Strongest Radioactive System

The silence following Luk'Tar's fall was abruptly shattered by Lak'Ran's furious bellow.

"Seize him! He used a weapon! He defied the law of Duel! We must not accept 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's command 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 form lay 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, growing larger 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 black magic.

His eyes, once gleaming with rage, were now dull, filled with a savage hunger.

And then, when his transformation was complete, 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 regular 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 enslaving the Hornless Orc tribe easily like a dog.

To see their mark on Luk'Tar was a terrifying omen. Get more insights at m_v_l_e_m_p_y_r

They were infiltrated.

"No! No, it can't be!"

"He's been tainted! Corrupted by dark magic!"

"What does this mean? Is the whole tribe compromised?"

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 accused 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 planned 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 slaves 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 collapsed 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 clawed 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 collapse, 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 relax, his eyes widened in realization.

The system.

The words flashed in his mind, a sudden, jarring reminder. He had completed the first mission—he had found the traitor—but 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 what lay ahead.

This was far from over.

He needed to complete the system mission first or the whole Dreadmaw clan would be annihilated!