Strongest Radioactive System

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 blast, he launched himself into the air, speeding away with all the power his suit allowed.

His mind raced as fast as his body, calculating every possibility of survival, every counterattack. But no plan 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 blazing 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 clawed 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, circular shockwaves.

At first, they were small and faint, noticeable only to those nearby. But then another wave followed, wider and faster.

Another came, growing larger and stronger each time.

The pulses rippled outwards, each one more powerful than the last, as if the very ground itself were breathing in time with Volk's fury.

The armored man, speeding across the landscape like a desperate comet, glanced 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-Class entity in mere seconds.

Now, there was only one option left—run, 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—a shockwave.

KABOOM!

The blast hit him like a wall, stopping him dead in his tracks, his armor rattling with the force.

He stumbled, thrown off balance as the ground beneath him trembled from the impact.

Soon, a trail of blood could be seen where his body lay.

…

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 display of death and carnage.

The remaining humans, paralyzed with fear, could do nothing but watch as their comrades were torn apart by the unseen force.

Volk's allies—the Orcs and Ogres—stared, both horrified and awe-struck.

The display 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 if compelled by some primal impulse, Volk slammed his chest—once, twice, and again, his fists pounding like war drums echoing across the ravaged field.

"I AM VOLK! I AM THE WARCHIEF!"
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His voice was like a thunderclap, 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—massive even among their kind, their muscled forms enhanced by the raw power of the Grum-gar transformation—came 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, glancing 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—a 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 similar 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, glaring 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.