Strongest Radioactive System

The harpy people fell one after another, their screeches of fury fading into silence as Volk's traps and sheer might brought their reign of the skies to a bloody end.

The last harpy, their leader, glared defiantly at Volk before succumbing to the crushing blow of his axe.

The battlefield, littered with feathers and blood, was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves disturbed by the lingering breeze.

Then, the familiar chime echoed in Volk's ears.

Ding!

You have destroyed all the harpies.

Reward: A complete map and direction to the elven territory of Orzaroth.

Volk's sharp eyes widened as a translucent map unfurled before him, glowing faintly in the dim light.

Detailed routes to Orzaroth sprawled across the projection, showing landmarks, forests, rivers, and guarded borders.

The elven territory was now within reach—a goal he'd long coveted. Explore more stories with empire

A toothy grin spread across Volk's face.

"Finally," he muttered, his voice low but triumphant.

The harpies had been formidable, their persistence and cunning nearly exhausting his patience, but now they were gone, and the reward was his.

He turned back toward the cave, his powerful strides crunching over broken branches and scattered feathers.

Entering the cave, he saw his horde—Ogres and Orcs alike—still sprawled out in exhausted slumber.

Blood-streaked and battered, their faces were serene in rest, unaware of the battle that Volk had fought and won on their behalf.

Volk stood silently for a moment, his gaze sweeping over them.

These warriors, his kin, had trusted him to lead them, and while their strategies and strength were valuable, there were times when he had to shoulder the burden alone.

Watching them rest, their chests rising and falling rhythmically, a rare warmth spread through his chest.

He muttered under his breath, "They don't even know… not yet."

Slowly, he settled down against the cool stone of the cave wall, leaning back as he allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation.

He felt the aches and pains of the battle creeping up on him, but it was a good pain—a reminder of victory.

His heavy lids closed, and for the first time in a long while, Volk allowed himself to rest, a content smirk lingering on his face.

The map to Orzaroth was his.

The harpies were no more. And his horde, oblivious to the danger that had been vanquished, would wake to a new day without the shadow of harpy wings looming over them.

For now, Volk allowed himself the peace of sleep.

Tomorrow, they would march toward the elven lands, and a new chapter of conquest would begin.

…

Two days passed in the damp, cold confines of the cave.

The stillness was broken by the soft groans and heavy stretches of the horde waking up.

The Ogres cracked their knuckles, their towering frames shifting as they rolled stiff shoulders.

The Orcs rubbed their eyes, fangs flashing briefly as they yawned in unison.

The air carried the faint scent of soot and damp earth, but a peculiar sense of peace settled over them.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they had slept deeply, uninterrupted by the sounds of battle, the clanging of weapons, or the desperate screams of the dying.

One of the younger Orcs, his green skin marred by shallow scars from recent fights, blinked sluggishly as he stretched his arms.

"That was... that was the best sleep I've had in years," he muttered, almost disbelieving. He turned to an older Orc sharpening his blade. "Do you feel it? Like we actually rested for once?"n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The elder Orc paused, looking up from his blade with a grunt. "Hmph. Feels strange. My muscles aren't burning, my head isn't pounding. Almost feels like I've gone soft," he said, though a faint smile tugged at his cracked lips.

An Ogre leaned against the cave wall, his massive frame nearly blocking out the dim light filtering through the entrance.

"You're not wrong," he rumbled, his deep voice echoing. "I don't remember the last time I didn't wake up aching everywhere. Feels... unnatural."

Another Orc joined in, his tone light-hearted. "Unnatural? It feels like a damn miracle. You don't get nights like that in the wild. I woke up and didn't even think about sharpening my weapon first thing. That's how good it was."

The group burst into chuckles, the tension from the past battles momentarily lifting. Conversations blossomed among them, recounting their exhaustion before this rare respite.

One Ogre joked about how he had dreamed of eating an entire mountain of roasted boar, while an Orc bragged that his dreams involved slaughtering an endless wave of enemies without getting tired.

Volk, leaning against a jagged rock at the cave's edge, observed them with his sharp, calculating eyes. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, and a sly smirk played on his lips.

He allowed their laughter to fill the cave for a few moments before clearing his throat.

The sound carried an authority that silenced the chatter instantly, drawing every gaze to him.

"Good sleep, was it?" Volk began, his tone dripping with amusement. His gaze swept over the group, his smirk widening. "Do none of you remember why we came here? Why we're hiding in the shadows of this cave like prey?"

The horde exchanged confused glances, their laughter fading. One Orc hesitantly spoke up, scratching his head. "Uh... we were training? Fighting? Running, maybe? It's all a blur."

Volk's smirk turned into a sharp grin. "Running. Chased like animals. By harpies."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the group. The realization dawned on them like a cold splash of water, and some of them shifted uncomfortably.

"Harpies?" one Ogre repeated, his voice laced with both confusion and embarrassment. "You mean those feathered pests from the sky were hunting us? Impossible! I will kill them!"

Volk looked at the Ogre and laughed inwardly. Last time, you were black and blue, beaten to the point of almost crying, and now you act like you don't remember?

How shameless. But considering that Ogres were brain-dead idiots, he could only sigh.

Ultimately, Volk nodded, his grin fading into a serious expression.

"Yes. Those 'feathered pests' who have been hunting us relentlessly, waiting for a moment of weakness to finish us off. The ones who tore through the trees and nearly bled us dry. And yet, you all slept so soundly as if we had won a grand victory."

The group fell silent, their gazes dropping to the cave floor. Some muttered curses under their breath, while others clenched their fists in shame.

"But," Volk continued, his voice growing louder and more commanding, "that's why I'm here. To think ahead, to ensure your survival." He let the words sink in before delivering the next blow. "Do you think they've simply given up? That they've flown away, defeated, while you lot snored away the hours?"

The Orcs and Ogres tensed, their earlier relaxation replaced with renewed unease. "If they haven't left," one Orc dared to ask, his voice wavering, "then why haven't they attacked us yet?"

Volk leaned forward, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Because they're cautious. They think we've laid traps. They know we're vengeful creatures, and they suspect we're waiting for them to strike. That hesitation is the only reason you're alive right now."

The horde exchanged uneasy glances, but Volk raised a hand to silence any questions. "And it's not just their fear that keeps them at bay. I've already dealt with them, scouted their movements, and ensured they'll hesitate to come near us again for now."

The horde blinked in surprise, a wave of admiration washing over them. "You... you dealt with them?" one of the younger Orcs asked, his voice filled with awe. "Alone?"

Volk didn't answer directly. Instead, he turned his back to them, his voice carrying a note of finality. "You're safe for now. But it's not over. We need to recover fully before we make our move."

The group erupted into cheers, their earlier doubts and fears replaced with renewed confidence.

They clapped their hands, stomped their feet, and roared in agreement. "For Volk! For the horde! For Warchief!" they shouted with their lungs and chest out, their voices echoing off the cave walls that they were in like a grumbling volcano.

Volk allowed their enthusiasm to build before turning back, his expression fierce and commanding.

"Rest for now," he ordered. "Heal your wounds, sharpen your weapons, and regain your strength. When the time comes, we'll make our comeback, and those harpies will wish they'd never crossed us. We will make them pay!"

The horde roared in agreement, their spirits lifted.

"LOK'TAR OGAAAAAR!!"

"LOK'TAR OGAAAAAR!!"

"LOK'TAR OGAAAAAR!!"

One by one, they began to settle back into their makeshift resting spots, their trust in Volk's leadership solidified.

As the cave fell silent once more, Volk watched them with a faint smirk, his mind already calculating their next move.

Facing the harpies, made Volk a little humble, fortunately, he can access through his power now and his Radioactive form was much longer, if not, they would have been defeated.

What if they met another group of Monsters and he already used his Radioactive form? It seems he needed to strengthen his horde from ground, water and land!