Strongest Radioactive System

Volk sighed, it seems he needed to explain, running a hand over the gleaming surface of his gauntlet.

He hadn't expected to become a teacher, but it was clear these wild Orcs were as uninformed as they were defiant.

"Humans," he began, his voice steady, "are creatures like us. Flesh and blood. But they're smaller, weaker. They don't have our strength or endurance."

The group nodded, their expressions ranging from mild interest to boredom.

"But what they lack in physical strength," Volk continued, his tone darkening, "they make up for with numbers, weapons, and cunning. They build massive armies, wear shining metal armor to protect themselves, and use tools that can pierce even the toughest hide. They are relentless."

The young dagger-wielder's brow furrowed. "Tools? Like this?" He held up his weapon.

"Not like that," Volk replied, shaking his head. "Their weapons are long-range. They can strike you down from a distance before you even get close. Arrows, bolts, fire… things that explode."

This caught their attention. The braided female straightened, her eyes narrowing further. "Fire? Explosions?"

"Yes," Volk said grimly. "And their leaders are clever. They use tactics, strategy. They'll encircle you, cut off your escape, and grind you down until you have no choice but to die or surrender."

The group stared at him for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. But then the braided female's expression shifted, her lips curling into a sneer. "So… they're cowards."

The mace-wielder barked a laugh, the sound loud and guttural. "Hiding behind their little toys because they're too weak to fight us head-on? That's pathetic!"

The spear-wielder slammed the butt of his weapon into the ground. "And you want us to fear them because of that? Let them come! We'll crush their shiny armor and feast on their soft flesh!"

Volk was speechless to their reactions.

Each of the Orcs responded in their own way, their emotions on full display:

The braided female's face twisted into disdain. "Humans sound like nothing more than pests. Weak, skittering creatures who rely on tricks. I'd like to see one try to fight me without their toys. I'd break them in half with my bare hands."

The scarred male's eyes gleamed with anger. "If they're so clever, why haven't they wiped us out already? I'll tell you why—they're afraid. Afraid to face us in real combat."

The young dagger-wielder grinned wickedly. "If they use fire and explosions, we'll use the forest. Let's see how clever they are when they're surrounded by flames and have no way out."

The mace-wielder laughed again, louder this time. "Shiny armor? Let's see how shiny it is after I flatten it! Their metal toys won't save them from a real fight!"

The spear-wielder's lips curled into a snarl. "We've hunted beasts ten times their size. If humans are so fragile, they'll fall just as easily. Let them come!"

The dual knife fighter remained silent but smirked, sharpening his blades against each other, clearly relishing the thought of slicing through human ranks.

As if the fury were ignited, the group grew more animated, their voices overlapping as they fed off each other's confidence and anger.

"They won't stand a chance!"

"We'll rip them apart!"

"Their shiny metal won't protect them from us!"

"Let them come! We'll make them regret ever stepping into our forest!"

Volk watched them carefully, his jaw tightening but was almost down the ground.

Their rage was palpable, their disdain for the unknown humans boiling over into arrogance.

It was clear they believed themselves invincible, despite having never encountered the humans' true might.

Soon, Volk decided to give them doubts.

As the noise died down, Volk shook his head slowly. "You don't understand," he said, his voice calm but firm.

"This isn't a fight you can win through strength alone. The humans have entire armies—thousands of soldiers, each equipped with weapons designed to kill creatures like us."

But his words only seemed to fan their flames.

"We'll fight to the death if we have to!" the braided female declared. "Better to die standing than to live in fear of these cowards!"

The scarred male nodded in agreement. "We've survived this long without running. Why start now?"

The young dagger-wielder smirked. "If they're coming for us, let's make sure they regret it. Their shiny little toys won't save them from the bloodbath we'll bring."

Volk was beginning to feel frustration.

Volk felt a knot of frustration tightening in his chest. He understood their pride, their defiance, but he also knew it could get them killed.

If they rushed into battle against an organized human force, they wouldn't stand a chance.

Yet how could he convince them?

These were wild Orcs, unaccustomed to taking orders or thinking beyond the immediate fight.

To them, fear was weakness, and retreat was unthinkable.

For the first time since meeting them, Volk felt genuinely uncertain.

Should he try to force them to flee, knowing it would only sow resentment? Or should he let them fight, knowing it could lead to their deaths?

The map in his gauntlet glimmered faintly, marking the positions of the advancing humans.

Time was running out, and Volk had to decide.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

For now, he stood there, watching the defiant faces of his new horde, his mind racing.

What was the right choice?

What should he say?

Suddenly, Volk's lips curled into a sly grin as an idea formed in his mind.

He couldn't let these six hot-headed Orcs throw their lives away in a reckless charge.

If he wanted to keep them alive and build something greater, he had to appeal to their primal instincts—strength, hunger, and pride.

Raising his hand to silence their fiery declarations, he spoke with an air of authority.

"I understand your rage. I feel it too," Volk began, his deep voice carrying through the forest like a low growl.

The six Orcs paused, their angry mutterings subsiding as they turned to him, eager to hear their new leader's thoughts.

"I've seen humans fall. I've crushed them beneath my hands and torn through their ranks. But let me tell you this: fighting them now would be foolish."

He let those words hang in the air for a moment, watching as confusion and skepticism flickered across their faces.

Continue your story on empire

The braided female, always the most vocal, scowled and stepped forward. "Foolish? They're nothing but prey! Why should we wait when we can take their lives now?"

Volk raised a hand to stop her, his expression unyielding. "Because, warriors, I don't want to waste them."

The six Orcs were shocked, waste them?

The group blinked in unison, their expressions ranging from bewilderment to curiosity.

The scarred male tilted his head, his lips curling into a puzzled sneer. "Waste them? What are you talking about?"

Volk's grin widened, his sharp teeth glinting in the dappled sunlight.

"I don't want to fight the humans now because they're more useful to us alive... for now."

This statement caused a ripple of confusion. The young dagger-wielder scratched his head, his pointed ears twitching.

"Useful? Humans? What kind of trick is this, Warchief?"

Volk leaned in, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone, forcing them to listen closely.

"Their flesh and blood. Their bones. All of it. That's what I'm talking about."