Strongest Radioactive System

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 Clan managed to pass through the other clans 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? Stay updated through m-v l|e'm,p y r

He was thinking maybe that Volk or the new generation of the Dreadmaw Clan 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.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Volk slammed his bone spear on his bone shield. And the others followed suit.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Clang! Clang! Clang!

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 the last 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 blade.

"ARE YOU READY, DREADMAW CLAN?"

Volk bellowed, with his voice filled with challenge and desire for combat.

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 claws and low growls grew louder as the monsters emerged from the depths of the tunnel.

These were creatures Grounad couldn't recognize—beasts 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—each one more horrifying than the last—began to tremble. And then, as if driven by some unseen force, they turned and fled.

Swack! Swack! Swack!

The scurrying claws and growls turned to pitiful whimpers as the monsters scrambled away in fear, disappearing into the shadows from which they had come.

The Dreadmaw Clan 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, flabbergasted, his mind struggling to comprehend 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 booming laugh erupted from Grashk, one of the Dreadmaw warriors. "HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The others joined in, their laughter filling the cavern, each one casting amused glances at Grounad.

"LOOK AT HIS FACE!" Grok'Thar bellowed between fits of laughter. "HAHAHAHA! HE'S COMPLETELY LOST RIGHT NOW HAHAHAHHA!"

Another Orc pounded his fist on his thigh, doubling over with laughter. "YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR EXPRESSION, GROUNAD! YOU LOOKED LIKE YOU JUST SAW A GHOST!" His laughter was so intense that he could barely get the words out.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" The chorus of laughter grew louder as more and more of the Dreadmaw Clan joined in, their voices filling the cavern with an infectious joy.

"OH SHIT! OH SHIT! HAHAHAHAHA!"

They slapped 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 Clan 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—a predator even stronger than they are who was more adapted to the magic particles. They don't dare come 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 nonchalant. "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 of laughter 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 the laughter died down, Volk turned and glanced over his shoulder at the group, his expression calm and unreadable.

Without saying a word, he continued forward, leading the Dreadmaw Clan 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—it 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 Clan 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.