just an Orc.


    He was something more.


    Something stronger.


    And this world? This ranking system? It was just the beginning.


    Volk turned, his eyes scanning the horizon, already plotting his next move. Let theme, he thought, his heart pounding with excitement. Let them alle.


    Because now, he wasn''t just surviving this world.


    He was going to conquer it.


    However, Volk knew there was still plenty of time left, he needed to make sure that horde would never be surpassed!

 Chapter 124: Ranked Pillars

    Far away, in the bustling Ranker country of Korena, chaos reigned in the heart of one of its sprawling cities.


    Towering buildings stood like silent sentinels as six-armed demons rampaged through the streets, their monstrous figures covered in thick, leathery skin.


    Each of their six arms wielded a weapon¡ªa twisted amalgamation of jagged steel and bone.


    With every swing, cars were torn in half, and chunks of concrete flew through the air, sending panicked citizens fleeing in every direction.


    But amidst the chaos, a lone figure descended from the sky,nding on the cracked asphalt with a soft thud.


    The man wore a pristine ck suit, sharply tailored, with polished shoes that gleamed under the flickering streetlights.


    His sword, strapped neatly to his back, shimmered in the waning sunlight.


    His presence alone seemed to calm the panic-stricken crowd, and a ripple of hope spread through the bystanders.


    "Look! It''s a ranked Pir!"


    A cry of relief rose from the crowd. "We''re saved!" shouted a woman, clutching her child. Others echoed her sentiment, the tension in the air easing slightly.


    The man, expression cold and calcting, ignored the cheers. His eyes, sharp as a hawk''s, locked onto the six-armed demons wreaking havoc down the street.


    Without a word, he raised his left wrist and tapped on the sleek, metallic bracelet that adorned it.


    The holographic interface flickered to life, glowing faintly in the dimming light. He swiped through the data quickly, analyzing the creatures before him.


    F-ss threat.


    His lip twitched in mild annoyance.


    F-ss? This isn''t even worth my time.


    I hope there are others that could at least make the de or mine feast and evolve.


    Without further dy, he reached behind his back and unsheathed his sword.


    The de, long and slender, shimmered with a faint blue glow, the edge so fine that it seemed to cut the very air around it.


    The man stepped forward, calm andposed, as if the destruction around him was nothing more than a passing inconvenience.


    The first demon, oblivious to the man''s approach, raised its massive club-like arm to crush a nearby building.


    The moment the creature began its swing, the man moved. In a blink, he was behind it, his sword already sheathed.


    Shnk.


    For a moment, the demon paused, confusion flickering across its grotesque features.


    Then, with a sickening squelch, its torso slid apart, neatly severed in two.


    The top half copsed to the ground, lifeless, as dark blood sprayed across the street.


    The man didn''t even nce back at his fallen foe.


    The remaining demons, alerted by the death of theirrade, roared in fury.


    Their eyes burned with malevolent rage, and they charged at the man in unison, their six arms swinging wildly in an attempt to crush him under sheer brute force.


    But the man didn''t flinch. His movements were fluid, almost graceful, as he sidestepped the first demon''s flurry of strikes.


    Each swing missed by mere inches, the wind from their blows tousling his hair, but he remained untouched.


    His sword shed once, twice, and with each swift motion, another demon crumpled to the ground, lifeless.


    CRASH!


    The street shook as a demon hurled itself toward the man, bringing down both of its massive fists in an attempt to tten him.


    The impact sent cracks spidering through the pavement, but when the dust cleared, the man was nowhere to be seen.


    He had moved in a blur, faster than the eye could track, appearing behind the demon with his sword held at the ready.


    With one fluid sh, the demon''s head tumbled from its shoulders,nding with a dull thud.


    The remaining demons, now fully aware of the man''s prowess, hesitated.


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    Their primal instincts told them to flee, but before they could retreat, the man was already upon them.


    His de cut through the air with deadly precision, slicing through demonic flesh like it was paper.


    Each strike was methodical, each movement calcted.


    There was no wasted energy, no hesitation.


    The fight was over in seconds.


    Thest demon fell to its knees, blood gushing from its severed limbs. Its once terrifying roars were now nothing more than pitiful gurgles as it copsed onto the pavement, defeated.


    The man in the neat suit stood amidst the carnage, his sword gleaming with the blood of his enemies.


    He flicked his wrist, and the dark liquid sttered off the de before he sheathed it once more.


    The crowd, still watching from a distance, erupted into cheers.


    The chaos had been brought to a swift end, and their savior stood victorious. But the man''s expression remained unchanged.


    He wasn''t here for glory or praise.


    Suddenly, the sound of rotors cutting through the air filled the street.


    A military helicopter descended from the clouds, its powerful engines kicking up dust and debris.


    It hovered above the street before slowlynding in front of the man.


    The door slid open, revealing a soldier in a crisp military uniform, his eyes sharp and


    focused.


    "Commander Lin," the soldier called out, his voice barely audible over the roar of the helicopter''s des. "We need you."


    Commander Lin nced up, his face impassive. "What is it?"


    The soldier''s expression was grim. "Several C-ss monsters have appeared in Bousan. We need you to take them out. Immediately."


    Lin''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    C-ss?


    C-ss threats?


    This might be a challenge.


    His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened.


    As Commander Lin''s helicopter ascended into the sky, the familiar hum of the rotors filled the cabin.


    The city below grew smaller, its chaotic streets now distant and insignificant.


    Lin''s eyes, sharp and unwavering, scanned the horizon ahead.


    The mission in Bousan weighed on his mind, but there was something else¡ªsomething subtle, yet undeniably present¡ªstirring in the air.


    Suddenly, through the haze of the clouds, several dark shapes appeared on the horizon.


    At first, they were mere specks in the distance, but as the helicopter drew closer, Lin realized what they were: more helicopters, identical to his own, flying in formation.


    The sound of their des reverberated through the sky, creating a synchronized rhythm.


    Inside each helicopter, he could make out figures seated in the cabin.


    Like him, they were d in sleek, tailored suits, their weapons polished and ready.


    The rank Pirs.


    A group of elites, chosen for their exceptionalbat prowess, scattered across Korena''s ranks to tackle the most dangerous of threats.


    Lin''s eyes flicked from helicopter to helicopter, noting the faces of the other rank Pirs.


    Some he recognized¡ªlike Jin, a ruthless swordsman who never spoke more than a word at a time, and Kira, a sniper with precision unmatched by any other.


    Others were less familiar, but their reputations preceded them.


    These were the ones sent in when all else failed, and failure was not an option.


    The radios crackled to life.


    "Rank Pirs, prepare for engagement," came the voice of amanding officer. "C-ss monsters confirmed in Bousan. Execute the mission without hesitation."


    Lin tightened his grip on his sword, his gaze steady.


    The sky was filled with rank Pirs.


    The battle ahead would be nothing short of a spectacle.


    One by one, they would see the city, and they suddenly saw, just in time, a building copsing.

 Chapter 125: Back to power

    The air in the city was thick with the acrid smell of dust and debris.


    The ground trembled as the final towering building, now reduced to a crumbling shell of steel and concrete, copsed with a resounding crash. Stay updated with mvl


    BOOM!


    The sound echoed through the streets, shaking the ground beneath Volk''s feet.


    He stood amidst the chaos, towering above the shattered ruins, his breath steady and controlled.


    His muscr and massive Orc frame glistened with sweat, and as he wiped his brow, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.


    His eyes, glowing with a fierce satisfaction, scanned the screen only he could see.


    Ding!


    | Rank 1 - Orcs: 63,729 kills. |


    The numbers shed in front of him, stark and undeniable.


    He had done it.


    A smirk crept onto his face.


    The mission was a sess, but it wasn''t just the victory that pleased him.


    It was the battle itself¡ªthe raw, unfiltered chaos, the bloodshed, the satisfaction of dominating an entire city.


    "I can''t believe that killing humans wouldn''t make me feel anything. Is this because I am an Orc now?" Volk asked himself, wondering.


    He imagined himself vomiting after killing a human, but instead, he felt even more pleased.


    Soon, his knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists, still feeling the residual power coursing through him.


    The orcs around him, his warriors, stood silent for a moment, their gazes shifting toward him as they sensed the shift in the air.


    Suddenly, another screen flickered before Volk''s eyes.


    Ding!


    | Mission: Have the Orcs achieve the highest kill count in the Ranker World within an hour!


    | Rewards: The other ns under the host will return to full strength and stop shrinking.


    | Failure: The host will shrink as well.


    | Mission Status: Completed. |


    A low rumble spread through the group as the significance of the moment settled in.


    One of the orcs, smaller and more hunched than the rest, suddenly straightened up, his eyes widening in surprise.


    His frame began to swell, his muscles expanding, and his skin darkened to a deep, healthy green.


    Volk turned toward him, his gaze steady but alert.


    "Hmm?"


    The smaller orc''s transformation was swift but noticeable.


    He grunted, looking down at his hands as they grew back to their former size. His body pulsed with raw energy, the very essence of orcish strength returning to him.


    Gasps filled the air.


    "Look!" one orc shouted, pointing at the transforming warrior. "He''s... he''s back!"


    The excitement spread like wildfire.


    Soon, the other orcs, smaller from the strange curse of the dungeon, felt the same sensation ripple through their bodies.


    One by one, they began to grow, their bodies filling out, muscles bulging, and their skin darkening to the deep shades that marked their strength and vitality.


    Thud.


    Thud.


    Their feet stomped into the ground as they regained their full height, towering once more like the titans they were meant to be.


    "By the ancestors!" another orc gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. "It''s true! The curse¡ªit''s lifting!"


    A chorus of gasps, followed by guttural cheers, rose into the air.


    The once-shrinking orcs, who had been reduced to trembling shadows of their former selves, were now standing tall again.


    The atmosphere was electric, every orc who had felt the creeping fear of weakness now roared with exhration.


    Weapons were raised high into the air, and the thundering sound of feet stomping in unison made the very ground tremble beneath them.


    "Volk! Warchief!" one of the orcs shouted, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You did it! You saved us! By the Orc Gods!"


    "Look at them!" another orc eximed, his eyes wide with astonishment as he pointed to the rapidly growing crowd. "Every n, back to full strength!"


    Volk stood at the center of it all, his expression calm andposed, but there was a glint in his eye that spoke of his satisfaction.


    His arms were crossed over his broad chest, muscles taut beneath his green skin.


    The cheers of his warriors echoed around him, a symphony of victory that filled the broken city.


    Each orc who looked to him did so with reverence, their voices thick with respect and awe.


    "Never doubted the Warchief!" an orc called out from the crowd. Others echoed him, their voices raised in triumph.


    "We follow you, Warchief!" another roared. "To the ends of this cursed world if need be!"


    Volk''s gaze swept over his warriors, a deep sense of pride swelling within him.


    They had faced impossible odds, had been driven to the brink of despair by the shrinking curse, and yet here they stood¡ªstronger, fiercer, and more united than ever before.


    He knew that this victory was only the beginning.


    The other realms, the creatures of this world¡ªthey would alle to know the might of the Orc Horde.


    No, the nuclear Orc Horde!


    Suddenly, Volk would touch his chin with his finger and begin to think, "Hmmm¡­ what kind of system do I have again?" He wondered, it was need stated.


    And then, a sound, faint at first, but growing louder, pierced through the cheers.


    Whop-whop-whop-whop.


    The unmistakable sound of helicopter des cutting through the air.


    Volk''s ears twitched, and his eyes narrowed as he turned toward the sky.


    The roar of engines grew closer, and soon, dark shapes appeared on the horizon. Helicopters¡ªmetal beasts of human design, hovering above the ruins like vultures over a carcass.


    One by one, they materialized, sleek ck machines against the smoky backdrop of the city.


    There were several of them, their des slicing through the air with mechanical precision.


    "What are those?" one of the orcs muttered, his voice tinged with both awe and suspicion.


    Another orc squinted up at the helicopters, frowning. "Flying machines¡­ humans use them in their wars. But why are they here?"


    Volk''s gaze remained fixed on the sky, his mind working quickly.


    These were no ordinary machines.


    Helicopters!


    Something told him that the presence of so many helicopters was not a coincidence.


    As they drew closer, he could make out figures inside the cockpits¡ªhumans, their faces grim, focused.


    They were not here for rescue.


    No, these humans hade for something else entirely.


    "Warchief," one of the orcs growled, stepping up beside Volk. "Should we prepare for battle?"


    Volk said nothing for a moment, his eyes tracking the lead helicopter as it hovered overhead.


    His sharp instincts told him that the appearance of these machines was no ident. But he was calm, unshaken.


    The city, now a graveyard of rubble and broken ss, was theirs.


    These humans were intruding on orcish territory.


    The helicopter doors slid open with a hiss, revealing more figures inside.


    He could feel some kind of faint and controlled hazardous magic particles in their presence.


    Volk recognized the humans from stories passed down in this new world¡ªelite warriors, the kind that nations sent when they wanted swift and decisive action. But why here? Why now?


    Suddenly, he would shake his head.


    Of course, after wrecking havoc, the would surely send their top level warriors, of course.


    He felt the weight of the axe in his hand, the de still warm from his recent kills.


    A storm was brewing, and he knew that what came next would be a sh unlike any other.


    Volk''s voice, deep and steady, broke the silence. "Hold your ground."


    The orcs obeyed immediately, each one of them having eyes glowing with readiness.


    They were ready to follow their Warchief into any battle, no matter the foe. And as the helicopters circled above, like vultures awaiting the feast, Volk smiled to himself.


    Let theme.


    The orcs had never feared a fight.

 Chapter 126: Escape from the open

    The rhythmic hum of the helicopter''s des slicing through the air grew louder as the aircraft descended toward the city, casting ominous shadows across the debrisden streets below.


    Inside, tension is so heavy in the copter.


    The soldiers, d in tactical gear, each with rifles secured to their chests, sat in silence, their gazes locked on the small windows where the ruins of the city sprawled out beneath them.


    Yet, amidst the wreckage, something else caught their attention¡ªmoving figures.


    A horde of orcs.


    Sergeant Kim, the squad leader, was the first to speak, breaking the uneasy quiet with a sharp intake of breath. "There they are," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowed in disbelief.


    His fingers tapped restlessly against his rifle, the weight of the decision ahead pressing down on him.


    Beside him, Corporal Han adjusted his helmet, voice tight with concern.


    "Should we fire now? We could wipe them out before they even see us."


    His hand hovered near the trigger of the mounted machine gun, the urge to act already pulsating through his veins.


    The radio crackled, and Lin Seok''s calm voice came through, cutting through the uncertainty like a knife. "No."


    The soldiers exchanged confused nces.


    Lin Seok''s reputation preceded him.


    He was one of the Pirs, an elite group of warriors, but this was different.


    These weren''t just ordinary enemies¡ªthey were orcs, massive, hulking creatures who had just destroyed half the city.


    The decision to hold fire seemed counterintuitive, almost suicidal.


    "Sir," Sergeant Kim began, his voice steady butced with worry. "We''ve got a clear shot from up here. Are you sure you don''t want us to¡ª"


    "Hold your fire," Lin Seok interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "They''ve already noticed us. Dropping warriors into that mess without thinking first could cost us more than we gain."


    The soldiers exchanged uneasy looks, then reluctantly followed orders.


    The preparation for an attack was painstakingly slow as they geared up, ensuring every clip was full, every grenade properly secured.


    There was a certain ritual to it, a process that calmed their nerves even as their hearts raced faster.


    Sergeant Kim ran a hand over his rifle, checking the sights for the third time, while others tightened their harnesses, their bodies tense with anticipation.


    Meanwhile, Lin Seok peered through the front of the helicopter, his sharp eyes locking onto the orcs below.


    He was calm¡ªtoo calm for the situation, which unnerved some of the younger soldiers.


    As the chopper dipped lower, the details of the orcs became clearer.


    They weren''t just mindless brutes.


    No, these creatures moved with purpose, their hulking frames casting long shadows as they made their way toward the intact part of the city, avoiding the half they had already decimated.


    Corporal Han, peering through a scope, frowned. "They''re moving away from the destruction. Sir, they''re heading toward the untouched part of the city."


    Lin Seok''s brow furrowed slightly, his mind racing as he processed the orcs'' strategy. It wasn''t just brute force that had gotten them this far.


    They were being tactical. He leaned forward, studying their movement, and then it clicked.


    "They''re using the humans as shields," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His lips curled into a smile. "Smart."


    Sergeant Kim nced back, unsure if he had heard correctly. "Smart, sir?"


    "They destroyed half the city," Lin Seok said, sitting back, his arms crossed over his chest. "But they''ve left the other half standing. There are still humans in those buildings, and those orcs know it. They''re counting on us hesitating because of the civilians."


    The helicopter rattled slightly as it adjusted its course, and the soldiers in the back, now fully prepped and ready, held onto their gear.


    They were itching for a fight, but Lin Seok''s words made them pause. The idea of using humans as shields sent a ripple of difort through the cabin.


    Private Lee, his voice barely above a whisper, looked toward Sergeant Kim. "What if they''re right? What if we can''t fire without hitting civilians?"


    Sergeant Kim''s jaw tightened, his thoughts racing.


    The orcs weren''t mindless monsters¡ªthis was a calcted move.


    They were forcing the soldiers into a moral dilemma: fire and risk civilian lives, or hold back and give the orcs an advantage. His mind churned with possibilities, the weight of every decision pressing down on him.


    Lin Seok''s gaze swept over his squad. He could see the hesitation, the uncertainty etched into their faces.


    They were soldiers, trained to follow orders, but this situation was testing them in ways they hadn''t anticipated. And Lin Seok couldn''t me them.


    He chuckled softly, breaking the tension. "Do these orcs really think they''ve got the upper hand just because there are humans in the buildings?"


    Sergeant Kim shot him a nce. "With all due respect, sir, they might."


    Lin Seok waved a hand dismissively. "Let me handle them."


    Corporal Han, ncing at Lin Seok''s serene expression, frowned. "Sir, are you sure? These creatures¡ª"


    "They''re underestimating us." Lin Seok''s eyes shed with confidence. "They think we won''t attack because they''ve taken cover among the civilians. But they''ve forgotten one thing."


    "And what''s that?" Sergeant Kim asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern.


    Lin Seok''s grin widened as he checked the sword strapped to his side, its de gleaming faintly even in the dim light of the helicopter.


    "We''re the Pirs."


    The soldiers shifted uneasily, still unsure.


    They knew the Pirs were powerful, beyond ordinary soldiers, but facing a horde of orcs that had already torn through a city seemed like a different kind of fight.


    The helicopter trembled slightly as it neared the ground.


    The sound of its rotors beating through the air grew louder, and the tension inside the cabin reached a boiling point.


    Suddenly, the orcs below, as if sensing the impending arrival of the soldiers, raised their massive shields.


    The glint of metal and roughhide reflected in the sunlight as the shields locked into ce, creating a barrier between the orcs and the helicopters above.


    Sergeant Kim swore under his breath. "They''re preparing for an assault."


    Corporal Han leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "They''re smarter than we thought, sir. They''re moving toward the buildings that are still intact."


    From their elevated vantage point, the soldiers watched as the orcs made their way toward the remaining structures, their shields raised defensively.


    In the distance, human civilians could be seen through the shattered windows of the buildings¡ªpeople, huddled in fear, unaware that they were being used as leverage in a brutal game of survival.


    Lin Seok''s eyes gleamed with amusement. "They think we won''t attack them because of the civilians."


    He stood up from his seat, the low ceiling of the helicopter making him duck slightly as he approached the front of the cabin.


    The soldiers watched him closely, their hands still gripping their weapons, uncertain of what was about to happen next.


    Without warning, Lin Seok turned to the military personnel seated near the cockpit. "Drop us," he ordered, his voice steady and firm.


    The personnel looked shocked, exchanging bewildered nces before one of them stammered, "Sir, are you sure? There are still civilians down there. If we drop¡ª"


    Lin Seok raised a hand, cutting him off. His expression was calm but resolute. "Trust me. We can handle it. The Pirs will deal with the orcs. The civilians won''t be harmed."


    The military personnel hesitated for only a moment before nodding.


    They had no reason to doubt a Pir, after all.


    Lin Seok''s confidence was contagious, and soon, the others in the helicopter began to feel it too.


    As the helicopter prepared for the drop, Sergeant Kim leaned toward Corporal Han. "We''re really doing this?"


    Corporal Han shook his head with a bemused smile. "If Lin Seok says he can handle it, I''m not going to argue."


    The aircraft descended lower, the city''s brokenndscape rising up to meet them.


    Lin Seok stood at the ready, his eyes locked on the orc horde below, their shields still raised, unaware of what was about to hit them.


    "Let''s show them what the Pirs are made of," Lin Seok said, his voice low but brimming with anticipation.


    And then, without another word, they dropped.

 Chapter 127: Elusive Pillars

    Volk''s eyes narrowed as he stood among the rubble, towering over the remains of the copsed buildings.


    His muscled frame cast a long shadow across the cracked pavement.


    He scanned the sky, his keen senses immediately spotting the helicopters approaching on the horizon.


    The loud whup-whup-whup of the choppers'' des grew louder, and with it came a sense of anticipation.


    Suddenly, a familiar ding echoed in his mind, and a system screen shed before his eyes.


    Ding!


    | Mission: Murder all the Ranked Pirs within an hour.


    | Ranked Pirs: 0/25.


    | Reward: Travel to Orzaroth.


    | Failure: The host will no longer be able to use Nuclear Devastation attacks in Grum-Gar form.


    | Mission Status: Ongoing. |


    Volk''s heart skipped a beat.


    No more Nuclear Devastation Strike?


    He clenched his fist, with reality slowly sinking into him.


    That attack was his most powerful weapon, the one that had turned the tide in battle against the Warlock. But worse than losing the attack, it meant something deeper¡ªit meant his chance of seeing Solluha''r, his wife, would be lost.


    A scowl formed across his rough features, and his yellowed tusks glinted in the dying sunlight.


    The thought of being cut off from Orzaroth, from Solluha''r, was uneptable.


    A slow, calcting smile spread across his face, revealing his sharpened teeth. "I won''t let that happen," Volk growled, his voice deep and guttural.


    His glowing eyes flickered as he turned to face the Horde of orcs that stood behind him.


    "Into the city!"


    Volk bellowed. His voice boomed through the deste streets like thunder, and the orcs behind him stirred, their massive shields clinking against their armor as they prepared to move.


    "We can''t afford to be out here in the open. If those flying insects rain down fire from above, we''ll be crushed."


    The orcs grunted in agreement, some snarling, eager for the bloodshed toe.


    Volk raised his hand, motioning them forward, and the Horde began to move.


    The ground shook beneath their feet as they made their way into the part of the city where buildings still stood intact, tall and looming, their windows shattered but their walls mostly undamaged.


    The sound of their march echoed in the ruins, a rhythmic thud-thud-thud as their boots hit the pavement.


    Volk kept his eyes on the sky, watching as the helicopters circled like vultures.


    He could feel it in his gut¡ªthose weren''t just soldiers.


    Something else wasing.


    Something eerie.


    The ranked Pirs.


    He could sense their presence even before the system mission had appeared. The Pirs were near.


    As they entered the deeper part of the city, Volk''s instincts red.


    The buildings here were perfect for cover, but also for an ambush. He knew it, and so did his Horde.


    The tension in the air was thick, the orcs moving cautiously now, shields raised, ready for anything.


    Their heavy breathing mixed with the distant whir of the choppers, creating an eerie symphony of impending conflict.


    And then it came.


    Fwoosh!


    A blur of movement, too fast to track with the naked eye, cut through the air.


    One of the orcs stumbled as his shield was struck with blinding speed.


    CLANG!


    The impact rang out like a bell, reverberating off the surrounding buildings.


    Volk''s head snapped toward the source of the attack, but before he could process what he''d seen, another strike hit.


    BANG!


    Another shield, this time from the right. The attack was relentless.


    The orcs tried to defend, but the speed of the enemy was overwhelming.


    They were under attack from all sides, but their enemies were invisible, mere shadows darting between the buildings.


    "Hold the line!"


    Volk roared, his voice cutting through the chaos. His Horde responded immediately, shifting into defensive formation, shields interlocking like the scales of a dragon.


    Their hulking forms created a near-imprable wall, but the attacks kepting, faster and faster, like a deadly rainstorm.


    BAM! BAM! BAM!


    Every blow was blocked, but the sheer force of the strikes was pushing them back, step by step.


    Volk''s mind began to think of something else.


    These weren''t ordinary soldiers. No human could move that fast. His instincts screamed at him to think quickly.


    This had to be the Pirs. He needed to act before his Horde was overwhelmed.


    With a sharp grunt, Volk raised his massive hand. "Set the trap!"


    The orcs, well-trained and battle-hardened, moved swiftly despite their size.


    They began positioning themselves, spreading out along the narrow streets and alleyways, using the intact buildings as natural choke points.


    Volk''s n was simple¡ªlure the attackers into a false sense of superiority and then crush them with brute force.


    He''d seen this work in countless battles before, and it would work again.


    But these attackers were different.


    As thest orc took his position, a moment of silence fell.


    The attacks stopped.


    Volk''s eyes darted around the area, searching for any sign of movement.


    For a moment, everything was still. The air was thick with tension, every orc bracing for the next wave.


    And then, it happened.


    SWISH!


    The first attack came from above, straight down from the rooftop of a nearby building.


    A glowing de sliced through the air, aimed directly at one of therger orcs in the rear formation.


    The orc raised his shield, but the speed of the strike was too fast.


    CLANG!


    The shield held, but barely.


    The orc stumbled back, his arm shaking from the impact.


    Volk''s eyes widened. These weren''t normal attacks. They were coordinated, precise, and deadly.


    Before Volk could issue another order, three more figures appeared, darting between the buildings, their movements so quick they were almost a blur.


    These were no ordinary warriors.


    These were Pirs that the system speaks of!


    How is he gonna kill them if they were these damn fast?


    BAM!


    A second orc was hit, his shield knocked aside by an unseen force.


    The orcs tried to close in on the attackers, but the speed and agility of the Pirs made it impossible.


    They slipped through the gaps in the defenses like smoke, striking and retreating before the orcs could retaliate.


    Volk growled in frustration. "Trap them! Close in!"


    But the trap was useless.


    The Pirs moved too fast, too unpredictably.


    Every time an orc swung his axe or mmed his shield, the Pirs were already gone, a blur of motion disappearing into the shadows.


    The Horde was growing desperate.


    Even Volk could feel it¡ªthe frustration, the anger. His n was failing.


    One of the Pirs, a figure in a sleek, dark uniform with a glowing sword in each hand, stood atop a nearby building, looking down on Volk with a smirk.


    "You think you can trap us?" the Pir sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "We are the ranked Pirs. Your brute force means nothing."


    Volk''s teeth ground together, his blood boiling. He had never faced opponents like this before, not even Zenveil.


    These were foes that couldn''t be overwhelmed by sheer strength alone.


    They required something more.


    But Volk was not about to give up. Not now.


    Not when he was so close topleting his mission, to seeing Solluha''r again.


    With a roar that shook the very foundations of the city, Volk charged forward, his massive axe raised high.


    He would crush them.


    He would rip these Pirs apart with his bare hands if he had to.


    But as he swung his axe, aiming for the figure atop the building, the Pir vanished in a blur of motion, reappearing behind him in the blink of an eye.


    "Too slow," the Pir taunted, his sword shing as he shed at Volk''s back.


    Volk spun around, his massive fist swinging out to meet the Pir, but once again, the attacker was gone, slipping through his grasp like water.


    The battle was turning into a game of cat and mouse, and Volk hated it. But he wasn''t going to lose.


    Not here.


    Not now.


    "Come at me, cowards!" Volk roared, his voice echoing through the city. "Face me head-on, or are you too weak?"


    The Pirs paused, their movements slowing as they considered Volk''s challenge.


    For a moment, it seemed like they would ept. But then, in a sh, they vanished again, leaving Volk and his Horde standing in the ruins of the city, their trap useless.


    And for the first time in a long while, Volk felt doubt creeping into his mind.


    How to kill them?


    Did the system miscalcted?

 Chapter 128: Pillars approach

    Inside the building, the dim light flickered as Lin Seok stood at the center, his sharp gaze fixed on the map of the city sprawled across the table.


    The soft hum of electronics, along with the distant sound of helicopters outside, created an uneasy atmosphere.


    Beside him, a group of elite warriors¡ªeach a Pir of the Ranker world¡ªgathered, their expressions tense but focused.


    Among them were Jin, the stoic swordsman, his katana resting casually on his back, and Kira, the sniper, who silently cleaned the barrel of her high-tech rifle.


    Lin Seok leaned over the table, running his finger across the map. His brow furrowed as he spoke, his voice calm but authoritative.


    "Those orcs... they''re not just brutes. They''re slow, yes, but that''s not the problem. Their battle instincts are... terrifying."


    Jin, standing with his arms crossed, nodded slowly. "They''re reading our movements, Lin. They know where we''re going to strike before we do."


    Kira nced up from her rifle, her sharp eyes narrowing. "That''s impossible. Orcs shouldn''t be able to react that quickly. Not unless... they''ve fought battles like this before."


    Lin Seok sighed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It''s not just speed or strength. It''s something more primal. Every time weunch an attack, they shift their positions, as if they can sense iting. They defend, but it''s not reactionary. It''s...


    instinctive."


    Jin tapped his fingers against his sword hilt. "That makes them incredibly dangerous. They don''t have the speed to match us, but their ability to predict our strikes neutralizes that advantage. It''s almost like fighting someone who''s fought a hundred battles before you''ve even unsheathed your sword."


    Kira smirked slightly, her voiceced with dry humor. "So, what you''re saying is, they''re slow-moving tanks with predictive abilities. Wonderful."


    There was a quiet chuckle from across the room.


    Ji-Hoon, the team''sbat strategist, who had been observing the conversation, leaned forward. His soft-spoken voice broke the silence.


    "What''s concerning is that they are not panicking. Most orcs we''ve fought before have a tendency to charge blindly. But this group¡ªthey''re calcted. They''re sticking to their leader''smands.


    "So when we try to be arrogant to frustrate them, unlike Orcs who were easily provoked from other times, they are not easily angered¡­"


    Jin, his eyes narrowed, added, "Their shields are thick, their defense is near imprable, and if we engage them in closebat, they''ll crush us with their raw power."


    Kira shrugged, sliding the rifle scope back into ce with a loud click. "They''re tough, sure. But they can''t avoid getting shot forever. We just need to be patient and pick them off from a distance."


    Just as the conversation reached a tense lull, one of the long-range Pirs, So-Won, shifted ufortably from his spot by the window.


    His fingers danced over the trigger of his energy rifle, his eyes scanning the horizon through the building''s shattered windows. "Maybe we should move in too. They won''t expect us to engage them directly. We could nk them, create an opening."


    Lin Seok, shaking his head slowly, held up a hand to stop him. "No. Standby for now. You and the other long-range units are our secret weapons. If we send you in too early, we''ll lose our advantage."


    So-Won, clearly frustrated, sighed and leaned back, but he respected Lin Seok''smand.


    The long-range Pirs knew they had a crucial role to y, but they also understood the value of timing.


    Kira raised an eyebrow at Lin Seok, silently questioning the decision, but said nothing. She knew better than to argue with him.


    Lin Seok turned back to the map. His finger tapped the location where the orcs had retreated into the undamaged part of the city.


    "They think they''re safe there, using the buildings and the humans as shields. But they''ve underestimated us."


    Jin straightened up, a cold gleam in his eyes. "So, what''s the n?"


    Lin Seok looked at his team, his confidence unshaken. "We attack again. This time, we push harder, faster. Break their defenses, wound as many as possible, and don''t give them time to regroup."


    A murmur of agreement passed through the room as the Pirs prepared themselves for another round of battle.


    Jin unsheathed his sword, the metallic shing sound cutting through the tension.


    Kira cocked her rifle, the faint hum of its energy cells charging up filled the air.


    The tension rose as each Pir readied themselves, their determination clear.


    "Let''s move out," Lin Seok ordered.


    ---


    The Pirs struck with brutal efficiency.


    The sound of boots hitting the pavement echoed as they moved through the streets like shadows.


    They were a blur of motion, appearing and disappearing among the ruins as they zeroed in on the orcs hiding behind the buildings.


    The speed and ferocity of their assault were unmatched, but even still, the orcs remained formidable.


    Fwoosh!


    An arrow from Kira''s sniper rifle shot through the air with a piercing screech, its target a hulking orc at the back of the formation.


    The arrow struck the orc''s shield with a thunderous thud!, barely missing its mark but staggering the beast.


    Before the orc could recover, Jin was already upon it. His katana shed in the sunlight, slicing through the air with a sharp whissss! as he struck at the orc''s leg.


    The orc let out a guttural roar, stumbling back, but it''s instinctive defense kicked in immediately.


    Its massive shield mmed down, deflecting Jin''s de with a deafening CLANG!


    The impact sent shockwaves through the ground, forcing Jin to back off. But even as he did, another Pir, Ji-Hoon,unched a barrage of energy sts from his gauntlets, targeting the orc''s exposed side.


    Zap! Zap! Zap!


    The orc growled, its body seared by the sts, but still, it stood, unyielding.


    Lin Seok watched from a distance, his eyes darting between hisrades and the orcs.


    Despite their slow movements, the orcs were holding their own.


    Each time a Pirnded a hit, the orcs shifted, adapting, their shields absorbing the brunt of the attacks.


    It was like fighting against a wall that could move and react.


    The sheer force of their defenses was beginning to take its toll.


    The Pirs continued their assault, striking from all sides, but the orcs were unrelenting.


    Their shields nged and banged, their grunts echoing through the city streets as they defended against every attack. And then, finally, the Pirs managed to break through.


    Jin''s katana shed again, this time catching an orc off guard.


    His de sliced through its arm, sending a spurt of blood into the air.


    The orc howled in pain, its shield dropping to the ground with a thud.


    Another orc, hit by Kira''s sniper shot, staggered back, its leg copsing under the weight of its injuries.


    The orcs were wounded, but even so, their resolve didn''t falter.


    They roared in defiance, their eyes glowing with battle lust, and their shields remained raised, ready to defend against the next wave of attacks.


    ---


    As the battle raged on, Lin Seok and his team regrouped in the safety of the buildings.


    Sweat dripped down their faces, their breathing heavy. The attacks had been sessful, but the cost had been high.


    "Damn," Kira muttered, leaning against the wall and wiping sweat from her brow. "Those things are tough. They''re not going down easily."


    Jin nodded, his sword still gleaming with orc blood. "We managed to wound them, but they''re still standing. Their shields are ridiculous."


    Lin Seok, despite hisposed demeanor, felt the weight of the situation. He nced at the remaining Pirs, noticing their exhausted expressions. "How''s everyone''s mana?"


    Ji-Hoon grimaced. "Halved. We''ve been pushing hard, and those defenses of theirs... they''re eating through our energy."


    Kira shook her head in frustration. "It''s like hitting a brick wall. Every time Ind a shot, they just raise those damn shields."


    Lin Seok didn''t respond immediately. He took a deep breath, ncing out the window at the battlefield.


    The orcs were still strong, even after everything they''d thrown at them.


    It was bing clear that this fight wasn''t going to be as simple as they had hoped.


    "We need to rethink our approach," Lin Seok said finally, his voice steady but determined. "These orcs are unlike any we''ve faced before. They may be slow, but their instincts... their resilience... we can''t underestimate them."

 Chapter 129: New Plan

    Meanwhile, in the Orc side, Volk paced back and forth, his massive frame radiating an aura of frustration.


    The mission.


    It was ticking away like a war drum in his head.


    Twenty minutes had already slipped through his fingers, and nothing had been achieved.


    Every second that passed without progress gnawed at him.


    Volk knew that if the system gave him a time limit, something catastrophic would follow.


    There was no room for failure.


    He had forty minutes left.


    Suddenly, his crimson eyes scanned the battlefield, narrowing as they settled on a distant building.


    Behind the crumbling walls, he could see the flicker of hope in the humans'' eyes¡ªespecially the younger ones, teenage kids who still clung to the belief that the fast Pirs would save them.


    That hope... it gave him an idea.


    Without wasting another second, Volk raised his voice, deep and guttural, to address his warband.


    "I''ve got a n," he dered, his tone sharp with urgency. The other orcs, who had been bellowing war cries and pounding their shields, quieted to listen.


    "We take some of those humans as hostages. Make them hesitate. Use them as shields. It''ll force their hand, make the soldiers think twice before they attack us with everything they''ve got!"


    For a moment, there was silence among the orcs, their glowing eyes flickering as they processed Volk''s words.


    Then, one by one, the grumbling began.


    An older orc, his tusks chipped and scarred from countless battles, stepped forward.


    "What?"


    His voice was a rumbling growl, filled with disdain.


    "Hostages? Using weaklings to win a battle? What kind of tactic is that, Warchief?"


    He spat the title with contempt, making the other orcs nod in agreement.


    Another orc, this one younger but equally as fierce, pounded his fist against his chest.


    "We are orcs! Battle is in our blood! We fight with honor and strength, not with tricks and cowardice! You would have us take prisoners? Hide behind the feeble?"


    Volk''s jaw tightened as the defiance rippled through the ranks.


    Several orcs started to murmur in agreement, the ground trembling beneath their massive feet.


    It was clear¡ªthey enjoyed the thrill of this fight too much to resort to what they saw as dishonorable tactics.


    They wanted to crush their enemies in a pure battle of might, not trick them into submission.


    Another voice boomed from the crowd.


    "And what of your blood, Volk?"


    Experience new tales on mvl


    The speaker stepped forward, his muscles bulging as he crossed his arms.


    "If you''re so keen on avoiding a proper fight, maybe your blood isn''t as pure as you im. Maybe you''ve forgotten what it means to be an orc!"


    The words hit Volk like a punch to the gut, but his expression remained stone cold.


    He scanned the crowd, sensing the brewing rebellion.


    Some of the orcs looked hesitant, while others seemed outright insulted by his n.


    They didn''t understand the stakes.


    They couldn''t.


    He couldn''t exactly tell them about the system that bound his very survival. But now, he was stuck between a rock and a hard ce.


    His warriors had their own minds, and though he could crush their skulls in a show of dominance, it wasn''t the right time for that.


    He needed them united, not broken.


    One of the orcs, a hulking brute with a gnarled axe, snorted.


    "Besides, those fast warriors¡ªthose so-called Pirs¡ªthey''re already running low on mana.


    "You can see it in their movements. They''re slowing down. If we wait, we can overpower them in a proper fight. Isn''t that better than cowering behind weaklings?"


    Volk gritted his teeth, feeling the anger rising in his chest.


    He wanted to shout at them, to beat sense into their thick skulls. But he knew it wouldn''t work.


    No time.


    He had to think smarter.


    These orcs were bound by their honor and battle instincts.


    If he couldn''t appeal to their fear of shrinking or their loyalty, perhaps he could manipte their desires. There was no other choice.


    Suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind, and Volk''s eyes glimmered with cold determination.


    His voice lowered to a menacing growl as he stepped forward,manding the attention of the entire horde.


    "Listen closely," he began, his voice like the rumble of aing storm.


    "The dungeon is watching us. It''s not just about winning this battle¡ªit''s about surviving in the long run. If we don''t kill these fast warriors in the next ten minutes, we''ll start to shrink. All of us."


    The crowd of orcs grew still.


    Their eyes widened, muscles tensing as they absorbed his words.


    The thought of shrinking, of bing weak and powerless, sent ripples of shock through the group.


    Their primal fear had been touched, and Volk could see it in their faces.


    "You all felt it before, didn''t you?" Volk continued, his voice growing louder.


    "The weakening, the shrinking! The feeling of losing your strength! It''ll happen again if we don''t act now. And this time, we won''t have the Elven Witches or our wives to reverse it. This is our only chance to stay in our strongest forms!"


    One orc, his hands trembling slightly, stepped forward. "Are you sure, Warchief?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.


    Volk turned to face him, locking eyes with the warrior. His expression was deadly serious. "I''m sure. We''ve already lost time. If we don''t act now, we won''t have another chance. This is the dungeon''s will."


    The orcs exchanged nervous nces, their confidence shaken.


    The thrill of battle still burned in their eyes, but now, there was something else¡ªfear.


    The fear of losing their power, of shrinking back into weak, feeble forms. It gnawed at their pride, making them question their instincts.


    Another orc spoke up, his voice wavering. "But the fast warriors... if they''re low on mana, shouldn''t we just wait? Let them tire themselves out?"


    Volk clenched his fists, his patience wearing thin.


    "If we wait, we risk losing everything. Do you want to go back to being weak? To depend on others for your strength? Or do you want to stay strong, to stay in control?"


    The orcs hesitated, but the fear of shrinking was now overpowering their desire for a straightforward battle.


    Slowly, they began to nod, their resistance crumbling under Volk''s logic.


    The idea of holding onto their strength was too appealing to ignore.


    One by one, the orcs grunted in agreement, their massive heads bobbing. "Fine," one of them growled. "We''ll follow your n. But only because we trust you, Warchief."


    Volk''s lips curled into a faint smile. He had won. "Good. Then prepare yourselves. We''ll move in now and take them down. No more waiting.


    No more chances."


    The orcs, though still grumbling under their breath, began to ready themselves for the assault.


    Shields were raised, weapons gripped tightly, and a newfound sense of urgency filled the air.


    The horde was still battle-hungry, but now, they were focused.


    Volk, standing tall at the front of his warriors, turned his gaze toward the city where the Pirs were regrouping.


    He could still see the glimmers of hope in the humans'' eyes from afar, but soon, that hope would be crushed.


    They wouldn''t know what hit them.


    "Follow me," he barked. His voice cut through the noise like a de, sharp andmanding.


    The orcs fell into formation behind him, their footsteps shaking the ground as they prepared to strike.


    As Volk led his horde through the ruined streets, he clenched his fists tighter, feeling the weight of the mission still lingering over him.


    He had managed to sway his warriors this time, but deep down, he knew he was walking a fine line.


    One misstep, and everything could fall apart.


    He had toplete the mission.


    Failure wasn''t an option¡ªnot if he wanted to see Solluha''r again and keep the Nuclear Devastation Strike!


    The war drums in his mind quickened their beat, he matched the pulse of his heavy heart.


    "Lok''tar Ogaaaaaaar!!!"

 Chapter 130: Pillars tight spot

    Lin Seok stood on the rooftop, his eyes scanning the battlefield below.


    The chaotic streets were littered with the bodies of the fallen, and smoke billowed from buildings that had been reduced to rubble.


    His breathing was heavy, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the scene.


    Suddenly, one of the orcs moved.


    Something was different¡ªsomething unsettling.


    He squinted, focusing on their movements.


    The horde was splitting into three groups, each heading in a different direction.


    Lin Seok knew that these Orcs are intelligent.


    So he assumed that this wasn''t the typical mindless charge of battle-hungry orcs.


    No, this was calcted.


    Strategic.


    "What are they nning?" Lin Seok muttered under his breath, his brow furrowed in concern. He quickly turned to the other Pirs gathered around him. "Are the others sent here? Where are they now?"


    A young Pir with bright, anxious eyes and a deep cut across his cheek shook his head. "They''re taking civilians away, trying to evacuate them before the orcs can get to them."


    Lin Seok''s heart dropped. "Wait. Civilians?" His mind raced as he turned his gaze back toward the nearest building where the orcs were headed.


    The structure was still mostly intact, standing tall in the midst of the carnage. He saw movement in the windows¡ªsmall figures huddled together. His breath caught in his throat.


    "No... no, no, no!" His voice rose to a shout. "Stop them! That building¡ªit''s full of kids!"


    Panic spread among the Pirs like wildfire.


    One of them, a veteran with deep-set eyes, looked horrified. "But... Orcs don''t hurt the weak! The women, the elderly, children¡ªthey never have in all the years we''ve fought them! The orcs that havee through other cracks have always spared the helpless. What kind of orcs are these?"


    Lin Seok didn''t have an answer, but he could feel a deep pit forming in his stomach.


    Even earlier, he could feel that these aren''t the orcs they were used to facing.


    They are more intelligent and more brilliant just what they did to the buildings of the other part of the city.


    Seeing them go to the children.


    He was thinking something.


    These orcs could be ruthless.


    Calcted.


    Dangerous in ways they hadn''t expected.


    The veteran Pir''s voice rose in desperation. "We need to stop them now!"


    Lin Seok snapped into action, barking orders into his earpiece. "Get the helicopters! Gun them down before they reach the building!"


    Momentster, the whirring of rotor des echoed through the air as the helicopters swooped in, their mounted guns aimed squarely at the advancing orcs.


    The soldiers inside were tense, their hands steady on their triggers.


    "Take the shot," Lin Seok ordered.


    BRRRRRRRRRTTTT!!!


    The sound of machine-gun fire filled the sky as the helicopters opened fire, the rounds raining down on the orcs.


    Bullets whizzed through the air, striking the ground and sending up plumes of dust and debris. But the orcs were undeterred.


    One massive orc, his skin dark and scarred, raised his club high above his head.


    With a roar that shook the very air around him, he swung the weapon with incredible force.


    The club smashed into one of the helicopters, sending it spiraling out of control.


    The machine veered off course, its tail spinning wildly before it crashed into the side of a building with a deafening bang.


    mes erupted from the wreckage.


    "Lok''tar Ogaaaaaaar!!!"


    The orcs'' war cries filled the air as theyughed, mocking the humans'' futile efforts.


    Another helicopter attempted to swoop in for another attack, but a second orc hurled a massive chunk of debris at it.


    The projectile struck the helicopter squarely, sending it tumbling from the sky in a ball of fire.


    Lin Seok''s eyes widened in shock. "What... what are they doing?" He couldn''t believe it.


    The orcs were taking down helicopters with nothing but brute strength.


    These weren''t the mindless savages he had fought before.


    These were something else entirely¡ªmonsters in every sense of the word.


    On the ground, the orcs wereughing, taunting the humans as they advanced. "Weak!" one of them bellowed, his voice booming across the battlefield. "Humans are weak! Your annoying little weapons can''t stop us! It won''t even pierce our skins! Lok''tar Ogar!"


    Another orc, grinning wickedly, pointed at a group of soldiers huddling behind a destroyed barricade. "Come out and fight like real warriors! Or is hiding all you humans know how to do?"


    The Pirs exchanged uneasy nces.


    The orcs were using their brute strength and cunning in ways they hadn''t expected.


    They were fast, unpredictable, and relentless. And now, they were heading straight for the building full of children.


    "Stop those orcs!" Lin Seok shouted, his voice desperate. "Do whatever it takes, but stop them!"


    The ranked Pirs sprang into action, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, closing the distance between them and the orcs.


    Lin Seok drew his sword, with its de gleaming in the dim light.


    He charged forward, leading the assault, his heart pounding in his ears.


    But the orcs were already scaling the building, their massive hands gripping the sides as they climbed with rming speed.


    The Pirs reached them just as the first few orcs made it to the windows.


    Lin Seok shed at one of the orcs, his de biting into thick green flesh.


    The orc grunted, staggering back but not falling.


    Another Pir fired a bolt of energy that hit an orc square in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground below with a sickening thud. But it wasn''t enough.


    More orcs were already mbering up the side of the building, their eyes set on their prize.


    Inside the building, the children could see the monstrous forms approaching through the cracked windows.


    Fear filled the air, and the sound of their panicked cries echoed through the halls.


    "Help! Mommy! Daddy!"


    The children screamed, their tiny voices trembling with terror.


    They huddled together, their eyes wide with fear as the orcs reached the windows, their massive hands smashing through the ss.


    "Stop them!" one of the ranked Pirs shouted, sting an orc with a powerful attack that sent him flying off the building. But even as they took down a few, more took their ce.


    The orcs were relentless.


    Lin Seok''s heart raced as he fought to hold the line, but he could see it in the eyes of the other Pirs.


    They were losing ground.


    The orcs were too strong, too determined.


    And then, with a sickening realization, Lin Seok watched as a group of tanner-skinned orcs, tougher and more brutal than the rest, broke through the windows and snatched the children from their hiding ces.


    The orcs grabbed them with terrifying ease, lifting them into the air as if they weighed nothing.


    The children''s screams pierced the air, their small hands reaching out desperately for help. "No! Please! Don''t take us!"


    Lin Seok''s heart sank. "No!" he shouted, charging forward, his sword raised high. But it was toote.


    The orcs had already secured their prizes.


    They moved with a chilling efficiency, leaping from the windows and carrying the children down to the streets below.


    "Hold your fire!" one of the Pirs yelled, his voice strained with panic. "Don''t shoot! They''ve got the kids!"


    The soldiers froze, their fingers hovering over their triggers. Discover exclusive content at mvl


    They couldn''t risk hitting the children.


    The orcs had them, and now the humans were powerless to stop them.


    Back on the street, the orcs regrouped, their boomingughter filling the air.


    "Lok''tar Ogaaar!" they roared, holding the children aloft like trophies.


    Their mocking jeers echoed through the streets as they dared the humans to make a move.


    Lin Seok stood on the rooftop, his sword hanging limply by his side.


    His chest heaved with frustration and fear.


    They had lost this round.


    The orcs had the upper hand, and there was nothing they could do.


    The orcs continued tough, their voices loud and mocking as they paraded their captives.


    The sight of it¡ªthe children crying, helpless in the grip of those monstrous hands¡ªmade Lin Seok''s blood boil. But there was nothing he could do.


    The battle was far from over, but the orcs had just proven they were more cunning and ruthless than anyone had expected.

 Chapter 131: When the children die

    The orcsughed, their deep, guttural voices echoing through the war-torn streets as they held their ground against the relentless assault of the human Ranked Pirs.


    BRAHAHAHHAHAHA!


    GRUHAHAHAHHAHA!


    KYARUHUHUHUHU!


    Bullets whizzed through the air, and the loud, thunderous BANG! BANG! BANG! of gunfire filled the atmosphere, but the orcs barely flinched.


    Their thick hides and bone clubs absorbed the brunt of the attacks, and their confidence only seemed to grow with each failed human assault.


    Volk stood amidst his horde, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the battlefield.


    His heart was thumping so hard, not from the heat of battle, but from a growing time that was being wasted.


    He could even hear the ticking clock in his mind.


    Every second slipping away felt like sand through his fingers.


    The system''s countdown felt fast¡ªforty minutes left, and still, they were no closer to victory.


    His jaw clenched.


    They needed to end this.


    Fast.


    "We don''t have time for this," Volk muttered under his breath, gripping his axe tighter.


    His thoughts turned to his Grum-gar form¡ªthe towering, radioactive behemoth that could turn the tide of battle in an instant.


    If he could just tap into that power, they could finish this once and for all.


    But before he could voice his n, a deep chuckle rose beside him.


    Grashk, his friend orc in the same age, now holding a massive, bone club he wielded like a shield, turned to Volk with a knowing grin.


    "I know what you''re thinking¡­ You think you can turn into Grum-gar form?"


    Grashk said, his voice thick with amusement. "Even if you try, you won''t be able to, Volk." He grunted as he raised his club, blocking another barrage of bullets from the Pirs'' guns.


    Volk was surprised, "How do you-" then his eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" he growled, half-deflecting a st with his own axe, the edge of it scraping against the iing projectiles.


    Grashk''sughter rumbled deep in his chest as he mmed his club into the ground, sending a shockwave that rattled the nearby debris.


    "Our wives," he said, eyes glinting with mischief. "We can only turn into Grum-gar if they are near. But now¡­ they are realms apart. We can''t transform, not while they''re so far away."


    Volk felt a jolt of surprise course through him. He hadn''t known this. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the information. He had been counting on his Grum-gar form as ast resort, but now¡­


    "How can that be?" Volk asked, his voice tight as he parried another iing attack with his axe. "What if we transform? What does it mean?"


    Grashk raised his bone club high, and with a savage grin, he brought it crashing down into the earth again, cracking the stone beneath their feet.


    "If we transform," he began, his voice almost reverent, "it means we don''t need our wives anymore. And if we don''t need them, it means we can do whatever we want. Plus, it''s a sign we''ll never shrink again. That''s why we protect the elven witches. That''s why we always return to them."


    Volk''s mind began to spin.


    Protecting the witches¡ªthat had always been the priority for orcs like Grashk.


    They believed their power was tied to them. But Volk had never needed a wife to transform.


    Back when he first unlocked his radioactive form, he didn''t have Solluha''r by his side.


    How had he managed to awaken his power then?


    "Why was I able to transform without my wife? Why could I use the Grum-gar form back then?" Volk demanded, his voiceced with confusion.


    Grashk nced at him, his grin fading slightly. "You were in a territory," he said simply.


    "A territory filled with battle, blood, and the energy of war. Especially magic. That''s why you could. But if you had been in the Catbs, facing the Warlock without a wife, you wouldn''t have been able to transform. That''s the way it works."


    Volk felt a knot of frustration form in his chest. Experience more content on mvl


    So that was the secret?


    It had to do with the territory?


    It didn''t matter now.


    He didn''t have time to dwell on it.


    Whether or not Grashk was right, Volk was still confident in his system.


    He could still transform into his radioactive form.


    But the question remained¡ªhow would the other orcs react? If he used his radioactive form, which was simr to Grum-gar, would they start to believe they didn''t need the witches anymore?


    Would it change their entire belief system? And if that happened, how could he control them?


    His thoughts began to run as he deflected another volley of attacks from the Ranked Pirs.


    Grashk was right about one thing¡ªif the orcs thought they no longer needed their wives, it could lead to chaos.


    They might refuse to return to their old ways, and that would cause a rift in their ranks.


    Especially, right now.


    Volk couldn''t afford that right now.


    But there was something else gnawing at him¡ªwhy had he been able to transform without a wife, while the others couldn''t?


    How had he broken the rules that bound his kind?


    He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts.


    It didn''t matter.


    What mattered now waspleting the mission.


    The children they had captured were useful as hostages, but Volk knew it would take time to wear down the Pirs and kill them all. And time was something he didn''t have.


    He needed to lure the Ranked Pirs into a trap.


    A quick, decisive strike.


    His mind sharpened as he watched the battlefield unfold before him.


    The humans were relentless, but Volk could sense their exhaustion. Their mana reserves were running low.


    The speed and ferocity of their attacks were beginning to falter.


    That''s when Volk knew it was time to act.


    A cold smile curled across his lips as he turned to his horde. "Get ready," hemanded, his voice low but filled with authority. "We''ll lure them in."


    The orcs grinned, their bloodlust rising. Even Grashk, who had been musing about their inability to transform, nodded in agreement.


    They were eager for battle, and Volk could feel their excitement building.


    Volk raised his axe, the heavy de gleaming in the pale light of the dying sun. His muscles tensed as he prepared for the next wave of attacks.


    The human Pirs were nearly spent.


    He could see it in their movements¡ªtheir hesitation, their slower reactions.


    As the next barrage of human firepower hit their shields, Volk stepped forward, blocking with his axe.


    Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off his weapon, and for a moment, the battlefield seemed to still.


    The humans were tiring, and the orcs were ready.


    Volk turned toward the building where the children were held.


    He nced at them, huddled together, eyes wide with terror.


    They were weak, defenseless.


    A perfect bait.


    With a deliberate motion, Volk raised his axe high into the air.


    The human Pirs watched in horror, their eyes widening as they realized what was about to happen.


    Without a second thought, Volk brought the axe down, aiming directly at the children.


    The battlefield fell silent, save for the soft whimpering of the terrified children.


    The Ranked Pirs, though weakened, sprang into action, their voices rising in panic.


    "NO! STOP HIM!"


    Volk''s grin widened as he felt the tide of the battle finally turning in his favor.


    The trap was set.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 132: First Blood

    Lin Seok stood at the edge of the battle, watching as the other Pirs geared up to charge toward the orcs.


    His heart felt like a hammer pounding his chest in a thrumming hard, but not from fear¡ªno, it was anger.


    He could see the trap unfolding before his very eyes.


    The orcs wereughing, their guttural voices echoing through the broken streets, and they were looking directly at the Pirs with a twisted kind of amusement.


    They weren''t moving to harm the children.


    Not yet.


    However, he''s sure that it''s a trap!


    "Hold your ground!"


    Lin Seok''s voice rang out sharply, cutting through the noise of the battlefield.


    He turned toward the ranked Pirs, his eyes locking onto the closest one, a tall, broad-shouldered man named Jihoon, known for his reckless bravery.


    "Jihoon! Listen to me. It''s a trap. They''re using the children as bait. If you rush in now, they''ll¡ª"


    But Jihoon''s eyes shed with stubborn defiance. "We can''t just stand here, Seok! They have kids in there!"


    His voice was full of conviction, his knuckles white as he gripped his sword tightly.


    "You think we can just watch and wait while those monsters threaten them? What kind of heroes would we be? So what if it''s bait? We are faster, as long as we keep attacking, we will find a gap and take advantage of it!"


    Lin Seok clenched his fists, barely holding back the urge to scream.


    "I''m not saying we leave the children! But if you rush in like this, without a n, they''ll pick you off one by one. The orcs know what they''re doing. Look at them! They''re waiting for you to tire yourselves out. They''re not stupid!


    "Plus, that''s what we are doing! We are watching them to find a gap to their defense!"


    Next to Jihoon, another Pir, Sunwoo, a fire mage with a temper as hot as his spells, spat on the ground.


    "Lin Seok, you''re not the boss here. You don''t get to make all the calls. We''re Pirs too. We can make our own decisions. Plus, we won''t see a gap if we don''t try and find one!"


    Lin Seok''s eyes burned with frustration as he scanned the faces of the other Pirs.


    He could see the conflict in their eyes, the tension between wanting to save the children and the nagging fear that he might be right. But Sunwoo and Jihoon weren''t listening.


    They were already inching forward, with their eyes set on the building where the children were huddled, terrified and helpless.


    "Goddamn it, Jihoon, Sunwoo, this isn''t about being the boss! You two are so easy to fool!" Lin Seok''s voice cracked with desperation. "This is about survival. Look at them! Look at the orcs! They''re not charging¡ªthey''reughing.


    They''re baiting us!"


    Jihoon shot Lin Seok a hard look over his shoulder. "We don''t have time for this, Seok. I won''t let innocent kids die just because we were too scared to act." He nced at Sunwoo, who nodded back at him, and they both started forward.


    Lin Seok stepped in front of them, blocking their path. "No, Jihoon, stop! Think for a second. If you go in there now, without backup, you''ll be ying right into their hands!"


    "Get out of my way," Jihoon growled, shoving Lin Seok aside. "You want to stay here and strategize while those kids die? Fine. But I won''t stand here and do nothing."


    Lin Seok stumbled but caught himself, fury boiling in his veins. "Jihoon, you idiot! They''re not going to kill the kids! They''re using them to draw you in!"


    Sunwoo''s fiery eyes red at Lin Seok, his patience gone. "You think they care about strategy more than blood? They''re orcs! They''ll kill those kids in a heartbeat if we don''t stop them."


    "And you think rushing in there will save them?!" Lin Seok barked back. "Look at them, Sunwoo! They''re waiting for you to get close! You''re just feeding them your energy. That''s what they want!"


    Jihoon clenched his teeth, turning back toward the building. "I don''t care, Seok. I''m not standing here while those monsters hold kids hostage. You can stay here and bark orders all you want, but I''m going in."


    Lin Seok''s heart dropped as he saw Jihoon, Sunwoo, and several other Pirs break formation, running toward the building.


    He wanted to scream, to grab them and pull them back. But it was toote.


    His stomach twisted as he watched them sprint toward theughing orcs, their weapons drawn, determination in their eyes.


    But the orcs¡­ they weren''t moving. They were standing there, smiling, watching the Pirs wear themselves down.


    "Stop, you fools!" Lin Seok shouted, his voice hoarse with desperation. "They''re tiring you out! They''re not going to attack the children! They''re waiting for the right moment!"


    He could see it now, clearer than ever.


    The orcs were ying a long game.


    They weren''t attacking.


    They were letting the Pirs exhaust themselves. And once the Pirs were spent, once their mana was drained and their strength waned, then the orcs would strike.


    "Jihoon!" Lin Seok called out, his voice raw. "Fall back! They''re ying with you! Get back here before it''s toote!"


    But his words fell on deaf ears. Jihoon and the others were too focused on the children.


    Too caught up in their righteous need to save them. Explore hidden tales at mvl


    Lin Seok cursed under his breath, watching in horror as the orcs'' grins widened.


    The air was thick with tension as the Pirs drew closer. And then, suddenly, one of the orcs¡ªa light-skinned, tanner one, bigger than the others¡ªraised his massive axe, aiming it directly at the children.


    "No¡­ NO!" Lin Seok screamed, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see it now¡ªthe trap was closing in.


    The moment the orc raised his axe, Jihoon, Sunwoo, and the other Pirs surged forward in a desperate attempt to stop him.


    They were too focused on saving the children, too blinded by their need to be heroes.


    They didn''t see the rest of the orcs move.


    In a blur of motion, the orcs lunged.


    Their massive weapons, bone clubs, and axes swung through the air with deadly precision. And before Jihoon, Sunwoo, or any of the other Pirs could react, they were caught in the onught.


    The sound of crushing bone and tearing flesh filled the air.


    The Pirs didn''t even have time to scream.


    Lin Seok stood frozen in horror as he watched hisrades¡ªhis friends¡ªbe nothing more than meat paste beneath the orcs'' brutal assault.


    Blood sttered across the broken pavement, pooling beneath the feet of theughing orcs.


    "NO!"


    Lin Seok''s voice became like a broken wail, with his body trembling with rage and disbelief.


    He couldn''t move.


    He couldn''t tear his eyes away from the carnage.


    His mind screamed at him to do something, to fight, but he was paralyzed by the sheer horror of what he had just witnessed.


    The orcs stood over the mangled bodies of the ten Pirs,ughing and grinning like beasts who had just feasted on fresh prey.


    Lin Seok''s heart raced, his breathing in ragged gasps. His mind reeled, causing him not to think anything at this moment.


    They had walked right into the trap, just as he had feared. And now¡­ it was toote.

 Chapter 133: Let me handle it

    Lin Seok stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest, the image of the first group of Ranked Pirs¡ªnow nothing more than a mangled mess of blood and bone¡ªstill fresh in his mind.


    His mind couldn''t help but go spiral, consumed by the gravity of what had just happened.


    He had lostrades, people he fought beside for years, in mere seconds. And now, with only fourteen left, the burden weighed heavily on him.


    The battlefield was eerily still for a moment, the orcs standing in the distance, as though savoring their recent victory.


    Theirughter echoed through the streets, mocking the Pirs and sending chills down Lin Seok''s spine.


    They hadn''t just defeated the Pirs; they had annihted them with terrifying efficiency.


    And then, he saw it¡ªthe orc, a hulking figure towering over the battlefield, with a child clutched in his enormous hand.


    The child was plump, his round face streaked with tears and snot. He was trembling in fear, his small voice barely audible as he whimpered for his mother.


    Lin Seok''s breath caught in his throat. "No¡­" he whispered under his breath. "They wouldn''t¡­ they wouldn''t hurt the children."


    The other Pirs stirred, their attention drawn to the orc as well. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with dread.


    One of the Pirs, a woman named Hyejin, who had been silent until now, broke the quiet. "Seok, you still think they won''t hurt the kids?" Her voice was sharp, filled with disbelief and usation. "Look at them! They''re monsters!"


    Lin Seok shook his head, his hands trembling. "Orcs¡­ orcs have a code. They don''t kill children. It''s¡ª" He struggled to find the words, to hold onto the shred of hope he still had. "It''s not their way."


    Hyejin scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "And you''re willing to gamble the lives of innocent children on that?"


    "They''re using them as bait!" Lin Seok shouted, frustration bubbling up inside him. "If we rush in, we''ll end up like Jihoon and the others! Dead! They''re waiting for us to make a mistake!"


    Another Pir, Minjae, mmed his fist into the wall beside him, the brick crumbling under the force of the impact. "What if you''re wrong, Seok?! What if they kill that kid right now?! Are you willing to stand here and do nothing?"


    Lin Seok clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He looked at the orc holding the child, his mind racing.


    He could feel the weight of their eyes on him, waiting for his decision, but doubt gnawed at his insides.


    What if he was wrong? What if they did kill the child? But if they rushed in¡­


    "We can''t just charge in blindly!" Lin Seok barked, his voice hoarse. "That''s exactly what they want! We have to be smarter than that."


    Hyejin''s face twisted with anger. "Smarter? Smarter? Jihoon''s dead because of your ''smart'' tactics, Seok! How many more have to die before you realize that this isn''t a game?"


    Minjae stepped forward, his face red with fury. "You think you''re the only one who knows what''s going on? You think we''re idiots? We can see the trap, too! But we can''t just stand here and do nothing! What kind of Pirs are we if we let children die?!"


    Lin Seok opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. He couldn''t argue with that. He couldn''t ignore the fact that children''s lives were at stake, and doing nothing went against everything he believed in. But rushing in blindly¡­


    "We need a n," Lin Seok muttered, his voice cracking. "If we charge now, we''ll all¡ª"


    His words were cut short by a horrifying sound.


    Whoosh.


    The orc holding the child raised its arm, and before anyone could react, hurled the fat child into the air.


    The boy''s scream pierced the battlefield, his cry of "Mommy!" echoing as he flew helplessly through the air.


    His small, round body twisted in the sky, and in that split second, everything seemed to slow down.


    Lin Seok''s heart stopped.


    Squash.


    The child''s body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and in an instant, his small frame exploded into a cloud of blood and mist, painting the ground red.


    For a moment, there was only silence. The world stood still.


    Then chaos erupted.


    Hyejin screamed, her face contorted in horror. "No! No! Oh God, no!" She turned on Lin Seok, her voice dripping with venom. "You let this happen! You let that child die!"


    Minjae''s face twisted with rage as he pointed a shaking finger at Lin Seok. "This is your fault! You could have stopped them, but you didn''t! You let that kid die!"


    The remaining Pirs surrounded him, their faces full of anger, fear, and grief. "It''s on you, Seok!" someone shouted from behind him. "You let those monsters kill that kid!"


    Lin Seok stumbled backward, his breathing in ragged gasps. His vision blurred, and for a moment, all he could see was the blood. The blood on the ground. The blood on his hands.


    "I¡ª" His voice trembled. "I didn''t¡­"


    But they weren''t listening. They were already moving.


    "Go!" Hyejin shouted, her voice full of fury. "We can''t let them kill any more kids!"


    The fourteen remaining Pirs charged, their weapons raised, and Lin Seok could only watch in horror as they sprinted toward the orcs, rage and desperation driving them forward.


    Bang! Bang! Bang!


    Explosions rocked the battlefield as the Pirs unleashed their magic, fireballs, and lightning crackling through the air.


    The orcs, however, were prepared. They raised their massive weapons and use them as shields, deflecting the attacks with ease.


    Even as the ground shook from the force of the Pirs'' assault, the orcs stood firm,ughing.


    Hyejin hurled a bolt of fire at the nearest orc, but it bounced off his thick armor, barely singeing his skin.


    "Damn it!" she screamed, frustration and panic evident in her voice. "Why aren''t they going down?!" Continue your adventure with mvl


    The orcs retaliated.


    With a roar, one of the orcs swung his club, smashing it into the ground.


    "Lok''tar Ogaaaaaaar!!"


    The shockwave knocked two of the Pirs off their feet, sending them crashing into the rubble.


    Hyejin barely managed to stay on her feet, but the others were struggling.


    Lin Seok could only watch in horror as the battle raged on.


    The Pirs were outmatched, their attacks doing little to slow the orcs down. And the orcs knew it.


    They were toying with them, ying with their food before delivering the killing blow.


    "Stop! You''re too tired!" Lin Seok shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the chaos.


    It didn''t take long for the orcs to overpower them.


    One by one, the remaining Pirs fell, their bodies battered and broken.


    Only six were left standing, their energy nearly spent, and their attacks growing weaker with each passing second.


    Lin Seok''s heart sank as he looked at his phone. The higher-ranked Pirs were still twenty minutes away. "We need to hold out," he muttered under his breath. "We need to dy them¡ª"


    "We''re helpless!" Hyejin cried, her voice filled with despair. "They''re going to kill all the kids, and we can''t stop them!"


    Lin Seok''s chest tightened, and he felt the weight of their impending failure pressing down on him.


    "That leader¡­ it''s because of him!"


    He said as he looked at the Volk, leading the Orcs.


    He didn''t know what to do. His mind was a blur of panic and confusion, and nothing made sense anymore.


    Suddenly, a voice cut through the chaos.


    "You just need to take out the leader, right?"


    Lin Seok whipped around, his eyes widening.


    Standing behind him was a teenager, his face calm andposed amidst the carnage.


    "What¡­?" Lin Seok stammered, his heart racing. "Who are you?"


    The teenager''s eyes gleamed with confidence as he stepped forward, his gaze locked on Volk, the orc leader. "Let me handle it."


    Lin Seok stared at him, disbelief and hope warring in his mind.


    Could this kid really make a difference?


    Could he stop the orcs?


    He had no other choice.


    "Go," Lin Seok whispered, his voice barely audible.


    He had no hope for the kid but, since he looked confident, why not let him try.


    After all, a lot of heroic and unexinable thingstely, and this kid was always a part of it even though he''s new.


    And with that, the teenager charged toward the orc leader.

 Chapter 134: Unknown Teenager

    Volk stood tall, the towering leader of the Orc horde, his bulging muscles flexing beneath his rough skin, sweat and dirt smeared across his face.


    His breath came out in heavy, angry puffs as his eyes scanned the battlefield.


    The six unknown human fighters had been giving his Orcs a surprisingly hard time.


    For warriors as big and brutal as the Orcs, it was almost humiliating. Still, despite the chaos, Volk knew he was close topleting his mission.


    He needed twenty-five kills, and these six wouldn''t be enough.


    There was one more.


    He frowned deeply as he surveyed the scene, eyes narrowing in frustration.


    The sh of steel against Orc shields filled the air, mingled with the grunts and roars of battle.


    The six humans were fast¡ªalmost unnaturally so¡ªdarting in and out ofbat like blurs.


    Orc after Orc swung at them with massive weapons, but the humans dodged with ease, countering with sharp strikes that managed to wound some of Volk''s best warriors.


    Volk''s knuckles tightened around the hilt of his massive axe.


    With every swing, an echo of WHOOSH cut through the air, but even his own attacks seemed too slow for these wretched humans.


    He gritted his teeth, eyes darting between the fleeing humans and the battlefield.


    Each time they struck, the humans would sh in and out of view like ghosts, slipping through the tight formation of Orcs.


    In the midst of the battle, one of Volk''s Orcs, a particrly hefty warrior with a jagged club, took a wild swing at a human zipping past him. Find more chapters on §Þ??


    THWACK!


    The club smashed into the concrete wall instead, sending cracks webbing out from the impact.


    "Too slow, too slow!" The humanughed as he sped by.


    The Orc growled in frustration, lifting the club again and bellowing, "You''re fast, but you''re not tough! I''ve seen blobs tougher than you!"


    He swung again, but the human was gone, vanished in a blur of speed before the club could connect.


    Volk watched this happen again and again, the humans slipping between his warriors like water. He could feel the frustration building in his chest, his jaw clenching with every failed strike.


    "They''re mocking us," Grashk, one of the Orcs beside Volk, muttered, his eyes filled with rage. "They think they can oust us."


    "It''s just their strategy but they''re getting slow!" another Orc jeered, even as he parried a flurry of strikes from a human fighter. "They''re fast, but they don''t have the strength and endurance to finish us!"


    Volk raised his axe high, the muscles in his arms straining with the effort.


    His eyes gleamed with fury.


    He needed more kills. He needed twenty-five, but these slippery humans had only cost him time, and he had only managed to strike down eighteen of them so far.


    Volk snarled under his breath, "Should I just kill all the children? That''ll draw them out."


    He nced back towards the hostages, the helpless children who were cowering in the corner of a crumbling building.


    They were trembling, fear etched into their faces as they huddled together.


    Volk''s mind raced. If the system wasn''t satisfied with these humans, he might have to resort to more drastic measures.


    Suddenly, one of the Orcs, bleeding from a dozen cuts, roared, "Where did they go?!"


    Volk''s sharp eyes scanned the battlefield, but the six humans were nowhere to be seen. He gritted his teeth, his fury bubbling over.


    "Cowards! Disappearing into thin air like the weaklings they are!" he growled. "I need those kills!"


    Once the three minutes were left, Volk would transform into his Radioactive form and destroy this city to make sure.


    The Orcs around him grumbled in confusion, unsure where their opponents had vanished to.


    There was an uneasy silence as the horde scanned their surroundings, waiting for the next attack.


    Volk, breathing heavily, ran his fingers through his greasy hair and then... he smiled.


    A wicked, predatory grin spread across his face as an idea struck him. "Since they won''te to me willingly, I''ll force them out!"


    With a swift turn, Volk marched toward the hostages.


    The trembling children watched in horror as the massive Orc approached them, his footsteps heavy on the broken pavement.


    He towered over them, hisrge hand reaching down to grab a plump, terrified child.


    The kid''s eyes were wide, tears streaming down his cheeks as Volk hoisted him into the air.


    The other Orcs began to cheer as Volk dangled the child before the battlefield. "Come out,e out, little humans, or I''ll devour him right here!"


    The boy''s screams filled the air. "M-Mommy! Daddy! Help me!" he sobbed, wriggling in Volk''s iron grip.


    Volk brought the child closer to his mouth, his jagged teeth glinting as he opened his jaw wide, ready to bite down. But just as he was about to sink his teeth into the boy, something shifted.


    There was a sudden, overwhelming WHOOSH in the air, like a thunderp had just erupted above them.


    Volk froze, his senses on high alert.


    The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the atmosphere changed.


    The air grew still for a moment before a powerful gust of wind rushed through the street, sending dust and debris flying in all directions.


    "What the¡ª?" Volk muttered, his grip on the child loosening slightly.


    A split secondter, there was a THOOM as a figure descended from above,nding with a force that cracked the pavement.


    A lone teenager, his hair wild and eyes burning with an intense energy, stepped forward from the swirling dust cloud.


    He walked slowly towards Volk, his expression calm but his presencemanding, as though he had walked straight out of a storm.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed at the neer, his grip tightening once again on the child.


    The Orcs around him grunted in confusion, ncing between each other and the lone teenager.


    "Who the hell is this?" Grashk muttered, taking a defensive stance.


    The teenager said nothing as he approached, his gaze locked on Volk.


    There was a sharpness in his eyes, a quiet fury that simmered beneath his calm exterior.


    He moved with confidence, with his steps sounding deliberate and unhurried.


    Volk''s lips curled into a sneer as he stared down at the boy. "Another human? You think you can take the Horde on alone, boy?"


    The teenager continued walking, unfazed by Volk''s taunt. His hands remained at his sides, rxed but ready.


    Without warning, Volk hurled the child towards the teenager with a vicious roar. "Catch him, if you can!"


    But the boy didn''t flinch.


    As the child flew through the air, the teenager blurred into action, moving faster than the eye could follow.


    SWOOSH¡ªin a blink, he was beneath the child, catching him gently in his arms before setting him down behind him.


    Volk''s sneer faltered for a brief moment as he watched the smooth, almost effortless movements of the boy. His confidence wavered, but only for a moment.


    "Impressive," Volk growled, his voice low and dangerous. "But you''re still just one boy."


    The Orcs, sensing a shift in the tension, gripped their weapons tighter. They stood ready, waiting for their Warchief''smand to attack.


    The teenager finally spoke, his voice steady and cold. "I''m not here to fight your horde. I''m here for you."


    Volk''s grin returned, wider and more savage than before. He mmed the butt of his axe into the ground, sending tremors through the earth. "For me?"

 Chapter 135: Draconic Graveyard

    Volk stared at the edgy teenager standing confidently before him, his head tilted slightly in curiosity.


    There was something absurd about the boy¡ªhis bravado, the way he carried himself as if he were already a legend. Volk chuckled to himself.


    Was this brat really the hero of this Ranker World?


    The main character?


    It was the dramatic entrance, of course.


    The gusts of wind, the perfect timing, the smug grin stered across his face¡ªit was all so obvious.


    Volk found it almost amusing.


    The thought of this overconfident child being the "chosen one" of this realm made him want tough.


    With a casual tilt of his head, Volk asked, "Are you part of the Ranked Pirs?"


    The teenager gave a small, cocky nod, his face smug with self-assurance. "Yeah," he said, dragging out the word as though it were a burden to admit. "Just joined. Lowest of the low, though. You know, fresh meat. Only been a Pir for a few days."


    Volk suppressed a smirk.


    Of course he''s new.


    He always knew the "main characters" were reckless, cocky, and loved to make grand entrances just like this. But Volk wasn''t worried.


    This boy had no idea who he was dealing with.


    Before Volk could retort, Lin Seok appeared behind the teenager, his face a mask of disbelief. "What do you mean by all of this?" Lin Seok demanded, his voiceced with a mix of frustration and confusion. "You just¡ªwalked in here? Do you have any idea what''s going on?"


    The teenager turned to him, still holding the kid he had just saved. He waved a hand dismissively, barely acknowledging Lin Seok''s concern. "Lin Seok-nim," the boy said, his voice annoyingly calm and self-assured. "Hold this kid for me, will you? I''ve got some business to handle."


    Lin Seok blinked, taken aback by the casual way the boy addressed him. "What? You can''t be serious¡ªhow are you nning to deal with their leader?"


    Without breaking a sweat, the teenager shed a smile that could only be described as insufferable. "Don''t worry," he said, cracking his knuckles dramatically. "I''ve got it covered. Watch and learn. I''ll seperate their leader first!"


    Volk raised an eyebrow.


    The audacity of this human!


    The sheer nerve!


    He''d never encountered a human this arrogant.


    The Orcs behind Volk exchanged confused nces, uncertain whether to be impressed or insulted.


    Lin Seok, still holding the trembling child, stared at the teenager in disbelief. "Separate the leader? How are you going to pull that off?"


    The teenager grinned wider, stepping forward and mming his foot into the ground with a theatrical flourish. "Like this!" he dered loudly, his voice echoing across the battlefield.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed as the atmosphere around them began to change.


    The once chaotic battlefield, littered with debris and the sounds of shing weapons from the still attacking Ranked Pirs against his Orc horde, suddenly fell eerily silent.


    The ground beneath Volk''s feet shifted.


    The city full of buildings and highway streets morphed slowly, almost painstakingly, into something darker, more twisted.


    The very air seemed to thicken with an oppressive weight.


    "Draconic Graveyard," the teenager muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a sickening satisfaction.


    The surroundings transformed before Volk''s eyes.


    The concrete crumbled away, reced by barren, cracked earth.


    The sky turned a murky gray, swirling with ck clouds that seemed to move unnaturally fast.


    Bones¡ªcountless, broken bones¡ªlittered thendscape, poking up from the ground like grotesque monuments to death.


    Massive dragon skullsy scattered across the barrennd, their empty eye sockets staring out into the endless wastnd.


    In the distance, an ominous, decaying moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale, sickly glow over everything.


    The stench of rot and decay filled Volk''s nostrils, sharp and overwhelming.


    It was a bleak, deste ce. A world of death.


    Volk''s grip on his axe tightened as he surveyed the transformation.


    He couldn''t deny it¡ªit was impressive.


    He hadn''t expected a human to wield such power, much less someone as young and cocky as this brat. But still, the grin never left his face.


    Did this kid really think trapping him in some over-the-top, death-riddled dimension would make a difference?


    Volk was excited, he would transform into Radioactive form and finish this brat off and thenplete the mission!


    The teenager, clearly pleased with himself, turned to Volk with that same irritating smirk. "Apologies," he said, his tone dripping with false humility. "My power''s still a bit... limited. I can''t bring your whole horde in here, just you. I''ll deal with the otherster."


    Volkughed, the sound deep and rumbling. He shook his head in amusement.


    "So, you think locking me away in this gloomy little domain of yours is going to change anything?" He took a step forward, his boots crunching over the brittle bones beneath him.


    "Do you really believe that outside, without me, your fellow humans are any safer? Aren''t you a little arrogant too for taking me on alone?"


    The teenager waved him off with a casual flick of his wrist. "Oh, don''t worry about them. They''ve got...pany." He nced back toward the entrance of the dimension, his grin growing wider.


    Back in the real world, the battlefield was eerily quiet.


    The moment Volk disappeared into the Draconic Graveyard, the Orc horde froze, momentarily confused by the sudden absence of their Warchief. But before they could react, the ground began to rumble beneath their feet.


    Glowing, violet circles appeared on the ground around the Orcs, slowly expanding as arcane symbols spread outward.


    Suddenly, bony hands thrust up from the earth.


    Skeleton knights, d in cracked, rusted armor, emerged from the glowing circles, their hollow eyes glowing with an eerie light.


    They held jagged swords, their bony limbs rattling as they moved forward.


    Grashk, one of therger Orcs, snorted in disgust. "What is this?!" he roared, raising his club to smash one of the skeletons. "More of your pathetic tricks, humans?!"


    He swung his weapon down with a mighty CRASH, but the skeleton barely flinched.


    The undead knight stepped forward, unfazed, and shed at Grashk''s arm with its jagged de. Continue reading stories on §Þ??


    The Orc howled in pain as the rusted weapon sliced through his flesh despite being strong.


    The other Orcs soon found themselves surrounded by the skeletal warriors.


    They roared in defiance, swinging their clubs and axes with all their might, but the undead knights were relentless.


    They moved as if they felt no pain, no fear¡ªjust a mindless, unstoppable force.


    Back in the Draconic Graveyard, Volk could sense the chaos unfolding in the real world. His horde was fighting something, but he couldn''t see what it was. He grinned, still unshaken.


    "Even without me," he growled, "my warriors will crush whatever pathetic n hadjured. Your tricks won''tst."


    The teenager, still wearing that same smug grin, crossed his arms over his chest. "We''ll see about that, won''t we?"


    Volk raised his axe, his eyes zing with fury.


    The bones beneath his feet crunched and snapped as he moved forward, his massive frame towering over the teenager.


    "I''ll enjoy stomping on your corpse," Volk snarled, his voice filled with malice.


    The teenager didn''t flinch. If anything, his grin widened. "Try me."


    A battle was about to begin, between main character and another main character?

 Chapter 136: Dead arise

    Volk sneered, his massive frame towering over the eerie, destendscape of the Draconic Graveyard.


    The bones crunched under his heavy boots as he sized up the edgy teenager who stood across from him.


    The kid was all cockiness, his smirk and casual stance clearly meant to provoke.


    Without a word, Volk kicked up a massive bone from the ground,unching it through the air toward the brat.


    He grinned wickedly as the bone flew, using its trajectory to hide his own movement as he charged forward behind it, axe in hand, ready to strike.


    The bone whizzed through the air.


    Swoosh!


    The teenager barely moved, his grin widening as he sidestepped the attack with ease.


    Volk''s eyes widened, but before he could adjust his approach, the teenager mumbled something under his breath.


    "Dead Exchange."


    Volk furrowed his brow.


    What the hell does that mean? But he had no time to think.


    He swung his massive axe down with a resounding BANG!


    The axe connected, but instead of meeting flesh, it cleaved through a skeleton warrior that appeared in the brat''s ce.


    The brittle bones shattered under the force of Volk''s blow, the skeleton crumbling into dust.


    Volk''s eyes flickered in confusion for a brief moment, before a voice rang out behind him.


    "You really thought I wouldn''t see thating, huh?" the teenager''s voice taunted, dripping with smug satisfaction.


    Volk growled and spun around, his eyes scanning the barrenndscape.


    Shadows crept along the ground, moving slowly and ominously toward him.


    The skeletal shapes emerged from the cracked earth, their movements deliberate, each bony limb rattling with an eerie sound.


    The teenager''s voice echoed from different directions, as if toying with him.


    "I get it, you Orcs are all the same. You tried to throw the kid earlier to make me drop my guard, make me think you''re all brute force and no brains. But no... I know what you''re doing."


    The skeleton warriors continued to rise, their hollow eyes glowing with an unnatural light as they surrounded Volk. "You''re trying to bait me again, using the same tricks."


    Volk said nothing, just casually spun his axe in his hands, rolling it between his palms with a grim smile.


    He wasn''t interested in banter; he just wanted to cut this annoying brat down.


    The sound of the teenager''s voice irritated him, and he clenched his jaw as he shifted his stance, ready for the next attack.


    The boy was hiding among the skeletons, but Volk wasn''t fooled.


    He had no interest in ying this game.


    As soon as the brat spoke again, Volk bolted in the direction of the voice, his speed astonishing for someone of his size.


    He crashed through the skeletal warriors, his axe swinging with deadly precision.


    SLAM!


    His axe connected with another skeleton, shattering it into pieces. But as soon as he did, another voice rang out from a different direction. "Oops, wrong again, Orc! You''re too slow."


    Volk''s frustration boiled over, but he didn''t let it show.


    He adjusted his grip on the axe, his movements more controlled now.


    The next time the boy spoke, Volk barely waited a second before he charged again, his powerful legs propelling him forward with lightning speed.


    This time, he aimed straight for the source of the voice.


    KABAM!


    The axe struck true, and this time, it was a skeleton again.


    "Haha!" The teenager said among the injured skeleton soldiers and then mumbled, "You won''t catch me!"


    Yet, because of his voice, Volk would know where he is and instantly reappear behind him and then, immediately, blood sttered and sprayed across the cracked earth.


    Kaschack!


    The teenager coughed up blood, his once-smug grin faltering as he gasped for breath.


    Volk grinned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he pulled the axe out and prepared to strike again.


    But before the axe could hit, the teenager''s body crumbled, turning into yet another skeleton.


    Volk cursed under his breath, with his eyes narrowing sharply.


    This was getting tiresome.


    "You injured me, I''ll give you that," the teenager''s voice echoed again, now from a distance. "But don''t worry, I can heal. It''s just a scratch."


    Volk snarled, wiping the blood from his axe as he surveyed the battlefield. He was done with this game.


    He could feel the teenager''s presence, and it was starting to irritate him that the boy was toying with him like this.


    He began moving methodically, crushing skeleton after skeleton, each swing of his axe followed by the cracking of bones.


    Suddenly, one of the skeletal soldiers knelt down before Volk, its hollow eyes glowing dimly as if it had something to say.


    Although Volk''s patience was wearing thin. He rested his axe on his shoulder, ring down at the skeleton, and only now he would speak.


    "What is it now, kid? What stupid trick do you have up your sleeve this time?"


    Volk paced back and forth before the kneeling skeleton soldiers, his boots crunching over the bones scattered across the barrenndscape.


    His eyes gleamed with amusement as he toyed with his massive axe, and its de gleaming ominously.


    He stopped, resting the axe on his shoulder as he addressed the soldiers.


    "This here," Volk said, holding up the weapon for them to see, "is the Axe of Dissection." His voice was low and menacing, filled with pride.


    "It''s no ordinary weapon. Any wound it creates, no matter how small, turns into a river of blood. Every cut, every strike, drains the life out of its victim faster than they can heal. It''s not just a tool of war¡ªit''s a weapon of fear."


    He eyed the kneeling skeleton soldier, the one who had been coughing up blood onto the cracked earth. Discover hidden tales at §Þ??


    The pool of crimson beneath the figure was steadily growing, soaking into the dry ground.


    "I could walk away right now," Volk continued, "and you''d still die. Slowly, painfully. You''re already bleeding out, after all."


    He paused, watching as the kneeling soldier struggled to catch its breath, blood still dripping from its bony frame.


    Volk relished in the sight for a moment, enjoying the power he wielded over this strange opponent.


    The skeleton soldier''s struggles were pathetic inparison to the might of the Axe of Dissection.


    "But," Volk said, his voice shifting into something colder, more impatient, "I don''t have time for that."


    Without warning, he moved.


    Kabam!


    Volk swung his axe with terrifying speed, the air crackling as the weapon cut through it.


    In an instant, he teleported behind the kneeling skeleton soldier, aiming to cleave the pitiful figure in half.


    He grinned as the axe came down, expecting to see it strike the brittle bones, splintering them apart.


    But then, something happened.


    "Death Arise!" the teenager''s voice in the kneeling skeleton soldier whispered, its voice barely audible, but filled with an unearthly power.


    Volk''s axe, mid-swing, came to a sudden halt, as if hitting an invisible wall.


    He blinked in surprise, his grip tightening on the hilt.


    What was this?


    How could a simple skeleton soldier stop his attack?


    Before Volk could react, a dark shadow began to form around the kneeling figure.


    The bones cracked and shifted, melding together with the surrounding air until something entirely different emerged¡ªa warrior d in ckened armor, its form fully encased from head to toe.


    Unlike the skeletons, whose armor was crude and iplete, this new figure radiated an aura of supremacy.


    The armored warrior stood tall, its helmeted head turning to meet Volk''s gaze.


    The eerie glow of its eyes, hidden behind the visor, sent a chill down Volk''s spine.


    This was no ordinary soldier.


    With a swift, precise motion, the armored warrior raised its sword and parried Volk''s axe, deflecting the deadly blow as if it were nothing.


    The force of the parry sent Volk''s weapon off course, and the Axe of Dissection mmed into the ground with a thunderous crash, embedding itself in the cracked earth.


    Volk staggered back, eyes wide with shock.


    ''Plot armor?''

 Chapter 137: Song Wooji

    Song Woo-Ji staggered, his breaths shallow andbored.


    His lungs burned, each gasp scraping through his throat like sandpaper.


    Blood dripped steadily from the gaping wounds along his back, pooling around his boots, staining the rocky floor of his Draconic Graveyard domain.


    He could feel the warm, sticky flow intensifying with every second.


    The pain was relentless, wrapping around him like iron chains.


    His legs trembled, but he forced himself to stand, the weight of exhaustion pressing down like a heavy cloak.


    He hadn''t expected this¡ªbeing pushed to the brink so quickly, so mercilessly.


    Experience exclusive tales on §Þ??


    Before him, the Orc horde leader, was a whirlwind of violence.


    Each swing of the massive war axe in his hand was followed by a sickening crunch.


    Thwack!


    The sound of metal slicing through bone echoed through the battlefield as one of Song Woo-Ji''s undead pawns was cleaved in half.


    A mere secondter, another was kicked aside, its rotting body crashing into the jagged rocks with a wet thud.


    They were supposed to be strong, these undead warriors.


    Powerful.


    Song Woo-Ji''s fingers clenched into fists, blood mixing with dirt and sweat.


    He had fought hard to capture them, to turn them into his subordinates.


    He could still remember the dungeons where he had defeated them¡ªeach battle a grueling struggle that had pushed him to his limits.


    The first was the Mountain Giant, Gorr. Song Woo-Ji had barely survived the encounter.


    Gorr''sir had been deep within the Fire Fang Mountains, its craggy peaks spewing smoke and ash.


    Gorr had been a colossus of stone and muscle, his fistsrge enough to crush boulders.


    Every blow from the giant had felt like a mountain copsing on Song Woo-Ji. He had dodged, ducked, rolled¡ªbarely able tond a single hit.


    His sword had shattered against Gorr''s skin, and for a moment, it had seemed like defeat was inevitable. But then, Song Woo-Ji had found a way¡ªstriking a weak spot hidden beneath the giant''s left arm.


    It had taken everything he had to bring the behemoth down, and even more to bind him to his will.


    Then there was Daelum, the Death Knight. A fearsome warrior, d in spectral armor, his sword a ckened shard of pure malice.


    Song Woo-Ji had stumbled upon him in the ancient ruins of Zorn.


    The air there had been thick with decay, the stones underfoot whispering of forgotten wars and ancient curses.


    Daelum had been relentless, his de carving through the darkness, seeking to end Song Woo-Ji''s life with every swing.


    The battle had been a dance of death, each of them trading blow for blow, parry for parry.


    When Song Woo-Ji had finally felled him, binding his soul to his necromantic powers, it had felt like conquering death itself.


    Andstly, there was Sorva, the Fallen Mage.


    Sorva had been a master of arcane arts, herir a twistingbyrinth of illusion and magic deep beneath the Scarlet Crags.


    Song Woo-Ji had spent days wandering through her domain, fending off her traps and ambushes, his mind stretched to its limits by the constant barrage of sorcery.


    Sorva had appeared before him in the form of a wraith, her body flickering between reality and the void.


    Their battle had been one of endurance, Song Woo-Ji using every ounce of his will to break through her magical defenses.


    When he finally brought her down, her essence had be another weapon in his arsenal.


    And yet, now¡ªnow, all of them were being ughtered by the Orc horde leader he had trapped in his domain.


    The Orc horde leader was cutting through them like they were nothing more than fodder, their once formidable strength utterly useless against his brute power.


    Smash!


    Another undead pawn crumbled under Orc horde leader''s attack, its skull caving in like a fragile eggshell.


    Song Woo-Ji stared at the carnage, disbelief tightening around his throat.


    How?


    How could this be happening?


    These undead had faced the most grueling battles, ovee impossible odds, yet here they were, helpless before this monstrous orc.


    The realization gnawed at his head like a pin needle, it tasted bitter and unforgiving.


    The Orc horde leader was a tower of muscle and rage, and he could feel like his every movement were calcted, every strike was devastating and destructive.


    His crimson eyes glowed with an unquenchable thirst for blood.


    Song Woo-Ji''s chest tightened as the Orc horde Leader''s gaze fell on him, the orc''s mouth curling into a feral grin.


    The undead may have been a nuisance, but Song Woo-Ji?


    He was Volk''s true prey.


    Volk roared, the sound reverberating across the battlefield like a thunderp from the raging sky.


    "IS THIS ALL YOU HAVE, LITTLE HUMAN?!" His voice boomed, shaking the very ground. "YOUR PAWNS ARE NOTHING!"


    Song Woo-Ji''s heart pounded in his chest. His hands, slick with blood, clenched tighter around the hilt of his sword.


    The air crackled with tension as Volk charged, his enormous frame barreling through the field like a runaway beast.


    Song Woo-Ji''s mind raced, trying to calcte his next move, but the pain, the exhaustion¡ªit was all too much.


    Suddenly, Volk disappeared¡ªswoosh!¡ªvanishing from sight. For a split second, everything went silent.


    Song Woo-Ji''s eyes widened.


    Where had he gone?


    Then, just as quickly, Volk reappeared behind him.


    Whoosh!


    The air shifted, the scent of blood thick in the atmosphere.


    "SURRENDER YOUR LIFE, LITTLE HUMAN!" V


    olk''s voice was like a crashing wave, his presence overwhelming.


    Song Woo-Ji could feel the ground tremble beneath his feet.


    But before Volk couldnd a killing blow, something shifted in the air.


    A dark, oppressive energy seeped from Song Woo-Ji''s body, spreading outward like a thick mist.


    The temperature dropped, the smell of death flooding the area.


    Time seemed to slow, the world turning grey as the energy wrapped itself around Song Woo-Ji, forming a swirling vortex of bones and shadows.


    Crack!


    The bones twisted and merged, forming armor that clung to Song Woo-Ji''s body like a second skin.


    His right hand clenched, and a spear materialized¡ªcrafted from countless bones, spinning like a drill, its edges sharp enough to tear through steel.


    The transformation wasplete in an instant.


    Song Woo-Ji''s eyes gleamed from within the bone helmet, the glow of deathly power pulsating through him. His voice, cold and detached, echoed across the battlefield.


    "Executor Mode: Drill Breaker."


    Volk paused, eyes narrowing as he stared at the human before him. Something was wrong.


    This piercing power¡ªit was unlike anything he had ever faced.


    He took a step back hoping to evade the attack, but it was already toote.


    Vvvvrrrr!


    The spear spun faster, the sound of the drill piercing the air like a shriek.


    Without warning, Song Woo-Ji lunged, the bone spear driving forward with terrifying speed.


    Volk swung his axe, trying to block the attack, but the spear shattered through it¡ªcrack!¡ªsending shards of metal flying.


    Song Woo-Ji didn''t stop.


    His movements were fluid, precise, and unrelenting.


    Thud! Thud! Thud!


    The spear drilled into Volk''s massive body, each impact punctuated by the sickening sound of flesh being torn apart.


    Blood sprayed from Volk''s wounds, the bone drill carving through his flesh with ease.


    Each strike drilled deeper, faster, ripping through muscle, bone, and sinew.


    Volk roared in agony, his body convulsing as he tried to fight back, but the assault was relentless.


    From every angle, the spear struck, drilling holes into Volk''s arms, legs, chest¡ªeverywhere.


    His body was riddled with gaping wounds, each onerge enough to see straight through to the other side.


    Blood poured from him like a river, his once mighty form reduced to a mass of torn flesh and broken bones.


    Splurt!


    A final thrust of the spear drilled through Volk''s chest, and the Orc horde leader fell to his knees, and his strength was gone in that moment.


    He looked down at the countless holes in his body, disbelief and pain etched across his face.


    Song Woo-Ji stood over him, the spear in his hand still spinning, its tip drenched in blood.


    He didn''t say a word.


    He didn''t need to.


    The battle was over.


    Volk''s body slumped forward, crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.


    The sound echoed across the enclosed battlefield, like a grim reminder of the brutal fight that had just taken ce.


    Song Woo-Ji looked down at his fallen opponent, his breathing ragged, but his resolve unshaken.


    The bone armor around him slowly dissipated, crumbling into dust,


    leaving him standing alone amidst the carnage.


    The orc horde Leader was no more.

 Chapter 138: Another system user

    Song Woo-Ji stood amidst the battlefield, thest remnants of his Draconic Graveyard domain still flickering in the air.


    The bone spear in his hand slowly crumbled, falling into dust as his body returned to its normal state.


    He exhaled, a long, weary sigh escaping his lips.


    "H-a-a-a-a-a-a¡­"


    The battle had drained him¡ªmore than he was willing to admit.


    His eyes flicked to the fallen body of orc, now lying motionless on the blood-soaked ground.


    The Orc leader was a formidable opponent, far stronger than any he had faced before. But it wasn''t just the battle that weighed heavily on him¡ªit was the transformation.


    The Death Knight form.


    Song Woo-Ji raised a trembling hand, touching his chest where the bone armor had once clung.


    He could still feel the residual energy, dark and corrosive, gnawing at the edges of his soul. It was power, yes. But it came at a price.


    He took a deep breath, steeling himself before calling out, "System. Report."


    The air around him shimmered, and a soft, metallic voice filled his mind.


    [[ Yes, Master Song Woo-Ji.


    [[ Executor Mode: Drill Breaker has been sessfully executed. However, your current soul integrity has beenpromised by 20%.


    [[ Continued use of the Death Knight form in this state may result in irreversible damage. ]]


    Song Woo-Ji grimaced.


    He knew it had been dangerous.


    The power of the Death Knight was immense, but every time he used it, he felt a piece of himself slipping away. It was like inviting a part of death itself to live within him.


    "Fortunately, I managed to use it onest time..." His voice trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "But I can''t keep relying on it. Not like this. If I use that form too often, it''ll corrupt my soul."


    The system hummed in agreement.


    [[ Affirmative.


    [[ Sustained use will elerate soul degradation. It is advised to minimize usage, Master. ]]


    Song Woo-Ji''s jaw tightened.


    He had no choice today¡ªThe Orc horde Leader would have killed him without the Death Knight form. But it left him vulnerable now, with barely enough energy to maintain his grip on his necromantic powers.


    "What''s happening outside?" he asked, turning his gaze toward the edges of the domain where reality began to distort and fray. "How long until the Draconic Domain copses?"


    The system responded promptly.


    [[ The Draconic Domain will dissipate in approximately a few minutes.


    [[ External factors indicate ongoing conflict between human forces and the remaining Orc horde.


    [[ Orc reinforcements have been dyed due to the incapacitation of their leader. ]]


    Suddenly, from behind Song Woo-Ji, a small skeleton emerged.


    It hopped onto his shoulder, a bony creature no bigger than a child''s hand.


    Its hollow eyes gleamed with mischief as it tilted its head and spoke in a raspy voice.


    "No, Master, the situation outside is still terrible. The humans and the Orc horde are locked in a fierce battle. But luckily for you, taking the Orc leader hostage has kept things from getting worse."


    The little skeleton chuckled. "They''re panicking without their leader. But don''t worry. Reinforcements should arrive soon. By the time they get here, you can slip out and get some rest."


    Song Woo-Ji frowned, rubbing his temples. "Tch. And here I was hoping to avoid any more of this mess." His exhaustion weighed heavily, and the mention of reinforcements meant he had little time left.


    Just as Song Woo-Ji was about to speak, a faint twitch caught his eye. His gaze shot to Volk''s corpse lying at his feet.


    The massive orc''s body shuddered, muscles rippling beneath the torn flesh.


    A faint movement¡ªthe slightest flicker of life.


    Song Woo-Ji''s heart skipped a beat.


    Volk''s eyelids fluttered, just for a moment, but then they snapped shut again, as if he had decided to y dead.


    The Orc leader was far from finished.


    The little skeleton on his shoulder leaned forward, peering at Volk. "Hey, master," it said with a low hiss, "want me to reanimate this one? He''s strong. Could be useful as another undead pawn."


    Song Woo-Ji shook his head, feeling thest dredge of his energy slipping away. "No. I don''t have enough much mana left. Not after using the Death Knight form."


    The skeleton let out a disappointed sigh. "Shame. This Orc''s got some real power. Stronger than the others we''ve faced."


    Song Woo-Ji''s brow furrowed. "Other Orcs¡­" He cast his mind back to the dungeons he had raided before this one. There had been many. One Orc after another, each stronger than thest, each a deadly threat in their own right.


    There was Krul, the Bone Crusher, from the Frostbone Peaks.


    Song Woo-Ji had battled him in a frozen wastnd, every step a struggle against both the Orc and the biting cold.


    Krul had wielded a massive hammer, each swing capable of shattering the frozen ground beneath their feet.


    It had taken every ounce of Song Woo-Ji''s cunning to bring him down, using the ice itself to trap and break the monster.


    Then there was Durk, the me Warden, from the Ember Crag.


    That dungeon had been a furnace of heat and fire, withva flowing like rivers through the narrow paths.


    Durk hadmanded the mes themselves, wielding them like weapons. Song Woo-Ji had barely escaped with his life, using his undead to shield him from the burning onught.


    And who could forget Magra, the Shadow Skulker?


    She had been a cunning adversary, lurking in the dark recesses of the ck Hollow.


    Magra had moved like a phantom, slipping between the shadows, striking when least expected.


    Song Woo-Ji had nearly been overwhelmed in thatbyrinthine dungeon, but his necromancy had saved him, turning the very shadows she controlled against her.


    The fourth, Thrag, the Irond, was the toughest of them all.


    Deep within the Ironstone Depths, Thrag had stood like a living fortress, his body covered in thick, imprable armor.


    No weapon had been able to pierce his defenses.


    It was only through careful strategy¡ªusing his own environment against him¡ªthat Song Woo-Ji had managed to exploit a weakness, bringing the massive Orc crashing down.


    As Song Woo-Ji recalled each of these battles, his eyes fell once more on Volk.


    "This one''s different," he muttered.


    "Stronger than the others. Maybe because he''s a C-ss Orc horde leader. The meanest, the strongest of them all."


    He nced at the little skeleton.


    "We''ll have to expect stronger monsters like this in the future. The gates are only going to get worse."


    The little skeleton tapped its bony fingers together thoughtfully. "Maybe. But for now, you''re alive. That counts for something, right?"


    Song Woo-Ji grunted, his body heavy with fatigue. "For now."


    He could feel the strain pulling at him, the edge of exhaustion too sharp to ignore.


    The battles were getting tougher.


    The gates were opening more frequently. And the enemiesing through them¡­ well, if Volk was any indication, they were only going to get worse.


    After a few moments of silence, Song Woo-Ji exhaled deeply. "System, turn off."


    The air grew still for a moment, but before Song Woo-Ji could rx, something stirred beneath him.


    His instincts red, eyes darting to the ground where Volky. But was missing.


    Thud.


    Suddenly, a massive green hand shot up from the corpse was supposed to be, gripping Song Woo-Ji''s ankle with terrifying force.


    His eyes widened in shock as the ground seemed to quake beneath him.


    The grip tightened, the rough, calloused skin of the Orc''s hand digging into his flesh like iron shackles.


    The little skeleton let out a high-pitched yelp, scrambling to stay perched on Song Woo-Ji''s shoulder. "Master, look out!"


    But before Song Woo-Ji could react, his vision blurred as the massive hand yanked him downward.

 Chapter 139: Crushed

    Sung Woo-Ji barely had time to register what was happening before Volk''s twisted form emerged from the ground, his facial features distorted in unnatural ways.


    The Orc leader''s eyes gleamed with a sinister light, and his lips twisted into a grotesque smile. "Interesting... a system," Volk muttered, his voice dripping with malice.


    Before Sung Woo-Ji could even react, the grip around his ankle tightened, the massive green hand holding him in ce. But then it grew.


    The hand expanded, grotesquely swelling in size until it was no longer just gripping his leg.


    Half of Sung Woo-Ji''s body was now encased in the Orc''s oversized hand, the pressure mounting with each passing second.


    Volk''s grin widened. His voice thundered with malevolent glee. "I''LL CRUSH YOU!"


    Sung Woo-Ji gasped, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on him as Volk''s hand tightened, the air squeezed from his lungs.


    It was as though the very life was being wrung from his body.


    His bones creaked under the strain, and a sharp pain shot through his ribs. But before the hand could crush him entirely, something shifted.


    CRACK!


    Bone ribs¡ªsharp, jagged, and eerily familiar¡ªsuddenly encased Sung Woo-Ji, springing from his own body like a second skin.


    They wrapped around him in a protective cocoon, halting Volk''s crushing grip for a moment.


    The Orc leader paused, his eyes narrowing at the unexpected resistance. Then, his twisted grin returned.


    "BONY MAIN CHARACTER, I''LL CRUSH!" Volk roared, his voice shaking the earth beneath them.


    With a deafening crack, Volk''s fingers tightened once more, his immense strength overwhelming the protective bones.


    The ribs began to crumble, shattering piece by piece under the immense pressure. Sung Woo-Ji could feel them breaking, the defensiveyer splintering like brittle wood. And then, with a final crunch, the bone barrier disintegrated entirely, leaving him exposed.


    Volk''s hand gripped tighter.


    The pain was unbearable now, searing through Sung Woo-Ji''s body like fire.


    His chest heaved, trying desperately to pull in air, but the crushing force made it impossible.


    His vision blurred at the edges, the world around him seemed to darken.


    The sensation of hopelessness gnawed at his mind.


    It was happening too fast¡ªeverything was happening too fast.


    His thoughts raced, yet they couldn''t catch up with the terror unfolding around him.


    He felt the fear crawling up his spine, spreading like ice through his veins.


    Was this terror?


    He had faced death before, but this... this was different.


    This was overwhelming, a force too great to resist.


    Should he give up now?


    Was there any point in fighting anymore?


    For a brief moment, his mind wandered back to who he once was.


    He remembered the days when he was nothing more than an E-rank hunter, the weakest of them all.


    Back then, he wasn''t even considered a hunter by most standards. He was just a boy trying to survive, trying to provide for his sick mother.


    Those days were filled with endless struggle¡ªdays spent scavenging, barely scraping by in the underbelly of the hunting world.


    He had been so weak. So helpless.


    He had signed up for low-level dungeons, not because he believed he could contribute, but because he needed the money to pay for his mother''s medicine.


    Every time he faced a monster, his hands would tremble.


    His heart would pound so loudly in his chest that it drowned out every other sound.


    He wasn''t like the other hunters¡ªthose confident warriors who seemed born to fight. He was just a scared kid, fumbling with a rusty sword.


    And then, there was that day. The day he almost died.


    It was supposed to be a low-risk dungeon, but instead, he found himself in the heart of a dragon''s tomb.


    The air had been thick with ancient magic, and he had stumbled upon something he shouldn''t have¡ªa trap left by the dragon that nearly killed him. But instead of death, something else happened.


    Something impossible.


    He had survived, barely, and when he awoke, the System was there.


    It spoke to him, offering him power, offering him a way to escape his fate.


    From that moment, everything changed.


    Hepleted quests, defeated monsters, and grew stronger.


    He learned how to use the System, mastering the art of necromancy, turning his fallen enemies into undead servants. His rise was swift, but not without hardship.


    The struggle never ended.


    He fought through dungeons, through endless waves of monsters, each one more powerful than thest.


    He remembered the raid on Jedunzo Ind¡ªa turning point in his life.


    There, he had faced an entire horde of creatures, leading a team of hunters and showcasing his newfound abilities.


    Hismand over death had made him a force to be reckoned with.


    That raid had earned him respect.


    It had lifted him from the bottom of the ranks, propelling him to the status of an elite C-ranker.


    He had wed his way up, fighting tooth and nail for every bit of power he now possessed. But now, as the Orc horde Leader''s hand squeezed tighter, he wondered:


    Was it all for nothing?


    Is this terror?


    Is this the end?


    Should he give up now?


    The crushing pressure intensified, and Sung Woo-Ji''s thoughts became hazy.


    He could barely think.


    The pain was too much. But deep inside, something stirred.


    A flicker of anger.


    Of defiance.


    "No..." Sung Woo-Ji''s voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in his mind, louder than the roar of Volk''s rage. "No, I won''t give up now."


    Yes, why would he give up!


    He understood now.


    Even with a system in his hands, he must do everything to win.


    Son Woo-Ji epted to himself that he became arrogant!


    He is not the strongest of them all yet, so why should be arrogant!


    "Noooo!" He said with anger.


    The words repeated in his head, growing stronger, more forceful.


    He hade too far, fought too hard, survived too many impossible battles to die here.


    He wasn''t the weak E-rank hunter anymore.


    He wasn''t the scared boy who cowered in the face of danger.


    He was Sung Woo-Ji, a necromancer, a warrior who had faced death ande back stronger every time.


    He clenched his fists, his body trembling with both pain and newfound determination. But as the anger and resolve surged within him, Volk''s grip only tightened further, squeezing him with inhuman strength.


    The pain was unbearable, his bones creaking under the pressure, threatening to snap.


    Yet, he swore.


    Song Woo-Ji swore in his head that he will make this Orc horde Leader one his undead army!


    YEEES!!


    However, as he thought of this.


    Crack!


    Sung Woo-Ji gasped, feeling his ribs shift unnaturally.


    The air was squeezed from his lungs, and his vision began to blur again. His resolve faltered for just a moment as the reality of the situation set in.


    He was powerless.


    He had no more tricks, no more magic.


    His mana reserves were depleted.


    The Death Knight form had already drained him of everything.


    And now, Volk was crushing him.


    It was over.


    The grip tightened onest time, and Sung Woo-Ji''s body buckled under the pressure. His mind went nk.


    No thoughts, no emotions¡ªjust the cold, crushing sensation of death wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud.


    In the final moment, everything faded to ck.


    Kabam!

 Chapter 140 : Vessel of Death Monarch

    Volk''s massive, twisted form stood over the battlefield, his mutated features contorted into a mask of grim satisfaction.


    The air around him crackled with radioactive energy, the very ground beneath his feet scorched and withered.


    His glowing eyes surveyed the scene, lingering on the crumbled remnants of the Ranker World''s finest hunters.


    Broken bodiesy strewn across the field, and a thick miasma of death clung to the bones and dust that filled the Draconic Graveyard domain.


    He could still feel the weight of Sung Woo-Ji''s crushed form in his hand.


    The limp body of the once-feared Ranker dangled from his oversized fist, unmoving, broken, lifeless.


    Volk''s mind didn''t linger on the significance of his kill.


    To him, it didn''t matter that this human was one of the pirs of the Ranker World.


    What mattered was that he hadpleted his mission.


    He wasn''t interested in the intricacies of systems or the power they offered.


    The only thing that drove him was the mission.


    He looked down at Sung Woo-Ji''s crumpled body, still gripped in his massive palm, and his lips twisted into a frown.


    For a moment, something flickered in his mind¡ªa brief curiosity about the system Sung Woo-Ji possessed. But Volk shrugged it off.


    The intricacies of a system didn''t concern him.


    His mission was simple: kill the ranked hunters.


    Nothing more, nothing less.


    Then came the familiar chime in his ear.


    || Ding!


    A notification shed before Volk''s eyes:


    | Mission: Murder all the Ranked Pirs within an hour.


    | Ranked Pirs: 25/25.


    | Reward: Travel to Orzaroth.


    | Failure: The host will no longer be able to use Nuclear Devastation attacks in Grum-Gar form.


    | Mission Status: Completed. |


    Volk''s lips stretched into a cruel smile.


    His task was finished.


    The reward, long promised, was finally his.


    The thought of the magical world of Orzaroth filled his mind with anticipation.


    He''s now ready to go, a realm where Solluha''r was in, and now it was his to im.


    "VOOOLK FEEEEELS GOOD!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the air, shaking the bones scattered across the ground.


    His enormous, ogre-like form pulsed with radioactive energy, casting a sickly green glow over the entire battlefield.


    But as Volk reveled in his victory, another chime rang out, and a new notification appeared in front of his eyes.


    || Ding!


    | New Mission Issued.


    | Mission: Murder the vessel of the Death Monarch with a time frame.


    | Time frame: 20 minutes.


    | Reward: Travel to Orzaroth with the Horde.


    | Failure: The host will travel alone, and the Horde will perish. |


    Volk''s brow furrowed as he read the new mission. His initial triumph faded as a wave of frustration washed over him.


    "Another mission? Twenty minutes" he grumbled, his voice low and guttural.


    He looked around, his eyes scanning the battlefield with renewed suspicion.


    The vessel of the Death Monarch?


    His gaze shifted to the bones and dead air that permeated the domain, an unsettling aura of death still clinging to the space around him.


    Something was wrong.


    The ranker in his hand, the so-called Death Monarch, should have been dead, and yet the system implied he wasn''t.


    The gnawing feeling in Volk''s gut grew, and he slowly turned his gaze back to his own hand.


    There, in his massive palm, the human''s body still hung limp, but Volk''s instincts kicked in.


    He growled, his eyes narrowing.


    Without hesitation, Volk mmed Sung Woo-Ji''s body into the ground with all the force he could muster.


    WHAM!


    The impact sent a cloud of dust and shattered bone fragments into the air, the ground beneath them trembling.


    Volk''s massive fist followed, pounding into the earth over and over again, each strike shaking the battlefield with violent, earth-shattering blows.


    BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!


    "GRAAAAAAAHHH!"


    Volk''s roar echoed across the field as he brought his fists down, again and again, each punch more brutal than thest.


    He was determined to crush everyst shred of life from the human.


    His rage exploded with every strike, his massive form looming over the battered remains of Sung Woo-Ji.


    He pulled his fist back for another punch and paused, his breath heavy and ragged.


    The ground was a crater beneath him, and Sung Woo-Ji''s body was little more than a bloodied mess. But Volk''s brow furrowed once again.


    Something still felt off.


    The eerie silence that followed each blow gnawed at him, an unsettling feeling he couldn''t shake.


    He leaned down, his massive radioactive form casting a grotesque shadow over the battered corpse, his eyes narrowing as he studied it closely.


    Was it truly dead?


    Was this the end of the so-called Death Monarch?


    He needed to be sure.


    The system''s mission weighed heavily on his mind¡ªfailure would cost him his entire horde, and he couldn''t afford that, or could he?


    His pride couldn''t.


    Volk grunted and raised his fist once more.


    THUD! THUD! THUD!


    The punches rained down, relentless, savage.


    Dust and debris exploded around him as the ground caved under the force of his blows.


    Each strike sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. But no matter how many times he struck, the feeling remained.


    The sense that something wasn''t right.


    Panting, Volk finally stopped.


    He stood up to his full height, his massive chest heaving with exertion.


    His glowing eyes fixed on the crumpled, lifeless form of Sung Woo-Ji.


    The human had been reduced to a broken, bloodied mess, barely recognizable as a body anymore.


    Volk snorted, wiping a thick, green droplet of saliva from the corner of his mouth.


    He knelt down once more, leaning in close to the remains, sniffing the air around them.


    His massive nostrils red, searching for any sign of life. He had to be sure.


    Nothing. No heartbeat. No breath. Just death.


    Finally, Volk straightened, a satisfied grin creeping across his face.


    The Death Monarch, the vessel of whatever strange power this human possessed, was no more.


    He could feel it.


    There was nothing left.


    He''d crushed him, obliterated him, left no room for even a flicker of life to remain.


    Volk threw his head back and let out a deep, rumblingugh. "HEH!" he snorted, the sound echoing through the ruined domain. "NO MORE BONES. NO MORE SYSTEM!"


    He stepped back, the twisted grin still on his face, his gigantic radioactive form casting an ominous shadow over the battlefield.


    He had done it.


    He hadpleted his mission, and the next step was clear.


    Orzaroth awaited him, and with his horde at his side, there was nothing in this world¡ªor the next¡ªthat could stand in his way.


    For now, the Death Monarch was dead. And Volk, in all his radioactive, monstrous glory, had imed his victory.


    "HEH!" he snorted once more, turning his back on the crumpled remains.

 Chapter 141 : Bone Dragon vs Volk

    Volk''s eyes flicked upward, squinting as the sky above him shimmered with a strange, otherworldly light.


    Three suns hung in the heavens, their rays casting an eerie glow across thendscape.


    The realization hit his head like a tidal wave: he was still inside the Draconic Graveyard, the dimension that Sung Woo-Ji had controlled.


    "HUH?" Volk grunted, his massive radioactive form heaving as his frustration grew.


    He had killed the human¡ªhadn''t he?¡ªbut still, the domain remained intact.


    That meant only one thing: the fight wasn''t over. Something more wasing.


    The hair on the back of his neck bristled, and for the first time, unease slithered into Volk''s mind.


    Suddenly, the bones scattered around the battlefield began to tremble.


    At first, it was barely noticeable, just a faint rattle, like the soft tapping of fingernails against stone. But then the sound grew louder.


    A deep, hollow ck echoed through the air, followed by the ominous scraping of bone against bone.


    Volk turned, his glowing eyes narrowing as he watched in disbelief.


    The bones that had once littered the ground were now moving¡ªdragging themselves together with an unnatural, jerking motion.


    Skeletal fragments fused, twisting into monstrous shapes, forming a spine that coiled upward into the air.


    The bones gathered in a whirlwind of dust and death, snapping into ce with a chilling precision.


    The ground trembled as the monstrous form took shape, towering over Volk''s massive frame.


    The air grew thick, heavy with a suffocating presence.


    It felt as if the very essence of death was seeping into every corner of the domain.


    Volk could taste it on the back of his tongue, a cold, metallic tang that sent shivers down his spine.


    His heart pounded in his chest as the creature fully formed before him¡ªa dragon of pure bone, its massive wings stretching out like the skeletal remains of a long-dead beast.


    Its hollow eye sockets burned with an eerie, otherworldly light, and its jaw hung open, filled with rows of razor-sharp fangs.


    CRRRREEEEAAAAK.


    The bone dragon''s movements were jagged and unnatural, its spine twisting and cracking as it reared its skull back, preparing to unleash a roar that would shake the heavens.


    The air around Volk grew colder, the temperature dropping as an icy wind howled through the battlefield.


    ROOOOOAAAAAARRR!


    The bone dragon''s roar ripped through the air like a thunderp, shaking the very foundations of the Draconic Graveyard.


    The sound was deafening, a terrifying, primal scream that seemed toe from the depths of the underworld itself.


    Volk staggered back, his massive form trembling under the sheer force of the roar.


    His radioactive aura flickered, dimming momentarily as the creature''s presence filled the space.


    "NOT DEAD?"


    Volk muttered, his deep, guttural voice barely audible over the dragon''s roar.


    The creature before him was no mere remnant of the graveyard¡ªthis was a manifestation of Sung Woo-Ji''s power, a final, desperate retaliation from the Death Monarch himself.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed.


    This was only the beginning.


    The bone dragon lunged forward, its wings ring wide as it swooped down toward Volk with terrifying speed. Volk braced himself, his enormous muscles bulging as he prepared for impact.


    SLAM!


    The bone dragon''s tail whipped through the air like a massive club, crashing into Volk''s side and sending him hurtling across the battlefield.


    He skidded through the dirt, his massive radioactive form leaving a trail of scorched earth in its wake.


    BOOM!


    Volk smashed into a pile of bones, the impact sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air.


    He grunted, pushing himself up with his massive fists, his glowing eyes burning with fury. "YOU... THINK... VOLK CAN BE STOPPED?!"


    With a roar of his own, Volk charged forward, his enormous fists mming into the air as he swung wildly at the bone dragon.


    "SMASSSHHH!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the ground as heunched himself into a series of brutal, relentless attacks. His radioactive aura red brighter, crackling with deadly energy.


    The bone dragon darted to the side, its movements swift and unnatural. Itshed out with its ws, its bone talons scraping against Volk''s skin with a screeching sound.


    "DIVIIIDEEE!"


    Volk roared, mming his fist into the air with a shockwave of force. His massive, green hands swung down toward the bone dragon, but the creature moved with a grace that belied its skeletal form, dodging his attacks with ease.


    Volk''s frustration grew. His fists swung down again and again, each blow more savage than thest.


    "VOOOOOOOLLL!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the battlefield as he attacked, "SMAAAASSSSHH!!"


    But no matter how hard he struck, the bone dragon refused to fall.


    Its bones seemed impervious to his blows, and with every strike Volknded, the dragon retaliated with bone-shaking force.


    WHAM!


    The dragon''s massive wing mmed into Volk''s chest, sending him flying once more.


    He crashed into the ground with a thunderous impact, his radioactive form crackling with energy as he pulled himself to his feet once again.


    "GRAAAAAHHH!"


    Volk roared, his patience wearing thin. His fists clenched, and a dark, twisted smile spread across his face.


    "VOOOOOLLLKK ANGRRRYYY!!!" he bellowed, his voice booming as he unleashed his next attack.


    Tiny, glowing spores burst forth from his hands, filling the air around the bone dragon.


    The spores swirled in the air, carried by an invisible wind, and as they made contact with the dragon''s skeletal form, Volk''s smile widened.


    "PARALYZE!" Volk shouted, swinging his fist toward the dragon. But the spores had no effect. The dragon moved through them with ease, unaffected by the debilitating attack.


    "CRUUUUUSSHHH!!!" Volk tried again, mming his fist into the ground, sending a shockwave of spores into the air. But again, the bone dragon remained unfazed, its hollow eyes burning with a cold, unyielding light.


    "SMAAASSHHHH!"


    Volk''s attacks grew more frantic, his massive fists pounding the ground as he unleashed spore after spore. But no matter how many attacks heunched, the bone dragon seemed immune to them all.


    SLAM!


    The bone dragon''s tail whipped through the air once more, mming into Volk''s chest with bone-crushing force.


    Volk let out a roar of pain as he was sent flying back, crashing into the ground with a deafening thud.


    His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to push himself up.


    The bone dragon loomed over him, its skeletal form towering above his own massive body.


    The air around them was thick with tension, the feeling of death and danger pressing down on Volk from all sides.


    But Volk wasn''t finished.


    With a guttural roar, Volk''s body began to change.


    His muscles bulged even further, his radioactive aura ring brighter as his form grewrger and more monstrous.


    His skin stretched and cracked, his bones creaking as his body expanded.


    "VOOOLK... GROWS... STRONGER!" he bellowed, his voice filled with rage and power. His form doubled in size, his radioactive energy crackling like lightning around him as he prepared for the final showdown.


    The bone dragon let out a low, menacing growl, its hollow eyes fixed on Volk as it prepared to strike once more.

 Chapter 142: Bone Bone Bones

    Volk''s massive green fists mmed into the bone dragon''s chest with a sickening CRACK, sending shards of bone scattering through the air.


    The impact rattled the battlefield, shaking the very ground beneath his feet.


    For a moment, Volk felt a surge of triumph.


    He hadnded a solid hit, a blow that should have shattered the creaturepletely. But then, the impossible happened.


    The broken bones¡ªscattered in every direction¡ªbegan to move again.


    tter. tter.


    The fragments of the dragon''s shattered ribcage twisted and jerked, dragging themselves back toward the center of the battlefield.


    Volk''s radioactive eyes widened as the bones clicked together, reforming with eerie precision.


    The dragon, whose chest he had just obliterated, was whole once again.


    "WHAT...?" Volk growled, his voice filled with disbelief.


    His fists clenched as he swung again, bringing both hands down on the dragon''s head with all his might.


    BOOM!


    The skull shattered into dust, disintegrating into a cloud of bone fragments that blew across the domain.


    But as soon as the dust settled, the scattered bones began to move once more.


    Each fragment flew back into ce, seamlessly reattaching to the body. Within seconds, the bone dragon was fully reformed, its eye sockets glowing with that cold, dead light.


    Volk let out a roar of frustration. "HOW YOU KEEP COMING BACK?! YOU MAKING VOLK ANGRY!!" His voice was a mixture of rage and confusion.


    This was unlike anything he had ever faced before.


    His fists, which had crushed armies, demolished cities, and left nothing but ruin in their wake, werepletely useless against this creature.


    He snarled, his massive form charging forward once more.


    "VOLK ANGRY... DESTROY!"


    His fists swung wildly, smashing into the dragon''s wings, its legs, its spine¡ªany part of the beast he could reach.


    Each time, the bones crumbled under the force of his blows. Each time, the dragon was reduced to nothing but dust and splinters.


    But each time, it reformed.


    ck. ck. ck.


    The bones pulled themselves together, one piece at a time, with a dreadful inevitability. The sound of them ttering back into ce was maddening, a constant reminder that no matter how much destruction Volk wrought, the creature refused to die.


    "NO! NO MORE!" Volk roared, his frustration mounting as he mmed both of his massive fists down again, pounding the dragon into the ground with a brutal WHAM.


    The earth shook under the force of his blows, cracks spreading through the domain like veins of death.


    The bone dragon crumbled into a pile of shattered fragments, its body utterly destroyed.


    Dust filled the air, a cloud of bone particles swirling around Volk''s hulking form.


    But then, as Volk''s breaths came heavy and ragged, the dust began to shift.


    The fragments of bone moved, clicking together like the pieces of a grotesque puzzle. Volk''s eyes widened as he watched in horror.


    The dragon was reforming again.


    Piece by piece, the bones slid back into ce, a rib here, a spine there.


    The skull, cracked in half moments before, reassembled itself with eerie precision. The dragon stood tall once more, unscathed, as if nothing had happened.


    ROOOOOAAAAARRR!


    The bone dragon''s roar pierced the air, its sound so loud that Volk''s ears rang from the impact.


    It wasn''t just a roar of defiance¡ªit was a call.


    A call to something far more terrifying than what Volk had been prepared for.


    The air shifted. Volk''s breath hitched in his throat as he felt a cold wind blow across the battlefield.


    His eyes darted around, searching for the source of the sudden chill.


    The bones scattered across the domain trembled.


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest as he realized what was happening.


    From the far edges of the Draconic Graveyard, more bones began to rise.


    First, they were just small piles of skeletal remains¡ªmere fragments of long-dead creatures. But they began to move. And then, they began to gather.


    Volk watched in horror as the bones pulled themselves together, forming not one, but two bone dragons.


    Their hollow eye sockets glowed with the same cold, dead light, and their skeletal forms creaked as they stretched their massive wings.


    ck. ck. ck.


    The sound of bones snapping into ce filled the air as more and more dragons rose from the earth.


    Three. Four. Five. Ten. Twenty.


    An endless number of bone dragons emerged from the ground, each one identical to the first, their forms towering over Volk''s radioactive frame.


    The sky darkened as the dragons filled the air, their wings blocking out the light of the three suns that hung in the sky.


    "NO... NO... THIS CAN''T BE!"


    Volk screamed, his voice cracking with panic.


    His fists clenched tightly, his radioactive aura ring with a desperate intensity. But no matter how powerful he was, no matter how many times he crushed the bones beneath his fists, they kepting back.


    More dragons. More bones.


    The battlefield was a sea of white, jagged bone, stretching as far as Volk could see.


    The air was thick with the stench of death, and the cold, suffocating presence of the undead filled every corner of the domain.


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the panic rising in his throat, choking him.


    For the first time in his life, he felt a deep, primal fear.


    A fear that no matter how strong he was, no matter how much destruction he unleashed, he could not win.


    ROOOOOAAAAARRR!


    The bone dragons let out a deafening roar in unison, their hollow eye sockets glowing with that eerie light.


    The ground shook beneath Volk''s feet as they moved toward him, their massive wings sending gusts of icy wind through the battlefield.


    Volk staggered back, his eyes wide with terror.


    How is he gonna deal with this?!


    How is he going to deal with countless enemies?


    He is confident against a giant, but countless of them?


    This was something he could not understand, something he could not destroy. Because even if he did, it would just grow back!


    The dragons closed in around him, their skeletal forms casting long, dark shadows over the battlefield.


    Volk''s radioactive energy red, but it was no use.


    The bone dragons were endless.


    For the first time in his life, Volk, the unstoppable juggernaut, felt truly powerless.


    And as the bone dragons surrounded him, their eyes glowing with the light of death, Volk knew one thing for certain:


    The fight was absolutely going to long.

 Chapter 143: More Violence

    Volk''s massive form twisted and jerked as the bone dragons swarmed around him.


    Each strike hended sent clouds of bone dust into the air, but no matter how hard or fast he attacked, the dragons kept reforming.


    His radioactive fists smashed through rib cages, crushed skulls, and shattered spines, but the fragments would simply pull back together, knitting themselves into new creatures as though his efforts were meaningless.


    "GRAAAAARGH!"


    Volk roared, his voice booming across the battlefield, shaking the very ground beneath him.


    He mmed his fist into a dragon''s skull, reducing it to dust once more. But even as the bones crumbled at his feet, more dragons appeared from the endless sea of skeletons around him.


    It was like fighting a tide¡ªno matter how many he destroyed, they always returned.


    The air around him was thick with death. It clung to him like a cold, damp cloak, chilling his skin despite the radioactive heat that radiated from his body.


    His breath came in ragged gasps, the effort of fighting off the endless horde of undead wearing him down.


    Crack! Smash! BOOM!


    The sounds of bone and flesh colliding echoed through the graveyard as Volk swung his fists wildly, each blow creating a deafening explosion.


    However, the dragons moved faster than he could keep up, darting in and out of his reach, their skeletal forms snapping and ttering with deadly precision.


    "SMASSSH!"


    Volk howled as he swung his fist through the air, aiming for another dragon that had swooped down from above.


    His fist connected with its jaw, sending bone fragments flying in every direction. But the creature barely paused.


    Its body twisted, reforming in midair before mming into him with the force of a speeding boulder.


    Volk staggered back, his feet digging deep trenches into the earth as he struggled to regain his bnce.


    He could feel the weight of the battle pressing down on him, like an invisible hand squeezing his chest.


    "DIVIIIDE!"


    He bellowed,unching another spore strike.


    The spores flew through the air, glowing with a sickly green light as they impacted the bone dragons. But even the paralysis, confusion, and disorienting effects of his spores did nothing.


    The dragons barely reacted.


    It was as though they were immune to his powers, their undead forms untouched by his radioactivity.


    One of the bone dragons lunged at him, its jaws snapping with a CRUNCH as they closed around his arm.


    Volk let out a guttural roar of pain, swinging his massive fist to dislodge the creature.


    He smashed its skull to pieces, sending the bones flying across the battlefield. But once again, the bones began to pull themselves back together, reassembling into a new dragon.


    "NOOO! STAY DEAD!" .


    Volk screamed, his rage reaching a fever pitch. He swung his fists in every direction, smashing the dragons left and right.


    His radioactive energy red, casting an eerie green glow over the battlefield as he unleashed a wave of destruction.


    BOOM!


    He sent another dragon flying with a powerful uppercut, its body disintegrating into dust. But even as he watched, the dust began to swirl, pulling itself back together.


    More bones rose from the ground, forming new dragons faster than Volk could destroy them.


    His vision blurred with frustration and exhaustion.


    Sweat poured down his green skin, mixing with the blood that seeped from the wounds the dragons had managed to inflict.


    His breaths wereing faster now, each one a ragged gasp for air.


    He wasn''t winning. He wasn''t even holding them off.


    ROOOOOAAARR!


    Another bone dragon mmed into his side, its skeletal wings cutting into his flesh like knives.


    Volk screamed in pain, his hand reaching for the creature, but before he could crush it, three more dragons descended upon him.


    They wed and bit at his body, their teeth and talons slicing through his radioactive skin as though it were nothing more than paper.


    "NO...!"


    Volk roared, trying to shake them off. He thrashed wildly, swinging his fists in every direction, but the bone dragons were relentless.


    They were everywhere.


    Surrounding him.


    wing at him.


    Tearing him apart.


    Volk''s knees buckled.


    He fell to the ground, the weight of the dragons pressing him down into the dirt.


    His massive hands trembled as he tried to push himself back up, but his strength was fading fast. His vision blurred again, this time from more than just exhaustion.


    Was this... fear?


    "RAAAAAHHHH!"


    Volk unleashed a final roar, pushing himself up with all the strength he had left.


    He swung his fists one more time,


    smashing through the dragons around him.


    Bones shattered, but the moment they hit the ground, they began to pull themselves back together.


    As he struggled to keep fighting, a sharp ding echoed in his ears. Volk''s blood ran cold.


    A notification appeared in his vision, glowing red:


    Time Remaining: 5 minutes.


    Mission Failure: All Horde Members Will Die.


    Volk''s eyes widened in horror. His fists, already trembling from exhaustion, clenched tighter as the reality of the situation sank in.


    He had only five minutes left toplete his mission.


    Five minutes before he lost everything. Before his horde¡ªhis army¡ªwas wiped outpletely.


    "NO!"


    Volk roared, his voice filled with desperation.


    He could feel the panic rising in his chest, suffocating him. He couldn''t fail. He wouldn''t fail.


    He had to finish this.


    He had to kill the vessel of the Death Monarch. But where was it?


    Where was the human that had started this entire nightmare?


    His eyes darted around the battlefield, searching for any sign of his target, the main character, but all he saw were nothing but bones.


    Endless amount of bones.


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest as the glowing numbers in his vision burned brighter.


    Time Remaining: 4 minutes.


    The seconds ticked away like a slow, merciless hammer.


    The pressure felt unbearable.


    He mmed another bone dragon into the ground, but it was no use.


    The bones reformed faster than he could destroy them.


    Sweat dripped from his brow, mixing with the blood that flowed from countless wounds.


    His massive body heaved, chest rising and falling as exhaustion threatened to consume him.


    Each hit seemed weaker than thest.


    CRUNCH!


    Another dragon''s tail mmed into his side, sending Volk skidding across the boneden ground.


    He barely managed to dig his ws into the dirt to stop himself. His radioactive energy red, creating a shimmering, toxic haze around him.


    The dragons snapped at him, unfazed by the radiation that would normally wither anything living.


    "VOLK SMASH! VOLK CRUSH!" he bellowed, voice strained with the effort of continuing the fight.


    He hurled his fist toward the nearest dragon.


    BOOM!


    Its skull shattered, bone fragments scattering across the field. But before he could savor the victory, they pulled together again, swirling into a mass that took shape before his eyes.


    This wasn''t working.


    The bone dragons couldn''t die.


    They kept rising from the grave like they were a part of the very air around him.


    3 minutes remaining.


    Volk felt his breath hitch. His mind was racing now, the urgency tightening its grip on his chest.


    The dragons seemed endless, like an unstoppable wave of death.


    No matter how hard he fought, they just kepting, relentless and indifferent to his strength.


    ROOOAAAR!


    A bone dragon screeched above him, diving in with terrifying speed.


    Volk raised both hands and caught the beast''s jaws just before they snapped shut on his head.


    Its weight crushed down on him, but he held firm, roaring in defiance.


    "NOT ENOUGH! YOU NOT STRONG ENOUGH!"


    With a desperate burst of energy, Volk twisted his body and hurled the dragon aside, its skeletal frame smashing into the ground. But again, the bones began to swirl, pulling themselves together as though nothing had happened.


    The bones shimmered with a pale, otherworldly light, almost mocking him.


    Volk''s breathing wasbored now, his muscles screaming for relief.


    The radioactive glow around him dimmed slightly as his energy reserves began to drain.


    He couldn''t sustain this much longer.


    He needed to finish it.


    WHAM!


    Another dragon blindsided him, sending him crashing into a pile of bones.


    Volk staggered to his feet, disoriented and furious.


    He turned his gaze upward and saw the three suns still hanging ominously in the sky.


    This wasn''t his world.


    He was still trapped inside the domain of that ursed human.


    2 minutes.


    Panic twisted his insides.


    There wasn''t enough time.


    The dragons were multiplying.


    Everywhere he looked, more and more of them were emerging from the ground, forming from the scattered bones of the battlefield.


    Their glowing eyes locked on him, and their screeches filled the air with a deafening cacophony.


    "WHERE YOU?! WHERE HUMAN?!"


    Volk''s voice cracked with desperation as he swung wildly, smashing several dragons into dust. But the endless tide continued.


    Bones rattled and clinked, forming new shapes around him, boxing him in.


    Every strike hended only made the problem worse.


    He had to think.


    He had to find the vessel of the Death Monarch¡ªthe human that controlled all of this madness.


    But where?


    The ground trembled beneath his feet as another bone dragon rose, evenrger than the ones before.


    Its massive frame towered over Volk, casting a long shadow that stretched across the battlefield.


    Its jaws opened wide, and it roared with such force that Volk stumbled back.


    THUD!


    The force of the roar hit Volk like a shockwave.


    He growled in frustration, bracing himself as he readied for another attack.


    1 minute, 50 seconds.


    "VOLK¡­ WILL¡­ NOT FAIL!"


    His roar echoed across the domain, but for the first time, there was a note of doubt in his voice.


    He charged forward, swinging his fists wildly.


    He smashed through one dragon, then another, bones crunching beneath his blows. But they just kepting. More and more.


    The clock was ticking.


    He didn''t have much time.

 Chapter 144: NUCLEAR ECHO BOMB!!!

    Volk, hulking in his radioactive Ogre-like form, snarled in frustration.


    His glowing eyes flickered, and his body trembled with rage.


    The bone dragons circled him like vultures, their rattling jaws cking ominously.


    The ground beneath his feet shook, mirroring the seething fury building inside him.


    He clenched his fists, the radioactive energy crackling around his massive body like a storm.


    "VOLK¡­ SMASH! VOLK¡­ DESTROY!"


    His voice boomed across the battlefield, reverberating through the bone-strewnndscape.


    He swung his fists wildly, smashing one dragon after another, but it was futile.


    The dragons kept rising, bones clicking and ttering, as if mocking him.


    Every blow hended only brought more of them to life. It felt endless, and for the first time, Volk felt something foreign creeping into his chest¡ªdesperation.


    CRUNCH!


    Another dragon mmed into him, sending him flying backward.


    Volk crashed into the ground, his body leaving a deep crater.


    He groaned, pushing himself up with difficulty.


    His muscles screamed, but the anger coursing through him kept him moving.


    His breathing was ragged, his vision blurred. He couldn''t let this happen. Not now. Not when he was so close.


    "VOLK... ANGRY! VOLK¡­ KILL THEM ALL!"


    His bellow shook the air, the radioactive glow around him intensifying. He leaped into the sky, soaring high above the battlefield.


    The ground became a blur below him, and for a moment, he could see the entire domain stretched out beneath him¡ªan endless sea of bones and dragons.


    It felt like the world itself was crumbling under his feet.


    10 seconds remaining.


    Suddenly, a notification blinked into existence in his vision.


    Ding!


    | Would you like to use Nuclear Devastation Strike?


    | Avable Nuclear Strike: Earth Strike, Level 10. |


    Volk''s brow furrowed as he soared through the air, his massive body casting a shadow over the battlefield.


    His heart raced as he read the message.


    Nuclear Devastation Strike?


    His thoughts were jumbled, but another message appeared.


    | The strike depends on the host''s desire.


    | Please decide what the host truly wants before striking. |


    "WHAT? NOT CREATED YET?" Volk growled, "NO SKILL FOR VOLK?" he added with his voice cracking with disbelief. "WHAT VOLK WANT?"


    He didn''t have time for this.


    The dragons were closing in, the bones below shifting like an ocean of death.


    His mind raced, the seconds ticking away as he grappled with the system''s prompt.


    9 seconds.


    Volk''s hands trembled. His anger surged, boiling over into uncontroble rage.


    What kind of system was this? Asking him what he wanted?


    He wanted to kill.


    He wanted to crush.


    He wanted them all to be obliterated!


    His radioactive aura red, burning brighter and hotter with every second.


    "VOLK¡­ SMASH! VOLK DESTROY ALL!"


    He screamed, veins bulging in his neck as he mmed his fists into his own chest. But still, the system waited. The countdown continued.


    8 seconds.


    Volk''s mind spiraled.


    What did he want?


    What did Volk need?


    He couldn''t think straight.


    The dragons were swarming below, their jaws snapping, their eyes glowing with the promise of death. His muscles tensed, his heart pounded.


    He was running out of time.


    "VOLK¡­ NEED¡­ WHAT?"


    His voice cracked, almost pleading.


    His radioactive form shimmered with unstable energy, the pressure mounting inside him like a ticking bomb.


    His rage was consuming him, blinding him to everything except the urge to destroy.


    7 seconds.


    Volk clenched his fists tighter.


    "VOLK¡­ DON''T KNOW!"


    His voice boomed across the sky, but the system didn''t care.


    It demanded an answer.


    What did he want?


    What did he need?


    The question repeated in his mind, over and over, driving him mad with frustration.


    6 seconds.


    "WHAT DOES VOLK NEED?!"


    He screamed again, smashing his fists into the air as if he could punch the question away. But it lingered, gnawing at his mind like a parasite.


    His breathing became erratic, the radioactive energy crackling and sparking around him.


    He was on the verge of losing control.


    5 seconds.


    The countdown kept ticking. Time was slipping through his fingers like sand, and he couldn''t stop it.


    The dragons below roared, their numbers multiplying with each passing moment.


    Volk''s vision blurred with rage, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would explode.


    "VOLK NEED¡­ SOMETHING! VOLK NEED DESTRUCTION!"


    His voice was frantic now, desperation mixing with fury.


    He couldn''t think.


    He couldn''t focus.


    All he could feel was the overwhelming need to annihte everything in his path.


    4 seconds.


    The pressure mounted. His thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind. What did he need? What did he want? The dragons swarmed below, and the three suns in the sky burned down on him like eyes watching his every move. He felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of the decision.


    "VOLK WANT TO SMASH!"


    3 seconds.


    Volk''s body trembled as his radioactive aura red uncontrobly. His fists clenched tighter, his muscles bulging with strain. He was losing it. He had to decide now. The dragons were waiting. The countdown was relentless.


    "VOLK... WANT... TO... KILL!"


    2 seconds.


    Volk''s eyes burned with fury. He threw his head back and roared at the sky, his voice shaking the very air around him. He was out of time.


    His mind raced, every thought consumed by the need for destruction.


    There was no more thinking. No more hesitation.


    "VOLK WANT TO SMASH THEM ALL!!!"


    His scream tore through the battlefield as if the sheer force of his rage could tear the world apart.


    Suddenly, the system dinged again.


    | The host has created Nuclear ECHO Bomb. |


    Volk''s eyes widened in shock.


    His breath caught in his throat as the realization hit him.


    The attack was his.


    His desire for total destruction had manifested into a weapon of untold power.


    The bones around him trembled, and the air grew thick with tension as the bomb began to form, radiating an ominous energy that pulsed with Volk''s fury.


    And in that moment, he knew-he had the power to obliterate everything.


    Volk''s radioactive body trembled with a maddening energy, his massive form glowing brighter than ever before.


    His eyes gleamed with the thrill of impending destruction as the notification appeared in front of him.


    | Nuclear ECHO Bomb:


    | A strike that mirrors the host''s innermost desire to obliterate.


    | Upon contact, the strike causes a cascading chain of nuclear explosions, vaporizing all in its path.


    | The higher the number of the enemy in the area of effect, the stronger the damage dealt. |


    He didn''t need to think.


    He didn''t hesitate for a second.


    The sheer weight of his desire to smash, crush, and obliterate surged through his arms like a blood pumping ultraviolet light.


    His fist, clenched tight, began to glow with an unnatural, pulsating light.


    The energy built rapidly, making the air around him thick and oppressive.


    "VOLK¡­ DESTROY!!"


    With a furious roar, Volk rocketed downward, the sheer force of his movement splitting the sky as if he were a bullet shot from the heavens.


    His hulking body cut through the atmosphere, streaking like aet toward the ground.


    His target¡ªthose cursed Draconic bones.


    As Volk descended, the power in his fist swelled, the glowing light expanding until it enveloped his entire arm.


    It was no longer just his hand¡ªit was an extension of his rage, a weapon of annihtion.


    The bones beneath him seemed to sense the impending doom, rattling and shifting as if trying to escape their fate.


    The world seemed to slow.


    Each second felt like an eternity as Volk fell from the sky, his body plummeting toward the ground like a meteor.


    The air around him rippled with energy, growing hotter and heavier with every passing moment.


    The sky itself seemed to darken, as if it was recoiling from the sheer destructive force being unleashed.


    THRUMMMM!


    The sound began¡ªa low, ominous hum that vibrated through the battlefield, rattling the bones and shaking the very ground.


    It was the precursor of theing disaster.


    Volk''s body blurred with speed, his monstrous form gaining momentum as he closed in on the Draconic bones.


    BOOOOM!


    Impact.


    Volk''s fist smashed into the earth, and for a fraction of a second, there was silence. Time stood still.


    The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the inevitable.


    The light from Volk''s fist surged, swelling and expanding, as the ground below buckled under the force.


    Then, everything exploded.


    BOOOOOOOM!!


    A shockwave of unimaginable force erupted from Volk''s fist, a blinding white light that swallowed the battlefield.


    It was as if the very air had ignited, turning into a zing inferno of nuclear fire.


    The ground split open, massive cracks racing outward like spiderwebs as the sheer pressure of the explosion rippled through the earth.


    The sound was deafening, a violent roar that shattered the bones, crumbled the mountains, and sent shockwaves for miles.


    The st expanded, a rolling mushroom cloud of destruction, tearing through everything in its path.


    The Draconic bones that had once seemed invincible were vaporized, disintegrating into nothing in the face of the overwhelming power.


    KA-BOOOOOM!


    The explosion''s impact was cataclysmic. The ground itself seemed to liquefy under the force, the heat so intense that it melted the surrounding terrain.


    The mushroom cloud surged into the sky, rising higher and higher, a towering column of nuclear fire that blotted out the sun.


    The pressure from the explosion ttened everything in its radius, turning the battlefield into a wastnd of ash and molten earth.


    CRACK! WHOOOOM!


    The shockwave continued to spread, tearing through the air, the ground, the very fabric of the dimension.


    Trees were uprooted, rocks pulverized, and any remnants of the Draconic creatures were obliterated beyond recognition.


    The atmosphere itself seemed to warp, bending and twisting as the nuclear energy rippled outward.


    And at the center of it all was Volk.


    He stood amidst the chaos, his body still glowing with the residual energy of the Nuclear ECHO Bomb.


    His chest heaved with exertion, but a grin spread across his monstrous face. His eyes burned with a wild, primal satisfaction.


    He had done it.


    He had unleashed the full extent of his power.


    "VOLK¡­ SMASHED! VOLK¡­ DESTROYED!!"


    His voice roared through the dissipating chaos, a victorious bellow that echoed across the battlefield.


    He raised his fists to the sky, roaring louder and louder, his voice filled with triumph and raw, unbridled rage.


    He had conquered.


    He had obliterated.


    "VOLK¡­ IS¡­ UNSTOPPABLE!!"


    The battlefieldy in ruins, the Draconic bones that had once swarmed him now reduced to nothing but dust and ash.


    The power of the Nuclear ECHO Bomb had turned the once fearsome bone dragons into mere fragments, their presence erased from existence.


    Volk''s chest swelled with pride, his massive form still radiating the remnants of nuclear energy.


    He continued to roar, his voice shaking the very ground beneath him.


    His victory was absolute. Nothing could stand in his way now.


    "VOOOOOLK FEEEELS GOOOOD!"


    Hisughter boomed across the wastnd, echoing through the devastation he had wrought.


    He had smashed.


    He had destroyed everything.


    He was victorious.


    The bone dragons were no more.


    The Draconic Domain had crumbled before his might.


    As thest of the nuclear energy dissipated, Volk stood tall, his hulking form outlined against the backdrop of the smoldering battlefield.


    His mission had beenpleted.


    The destruction was total. And now, all that remained was the thrill of his conquest.


    "VOLK¡­ IS¡­ THE STRONGEST OF THEM ALL!"


    With one final, earth-shaking roar, Volk basked in the aftermath of his own devastation, the triumphant beast who had brought an end to the Draconic nightmare.

 Chapter 145: Death of Song

    Outside the Death Dragon Domain where Volk was in, the city street turned into a battlefield, bing an inferno of chaos and carnage.


    The sh of metal on metal echoed across the ins, apanied by the thundering roars of the Ogres and the desperate cries of the human rankers.


    The reinforcements had arrived in droves, their numbers impressive, but even their vast numbers were no match for the towering behemoths they now faced.


    These weren''t mere Orcs anymore.


    They had evolved¡ªgrown massive, mutated into Ogres, their hulking forms towering over the battlefield, their muscles bulging with unnatural strength.


    BOOOOOM!


    An Ogre smashed its massive fist into the earth, sending shockwaves that knocked a group of rankers off their feet.


    The ground trembled beneath its weight as it charged forward, its yellow eyes gleaming with rage and bloodlust.


    The rankers scrambled to regroup, their weapons trembling in their hands as they tried to contain the overwhelming force.


    The Ogres'' skin was thick and nearly imprable, their roars deafening, their fists like battering rams.


    "FALL BACK! FALL BACK!" one of the ranker captains shouted, his voice barely audible over the din of battle.


    But there was no retreat.


    The Ogres pressed forward, their footfalls shaking the earth.


    With each step, they crushed the remnants of the human defenses beneath their feet.


    The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke, sweat, blood and panic.


    One Ogre lifted a human ranker by the waist, squeezing the man''s body like a ragdoll.


    The ranker screamed in agony before the Ogre mmed him into the ground with a sickening crunch.


    Blood sprayed across the battlefield as the Ogre let out a thunderous roar.


    "RAAAAAAAAARGH!"


    The Ogres were unstoppable, a force of nature, tearing through the human ranks like paper.


    Their roars were loud and primal, vibrating through the air with a force that shook the very bones of the rankers who faced them.


    Human soldiers fired rounds of bullets, but the bullets merely ricocheted off the Ogres'' thick skin.


    Magical spells were cast, lightning bolts arcing through the air, but the Ogres swatted them aside like gnats.


    "AAAAAAARGHHH!"


    The screams of dying men filled the battlefield as the Ogres rampaged, smashing through formations, their fists leaving craters in the ground.


    The humans were shouting orders, casting spells, throwing grenades, but it all seemed hopeless in the face of such raw power.


    Limbs flew through the air, blood soaked the earth, and the Ogres continued their relentless assault, each one more savage than thest.


    Meanwhile, back inside the domain, amidst the suffocating silence, a tiny crack appeared in the Draconic Graveyard.


    The silence was pierced by the sound of bones scraping against stone as a small skeleton emerged from the fissure.


    He was an odd sight¡ªa tiny, almost cute, figurepared to the massive chaos outside.


    His tiny bony feet ttered against the ground as he cautiously stepped out of the crack, his hollow eye sockets darting left and right in sheer terror.


    He trembled, shaking so violently that his bones rattled together.


    He was terrified.


    "Master... please..." he whispered, his voice trembling.


    He didn''t belong in this chaos.


    His small frame was fragilepared to the Ogres rampaging outside, and the battle raging around him was enough to make his bones shiver. But he had a mission. He had to save his master.


    As soon as hended, he saw what was left of Sung Woo-Ji, and his heart¡ªif he had one¡ªsank.


    There, lying in a heap of blood and dust, was the familiar figure of the teenage ranker.


    Sung Woo-Ji''s appearance was a far cry from what it had been before the battle.


    His once sharp eyes were now dull, his skin pale, his clothes shredded and soaked with blood.


    His bodyy lifeless on the ground, motionless, as though all life had left him.


    His messy hair clung to his sweat-drenched forehead, and his chest did not rise or fall.


    He was dead.


    The skeleton gulped, or at least made the sound of it, despitecking a throat.


    His small bony hands trembled as he tried to grasp Woo-Ji''s arm, struggling to drag the lifeless body behind him.


    "Master¡­ please¡­ I''ll take you to another Death Orb... you have to keep it... we can''t let you die here!" he cried, his voice quivering with fear.


    His tiny frame struggled to drag Sung Woo-Ji''s body, which seemed to grow heavier with each passing second.


    The skeleton nced up, watching the battle rage around him.


    The Ogres¡ªnow far more enormous than before¡ªwere decimating everything in their path.


    Bullets flew past the skeleton''s head, the sounds of gunfire and explosions reverberating in the air.


    Magic attacks lit up the sky, but the Ogres were undeterred, their rampage continuing unabated.


    "Master, hang on!" the skeleton squeaked, yanking with all his might as he pulled Woo-Ji''s limp body behind him.


    "Just a few more minutes! Just a few more minutes¡­"


    But the minutes were slipping away.


    The skeleton could see the humans being crushed by the rampaging Ogres.


    He dodged out of the way as one of the monsters stomped down, barely missing him by inches.


    Sweat¡ªor whatever the skeleton equivalent was¡ªdripped from his skull as he continued dragging Woo-Ji''s body through the battlefield.


    "Ten minutes¡­ we only have ten minutes left!" the skeleton gasped, his voice a shaky whisper.


    He nced at the horizon, where the chaos seemed never-ending.


    It felt hopeless.


    Every step forward felt like he was walking through mud.


    His tiny legs struggled under the weight of Woo-Ji''s body, and the Ogres were everywhere.


    The battle showed no signs of slowing down.


    Nine minutes¡­ eight minutes¡­


    The time ticked down, and with each passing minute, the skeleton''s panic grew. He couldn''t let Woo-Ji die here. Not now. Not after everything they had been through.


    "Come on! Please!" the skeleton pleaded, yanking Woo-Ji''s arm, his bones rattling as he struggled.


    The body was so heavy now, every inch of progress felt like moving a mountain.


    The skeleton''s mind raced, his fear growing as time slipped away.


    Six minutes¡­ five minutes¡­


    "Master¡­!" the skeleton cried out, his voice breaking.


    He could hear the heavy footfalls of an Ogre approaching.


    The massive creature lumbered toward him, its eyes locked on the tiny skeleton.


    The skeleton squeaked in fear, dragging Woo-Ji faster, dodging behind a boulder just as the Ogre''s fist came crashing down, sending debris flying.


    "Four minutes¡­"


    The skeleton''s limbs were trembling, his bony hands barely holding onto Woo-Ji''s arm. He was out of time.


    His master was dying, the battlefield was falling apart, and the Ogres were closing in.


    There were only three minutes left.


    He could hear the countdown in his head, ticking down like a death sentence.


    Two minutes¡­


    The skeleton gritted his teeth-or at least the skeletal equivalent-and pulled harder, his mind racing.


    It felt hopeless, every second was slipping through his fingers.


    Woo-Ji''s body was lifeless, cold, and still, and no matter how hard he pulled, it seemed like there wasn''t enough time left to save him.


    Finally, as thest minute approached, the skeleton let out a desperate cry, his voice echoing through the chaos around them.


    "Master, please wake up!"

 Chapter 146: Bong Me-Eon

    The battlefield was a blur of destruction and terror as the little skeleton pulled with all his might, trying to drag Sung Woo-Ji''s limp body through the chaos.


    His bony arms trembled from the effort, and his hollow sockets were filled with fear.


    Each passing second felt like an eternity as the Ogres rampaged all around, their thunderous footsteps shaking the earth.


    Just as the skeleton began to lose hope, a shadow descended from the sky,nding gracefully before him with an impact that sent dust swirling in every direction.


    The figure was tall and imposing, her long ck hair flowing behind her like a midnight curtain.


    She was dressed in sleek battle gear, her eyes sharp and calcting.


    She surveyed the scene with a calm that seemed out of ce amidst the chaos.


    Her presence, however,manded respect and fear from both allies and enemies alike.


    This was no ordinary ranker¡ªthis was Bong Me-Eon, the ss S Ranker, the only one capable of holding her own in the face of such overwhelming odds, easily like facing a little breeze.


    The little skeleton''s jaw dropped.


    "P-P-P-President Bong Me-Eon!" he stammered, his voice quivering with both awe and relief.


    He immediately began jumping up and down in excitement, his tiny bones rattling as he did so.


    "President Bong Me-Eon! President Bong Me-Eon! You''re here!"


    Bong Me-Eon looked down at the skeleton, her brows furrowing slightly as she took in the scene.


    "Even my necromancer disciple was turned into this," she muttered, her voiceced with a mix of concern and frustration. Chapter Discover:


    "This is really a disaster. And I''m the only ss S Ranker here who can deal with some of these creatures, but not all of them¡­"


    The skeleton continued to hop up and down in excitement.


    "Master! Master! Please, you have to save him!" he cried, pointing to the lifeless body of Sung Woo-Ji, whoy at her feet. "He''s still alive! You have to save Master Woo-Ji!"


    Bong Me-Eon''s sharp gaze shifted to the limp form of Sung Woo-Ji.


    Her expression softened just slightly, her lips forming a thin line.


    She knelt down beside him, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear as she examined his condition.


    "Alright," she said calmly. "But tell me, what exactly do I need to do?"


    The skeleton frantically nodded, his small hands gesturing wildly as he tried to exin.


    "He buried something! A Death Ball! Full of spirits! It''s the only thing that can save him!"


    His voice cracked with desperation.


    "Master tried to hide it just in case! But I''m not sure exactly where¡­ it''s in one of the buildings nearby!"


    Bong Me-Eon arched a brow, her lips twitching with mild amusement. "A Death Ball?" she repeated. "And you expect me to go digging around blindly for it?"


    The skeleton nearly burst into tears as he pleaded.


    "Please! Please, Master Bong Me-Eon! I don''t know where exactly, but we have to find it! It''s the only way to save him!"


    Bong Me-Eon sighed, tapping her chin thoughtfully for a moment.


    Then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she reached into her pouch and pulled out a dark orb, swirling with ethereal energy.


    The moment it appeared, the little skeleton froze, his hollow eyes wide with shock.


    "This?" Bong Me-Eon asked, holding the Death Ball in her hand. "Is this what you''re talking about?"


    The skeleton was stunned into silence, his jaw ttering in disbelief.


    He stared at the orb for several long moments before suddenly snapping back to life, his excitement returning tenfold.


    "YES! YES! MASTER OF MY MASTER! YES!"


    He jumped around with renewed energy, hopping in circles as he pointed frantically at the orb.


    "That''s it! That''s the Death Ball! Please, please save him!"


    Bong Me-Eon''s lips curved into a faint smile as she turned her attention back to Sung Woo-Ji.


    Without hesitation, she pressed the Death Ball against his chest, her hand glowing with a faint, eerie light.


    The orb began to pulse, its energy seeping into his body, and the air around them grew thick with a strange, otherworldly power.


    The phenomenon that followed was unlike anything the skeleton had ever seen.


    The sky seemed to darken, as if the sun itself had been swallowed by a shadow.


    The very air around them trembled, rippling with dark energy that made the hairs on the back of Bong Me-Eon''s neck stand on end.


    The ground beneath them began to crack, fissures spreading outward like the roots of a tree, as the Death Ball''s power surged through Sung Woo-Ji''s lifeless form.


    A low hum filled the air, growing louder and more intense with each passing second.


    The energy from the Death Ball was no longer just contained within it¡ªit was spreading, filling the area with a chilling, oppressive presence.


    The wind howled, carrying with it the faint whispers of spirits long forgotten.


    Shadows twisted and writhed, swirling around them like a dark storm.


    Suddenly, Woo-Ji''s body jerked, his chest rising and falling as if some unseen force was pulling him back to life.


    His fingers twitched, his limbs shaking as if he was struggling against invisible chains.


    His face contorted with pain, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before falling shut again.


    Bong Me-Eon''s expression remained calm, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.


    "Stay with me, Woo-Ji," she murmured, pressing the orb harder against his chest.


    The energy continued to flow, and Woo-Ji''s body responded in kind.


    His breathing became more regr, though shallow, and a faint glow began to spread across his skin.


    The little skeleton was hopping frantically beside them, watching the scene with wide-eyed amazement.


    "Master! Master''sing back! He''sing back!" he cried, his voice a mixture of joy and relief.


    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sung Woo-Ji let out a weak cough.


    His eyes opened slowly, ssy and unfocused, but alive.


    Bong Me-Eon let out a quiet sigh of relief, pulling the Death Ball away and stowing it back in her pouch.


    "Woo-Ji," she said softly, her voice gentle but firm. "Can you hear me?"


    Sung Woo-Ji blinked, his gaze drifting upward to meet hers.


    He was pale, his body still weak from the ordeal, but his eyes held a flicker of recognition.


    He tried to speak, but his voice came out as a hoarse whisper.


    "Master¡­" he muttered weakly, his hand trembling as he pointed toward the Draconic Domain Graveyard in the distance. "Please¡­ don''t let the thing out."


    Bong Me-Eon frowned, following his gaze to the towering, bone-chilling graveyard. "Why?" she asked, her voice sharp with concern. "What''s inside there?"


    But Woo-Ji didn''t answer. His body went limp, and he lost consciousness once again, leaving Bong Me-Eon with more questions than answers.


    She nced back at the graveyard, her brows furrowed in thought, before turning her attention to the little skeleton, who was still bouncing with excitement.


    "We''ll figure it out," she said quietly, her eyes dark with determination. "But first, we need to get him to safety."


    The little skeleton nodded frantically, his bony hands sped together in gratitude. "Thank you, President Bong Me-Eon! Thank you! Thank you!"


    With a final nce at the ominous graveyard in the distance, Bong Me-Eon lifted Sung Woo-Ji''s limp body into her arms.


    The battle still raged around them, but she was calm, her mind already working through the next steps.


    This was only the beginning.

 Chapter 147: Domain Destruction

    Volk, still in his massive radioactive Ogre-like form, stood in the center of the chaotic Draconic Graveyard domain, pounding his chest with primal fury.


    His deep, guttural roar echoed through the barren wastnd.


    "VOLK IS THE STRONGEST!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the very earth beneath his feet.


    His eyes were wild, his massive fists clenched tightly as he surveyed the destruction he had caused.


    Suddenly, his system chimed.


    Ding!


    | Mission Completed. |


    For a brief moment, Volk''s rampage halted. He squinted at the notification hovering before him, his mind struggling toprehend the meaning of the words.


    Not all the horde members would perish.


    Volk frowned, his sharp teeth grinding against one another as his brow furrowed in confusion.


    "Horde¡­ safe?" he growled under his breath, feeling a strange mixture of satisfaction and bewilderment. But then, another line appeared.


    | Please keep yourself alive. |


    Volk''s glowing eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Survive?" he muttered, his deep, monstrous voice vibrating through the air.


    "Does that mean¡­ Volk in danger?" The idea that anything could pose a threat to him, the mightiest of all, wasughable. .


    He threw his head back and roared withughter, his booming voice resonating like a thunderstorm.


    "VOLK NOT IN DANGER! VOLK STRONGEST!"


    But something gnawed at the back of his mind. His instincts, honed through countless battles and conquests, whispered that the system''s warning wasn''t meaningless.


    The Draconic Graveyard domain, though twisted and barren, still stood.


    The ground beneath him hadn''t crumbledpletely, and the skies above were still veiled in the eerie, deathly energy.


    The Bone Dragons, after so many fierce battles, had finally stopped reforming.


    Their bonesy scattered across the battlefield, no longer assembling into monstrous forms. But despite that, the domain wasn''t copsing.


    Volk''s massive, hulking form remained trapped within it.


    "Why?" he growled, his massive hands gripping the air as though he could strangle the answer from the very atmosphere. "Why is Draconic Graveyard still here?"


    Then, it clicked. His system had told him to survive.


    Could this domain¡­ explode?


    Volk''s eyes widened, glowing brighter with the sudden realization.


    The graveyard hadn''t been fully destroyed yet, and if it was meant to detonate, he could be trapped inside when it did.


    "NO!" Volk roared, his rage boiling over again. "VOLK WON''T DIE HERE! VOLK SMASH ALL!"


    Without wasting a second, his massive legs coiled like springs, and with a mighty grunt, he leapt into the air, soaring high above the ground.


    His enormous body shot upward like a missile, his muscles straining as he climbed higher and higher into the darkened sky.


    The wind howled around him as his radioactive aura red brighter than ever before, illuminating the dead, barrenndscape below. Chapter Continue:


    "IF IT''S GONNA EXPLODE, THEN VOLK WILL EXPLODE IT FIRST!" he screamed, his voice reverberating through the heavens.


    With every ounce of his strength, Volk twisted in mid-air and mmed his fist down toward the ground.


    The moment his fist made contact, the world shook.


    BOOOOM!


    The force of his impact sent shockwaves rippling through the domain, splitting the ground open like a fractured mirror.


    The earth groaned beneath his power as massive chunks ofnd were thrown into the air, crumbling into dust.


    CRACK! BOOM!


    Volk''s assault tore at the heart of the Draconic Graveyard, sending shockwaves through the entire dimension. But he wasn''t finished.


    As he mmed into the ground, he roared again, driving his fists deeper and deeper into the earth, each blow reverberating like the hammering of the gods.


    The very air seemed to buckle under his raw, destructive power.


    The cracks that ran through the ground widened, spreading like a spider''s web, and the atmosphere around him grew hotter and more oppressive.


    Outside the Death Dragon Dome, the chaos continued.


    In a random corner of the city, the human rankers and Orc horde that had turned into Ogres were locked in a brutal battle.


    The Ogres, farrger and stronger than before, rampaged across the battlefield, their massive fists crushing anything in their path.


    They were loud, their roars deafening as they tore through the human forces like wild animals.


    Blood sttered across the battlefield as the Ogres swung their clubs and fists, smashing human rankers into the ground with terrifying force.


    "AAAARRRGH!!" a human ranker screamed as he was thrown through the air, his body crashing against a crumbling building.


    Another ranker, wielding a ming sword, charged at an Ogre, only to be grabbed mid-swing and crushed in the beast''s hand like a ragdoll.


    The Ogres roared, their deep, guttural voices echoing across the battlefield as they rampaged through the ranks of the human forces.


    "SMASH! KILL! DESTROY!" they chanted, their voices shaking the very air.


    The human rankers fought back with everything they had, unleashing powerful magic and advanced weaponry.


    Explosions of fire, lightning, and ice lit up the battlefield as the rankers tried to hold their ground. But for every Ogre they managed to take down, two more seemed to take its ce.


    The Ogres were relentless, their monstrous strength overwhelming the human forces.


    Amidst this chaos, a strange phenomenon began to ur.


    Above the city, a massive circr object suddenly appeared in the sky.


    It hovered there, high above the battlefield, casting a shadow over the entire city.


    At first, it seemed harmless¡ªlike a marble suspended in mid-air. But then, the ground began to tremble.


    The human rankers and the Orc horde alike stopped in their tracks, their gazes lifting toward the sky in horror.


    The marble-like object trembled, and with each tremor, the air around it grew heavier, more oppressive.


    The ground beneath their feet shook violently, the tremors growing stronger with each passing second.


    BOOOM!


    The sound was deafening.


    The circr object in the sky began to crack, faint lines of light spreading across its surface like lightning.


    Each crack was apanied by a terrifying rumble, like the world itself was splitting apart.


    The rankers and Ogres watched in horror as the cracks grewrger and more pronounced, the marble-like object threatening to shatter at any moment.


    CRACK!


    Another tremor rocked the city, sending buildings toppling and the ground splitting open.


    The sound of cracking stone and the groaning of metal filled the air as the city itself seemed to be on the verge of copse.


    The massive object above them trembled again, and this time, the cracks spread even faster, racing across its surface like wildfire.


    The Ogres, once so full of rage and power, stopped their rampage, staring up at the sky in confusion and fear.


    Even their primal instincts told them something was wrong.


    The human rankers, battered and bruised, looked up with wide eyes, their faces pale with terror.


    "What¡­ what is that?" one of the rankers whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rumbling earth.


    "I don''t know," another ranker replied, her voice trembling with fear. "But whatever it is¡­ it''s not good."


    BOOOOM!


    The marble-like object trembled again, this time with even more force.


    The cracks widened, and with each tremor, the sound grew louder, more horrifying.


    It was as if the very fabric of reality was being torn apart.


    Everyone on the battlefield¡ªhuman rankers, Ogres, and even the monsters¡ªstood frozen, their eyes glued to the sky as the object continued to crack and tremble.


    The tension in the air was palpable, and the fear in their hearts was overwhelming.


    And then, with a deafening CRACK, the object finally shattered.

 Chapter 148: Bong Me-Eons entrance

    The moment the Draconic Graveyard domain shattered, chaos erupted across the battlefield.


    A deafening roar split the air as the fabric of the dimension tore apart, sending shockwaves that rippled through the entire city.


    BOOM!


    The sky itself seemed to scream as fragments of the broken domain plummeted toward the earth, massive chunks of dark energy raining down like meteorites.


    Each impact shook the ground violently, splitting open the streets, leveling buildings, and sending clouds of debris billowing into the air.


    The battlefield was transformed into a hellscape.


    The first wave of destruction was felt by both Ogres and humans alike.


    CRASH!


    A massive piece of the shattered domain smashed into a towering skyscraper, reducing it to rubble in an instant.


    The shockwave from the impact sent nearby rankers flying, their bodies tumbling through the air like ragdolls.


    Screams filled the air as the earth beneath their feet began to crack and copse.


    "RUN!" a human ranker shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of destruction.


    But there was no escaping it.


    The ground split open, swallowing streets, buildings, and entire squads of rankers whole.


    Massive fissures crisscrossed the city, consuming everything in their path.


    The earth trembled violently as chunks of debris rained down from the sky, crushing anyone unfortunate enough to be caught underneath.


    THUD!


    An enormous b of rock mmed into the ground, ttening a group of rankers who had been attempting to flee.


    The Ogres,rger and stronger than before, were thrown off bnce by the sheer force of the copse.


    Some were crushed beneath the falling debris, their massive bodies pinned under the weight of the copsing city.


    Others, though injured, managed to survive, their monstrous strength allowing them to withstand the brunt of the catastrophe.


    Even as the earth crumbled beneath them, they roared in defiance, their hulking forms weathering the destruction with brutal resilience.


    "RROOOAAARR!" one Ogre bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos as he mmed his fist into the ground, sending shockwaves that shook the nearby rubble.


    Despite being battered and bloodied, the Ogres were relentless.


    Their thick, armored skin protected them from the worst of the devastation, allowing them to remain standing while the human rankers were decimated.


    For the humans, however, it was a massacre.


    Rankers scrambled to escape the falling debris, their voices choked with terror as they realized there was nowhere to run.


    BOOM!


    Another massive chunk of the domain crashed into the heart of the city, sending waves of dust and debris sweeping across the battlefield.


    Rankers who had been fighting valiantly moments ago were now reduced to frantic, panicked figures, desperately trying to find cover as the world crumbled around them.


    "HELP! HELP ME!" a ranker screamed, his arm trapped beneath a b of concrete.


    His voice was lost in the deafening roar of destruction as another chunk of debris fell, silencing him forever.


    Despite the overwhelming destruction, a few humans managed to survive.


    Injured and bloodied, they crawled from the wreckage, their bodies battered and bruised. Butpared to the Ogres, their numbers were pitifully few.


    The Ogres, though injured, were still standing, their roars echoing through the battlefield as they surveyed the devastation with savage glee.


    The humans, on the other hand, were at a massive disadvantage.


    Their ranks had been decimated by the copse, and those who had survived were too wounded to continue fighting.


    The battlefield, once a ce of intense conflict, was now a wastnd of rubble and destruction, with only a handful of humans left alive to face the might of the Ogres.


    Bong Me-Eon stood on a distant rooftop, watching the devastation unfold.


    Her sharp eyes took in the scene with grim determination.


    The city was in ruins, and the human rankers were on the verge of total annihtion.


    If something wasn''t done, the Ogres would wipe them outpletely.


    Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the situation. "If I let this continue, the humans will be annihted," she muttered to herself. "I can''t allow that."


    With a deep breath, Bong Me-Eon steeled herself.


    She knew what needed to be done.


    She had faced magical monsters before, and though the Ogres had grown stronger, she had a way to deal with them.


    A method that would even the ying field and give the humans a fighting chance.


    "I have a way to deal with power-boosted magical monsters," she said, her voice calm but filled with a steely resolve. "And it''s going to be easy."


    As the Ogres began to celebrate, their deep roars shaking the battlefield, Bong Me-Eon raised her hand, summoning her magic.


    In an instant, the ground beneath the Ogres began to tremble.


    Several hundred mushrooms sprouted from the earth, their grotesque forms pulsing with an unnatural, eerie light.


    The Ogres, still drunk on their victory, didn''t notice at first. But soon, a strange smell filled the air¡ªa decaying, rotten stench that made even the hulking monsters pause.


    One by one, the Ogres sniffed the air, their faces twisting in confusion. Something was wrong.


    Meanwhile, far away, Bong Me-Eon''s voice cut through the chaos like a knife. "Ephemeral Death Spore," she whispered, her eyes glowing with the power of her spell.


    The moment the words left her lips, the mushrooms exploded.


    BOOOOM!


    Clouds of thick, green spores filled the air, swirling around the battlefield like a deadly fog.


    The Ogres, caught off guard, inhaled the spores before they even realized what was happening.


    For a moment, nothing happened.


    The Ogres looked around, confused and wary.


    Then, one by one, their massive bodies began to convulse.


    Their skin turned a sickly green as the spores took hold, invading their lungs and bloodstream.


    CRACK!


    An Ogre''s arm twisted grotesquely as his muscles began to wither, his once-massive form shrinking under the effects of the deadly spores.


    "RRRAAAAAGH!" another Ogre roared in agony, his eyes bulging as the spores ravaged his insides.


    His body copsed to the ground, writhing and twitching as the life drained out of him.


    The remaining Ogres, realizing toote what was happening, began to panic.


    They tried to flee, but the spores were everywhere.


    Each breath they took was filled with the deadly toxin, and soon, their massive forms began to crumble.


    Bong Me-Eon watched from her distant perch, her face expressionless as the spores did their work.


    "Easy," she muttered under her breath.


    The battlefield was now a ce of eerie silence, the Ogres'' once-mighty roars reduced to pained groans as their bodies withered away under the power of Bong Me-Eon''s deadly spores.

 Chapter 149: Ephemeral Death Spore

    Volk tore through the remnants of the copsed domain, his massive, radioactive form sending debris flying as he rummaged through the wreckage.


    In his mind, he imagined a grand scene¡ªa victory unlike any other.


    "Volk strongest!" he thought, envisioning his Horde, Orcs turned into Ogres, gathering around him.


    They would chant his name in guttural roars, celebrating his triumph.


    His imagination ran wild as he pictured the moment when he''d return to them, standing atop mountains of fallen enemies.


    Volk grinned wickedly to himself as he imagined the Horde¡ªthousands of them, hulking and mighty, rampaging through cities at hismand.


    They would tear down walls, crush entire armies, and leave devastation in their wake.


    "VOLK LEADER!"


    He would roar, and his Horde would respond in kind, their booming voices echoing in unison as they stormed across the battlefield, destroying everything in sight.


    He could see it now¡ªhis followers ripping through ranker defenses, their thick, imprable hides deflecting bullets and spells as if they were mere pebbles.


    "RRAAAGHHH!"


    Volk would lead them, crashing through walls, swinging his massive fists and obliterating entire squads of human rankers.


    His Horde would crush everything in their path. The ground would shake with every step they took, and the world would tremble under the sheer power of Volk''s leadership.


    In his vision, the Horde would celebrate their victories with bloodthirsty cheers.


    "Volk! Volk! Volk!" they would chant.


    He would stand at the forefront, their undisputed leader, basking in the glory of their destruction.


    "We smash! We crush! We destroy!"


    Volk would dere, and the Horde would obey.


    Together, they would raze cities, level mountains, and strike fear into the hearts of every living creature.


    Volk could almost hear their roars of approval, see their bloodied faces, and feel the thrill ofmanding such an unstoppable force.


    But as Volk climbed back to the surface, his excitement and pride swelling with each step, the image in his mind shattered like fragile ss.


    What he saw before him wasn''t the victorious Horde he had imagined.


    No, what he saw was nothing but a field of devastation¡ªand not the kind he had hoped for.


    The Ogres, his mighty Horde,y strewn across the battlefield.


    They were scattered like broken toys, their massive bodies lifeless, their once fearsome roars reced by silence.


    Some had already begun to revert back to their Orc forms, their hulking shapes shrinking and twisting into the smaller, weaker figures they once were.


    "WHAT... WHAT THIS?"


    Volk''s deep voice rumbled with confusion as he looked around, his glowing eyes scanning the battlefield.


    His Horde¡ªhis loyal warriors¡ªwere not breathing.


    They were not cheering.


    They were lying there, motionless.


    Volk''s heart pounded in his chest.


    "NO... NOOOO!" he growled, his massive fists clenching at his sides.


    "Volk''s Horde... supposed to live!"


    His anger began to boil as he watched thest few Ogres stumble and fall, their strength drained, their once-powerful forms crumpling to the ground.


    "WHY?!"


    His eyes caught movement. An Ogre still standing, though barely, was swaying on its feet.


    Before Volk could react, the Ogre staggered, and right in front of it, a mushroom erupted, releasing a cloud of green, deadly spores.


    The Ogre coughed, its massive body convulsing as it struggled to stay upright.


    Within moments, it grew drowsy, its eyes rolling back before it copsed to the ground with a heavy thud.


    Volk''s radioactive aura red.


    "No... no! What is this?"


    He took a step forward, his massive foot cracking the earth beneath him.


    His glowing eyes flickered with fury as he scanned the battlefield for answers. His mind raced.


    What could be killing his Horde?


    The deathly spores continued to drift through the air, their sickly green mist swirling around the bodies of his fallen warriors.


    Then it hit him.


    The spores.


    It was these cursed mushrooms that were killing them!


    His body trembled with rage, his muscles bulging even more as he finally understood what was happening. But how? He hadpleted the mission.


    The system promised that his Horde wouldn''t perish!


    "System!"


    Volk roared, his voice shaking the ground beneath him.


    "Volkplete the mission! Why they die?"


    His hulking form stood in the midst of the carnage, looking for an answer from the unseen force that guided him.


    Suddenly, a familiar ding echoed in his ears.


    | System under maintenance. |


    The message was cold and indifferent.


    It offered no exnation, no reassurance, just those three words.


    Volk stood there, frozen in shock for a moment, staring at the notification as his Hordey dead around him.


    The anger inside him built to a dangerous level, his radioactive form sparking with raw, untamed energy.


    "VOLK ANGRY!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the ground as his frustration turned into pure rage.


    His muscles bulged even further as the heat radiated off his body.


    His vision grew hazy, the edges of his sight blurring with a growing drowsiness.


    Volk shook his head, trying to stay focused, but the spores were getting to him too.


    He felt his limbs grow heavy, his mind growing sluggish. "No... no sleep... Volk must survive!"


    In desperation, Volk roared, and with a burst of his remaining energy, he leaped into the air like a missile,unching himself skyward with terrifying speed.


    WHOOSH!


    He shot through the clouds, a radioactive streak against the darkening sky.


    His massive form blurred as he pushed higher and higher, his glowing body lighting up the horizon.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, Bong Me-Eon observed the battlefield below with a smile.


    The Ogres were falling, one by one, sumbing to her Ephemeral Death Spores.


    Some had already reverted to their Orc forms, smaller and weaker, as the magic drained out of them.


    "Fascinating," she mused, watching as their transformation unwound before her eyes. "I''ve never seen anything like this before¡ªan Orc turning into an Ogre. Such strong creatures... but they''re all the same. Berserkers and raging beasts fall easily when they''re unconscious."


    She nced at her disciple, Song Woo-Ji, whoy recovering beside her. "I''ll have to teach you how to deal with these kinds of monsters, too," she muttered to herself, her mind already nning future lessons.


    But then, Bong Me-Eon''s eyes narrowed as she sensed something.


    A surge of powerful magic particles gathered in one spot, emanating from the battlefield.


    Her heart skipped a beat, and she whipped her head up, searching for the source.


    And there, high above the battlefield, she saw it.


    A figure¡ªa massive, glowing shape¡ªracing upward with the speed of aet.


    "What...?"


    Bong Me-Eon''s breath caught in her throat as she realized what it was.


    Swoosh!


    The sound of Volk''s rapid ascent sliced through the air, growing louder with every passing second.

 Chapter 150: VOLK SAVE HORDE

    Bong Me-Eon''s eyes sharpened as she sensed the magical strengthing from the creature soaring through the sky.


    The sheer force of its presence sent chills down her spine.


    This wasn''t just another Ogre or Orc. No, this was something more dangerous.


    Something far beyond the monsters below, which, at best, could only reach the initial stages of ss A strength.


    This one, though, radiated an aura that signified it was at the very peak of ss A.


    Her brows knitted together as her mind raced.


    "Is that their leader?" she wondered.


    The realization that this creature could possibly orchestrate the entire battle sent waves of concern through her.


    She took a deep breath, and a surge of necromantic energy poured out from her, thick with the scent of death.


    It cloaked her in a dark aura that flickered like ck fire, making the air around her feel heavier, colder.


    "No chances," she muttered under her breath.


    Suddenly, the ground near her feet cracked open, and from it emerged a series of coffins¡ªlong, ck, and ancient.


    Their surfaces were carved with jagged, eerie symbols that seemed to pulse with a life of their own, glowing faintly in the dim light.


    The coffins themselves were immense, towering over her like sentinels of death.


    They were covered in swirling mist that coiled and drifted, obscuring the ground around them, as if the air itself feared their presence.


    The coffins'' surfaces were covered in bony, skeletal hands etched into the wood, as if trapped souls were wing their way out, frozen in a perpetual struggle.


    Every few seconds, a faint groan would echo from within, as if the dead themselves whispered warnings of the darkness held inside.


    The edges of the coffins were lined with thick iron chains, their rusted links rattling eerily, hinting at the untold horrors within.


    "Come forth, my sentinels..."


    Bong Me-Eon whispered, her voice cold andmanding.


    The coffins stood there, ominous, their weight pressing down on the battlefield as if they could tear open the veil between life and death at any moment.


    They stood like dark monoliths, prepared to unleash devastation upon hermand.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, far above the battlefield, Volk hung suspended in mid-air, his massive, radioactive form glowing with an ominous green hue.


    His breath came in heavy, growling huffs as he gazed down at the scene below.


    The battlefield was shrouded in a sickly mist, the deathly spores wafting through the air from the cursed mushrooms that had decimated his Horde.


    His Horde. Volk''s glowing eyes narrowed.


    "Volk''s Horde¡­ no cheer for Volk..." he muttered, his fists clenching at his sides.


    He hated this.


    He hated seeing them lying there, unmoving.


    They should be roaring his name, praising him, charging forward at hismand. Instead, they were silent, fallen.


    The spore-filled mist stole their strength and left them helpless, no longer able to serve him, to revel in the violence they created together.


    The thought burned inside him, stoking the mes of his fury.


    "Volk HATE THIS!" he roared, his voice booming across the sky.


    His rage coursed through his body, swelling his muscles even further, making his hulking frame tremble with raw energy.


    He had to destroy the spores, eradicate the mist that had taken his Horde from him.


    Then, an idea formed in Volk''s mind, primal and simple, but powerful.


    His lips curled into a wicked grin as he raised his massive arms above his head.


    "Volk... p."


    He spread his arms wide, stretching them out as far as they could go.


    Then, with a sharp, deliberate motion, he mmed them together in a powerful p.


    WHAM!


    The force sent shockwaves rippling through the air, but it wasn''t enough. Not yet.


    "ARRRGHHH!"


    Volk groaned, his deep, guttural voice filled with anger as he pped his hands again.


    WHAM!


    The air quivered beneath the intensity of the strike.


    The spores around him trembled but didn''t dissipate. Volk''s frustration grew as his roars became louder.


    "ARRRGHH! ARRGHH!" he groaned again, pping harder, the sound of his palms mming together growing louder with each strike.


    WHAM! WHAM!


    The ps echoed across the battlefield, each one sending stronger ripples through the air, shaking the ground below.


    Volk''s muscles bulged grotesquely with each p, veins popping as his radioactive energy surged through his body.


    His sinews tightened, his massive biceps expanding with every ounce of power he poured into his next movement.


    His body glowed brighter, his skin crackling with radiation, as the intensity built with each passing moment.


    "ARRRGHHHHH!"


    He let out an even louder roar, the force of his voice alone causing the ground below to quake.


    His next p shook the very sky itself.


    WHAM! WHAM!


    The ps were like thunder, reverberating across the battlefield with deafening power.


    Each p grew more intense, the air itself seeming to ripple in fear of the force behind Volk''s fury.


    Finally, with a final, earth-shattering WHAM, Volk pped his hands together with all the strength he had gathered.


    The impact sent a shockwave so powerful that the very clouds above parted, and the spore-filled mist below swirled violently, dissipating under the force of the blow.


    As Volk''s hands connected for that final p, the muscles in his armspressed with terrifying force, veins bulging like ropes as his entire body surged with energy.


    KABAM!


    The ground below erupted as Volk came crashing down, mming both his massive palms into the earth with all his might.


    The impact was cataclysmic, sending out a devastating shockwave that tore through the battlefield.


    The air roared with a thunderous BOOM, and the cursed spores that had nketed the battlefield were obliterated, scattered into nothingness.


    The oppressive mist was no more.


    Volk stood tall amidst the destruction, his chest heaving, his fists pressed deep into the earth, his radioactive aura still burning bright around him.


    Below, the Ogres and Orcs stirred.


    One by one, they began to wake, groaning as they struggled to their feet.


    Their eyes flickered open, and slowly, they rose from the ground.


    Some of them blinked, confused, but soon, their roars returned¡ªquiet at first, but growing louder.


    They were alive.


    The Horde had survived.


    Volk stood tall, his fists still buried in the ground as he looked around at his revived Horde. "Volk... save Horde," he muttered, a deep satisfaction creeping into his voice. His Horde was back. They could cheer for him again.


    And cheer they did.


    The Ogres and Orcs let out deafening roars, their voices filling the air, returning to life, to strength.


    "VOLK! VOLK! VOLK! VOLK!"


    "VOLK! VOLK! VOLK! VOLK!"


    They were happy!


    They didn''t know what happened earlier, they were confused, but seeing the mushrooms, some few of them realized what it meant but most of them thought one thing.


    Volk save them!

 Chapter 151: HORDE THUNDER CLAP

    From atop the building, Bong Me-Eon watched the battlefield unfold like a twisted y, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile.


    "Ah, so that''s what you did," she mused quietly.


    "You used sheer force to blow the spores away."


    Her tone was amused, but underneath seemed to have a calcted edge to it.


    She was impressed with Orc''s raw, brute strength, but she wasn''t about to let him undo her work so easily.


    Her hand slowly rose into the air, fingers tracing the space above her as she whispered an incantation.


    The air around her grew cold again, the dark aura seeping from her once more as if the very essence of death was manifesting from her fingertips.


    The sky seemed to dim slightly as her magic coiled, waiting for hermand.


    "EPHEMERAL DEATH SPORE," she dered, her voice slicing through the air like a crack of thunder.


    The words themselves seemed to carry an eerie weight, as if the very sound of them held death within.


    The shockwave of her incantation rippled outward from her, a visible disturbance that spread across the battlefield in a series of ominous, dark waves.


    The shockwave surged forward like a spectral wind, sweeping through the city streets.


    It moved fast, but there was an odd, almost graceful fluidity to it.


    The wave twisted and turned, following the contours of the battlefield, snaking around ruined buildings and debris like a silent reaper, unnoticed by those too busy fighting.


    As the shockwave touched the mushrooms scattered across the city, they began to tremble.


    It started with the closest one.


    It shook violently as though something was crawling inside it, trying to break free.


    Then, the shockwave passed to another, and another, the effect cascading through the streets.


    Each mushroom quivered at the touch of the spell, the tremors growing stronger and more erratic as the wave continued its journey.


    The scene was terrifying to behold.


    From any vantage point, you could see the wave moving through the streets like an unstoppable force of nature, touching mushroom after mushroom.


    Each one shuddered violently, their spores swelling, their stems twitching like something alive.


    The dark, deathly aura that clung to them intensified, bing more visible to the naked eye, like a sinister fog creeping closer.


    One by one, the mushrooms erupted.


    Not like before, with mild clouds of spores driftingzily into the air.


    No, this time the spores were unleashed with a force that could only be described as cataclysmic.


    From the trembling fungi burst thick, choking clouds of deadly spores, rolling out like a tsunami of smoke.


    The air itself seemed to turn to poison as the clouds expanded, the ckish-green mist swallowing everything in its path.


    The spores moved like a living entity, a massive wave of death that rolled through the city streets, consuming buildings, rubble, and anything in its path.


    The sound of it was horrifying¡ªa low, rumbling growl as the mist thickened, blotting out the sky as it moved.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, Volk stood among his celebrating Horde.


    "VOLK VOLK VOLK!"


    The Ogres and Orcs around him roared and cheered, their voices booming in triumph.


    Volk himself grinned wide, his massive chest heaving with satisfaction as he basked in the praise of his Horde.


    They were alive!


    They were strong!


    He had saved them!


    But then, the cheering stopped.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed, sensing something wrong.


    He turned, and there, in the distance, he saw it¡ªa massive tsunami of smoke, darker and thicker than before, rolling toward them with terrifying speed.


    It wasn''t just a mist this time; it was a wall of death, surging forward like a living, breathing entity.


    The death spores were back, and they were more powerful than ever.


    Volk''s grin faded for a moment, reced by a grim understanding.


    He hated that mist.


    Hated how it weakened his Horde, how it threatened to undo everything. But then, a wicked smirk curled on his lips.


    This was nothing.


    Nothing that Volk and his Horde couldn''t handle.


    He threw his head back and roared.


    "HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORDE!"


    The sound was so loud, it made the very ground vibrate.


    Every Ogre and Orc within earshot stopped in their tracks, turning toward Volk with wide, eager eyes.


    They listened intently, awaiting their leader''smand.


    Volk''s massive hand pointed toward the oing wave of deathly mist, his glowing eyes burning with fury. "YOU SEE THAT? YOU SEE THAT CLOUD?" he shouted, his voice deep and guttural. "THAT CLOUD TRY TAKE YOU DOWN AGAIN! VOLK SAY... NO!


    WE HORDE STRONGER! WE SMASH CLOUD!"


    The Ogres and Orcs roared in response, their blood boiling at the thought of another challenge.


    Volk''s grin widened.


    He knew he had them.


    "LISTEN CLOSE!" he bellowed. "YOU TAKE HANDS... LIKE THIS!"


    He raised his massive palms together, spreading his fingers wide as he demonstrated.


    The Horde mimicked him, watching his every move closely.


    "SPREAD FINGERS... WIDE! HANDS STRONG! THEN... YOU CLAP!"


    Volk mmed his palms together with a thunderous WHAM!, the force of it sending a gust of wind spiraling out from him.


    "CLAP! SMASH CLOUD! MAKE WIND! BIG WIND! WE BLOW CLOUD AWAY!"


    The Ogres and Orcs looked at each other, determination flickering in their eyes.


    They spread their hands, preparing to p just as Volk had shown them.


    "ALL TOGETHER!"


    Volk roared.


    "YOU CLAP WHEN VOLK SAY! READY! READY!"


    The tension in the air was palpable as the Horde readied themselves, hands spread wide, arms tensed, waiting for the signal.


    The death cloud surged closer, its ck mass filling the horizon.


    The ground trembled as the spores rolled toward them, but Volk stood tall, unafraid.


    "NOW!" he shouted. "CLAP!"


    WHAM!


    Thousands of Ogres and Orcs pped in unison, their massive palms mming together with a sound like a cannon st.


    The force was incredible, a shockwave of wind that tore through the battlefield, pushing back against the death cloud.


    But Volk wasn''t done.


    "AGAIN! CLAP AGAIN! HARDER!"


    WHAM!


    Another p, louder than the first.


    The wind intensified, swirling with more power as it pressed against the spores.


    "AGAIN! CLAP! CLAP!"


    Volk''s voice boomed over the battlefield as he led the Horde in a furious rhythm of pping, each one stronger, louder than thest.


    The air quivered with the force of theirbined power, the ground shaking beneath their feet.


    With each p, the wind built in strength, howling through the streets like a living thing.


    The spores in the distance began to buckle under the pressure, their advance slowing as the wind pushed harder and harder against them.


    WHAM! WHAM!


    The Ogres and Orcs pped with everything they had, their roars mixing with the sound of their hands mming together.


    Volk''s voice rang out over the chaos, urging them on.


    "SMASH CLOUD! SMASH IT!"


    The wind swirled into a vortex, spinning faster and faster, gathering strength with every p.


    The death cloud wavered, the spores within it scattering, unable to withstand the force.


    Then, with one final, earth-shattering WHAM, the wind exploded outward in a massive gust, tearing through the battlefield.


    The death cloud was ripped apart, its thick, poisonous mist scattered into nothingness, blown away like dust on the wind.


    The Horde erupted into cheers, their voices filling the air with triumphant roars. They had done it. They had smashed the cloud. They had survived.


    And Volk stood at the center of it all, his chest heaving with pride, his fists clenched in victory. His Horde was strong. His Horde was unstoppable.


    "HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORDE!!!" He roared, "STROOOOOOONG!!!!" he roared again, his voice filled with the thrill of triumph, and the Horde roared back, their voices shaking the very sky.

 Chapter 152: Reinforcement

    From her vantage point, Bong Me-Eon watched in disbelief as the Horde below celebrated their victory. Her brows furrowed deeply, lips pressed into a thin line.


    "How...?" she muttered to herself.


    Most Orc tribes were chaotic, mindless, throwing themselves into battle with no real strategy or cohesion.


    But this tribe¡ªthey were different.


    They were organized, disciplined, and frighteningly responsive to their leader, leader.


    Even though she was an S-ss ranker, she knew that taking on such a well-coordinated group, especially ones that could turn into Ogres, would be beyond even her abilities alone.


    Her mind raced with questions.


    "Is it because they can turn into Ogres?" she pondered aloud, turning over possibilities in her mind.


    Ogres were typically brutish, cannibalistic creatures, known for their wild nature andck of reasoning.


    Yet here they were, these Orcs-turned-Ogres, behaving rationally and responding tomands.


    "Something''s wrong with this picture," Bong Me-Eon murmured. "This isn''t normal."


    Just as she was about to delve deeper into her thoughts, the unmistakable rhythmic thrum of helicopter des caught her attention.


    The noise grew louder, cutting through the chaotic battlefield like an ominous announcement.


    She turned around quickly, her eyes widening at the sight.


    Above her, an entire fleet of military helicopters filled the sky.


    There were so many, it looked as if the heavens had unleashed a swarm of steel birds.


    Their ck, angr bodies gleamed in the dim light, their des slicing through the air with a deafening roar.


    As they hovered, ropes were dropped, and one by one, figures d in heavybat gear descended swiftly to the ground.


    Bong Me-Eon could sense them immediately¡ªthe thick aura of power radiating from each one.


    These weren''t ordinary soldiers.


    They were rankers. And not just any rankers.


    These were ss A.


    The scene was an organized flurry of activity.


    Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of rankers poured out of the helicopters, each onending with practiced precision.


    The sound of boots hitting the ground, weapons clinking, and the constant hum of helicopters made the atmosphere tense.


    The air was thick with the weight of impending battle.


    Bong Me-Eon''s eyes narrowed as she studied them.


    "ss A, huh?" she muttered, feeling a small twinge of relief.


    Reinforcements were finally here, but would they be enough?


    Even for ss A rankers, the organized Horde down below would be no easy task.


    Suddenly, a deep voice spoke from behind her, pulling her from her thoughts.


    "S-ss Ranker Bong Me-Eon, correct?"


    She turned swiftly to see a tall man standing beside her.


    He was armored head to toe in sleek, darkbat gear that looked almost imprable.


    His helmet, adorned with the insignia of high-ranking officials, covered most of his face, leaving only his sharp eyes visible.


    Arge, reinforced chest te protected his torso, and his shoulders were lined with reinforced padding.


    Attached to his belt were various weapons¡ªdes, firearms, and gadgets designed for any number ofbat scenarios.


    He carried himself with a sense of authority, his presencemanding immediate attention.


    The man removed his helmet, revealing a stern, battle-hardened face.


    His eyes were sharp and calcting, scanning the battlefield for any signs of danger.


    His short, graying hair and the scars that ran across his face told the story of a veteran who had seen many battles.


    "I need a full report," he said, his voice low and gravelly.


    "We''ve lost contact with the ss B rankers that were dispatched earlier. How many of them are left? What''s the situation down there?"


    Bong Me-Eon sighed, her expression somber as she turned her gaze back toward the field of carnage below.


    "None," she replied bluntly. "They''re all gone. Wiped out."


    The man''s jaw tightened at her words. "How?"


    "The monsters," Bong Me-Eon exined, her voice calm butced with frustration.


    "Orcs. ss C, initially. But they have this... ability. They can transform into Ogres. When they do, they''re ss A monsters.


    That''s how they overwhelmed the ss B and C rankers. They weren''t prepared for that kind of power."


    The man''s brow furrowed as he processed her words.


    "ss C Orcs... turning into ss A Ogres?"


    He shook his head, his expression darkening.


    "That''s... catastrophic." He nced back at the soldiers who were preparing for battle, his face grim. "It makes sense why they never stood a chance."


    Bong Me-Eon nodded. "Exactly. It was an ambush. They weren''t expecting the transformation." She clenched her fists. "If we don''t deal with this soon, there won''t be any humans left standing in this city."


    The man let out a slow breath, his gaze hardening as he looked out over the city.


    "Then we''ll avenge them," he said quietly, his voice heavy with determination. "That''s the least we can do for those who gave their lives."


    Bong Me-Eon said nothing, but her expression hardened as she prepared herself mentally for what was toe.


    The man''s eyes locked on Bong Me-Eon as he asked, "What''s the n, then? What should we do?"


    Bong Me-Eon didn''t answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed as she stared down at the battlefield, watching the Horde below celebrate their recent victory.


    Her mind was already working through countless possibilities, strategies, and risks.


    Finally, she spoke, her voice cool but firm.


    "We need to take out the leader," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "He''s the one holding them together. Without him, the Horde will fall apart. If we don''t act fast, they''ll overwhelm us through sheer numbers and coordination."


    The man''s face tightened. "Why the leader?"


    Bong Me-Eon sighed softly. "These Orcs have transformed into something far more dangerous¡ªOgres. Normally, Ogres are brutal, savage creatures, but they don''t organize. They don''t lead. They devour anything, even their own.


    "But this Horde... they''re organized. They have a sense of unity and discipline that''s unnatural for their kind. That only happens when there''s someone holding them together, and that''s the leader. He''s the key. If we eliminate him, the rest will scatter, panic, and turn on each other."


    The man nodded, his jaw clenched. "And how do we separate him from the Horde? It''s not like he''s going to give us a chance to pick him off without a fight."


    Bong Me-Eon crossed her arms, her sharp eyes still focused on the battlefield as she thought carefully about her response.


    After a long pause, she offered four suggestions, each more dangerous than thest.


    "First," she began, "we can lure him away. We need to use something¡ªor someone¡ªthat the leader can''t resist. He''s impulsive and arrogant. If we can bait him into chasing us, we can pull him away from the Horde.


    "But the bait needs to be strong, something that will anger him, something he can''t ignore. Maybe a powerful disy of force, or an insult to his authority in front of his followers. It''s risky, though. The person who acts as the bait may not survive."


    The man''s expression hardened as she continued.


    "Second," she said, "we can cut off his supply of reinforcements. Right now, the Horde follows his lead, but they''re also drawing strength from the fact that they''re still organized.


    "If we can create chaos within their ranks¡ªsplit them into smaller, more manageable groups¡ªwe can weaken them before the leader has a chance to respond.


    "We''ll need to sow confusion, maybe by using illusions or attacking from multiple fronts. It''s dangerous, though. We risk getting caught in the crossfire if we''re not careful."


    She paused for a moment, gauging his reaction before continuing with the next suggestion.


    "Third," Bong Me-Eon said, her voice lower now, "we can try to take out his lieutenants first. The leader may be the strongest, but he''s not working alone. He has a few key lieutenants, other powerful Ogres that help him maintain control over the Horde.


    "If we can eliminate them, the leader will be forced to handle the situation on his own. Without his trustedmanders, he might lose his grip on the Horde.


    "But that''s easier said than done. Each of those lieutenants could almost as strong as their leader himself. Taking them out won''t be easy, and it''ll take time¡ªtime we may not have."


    The man''s eyes flickered with concern, but Bong Me-Eon didn''t stop there. She had one final, desperate suggestion.


    "Lastly," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "we go straight for the heart. Weunch a full-scale attack on the leader himself, but we hit hard and fast.


    "We take every avable ranker we have, focus all our firepower on him, and overwhelm him before he can react. It''ll be brutal, and we''ll suffer heavy losses, but it''s the most direct way to end this quickly.


    "We won''t have the luxury of a drawn-out battle. If we go with this n, we have to be prepared to lose people. A lot of people."


    For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension. Bong Me-Eon''s suggestions were all risky, and each one came with the potential for significant loss.


    The man stared at her, his jaw set in grim determination. He understood the stakes.


    Finally, after a long, heavy silence, he spoke. "So be it," he said, his voice steady. "We''ll take the risk. Whatever it takes to bring down this Horde, we''ll do it. For the fallen, for the city. We can''t afford to lose."


    But before they could move to put any of the ns into action, a voice called out from behind them.


    "Wait!"


    The word cut through the air like a knife, freezing both of them in ce.


    Bong Me-Eon and the man turned around swiftly, their eyes narrowing as they searched for the source of the voice.

 Chapter 153: Dont go

    Song Woo-Ji''s trembling body struggled to stay upright, his legs quivering beneath him.


    His skin was pallid, his face gaunt and drenched in sweat.


    His eyes, usually sharp with determination, were zed over as if he were still fighting to remain in thend of the living.


    His breath came in shallow gasps as he leaned against the cold metal of the rooftop for support, his chest rising and falling unevenly.


    He was a shadow of his former self, weakened after the ordeal of death and revival, but there was a desperate urgency in his eyes.


    "D-D-Don''t¡­ g-go!" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was a clear note of pleading. "D-Don''t¡­ go¡­"


    Bong Me-Eon turned her head sharply, concerned etching across her face as she watched her disciple struggle to even form words.


    "Woo-Ji, why?" she asked gently, kneeling down beside him, her tone soft but serious. "Why shouldn''t we go? What do you know?"


    Song Woo-Ji''s throat convulsed, and he forced the words out, each syble like dragging a boulder up a steep hill.


    "W-we need¡­ stronger reinforcements¡­ SSS-ss ranker¡­" His eyes were wide with fear. "Or¡­ w-we''ll all¡­ d-die¡­"


    The armored man standing beside them, his helmet gleaming under the faint moonlight, narrowed his eyes. "Who is this?" he asked, his voice gruff as he gestured toward the weakened youth.


    Bong Me-Eon straightened her back, casting a quick nce at the man. "He''s my disciple, Song Woo-Ji," she said, her voice calm yet protective.


    The man raised a brow beneath his helmet, eyeing the trembling figure of Woo-Ji skeptically. "Did he fight the leader of the Orcs?"


    With what little strength he had left, Song Woo-Ji nodded vigorously, though his whole body shook as he did so.


    The man''s lips curled in slight disdain. "This kid''s weak," he muttered. "Maybe he''s just imagining things. Overestimating the enemy."


    His tone was dismissive, as though Song Woo-Ji''s warning was just the rambling of someone out of their depth.


    "It''s not umon for rookies to think every enemy is unbeatable."


    But Bong Me-Eon remained silent, her gaze fixed on her disciple''s face.


    She knew Woo-Ji too well.


    His instincts had saved her and others before.


    This wasn''t fear or exaggeration.


    It was something far worse¡ªcertainty.


    The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know.


    Suddenly, the sound of footsteps behind them drew their attention.


    Several ss A rankers approached, their armor gleaming in the faint light of the moon, faces set with grim determination.


    One of them stepped forward, saluting both Bong Me-Eon and the armored man.


    "Sir, ma''am," the lead ranker said, clearly addressing the two S-ss rankers. "Should we move in now?"


    The armored man turned to the group, his face hardening into a resolute mask. "Let''s go!" he barked.


    Without another word, he leaped from the rooftop, his body plummeting through the air for a moment before his form shot forward like a bullet, slicing through the sky with deadly precision.


    Several of the ss A rankers followed closely behind, their movements sharp and controlled, leaping off the rooftop in pursuit.


    But one of the rankers remained behind, his head tilting slightly as he waited for Bong Me-Eon.


    His eyes flickered between her and Song Woo-Ji, clearly unsure of what was happening.


    Bong Me-Eon, however, was lost in thought, her eyes darkening with worry.


    She had seen this look on Woo-Ji''s face before, on more than one asion, when they''d faced enemies thought impossible to defeat. And every single time, he made the right call.


    She took a deep breath and made a decision.


    Reaching into her pocket, Bong Me-Eon pulled out a small, sleekmunication device.


    Without hesitation, she dialed a number, her fingers moving swiftly across the interface. "Woo-Ji''s instincts have never failed me before," she whispered to herself, casting a worried nce at her disciple. "If he says we need stronger reinforcements, then we do."


    Themunication device rang once¡­ then twice. Bong Me-Eon''s heart pounded in her chest as the tension built.


    Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the call connected, and a gruff voice on the other end spoke.


    "Who is it?"


    Bong Me-Eon''s hand clenched tightly around the device. "We might need you," she said, her voice steady but full of urgency. "Maybe it''s going to be worse than we thought."


    ¡­


    Volk''s massive form towered over the battlefield, his skin pulsing with a radioactive glow.


    His body crackled with vtile energy, the air around him shimmering with heatwaves as his rage-fueled, monstrous strength radiated from every pore.


    He clenched his fists, feeling the power surging through his veins, and let out a deafening roar that shook the ground beneath him.


    "RRAAAAGGGHHH!"


    The bellow reverberated across the brokenndscape, rattling the remnants of shattered buildings, sending waves of fear through the humans and even the Ogres who had just moments ago cheered him on.


    Volk reveled in this form¡ªhis Radioactive transformation made him feel invincible, like a god towering over lesser beings.


    He thought for a fleeting moment: "Why haven''t I turned back yet?"


    It had been well over ten minutes.


    Usually, by now, his system would have forced him to return to his regr Orc form. "The system''s still updating," he reassured himself with a smug grin, his tusks gleaming menacingly in the low light of the battlefield.


    "No matter¡­ I like this form. Stronger¡­ better."


    He flexed his gargantuan arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as they coiled, ready to unleash another devastating blow.


    His deep green eyes scanned the ruined city beneath him, the scattered mushrooms that had once spewed death now vanquished by his sheer might.


    "They can''t stop me," he thought. "No one can."


    But then, Volk''s senses red, something sharp and ominous pricking at the edges of his awareness.


    It was distant¡ªfar off, but it wasing.


    Fast.


    His instincts, honed from an undeniable thirst of violence, screamed at him to take notice.


    His muscles tensed involuntarily, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.


    "What¡­ is that?" he muttered, his brow furrowing in confusion.


    The pressure grew, a palpable force, like the very air itself was bending and warping as whatever it was approached.


    Volk''s red eyes darted across the horizon, trying to pinpoint the source of the overwhelming presence.


    Each second dragged out painfully long as the sensation grew stronger, heavier.


    His heart began to beat faster, not from fear, but from the thrill of a worthy challenge.


    Whatever wasing for him was no ordinary opponent.


    "Come on then!" Volk roared to the sky, his voice filled with wild, reckless excitement. "COME AT ME!"


    The wind picked up, howling through the ruined city streets as the force approached.


    It was like a freight train barreling through space, growing louder, faster, more intense with every passing moment.


    The ground itself seemed to tremble beneath Volk''s feet as the sheer energy of the iing threat rolled over him in invisible waves.


    It was powerful¡ªterrifyingly so.


    The kind of power that made even Volk, in his Radioactive form, feel a twinge of unease.


    The distant sky began to warp, a streak of light zing across the dark horizon.


    Volk''s eyes narrowed, honing in on the source of that light.


    He could see it now¡ªa zing streak of pure, condensed energy, ripping through the atmosphere like a meteor.


    It was hurtling toward him at breakneck speed, a force so concentrated that the very air around it seemed to ripple and distort, warping the fabric of reality itself.


    "Faster!"


    Volk''s voice rumbled with anticipation.


    The pressure in the air intensified.


    His muscles tightened further, preparing for whatever this was.


    His radioactive glow red brighter, the heat from his body increasing as his excitement grew.


    His mind raced, thoughts of battle flooding his head. "Finally¡­ a real fight!"


    The streak of energy drew closer, tearing through the sky with deafening speed.


    Volk''s eyes widened in disbelief as the shape became clearer.


    It was no mere projectile¡ªit was a man.


    The armored figure hurtling through the air was shrouded in a golden glow, moving so fast that Volk could barely register his form.


    The wind from his speed whipped up tornado-like gusts around him, carving deep trenches into the ground below as he passed over the broken city.


    "What the hell is that?!"


    Volk growled, but his voice was drowned out by the sheer force of the armored man''s velocity.


    The man was a missile, a bullet of raw power aimed straight at Volk.


    As the figure sped closer, the force of his approach became unbearable.


    The pressure around Volk intensified, making even his Radioactive form feel small inparison.


    The very air vibrated with power, the sky itself seemed to bow beneath the weight of this unstoppable force.


    Volk clenched his fists, his face contorting into a mixture of excitement and rage.


    "COME ON!" he roared, the ground cracking beneath him as his rage intensified. "I''LL CRUSH YOU!"


    In the final moments before impact, Volk braced himself.


    The air around him shimmered with radioactive energy, his muscles bulging to their limits, veins pulsing with anticipation.


    He was ready to meet this challenge head-on.


    But then, in the blink of an eye, the armored man didn''t collide with him as Volk expected.


    Instead, the man zoomed past Volk at a blinding speed, a streak of golden light trailing behind him, leaving the hulking Radioactive beast standing there, blinking in confusion.


    The man didn''t even seem to register Volk''s presence.


    "Wha¡­?"


    Volk grunted, caught off guard.


    His towering form swayed slightly as he tried to process what had just happened.


    He turned his head, following the trajectory of the armored man, watching as he crashed straight into the earth far ahead, sending up a cataclysmic shockwave of dust and debris into the sky.


    Volk''s growl turned into a frustrated roar, his han


    ds curling into fists. "YOU!" he shouted, the ground beneath him shaking from the force of his anger. "COME BACK HERE!"


    But the armored man had already gone past him, crashing headlong into the city ahead.

 Chapter 154: Uneasy Smirk

    The man in the armor floated above the battlefield, his arms crossed arrogantly, casting a sneering gaze upon Volk and his horde.


    His polished armor gleamed in the dim light, radiating a golden glow that seemed to mock the chaos unfolding below.


    His eyes narrowed, observing with cold detachment as his allies, the human rankers, advanced in perfect formation, weapons drawn and magic swirling around them like a deadly storm.


    Volk, his senses sharpened by his Radioactive form, felt the shift in the air.


    His massive frame tensed as his eyes darted behind him, sensing the sudden influx of human rankers closing in.


    He let out a low growl, his anger bubbling up as he saw the humans charging at his horde.


    The smell of blood and burning ozone filled the air as the two sides prepared to sh.


    Suddenly, Grashk, Volk''s trusted lieutenant, appeared by his side.


    The hulking Ogre, his skin a mottled mix of dark green and brown, approached respectfully, his voice a deep rumble.


    "Volk," he called out.


    Volk turned his crimson eyes to his friend and nodded in acknowledgment.


    Then, without hesitation, he raised his massive fist into the air, the muscles in his arm bulging with raw power.


    "LOOOKKKTAAAARR!!" he roared, his voice booming across the battlefield like thunder. "OOOOGAAAAAAAARRR!!!"


    His rallying cry shook the earth, and the horde of Ogres responded with a deafening chorus of roars, their battle cries filling the air with primal rage.


    The ground trembled beneath their feet as they charged forward, their massive bodies crashing into the human rankers like a tidal wave of brute force.


    The battlefield erupted into pure chaos.


    The first collision was bone-shattering.


    The sound of steel meeting flesh echoed in the air, followed by the sickening crunch of bones breaking under the weight of massive Ogre fists.


    CRACK!


    A human ranker was flung through the air, his body twisting unnaturally as an Ogre''s hammer-like fist struck his side, sending him flying into a nearby building with a thunderous BOOM!


    But the humans were no pushovers.


    The human rankers, ss A in strength, stood their ground with a terrifyingbination of physical prowess and magical might.


    One of them, a tall woman with dark hair, shed at an Ogre with a glowing de of fire.


    WHOOSH!


    The mes roared as her de sliced through the Ogre''s thick skin, leaving a trail of seared flesh and ckened blood.


    The Ogre howled in pain but retaliated immediately, swinging a massive club at her with enough force to level a small building. SMASH!


    She dodged the blow with nimble precision, her movements almost too fast for the eye to follow.


    She was followed by several other rankers, each wielding a different element¡ªlightning crackled, fire zed, and ice formed around the battlefield as they unleashed their magical attacks.


    Grashk fought alongside Volk, his enormous fists pounding into the ground, sending shockwaves that knocked several humans off their feet.


    However, for every human he knocked down, two more rose to take their ce.


    "RAGGHH!"


    Grashk bellowed, swinging wildly at the human rankers surrounding him.


    His fists connected with one, smashing him into the dirt, but the others retaliated with sharp des and elemental magic.


    Volk, standing at the center of the battle, watched as his horde engaged in a vicious brawl.


    At first, it seemed like they were evenly matched¡ªthe Ogres, with their immense size and raw strength, were holding their own against the human rankers.


    However, Volk''s sharp eyes soon noticed something troubling. His brow furrowed as he squinted at the battlefield.


    Despite their size and power, the Ogres were struggling.


    The human rankers weren''t just strong¡ªthey were organized, strategic, and most importantly, they were using magic.


    Volk snarled as he watched one of hisrgest Ogres fall to the ground, its body wracked with electricity from a lightning spell.


    "So, it''s affecting us now?"


    Another Ogre, caught in a st of freezing ice, was rendered immobile before a group of human rankers swiftly cut it down.


    "Maybe the magic of thest human rankers before them were ignored by us because they are weak, but now¡­" Volk''s mind raced as he tried toprehend the situation.


    The weaker human rankers from earlier had barely affected his horde with their spells. But these new ones¡­ these ss A rankers, their magic was potent.


    It was breaking through the Ogres'' natural resistance, and his horde was paying the price for it.


    Volk gritted his teeth, rage boiling inside him.


    "We''re stronger¡­ but their magic is really affecting us now huh¡­"


    He watched as another of his Ogres, despite being twice the size of his opponent, was brought down by a torrent of fire and ice.


    The magical attacks were making the difference, tipping the scales in the humans'' favor.


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, high above the battlefield, the armored man floated with a smug expression, his arms still arrogantly crossed as he observed the carnage below.


    His lips curled into a mocking smirk as he watched the Ogres struggle against his fellow human rankers.


    "Weak," he thought, his mind filled with disdain for the horde below.


    "These monsters are nothing. Just big, dumb brutes." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "ss A rankers are handling them easily. They don''t even need me down there. It''s almost embarrassing to watch."


    He watched as a group of human rankers, wielding des infused with elemental magic, effortlessly carved through the Ogres'' ranks.


    One by one, the hulking creatures fell, their massive bodies crashing to the ground like felled trees.


    The armored man scoffed, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.


    "Look at them," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.


    "They don''t even know how to handle magic. They just charge in like brainless animals. Pathetic."


    He let out a cruelugh, watching as another Ogre was brought to its knees by a barrage of fireballs.


    "Dumb monsters," he thought, his smirk widening.


    "They''re so predictable. Magic always confuses them. They have no counter for it." He shook his head, his armor glinting in the light as he floated above the chaos. "They think brute strength is enough. It''sughable."


    The armored man''sughter echoed in his own mind as he watched the scene unfold.


    "If this is all they''ve got, we''ll wipe them out in no time." He cast a nce at Volk, who was still fighting with all his might at the center of the battlefield, and snorted dismissively.


    "Even their leader¡­ he''s nothing special. Just another brute who doesn''t understand real power. They just got lucky they faced the weaker rankers earlier. Now, it''s time for our revenge! Humanistic revenge!"


    But then, something caught his eye.


    Volk had turned to face him, his crimson eyes locked onto the armored man.


    Despite the chaos, despite the magic ripping through his horde, Volk''s lips twisted into a savage grin, his gaze burning with challenge.


    The armored man''sughter suddenly died in his throat.


    "What is he looking at? Is he challenging me? Is the leader of the horde overestimating himself?"


    The man sneered.


    "His horde is being thoroughly crushed, yet he still dares to act arrogant. Is this leader out of his mind? It


    seems their intelligence is not high enough; this is not surprising given their brutish nature and their mindless brawling strategy¡­"

 Chapter 155: Sense of Danger

    Volk''s massive body tensed, his muscles coiling like steel cables as he crouched low, ready tounch himself into the air.


    "UWAAARRRGGGG!!!"


    The battlefield seemed to stand still for a heartbeat, the chaos around him momentarily muted by the sheer force building inside him.


    He clenched his fists, veins bulging along his forearms, and then¡ªBOOM!¡ªhe sprang upward with the force of a thousand explosions, leaving a crater where he once stood.


    The shockwave from his leap rippled across the battlefield, knocking both Ogres and human rankers off their feet.


    The sky itself seemed to shudder as Volk shot through the air, his massive form cutting through the wind like a missile.


    The sound of his ascent was deafening, like a sonic boom that tore through the clouds.


    WHOOSH!


    The air around him cracked and hissed as his velocity increased, the force of his jump sending him far above the armored man who hovered arrogantly below.


    Volk soared higher and higher, his massive fists clenched, his mind aze with newfound power.


    He could feel the wind tearing at his flesh, but it didn''t matter.


    He reveled in it, the sensation of absolute freedom, of total dominance over the battlefield below.


    His eyes gleamed as he nced down, far below him, at the chaos of the battle.


    His horde shed violently with the human rankers, the sh of steel and the roars of pain and fury rising like a chorus to meet him.


    A grin spread across his monstrous face.


    Volk had an idea.


    The battle, the destruction¡ªit felt too good.


    There was something special about this fight.


    It was more than just strength¡ªit was something deeper.


    As he hovered in the sky, far above the battlefield, his mind shed back to the Draconic Graveyard, the ce he had utterly decimatedst time.


    It was there, in the smoldering ruins of that forsaken domain, that Volk had discovered a new ability.


    He would use that ability once again!


    Too many people are down below, and they are waiting for him to do what he must do as an invasive monster!


    To murder!


    A system screen suddenly flickers into view in his vision.


    The familiar sound rang in his ears:


    Ding!


    | You have updated one of the new features of the system.


    | The health bar! |


    Volk blinked, his eyes narrowing as he processed the message.


    Health bar? he thought, confused but intrigued.


    Before he could fully grasp what was happening, another message appeared:


    Ding!


    | Updating more features on the new system¡­ |


    Volk''s lips curled into a sneer as he saw it.


    "Updating? What now?"


    He growled to himself, feeling the system''s strange influence working within him. But then, his gaze flicked downward, and he noticed something that made his heart race.


    Below, on the battlefield, the human rankers and the Ogres were now marked¡ªeach with a glowing bar of light above their heads.


    The Ogres and Orcs had green bars, while the humans were marked with red.


    Obviously, it means one thing.


    Green means ally.


    Red means enemy.


    Volk didn''t need to be told twice.


    He understood it instinctively.


    The system had just granted him an ability to see the health of both his allies and his enemies.


    Volk''s grin widened into a full-blown snarl.


    "GRAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"


    Hisughter echoed across the sky, a deep, guttural roar that shook the very air around him.


    "VOOOOLLLKK IS HAPPY!" he bellowed, his voice filled with savage glee. Then, in a sudden shift, hisughter turned darker, more violent.


    "THEREFORE¡­ VOOOOOLLKK IS ANGRRRYYY!!!"


    His crimson eyes gleamed with malice as he clenched his fists, his massive muscles rippling with anticipation.


    "This system update is perfect timing," Volk muttered to himself, his voice a low growl.


    "Now I can see who needs to be destroyed!"


    The battlefield below was now clearly marked, and Volk knew exactly who his targets were.


    Without wasting another second, Volk turned his gaze downward.


    He saw the exact center of the battlefield, where both Ogres and human rankers were locked inbat.


    "Perfect," he thought. His massive form hung in the sky for just a moment longer, and then, with a thunderous roar, he shot downward like a meteor.


    WHOOSH!


    WHOOSH!


    The wind screamed around him as he plummeted back to the earth, his body elerating with each passing second.


    The faster he fell, the stronger his energy became, the very air around him vibrating with the sheer force of his descent.


    He was like a livinget, his body glowing with an intense heat as he hurtled toward the center of the battlefield.


    Below, the armored man couldn''t help but be surprised.


    His eyes widened as he watched Volk''s monstrous form shoot into the sky like a missile.


    "What is he doing?" the man thought, his brow furrowing in confusion.


    He had expected Volk to attack him, to engage in battle mid-air, but instead, the Orc leader hadunched himself far higher than anticipated.


    The man''s heart began to pound in his chest, an unfamiliar sensation creeping through him.


    Something felt wrong.


    "Why do I feel this¡­?" he muttered to himself, his hands tightening into fists. His heartbeat quickened, each thud of his heart growing louder in his ears. "Why¡­?"


    Suddenly, as Volk began his rapid descent back to the battlefield, the man felt it¡ªhis heart leapt in his chest, a violent, involuntary reaction to the sheer force of Volk''s presence.


    His body trembled, his instincts screaming at him that something was terribly, terribly wrong.


    "This¡­ this isn''t right¡­"


    The armored man''s eyes widened in shock as he watched Volk descending like a fieryet, faster and stronger with each passing second.


    THUMP! THUMP! His heart pounded wildly, the sensation overwhelming him.


    "What¡­ what is this?" he gasped, his voice trembling. His body was shaking uncontrobly now, his muscles refusing to obey hismands. "I can''t¡­ stop trembling!"


    Volk wasing down, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.


    "NUCLEAR EEECHO BOOOOOOOOMMB!!!"


    Volk''s voice roared across the battlefield as he drew closer to the ground, his massive fists raised and ready to smash into the earth with devastating force.


    The Ogres and human rankers alike looked up in terror as Volk''s massive form hurtled toward them, his fist aimed directly at the center of the battlefield.


    But just as Volk''s fist was about to collide with the earth¡ªBANG!


    A sharp, stinging pain exploded across Volk''s face.


    His eyes widened in shock as his body was suddenly knocked off course, the force of the blow sending him sprawling forward, not far away from the center of the battlefield.


    Volk''s body hurtled downward, his momentum still raging like aet streaking through the atmosphere.


    The interference had misdirected him just enough to avoid the perfect impact, but the sheer force of his descent still carried through.


    CRACK!


    The ground below shattered violently as his massive fist collided with the earth, sending shockwaves in all directions.


    Thend buckled beneath him, jagged fissures snaking outward as debris exploded into the air.

 Chapter 156: WAAAAAAAAR!

    Volk''s form was forced deep into the earth, his colossal body disappearing into the jagged maw of the ground he had just destroyed.


    For a moment, the battlefield stilled, the chaos of battle pausing as even the human rankers and the Ogres alike nced at the destruction Volk had caused.


    Dust and rubble clouded the air, but beneath the ground, Volk roared with fury, his voice muffled byyers of dirt and rock.


    His body was lodged upside down, his legs dangling awkwardly above him in the cramped space.


    "GRAAAAAHHHH!"


    His primal bellow shook the ground itself as he fought against the restraints of the earth, refusing to be confined by something as trivial as solid rock.


    His massive arms strained, veins bulging across his forearms and shoulders as he wed his way upward.


    Above ground, in the midst of the battle, the earth trembled once more as a giant hand erupted from the ground, breaking through the rubble like a leviathan surfacing from the deep.


    Volk''s massive fingers dug into the shattered ground, pulling himself up with brute force.


    Then, his face, twisted with fury, broke through the earth''s surface, his eyes zing with anger.


    His tusks gleamed menacingly under the clouded sky as he red around the battlefield, looking for his target.


    His gaze locked onto the armored man, who was still standing arrogantly amidst the chaos.


    The man casually kicked aside some Ogres and Orcs, as if they were nothing more than annoyances.


    His nonchnt attitude, the ease with which he dismissed Volk''s horde, ignited a furious ze in Volk''s chest.


    "YOOOUUU!!!"


    Volk roared, his voice a thunderous growl that rippled across the battlefield.


    His hands wed at the ground as he dragged his massive form out of the crater, his entire body shaking with barely contained rage.


    But before Volk could move toward his target, a voice rang out behind him, sharp andmanding.


    "THERE''S THE ORC HORDE LEADER! DESTROY HIM!"


    Volk''s head snapped around just in time to see a barrage of me, glowing hot and fierce, hurtling toward him.


    FWOOM!


    The fire seared through the air, and Volk barely had time to raise his arms in defense before it smashed into him with a burning ferocity.


    The mes licked at his skin, scorching his flesh, but before he could react, more magical elements came crashing down upon him.


    Lightning cracked through the sky, arcs of pure energy tearing through the battlefield to strike Volk''s massive form.


    ZAP!


    The bolts exploded against his skin, sending jolts of pain shooting through his nerves.


    Then came the ice, sharp shards of frozen magic piercing through the air to embed themselves into his flesh.


    CRASH!


    The cold burned just as much as the me, and Volk let out a furious roar of pain.


    The magical onught was endless.


    From all sides, human rankers shoutedmands, their voices blending into a chaotic symphony of war cries and orders.


    "Keep up the pressure! Don''t let him recover!"


    "Focus your attacks! We need to bring him down!"


    "Burn him! Freeze him! Don''t let up!"


    Every ranker seemed to be targeting Volk, throwing their most powerful spells and attacks at him with reckless abandon.


    Fireballs, ice spikes, lightning strikes, earthquakes¡ªevery possible element surged toward him, smashing into his body without pause.


    BOOM! CRACK! FWOOSH!


    The battlefield was a storm of magic, the air thick with the smell of burning flesh and the crackle of energy.


    Volk''s muscles tensed and rippled beneath the assault, his massive frame absorbing blow after blow. But even he, as strong as he was, could feel the sting of these powerful attacks.


    His flesh sizzled, his skin blistering under the endless barrage of magic.


    His vision blurred with the sheer force of the hits, but his eyes remained sharp, burning with fury as he took the punishment.


    Behind him, his horde¡ªthe Ogres and Orcs¡ªwatched in horror as their leader was engulfed in the violent storm of magic.


    "WAECHIIIEEEFF!!!!" they screamed, panic spreading through their ranks.


    The Ogres, usually so fearsome, now seemed lost and afraid.


    They had never seen their leader in such a state, overwhelmed by the relentless attacks of the human rankers.


    Some of the Ogres surged forward, desperate to save Volk from the onught.


    "WARCHIIEEEEFFF!!!! WARCHIIEEEEEFFFFF!!!" they bellowed, their voices thick with desperation.


    But the human rankers stood firm, their attacks focused solely on Volk, even if it meant leaving themselves open to the clubs and axes of the Ogres.


    The human rankers didn''t care if they died. All that mattered was taking down the Orc Horde leader.


    Volk could hear the panicked cries of his horde, but he was too consumed by the magical storm to respond.


    His body was being pelted from every direction, his skin charred, his muscles burning from the relentless attacks.


    He was being buried alive beneath a mountain of magical power, his massive form almostpletely obscured by the swirling vortex of spells.


    Fire, ice, lightning, earth¡ªevery element imaginable crashed into him,yer uponyer of destruction piling on top of him until he was nothing more than a shadow in the midst of the chaos.


    His body was covered from head to toe in the magical assault, and it seemed like there was no end to it.


    But deep within the storm, Volk''s eyes still burned with fury.


    His body, battered and bruised, refused to give in.


    He could feel the pain coursing through him, but it only fueled his rage.


    His massive frame trembled with barely contained fury, his muscles twitching as he struggled against the endless assault.


    ¡­


    Through the cracks in the magical storm, Volk''s face could be seen, his eyes gleaming with pure hatred toward the surrounding rankers who were raining magic spells on him.


    GrrrRrrrRrrrr¡­


    His mouth twisted into a snarl, his teeth bared in fury as he red at his enemies.


    The human rankers thought they could bury him, that they could drown him in their magic, making him frustrated.


    Some of them even stopped targeting him, as they were now celebrating, thinking that they had already gotten rid of him.


    Volk hated it!


    HOW DARE YOU STOP ATTACKING!?


    DO YOU THINK I, VOLK, THE CHIEFTAIN, CAN BE EASILY KILLED!?


    CAN I BE EASILY BEATEN!?


    VOLK WAS NOT EASILY BEATEN!


    VOLK CANNOT BE BEATEN THAT EASILY!


    From within the storm, Volk''s voice erupted like a volcano, a primal roar that tore through the air with the force of an earthquake.


    "VOOOOOOLLLKKK IIIIIISSSS," he mumbled with a destructive growl, "THE STRONGEEEEEEESSST!!!" he roared!

 Chapter 157: Unkillable Warchief

    On the other hand, the armored man stood motionless, his towering figure a silent sentinel amidst the chaos.


    Beneath his gleaming helmet, his face was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged and uneven.


    Each exhale was heavy, as if the very air itself resisted entering his lungs.


    His chest heaved under the armor, his heart pounding so fiercely that it felt like it might burst from his ribcage.


    Thump-thump. Thump-thump.


    His vision blurred for a moment, and the relentless drumming of his pulse filled his ears, drowning out the sounds of battle around him.


    His heart, racing uncontrobly, seemed to dictate his every thought.


    But then, without warning, when his fist connected with Volk, as he sent the Orc horde leader crashing violently into the ground, something shifted.


    His heart slowed. A strange calm washed over him.


    The beat, once frantic and erratic, now became measured, steady.


    He felt the panic drain from his body.


    Thump... thump... thump¡­


    The armored man didn''t understand why, but at that moment, his instincts had screamed at him.


    His entire body had trembled with the overwhelming sense of danger.


    His mind had shed with the thought:


    If Volk touched the ground... What will happen? He didn''t know but something inside was telling him it would be the end of everything.


    Now, he stood still, watching the battlefield as human rankers cast wave after wave of powerful magic, burying Volk in an ocean of elemental destruction.


    The air crackled with energy, and mes danced across the shattered earth where Volk had fallen.


    The armored man exhaled deeply.


    "It''s over," he muttered under his breath, though his voice trembled slightly.


    Around him, the other rankers began to rx as well.


    Their shoulders sagged with relief, and many let out weary chuckles or sighed loudly.


    They had poured everything into that assault, and seeing the Orc horde leader crushed beneath theirbined power seemed to signal the end.


    The only thing they need to deal with were the others, they are sure that without the head, these monsters wouldn''t function well.


    So¡­ The armored man, too, let his tense muscles loosen.


    His chest, which had been tight with fear moments ago, expanded freely now.


    He was almost beginning to enjoy the moment of victory when suddenly¡ª


    KABOOM!


    The ground beneath their feet exploded outward.


    Stone and debris shot into the air like shrapnel, and from within the swirling dust, a colossal figure began to emerge.


    Volk''s roar echoed through the battlefield, a primal, furious bellow that shook the bones of every human ranker within earshot.


    "GRROOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRR!!!"


    Volk had doubled in size.


    His already massive frame now loomed over them, a mountain of flesh and rage.


    His muscles bulged, thick cords of sinew rippling beneath his dark green skin.


    His veins pulsed like rivers of moltenva, and his entire body seemed to exude a terrifying aura of raw power.


    His eyes, once just gleaming with fury, now zed with an almost supernatural glow, burning like twin suns of anger.


    His tusks jutted out further, his mouth twisted into a snarl of unimaginable rage.


    The armored man froze, his eyes widening in terror.


    Every fiber of his being screamed at him to move, to run, but his body refused to obey.


    Volk stood before him, a living nightmare.


    The Orc horde leader''s fists were clenched, veins bulging as he raised them high above his head.


    Towering, he cast an enormous shadow over the battlefield, his entire form radiating an overwhelming sense of doom.


    Around them, the Ogres and Orcs saw their leader rise, and immediately they erupted into cheers.


    "WAAaAAARCHIIEEFFFF!"


    "WAAaAAARCHIIEEFFFF!"


    "WAAaAAARCHIIEEFFFF!"


    They chanted his status in their ranks with a reckless abandon, and their voices were merging into a single, thunderous roar of triumph.


    The once panicked and disheartened horde had found renewed strength.


    Their leader was not only alive but more powerful than before.


    "VOOOOLLLKKK!!!" A hulking Ogre raised his massive club into the air, tears streaming down his rough face. "Warchief wouldn''t fall easily! The invincible leader! We knew he would never fall!"


    Another Orc, battered and bloodied, threw his hands into the air and screamed, "Volk! Warchief has returned! We will destroy them all!"


    The horde surged forward, their morale skyrocketing as they watched their leader stand defiant in the center of the battlefield.


    Their chants grew louder, almost deafening.


    "WAAaAAARCHIIEEFFFF!"


    "WAAaAAARCHIIEEFFFF!"


    "WAAaAAARCHIIEEFFFF!"


    It was a war cry, a promise of destruction and death to their enemies.


    They swung their weapons with renewed vigor, crashing into the human rankers like an unstoppable wave of violence.


    The humans, on the other hand, were ovee with a crippling sense of dread.


    "What is that¡­?!" one of the human rankers stammered, his voice shaking.


    "He''s even bigger now! How are we supposed to fight that?!"


    "Magic! Keep hitting him with magic!" someone yelled, but the fear in their voice betrayed theirck of confidence.


    No one had expected this.


    They thought they had buried the orc horde leader under theirbined might, but now he stood, more monstrous than ever, and their magic seemed pathetically small inparison.


    The armored man stood frozen, his mind racing as the cheers of the Ogres and the horrified murmurs of the human rankers echoed in his ears. And then, without warning, his thoughts drifted back.


    Why am I here? he wondered.


    How did I get to this point?


    Suddenly, memories surged through his mind, taking him back to when he was just a young man, an E-rank ranker.


    Back then, he was nothing¡ªjust a nameless face in a sea of hopefuls, trying to survive the dangerous world of dungeons and monsters.


    He remembered the first time he fought against a low-level beast, his hands trembling as he swung his sword.


    He was weak, scared, but he had survived, barely.


    Then came D-rank, where he began to understand the life of a ranker.


    He learned discipline, control, and started making a name for himself.


    He wasn''t powerful yet, but he had grit, and that counted for something.


    The fame was still out of reach, but his rise in the ranks began to catch people''s attention.


    People started to notice his growth.


    C-rank brought with it recognition. He could feel the shift, not just in his power but in how others treated him.


    Missions became harder, the monsters more dangerous, but so did his resolve.


    He was no longer that trembling kid with the sword.


    He was strong, and with that strength came the first taste of fame.


    He remembered the first time someone asked for his autograph, the feeling of pride swelling in his chest.


    B-rank was where everything changed.


    It wasn''t just about surviving anymore; it was about winning.


    He was chosen for high-profile missions, and his name began to spread beyond just a handful of rankers.


    He fought inrger battles, proving his worth time and time again. And when he finally reached A-rank, he felt invincible.


    People hailed him as a hero.


    He had saved cities, defeated monstrous foes, and with every victory, the world seemed to watch him more closely.


    Then came S-rank¡ªthe pinnacle.


    He remembered the day he was promoted, the way the world seemed to shift around him.


    Suddenly, he wasn''t just a hero.


    He was the hero.


    His name was whispered with awe, his face stered on every magazine and news broadcast.


    People called him legendary, but in that moment, he realized something crucial¡ªthere was always something more terrifying on the horizon.


    Why did I think of this now?


    He blinked,ing back to the present.


    The battlefield was still around him, the magic, the blood, the destruction.


    Why... did I dream of my entire life just now?


    His heart began to race again, his hands trembling beneath his armor.


    He looked up, his eyes widening as his mind snapped back into focus.


    There, towering above him, was Volk.


    The Orc horde leader had both fists raised high, ready to bring them down that seemed to have enough force to shatter the earth.

 Chapter 158: SSS ranked monster

    High above the chaotic battlefield, at the rooftop of a distant building where Bong Me-Eon and Song Woo-Ji stood watch, a sudden surge of energy crackled in the air.


    A portal shimmered into existence, swirling with hues of violet and silver, its edges rippling like water disturbed by a gentle breeze.


    From within, a figure emerged¡ªa woman who carried herself with a presence thatmanded attention.


    She appeared to be in her mid-forties, yet age had only added to her fierce beauty.


    Her dark hair was swept back in a high ponytail, streaked with hints of silver that framed her sharp, angr face.


    Her eyes were a piercing shade of green, bright and intelligent, keen as des.


    Fine lines traced the corners of her mouth and eyes, but they did nothing to dull her severe expression; if anything, they gave her an edge of authority and life-worn wisdom.


    Her posture was straight, her shoulders back, projecting an air of unshakable confidence.


    She wore a fittedbat suit of muted ck, adorned with silver ents that gleamed under the light, emphasizing her role not only as a ranker but as one of the most elite warriors of her world.


    With a nce, she took in Bong Me-Eon and Song Woo-Ji, her gaze resting for a beat longer on the young disciple, who stared far off, his attention fixated on the raging battle beyond.


    She raised an eyebrow, lips pursed in mild annoyance as she asked, "Why have I been summoned? You know my time is precious."


    Bong Me-Eon inclined her head respectfully, but the woman''s sharp gaze caught the weariness beneath her eyes.


    Bong Me-Eon nced at Song Woo-Ji, then answered, "My disciple suggested calling for top-tier reinforcements. He''s¡­ convinced that we''ll need every ounce of power we can muster for this fight."


    The woman''s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Song Woo-Ji.


    The kid didn''t say a word, his attention riveted on Volk in the distance. She let out a sigh, half a sneer pulling at her lips.


    "This is the famous new disciple of my disciple?"


    Her voice held an edge of disbelief mixed with disdain, as if he were hardly worth her notice.


    She turned, eyes settling on the battlefield. It was a scene of carnage, yet the sh between the armored man and Volk held her interest.


    Volk''s ferocity was undeniable, and he had yet to be fully defeated, even by an S-ss opponent.


    She crossed her arms, watching with faint interest as Volk rose higher into the sky. But as the Orc leader rocketed back toward the ground, the armored man met him mid-descent, driving his fist into Volk''s face and sending him hurtling into the earth.


    The impact sent a shockwave across thendscape.


    The middle-aged woman rolled her eyes. "So I''m here for¡­ this?" She sighed, folding her arms and ncing to the side, clearly impatient. "Honestly, why did you think I was needed? That man''s handling himself just fine, and besides, I had other things to do."


    She tapped her fingers thoughtfully, her tone almost exasperated as she started listing off her priorities.


    "I was in the middle of shopping. The good boutique only opens once a month, and I need that outfit if I''m going to be forced into another one of those high-society functions."


    She sniffed, her lips curving downward in distaste at the thought.


    "Then there''s the bakery down on Fifth¡ªI swear they have the best matcha croissants in town, and they only make a limited batch each day. Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to snag one before they''re all gone?"


    Her list went on, her tone more annoyed with each item she named.


    "And don''t get me started on the spa appointment I had lined up. Those specialists are nearly impossible to book. There''s that new jade treatment I''ve been dying to try for weeks. And then¡ª"


    She let out an exaggerated sigh, tossing a bored nce at the ongoing battle as if it were a minor inconvenience.


    She shook her head dismissively, casting a final withering look at Bong Me-Eon. "Really, why am I here? It looks like they''re holding their own. I think I should just return and finish my day."


    But as she turned away, a quiet voice broke through her musing. Song Woo-Ji, who had remained silent all this time, spoke in a low, trembling tone.


    "We need to leave." The fear in his voice cut through the air like a knife.


    The woman froze, her confident expression faltering as she nced back at him.


    Bong Me-Eon stared at her disciple in surprise, eyes widening at the stark terror in his face.


    Song Woo-Ji''s voice was unsteady as he continued, staring out at the horde and the ominous figure of Volk.


    "If we don''t leave¡­ we''re all going to die."


    His words were barely a whisper, yet they echoed with certainty.


    The middle-aged woman frowned, still skeptical.


    Her gaze swept over the battlefield, where A-ss rankers rained down magic upon the horde, their power crackling across the skies and pounding Volk''s army of Ogres and Orcs into the dirt.


    The sheer force seemed enough to annihte anything in its path.


    She could see no reason why they wouldn''t emerge victorious, especially with so many powerful rankers united in their cause.


    The ranks of the Orcs and Ogres were dwindling, their forces shattered by the relentless onught of magic.


    And yet¡­ something gnawed at her, a growing unease that lingered even as she watched the scene unfold. Then she saw it.


    Far below, Volk''s hand lifted, fingers curling into a tight, unyielding fist.


    And with a terrifying speed, his massive arm shot upward, his furious eyes locking onto the armored man as his fist hurtled toward him with a force that could shatter mountains.


    The middle-aged woman''s face paled, shock and disbelief crossing her features.


    The middle-aged woman''s eyes widened in horror, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Did that Orc horde leader just be¡­ an SSS-ss monster? Comparable to an SSS-ss ranker like¡­ me? In an instant?"


    Her words hung in the air,ced with disbelief and rm, her voice echoing slightly amidst the distant roar of battle.


    Bong Me-Eon and Song Woo-Ji stood beside her, transfixed, faces pale as they too felt the terrifying shift in Volk''s power.


    It was like a dark storm swelling in the air, crushing down on everyone present with a presence so intense it felt like the ground itself might buckle beneath it.


    Just then, Volk''s fist came crashing down, aimed at the armored man who barely evaded, the ground exploding where Volk''s fist met earth.


    KABOOM!


    A violent shockwave ripped through the battlefield, its impact cascading outward like a massive tidal wave.


    The sheer force was so immense it rolled through the field, sending ss A rankers and weaker Orcs alike flying back like leaves in a storm.


    The wave expanded outward, spreading relentlessly, the tremors climbing the distant buildings, and nearly reaching where Bong Me-Eon, Song Woo-Ji, and the middle-aged woman watched from afar.


    They had never thought that it would turn out this way, they had never thought than a simple Orc would be Ogre, and an Ogre that is aparable to a peak A rank would jump instantly into bing an SSS rank monster!

 Chapter 159: NUCLEAR ECHO BOMB

    The armored man wasn''t about to wait to see what Volk would do next.


    He clenched his teeth, fear spiking as he activated every boost his futuristic armor could muster.


    With a st, heunched himself into the air, speeding away with all the power his suit allowed.


    His mind raced as fast as his body, calcting every possibility of survival, every counterattack. But no n seemed feasible.


    This wasn''t the same monster horde leader he''d encountered moments before; now, the Ogre was now something beyond reason.


    Meanwhile, Volk simply stood there, towering over the battlefield, his eyes zing with a fierce, unyielding confidence as he watched the armored man flee.


    Volk''s hulking form radiated power, his body almost thrumming with the raw energy that pulsed around him.


    The ground where he had struck still smoldered, a crater spreading wider and deeper with each passing second, cracks snaking outward.


    From the rooftop, Song Woo-Ji''s gaze remained locked on Volk, his face ashen.


    There was something hauntingly familiar about this overwhelming presence, something that dug into his soul with a primal terror he couldn''t name.


    It was as if some shadow from a hollow-forgotten earlier memory had wed its way back, whispering dread into every corner of his mind.


    Back on the battlefield, where Volk had smashed the ground, the earth began to pulse, spreading in a sandy brown, circr shockwaves.


    At first, they were small and faint, noticeable only to those nearby. But then another wave followed, wider and faster.


    Another came, growingrger and stronger each time.


    The pulses rippled outwards, each one more powerful than thest, as if the very ground itself were breathing in time with Volk''s fury.


    The armored man, speeding across thendscape like a desperateet, nced back over his shoulder, a chill settling into his bones as he took in the scene.


    He hadn''t expected this.


    Never could he have imagined that the monster horde leader would ascend to an SSS-ss entity in mere seconds.


    Now, there was only one option left¡ªrun, and pray it was enough.


    Yet the further he ran, the more a cold dread crept into the back of his spine.


    At first, it was subtle, a faint shiver across his skin. But with each stride, it deepened, crawling up his spine like ice.


    His instincts screamed at him to flee faster, yet no matter how far he pushed himself, the chill only grew, gnawing at his core, overwhelming his senses.


    Finally, just as the fear grew unbearable, he felt it¡ªa shockwave.


    KABOOM!


    The st hit him like a wall, stopping him dead in his tracks, his armor rattling with the force.


    He stumbled, thrown off bnce as the ground beneath him trembled from the impact.


    Soon, a trail of blood could be seen where his bodyy.


    ¡­


    Back on the field, the horde of Orcs and Ogres had ceased their assault.


    The strange energy radiating from Volk''s power resonated through them like a distant, low hum, like an unsettling presence that made even the most battle-hardened warriors hesitate.


    Their gaze turned to Volk, then to the humans before them, a strange silence settling between the two sides.


    The human rankers, too, faltered, their attacks waning as they felt the wrongness in the air.


    It was as if they were all holding their breath, waiting, sensing that something dreadful was about to unfold.


    And then, the horror began. Without warning, one of the human rankers shuddered, their body trembling violently.


    The next second, a sickening pop resounded, and the ranker''s body erupted into a bloody spray, chunks of flesh and bone scattering across the battlefield.


    Another followed, then another.


    Each burst was met with screams as human rankers exploded one by one, like fragile vessels shattering under unbearable pressure.


    "HUH-"


    "WHAT IS GOI-


    "NOOOO-"


    Blood rained across the field, painting the ground in a crimson horror, the scene devolving into a grotesque disy of death and carnage.


    The remaining humans, paralyzed with fear, could do nothing but watch as theirrades were torn apart by the unseen force.


    Volk''s allies¡ªthe Orcs and Ogres¡ªstared, both horrified and awe-struck.


    The disy of power was beyond anything they had ever witnessed, a level of cruelty that even they, in all their savagery, had never imagined.


    As the grisly spectacle of rupturing human rankers drew to an end, silence gripped the battlefield.


    Every Orc and Ogre turned their eyes toward Volk, standing like a dark titan, towering over the bloody chaos.


    For a moment, they just stared, taking in the absolute destruction he had wrought. And then, as ifpelled by some primal impulse, Volk mmed his chest¡ªonce, twice, and again, his fists pounding like war drums echoing across the ravaged field.


    "I AM VOLK! I AM THE WARCHIEF!"


    His voice was like a thunderp, like a force that violently reverberated through the very bones of his horde.


    The Orcs and Ogres stood spellbound, looking at him as if they had seen a ghost!


    A holy ghost!


    For them, power is everything!


    This destructive power, this capability, this cruelty!


    This is the power of the horde!


    No, not just any horde, their horde!


    Soon, a chant began to rise from among them, slowly at first, then growing louder, until it was a fevered roar that drowned out every other sound.


    "WARCHIEF VOLK! WARCHIEF VOLK! WARCHIEF VOLK!"


    As the chant grew to a deafening crescendo, two towering figures pushed through the mass of cheering Orcs and Ogres. Grashk and Grok''Thar¡ªmassive even among their kind, their muscled forms enhanced by the raw power of the Grum-gar transformation¡ªcame to a halt before Volk, their faces filled with awe and reverence.


    "VOLK, WARCHIEF," Grashk rumbled, bowing slightly, his voice reverberating with respect. "HOW DO YOU SO STRONG? WHAT SHAMANISTIC ABILITY THAT IS?"


    Grok''Thar echoed his words, his own massive frame leaning forward, eyes wide with anticipation, as if awaiting a sacred truth.


    Volk''s mouth twisted into a wide grin, clearly pleased by their admiration.


    Of course!


    Who wouldn''t!?


    He is after all, Volk!


    Their Warchief!


    He puffed up his massive chest like a thunder drum, ncing down at his two loyal warriors, his voice booming with pride.


    "IT''S CALLED NUCLEAR ECHO BOMB, VOLK''S NEW SECRET WEAPON!"


    He pounded his chest again, each thud resounding like thunder as he basked in the glory of his newfound power.


    But then, a shadow darkened the sky above them, and Volk''s attention shifted upward.


    A massive, bone-white figure was descending from the heavens¡ªa Skeletal Bone Dragon, its ghastly wings spread wide, casting an eerie, skeletal silhouette against the cloudy sky.


    Volk felt this was very familiar, it was simr to the bone dragon of the other system user he had killed!


    What''s it doing here?


    There was no hesitation, no slowing as it hurtled downward, as though it were ready to smash through earth itself.


    With a massive KABOOM! the Skeletal Bone Dragon crashed into the ground, scattering Orcs and Ogres like mere pebbles.


    Dust and debris exploded in all directions, blinding everyone in the immediate vicinity.


    Volk shielded his face with one arm, ring through the settling dust at the creature''s imposing figure as it loomed before him.


    Suddenly, he sensed where it came from, and when he turned his head towards certain building, his eyes widened.

 Chapter 160: Needed to be stopped

    Meanwhile, on the rooftop far from the battlefield, Song Woo-Ji''s breath came in harsh gasps, his entire body trembling, drenched in cold sweat.


    It had taken every ounce of his strength to keep his gaze locked on Volk''s monstrous form from afar, the terrible power he''d witnessed making his stomach twist with dread.


    Finally catching his breath, he looked at his master with pleading eyes. "Master, we need to go. Let''s leave now. I made that monster upied for the moment¡­ let''s use this chance to escape."


    But his words only met with the stubborn, unyielding stare of the middle-aged woman, her face sharp and calcting as she kept her focus trained on Volk''s distant silhouette.


    She gave her head a slight shake. "No, Song Woo-Ji. We cannot leave this battlefield just yet."


    Her tone was firm, carrying a weight of experience that was impossible to question.


    "I saw the true nature of the monster''s attack¡­ the more targets it hits, the more powerful it bes."


    Her voice grew grave, her gaze darkening as she continued, "And now that he''s achieved SSS-ss status¡­ if we don''t stop him here, he''ll tear through everything. Imagine himing down on a city¡ªaet of destruction hitting a crowd of people.


    "It would only amplify his power, multiplying the devastation tenfold. Even if all of SSS rankers in this world came together, all of us would be turned to this if attacked us while we are among the majority¡­"


    The thought seemed to momentarily stun both Bong Me-Eon and Song Woo-Ji, each of them picturing the unimaginable carnage monster horde leader could unleash if he reached civilian areas.


    She clenched her fists, her expression hardening. "We have to make our stand here, even it mean sacrificing my life."


    Then, turning to Song Woo-Ji, she spoke with amanding resolve.


    "You, however, must leave."


    She nodded at Bong Me-Eon, who was already weaving a spell, forming a portal that shimmered with a swirling, blue energy.


    The middle-aged woman continued, "Go, Song Woo-Ji. Report what you''ve seen to the other SSS-ss rankers. They need to know exactly what we''re dealing with."


    Bong Me-Eon''s face softened, yet his tone left no room for argument. "Go, disciple. Grandmaster has opened the portal for you. This information is crucial."


    Song Woo-Ji opened his mouth, almost as if to protest, but the words died on his lips as he met their resolute stares.


    The moment was surreal.


    His heart thundered in his chest, a feeling of foreboding swelling within him as he took a shaky step backward, his gaze lingering on his master and grandmaster.


    And then, in a sh of blue light, they were gone, disappearing into the chaos, leaving him staring in stunned silence at the empty space where they had stood.


    ¡­


    As they pressed forward across the vast, blood-soaked battlefield, the middle-aged woman moved with swift, measured steps, her every move filled with a sense of practiced control.


    Her sharp eyes swept across the battlefield, analyzing thendscape, assessing the scattered ranks of Orcs and Ogres that dotted the terrain.


    The battlefield was thick with the scent of blood and ash, a haze of smoke rising from scorched earth where remnants of fallen warriorsy silent.


    Bong Me-Eon kept close at her side, his eyes darting warily from one dark figure to the next.


    "Alright, we need a clear n," she muttered, voice calm but tense as her eyes stayed focused on the distant shape of Volk towering over the remnants of the battlefield.


    "That monster horde leader... we''ll need to ount for his strength, speed, and that Echo Bomb ability of his. One wrong step, and we''ll be among the fallen. But I have three ways to approach this¡­"


    "Three approaches?" Bong Me-Eon suggested, his gaze sharp as he waited for her thoughts. "We can devise three strategies and test his responses as we go."


    The middle-aged woman gave a curt nod. "Yes. I have three approaches in mind, though each one has its risks." She took a steadying breath, mind already working through the calctions.


    "First," she began, "we focus on containment. We surround Volk and his elite warriors, iste him from the main horde, and force him into a smaller battlefield. This minimizes the damage his Echo Bomb can inflict on others."


    Her fingers tightened into a fist as she spoke. "But there''s a risk: if he breaks through our perimeter before we''re ready, he could unleash chaos within our own ranks."


    Bong Me-Eon nodded thoughtfully. "We''d need an advanced barrier spell, somethingrge and flexible enough to encircle him but strong enough to absorb any st."


    She pursed her lips. "Exactly. It would drain an immense amount of mana, but if we manage it right, it might give us the edge we need to keep his power focused in one direction, not on the masses."


    She paused, considering. "Second approach: We split the horde''s attention. If we divide his forces, sending a small group of elite rankers to strike key points within the Orc and Ogre lines, we might be able to weaken their morale. If his warriors are distracted and scattered, the monster horde leader himself might be vulnerable."


    Bong Me-Eon''s brow furrowed as he considered this. "So a feint? Draw him out while we divide his focus?"


    She nodded, a faint smile appearing. "Exactly. It would take precision, careful coordination, but if the monster horde leader is anything like other leaders of his kind, he''ll want to personally crush anyone who dares disrupt his ranks."


    Her voice hardened. "That way, we pull him into a position where his attacks be predictable, and we cut down his range of destruction."


    After a thoughtful pause, Bong Me-Eon chimed in. "What about a direct assault, a high-powered, concentrated st at his exact location?"


    The middle-aged woman''s eyes gleamed, her lips tightening with grim resolve.


    "That''s our third approach." She folded her arms, her expression like stone.


    "Arge-scale magical attack, something that would break his defenses and perhaps even slow him down. But here''s the challenge: it will require perfect timing and an intense, concentrated amount of magic.


    "One miscalction, and the spell could lose effectiveness, or worse, it could backfire and send chaos into our own forces."


    Bong Me-Eon nodded slowly, absorbing her words. "So the idea is to force him into one position with the first two approaches, and then strike with the final blow?"


    "Exactly," she replied, her voice colder than the winds blowing across the battlefield. "We''ll need to work quickly and without hesitation. Containment, distraction, and finally¡­ total annihtion."


    They traveled in tense silence for a moment, each processing theplexity of the tactics they were about to implement.


    Around them, the battlefield stretched wide, a vast expanse filled with the remnants of prior battles, the air thick with the lingering scent of smoke and metal.


    The distant cries of Orcs and Ogres filled the air, along with the faint roars of the lingering human rankers desperately holding their ground.


    In this grim scene, Volk''s towering figure loomed ahead, a dark shape radiating menace and raw power.


    "Bong Me-Eon," she murmured, eyes narrowing as she began to gather mana, the air around her sparking with faint traces of energy. "Prepare therge-scale spell for when we''re ready. I''ll take care of the horde leader if you can manage the main force."


    Bong Me-Eon nodded, his expression steady, though his eyes were alight with the spark of battle. "Understood, Grandmaster." His hands moved, tracing the intricate patterns of spell-casting, his face set with a steely resolve.


    But just then, Volk''s hulking form shifted, his head turning slowly, as if he could sense their presence.


    In an instant, his eyes zeroed in on them across the battlefield.


    The middle-aged woman''s expression turned grim. "He sensed us," she muttered. Her hand flexed, a surge of magical ranker power pooling at her fingertips.


    Volk''s enormous frame began to approach, his strides purposeful and deliberate, cutting through the battlefield like a juggernaut.


    The ground trembled beneath each step he took, and the Orcs and Ogres quickly fell back to make way, eyes widening in awe as they watched their Warchief charge.


    For what seemed an eternity, Volk bore down on them, and the woman and Bong Me-Eon prepared themselves, drawing in deep breaths, readying their attacks as his monstrous figure approached.


    Her mind raced, her senses heightened as she readied herself to strike with everything she had.


    Every n, every strategy, was measured, calcted to take him down at the first moment he was close enough to hit.


    But then, when Volk was just strides away, towering over them with an aura that made the very air seem to hum with energy, he¡­ swept past them, and they noticed that his eyes were fixed on something¡ªor someone¡ªelse.


    They stood frozen, blinking in disbelief as he passed by, seemingly oblivious to their presence, his massive form cutting through the battlefield like a storm with a purpose they hadn''t anticipated.


    In a booming voice that echoed across the field, Volk''s words cut through the mor of the battlefield: "SYSTEM USER, HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!"

 Chapter 161: Running game

    As Volk thundered past them, the tremors from his enormous steps echoed in Bong Me-Eon and the middle-aged woman''s bones.


    They exchanged a quick, stunned look, confusion etched into their faces.


    His words hung in the air and pang in their heads: "SYSTEM USER, HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!"


    The middle-aged woman''s sharp gaze narrowed, suspicion ring.


    "System user?" she muttered, her voice filled with a steely edge.


    Bong Me-Eon''s mind raced, her thoughts darting back to the earlier said that there was a sh between Song Woo-Ji and Volk.


    Her memory snapped to the Death Ball, the moment of eerie, unnatural energy that had surged through the battlefield.


    Was Song Woo-Ji somehow tied to this mystery?


    Did this monster horde leader was responsible of making Song Woo-Ji be in a state of temporary date?


    But the questions were quickly buried beneath her instincts.


    Whatever was driving Volk, he was charging ahead, deeper into the battlefield, ignoring them.


    Bong Me-Eon gritted her teeth, a surge of relief mixing with the sharp edge of their strategy now unfolding¡ªno need to iste Volk if he was already distracted.


    Her master, however, was one step ahead.


    Without a moment''s pause, the middle-aged woman had already turned, her keen eyes fixed on Volk''s hulking frame, retreating into the smoke.


    Determination sparked in her eyes as she began to chant, her words steeped in ancient, dark energy that seemed to seep into the very fabric of the battlefield around them.


    "Kraal''a Morbis!"


    Her voice carried through the air, the spell woven with the heavy weight of necromancy.


    As her words resonated, a jagged crack splintered the ground around her, dark energy swirling from the depths.


    From the earth, skeletal hands burst forth¡ªan army of bony, wed fingers that lunged toward Volk.


    The skeletal ws reached up, trying totch onto his legs, their bones creaking as they stretched.


    Volk slowed, gritting his teeth as he stomped down, crushing the bony limbs beneath his feet with a sound like shattering ss.


    Yet the woman''s spell was relentless.


    "Vra''khael Tenevos!"


    The second incantation shot through the air like a whip.


    From her outstretched hand, shadows condensed into a spear of swirling darkness, sharp as an obsidian de, andunched toward Volk.


    It struck his side, the impact rippling through his armor-like skin and embedding with an eerie, sickening hiss.


    A pulse of necrotic energy spread through his flesh, tendrils of darkness wing at his essence, but he growled, ripping the spear free and tossing it to the side.


    His steps only faltered briefly before he pressed forward again, an angry snarl twisting his features.


    The woman''s expression hardened, her voice deepening as she chanted again.


    "Mael''mirga Phark!"


    At hermand, a massive wave of deathly energy rolled forward, thick and fog-like, sweeping across the ground.


    The fog carried with it the essence of decay,pping at Volk''s form, its sickly energy grasping at him like thousands of ghostly tendrils.


    Volk''s steps grew heavier, his vision blurred for a moment as the fog wrapped around his legs and reached up toward his chest, dragging at him, slowing him.


    However, with a furious roar, he dispelled the fog, his massive arms tearing through the deathly haze like a storm breaking through clouds.


    Unfazed, she continued.


    "Mortegha Nagh''mor!"


    This time, skeletal hounds, born of shadows and bone, erupted from the ground.


    Their hollow eyes glowed with an unearthly green light as they snarled, baring rows of jagged fangs as they circled Volk.


    They darted toward him, gnashing at his heels, their bites leaving trails of decay along his skin.


    Volk snarled, mming his fists down on the hounds, each hit causing bones to shatter and scatter across the ground, yet more hounds emerged from the ground, lunging at him in a relentless assault.


    Each strike he made scattered their forms, but the relentless onught slowed him, momentarily halting his advance.


    And finally, her voice crescendoed with a final, powerful spell.


    "Drak''vaul Terenos!"


    With her words, the very earth trembled, and then, a colossal skeletal dragon¡ªan echo of death itself¡ªrose from the ground behind her.


    Its hollow eyes glinted with a sinister glow as it let out a deep, resonant roar that shook the battlefield.


    With a single, powerful lunge, the skeletal dragon swept forward, mming into Volk with a force that rattled the earth.


    The impact was tremendous, Volk staggering back under the force of the creature''s assault, his fistsing up to defend himself as the dragon''s ws raked against his chest and neck.


    For a few heart-stopping seconds, it appeared the dragon might drive him back, might force him down.


    But Volk, filled with a fury that seemed to radiate from his very core, roared andshed out with his massive fists, breaking through the dragon''s bony form with sheer, brutal power.


    Bones shattered, splintering and scattering, and the dragon''s form crumbled into dust under his strength.


    The attacks had halted him for moments, seconds at best, but they were enough to earn the middle-aged woman and Bong Me-Eon a few precious breaths.


    But then Volk turned, his gaze alight with a fiery rage, his eyes zeroing in on them.


    His face twisted with fury, a growl rumbling from deep within his chest as he raised a massive fist in their direction.


    "YOU DARE DISTRACT VOOOLK?!" he thundered, his voice a deafening roar that seemed to echo across the battlefield, reverberating in their bones.


    His stance radiated menace, his muscles tense and coiled as he prepared to charge, his rage igniting his every move.


    ¡­


    Volk''s eyes glinted with a savage light as he cast a disdainful nce at Bong Me-Eon and the middle-aged woman.


    His massive hand reached toward them, fingers stretching like talons as his shadow loomed over Bong Me-Eon.


    She froze for a split second, feeling the raw heat and menace of his enormous form closing in. But in that same heartbeat, the middle-aged woman''s hands were already weaving through the air, her voice a sharpmand:


    "Drak''tar Vel''thora!"


    A wave of spectral chains erupted from the ground, snapping and coiling around Volk''s arm like the tendrils of some ghastly creature.


    They anchored into his thick skin, wing at his flesh, and tugged him back, causing him to snarl in frustration.


    The chains held just long enough for Bong Me-Eon to snap back to her senses and dart away, narrowly escaping the crushing grasp that would''ve shattered her bones.


    Volk sneered, wrenching his arm free with a mighty heave that scattered the chains like wisps of smoke.


    His lip curled into a smirk, with the corner of his mouth twitching with something between amusement and contempt as he muttered, his voice a low rumble:


    "WEAKLINGS... VOLK SHOULDN''T WASTE TIME WEAKLINGS¡­ TWO OF THEM WON''T BE A THREAT IN THE FUTURE¡­ UNLIKE SYSTEM USER¡­"


    His gravelly tone faded, as if he couldn''t even spare the energy to finish his thought, and his gaze turned, locking onto a distant figure: Song Woo-Ji.


    A dark smile twisted across Volk''s face as he sized up his next target, his eyes narrowing with the thrill of the hunt.


    His massive body tensed, like a coiled spring, and then he burst forward in a ferocious sprint, each stride sending shockwaves through the ground.


    Boulders shattered under his weight as he tore across the battlefield, his intent singr, his gaze fixed on Song Woo-Ji.


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