Chapter 6: VOLK, THE STRONGEST OF THEM ALL

Volk's eyes narrowed as the system screen blinked before him.

| Ding!

| Mission: Get yourself a Nuclear Reactor Vessel!

| Reward: Radioactive Ability in the normal orc form and in Gamma Radioactive form.

| Failure: A minute of Radioactive form duration reduction. |

Volk's face twisted into a savage confusion.

"What is a nuclear reactor vessel?" he mumbled. "Isn't that a thing that contains nuclear energy? How am I supposed to find that?"

However, he would just shake his head, his focus for now was to get a wife to establish a symbiotic relationship with at least one of the elves so he would become aware of Mana once he pair bonded with one. And for now, he had to deal with the current situation to get that bond with a random witch elf.

But as the thought of his near-failure in his head was caused by Luk'Tar—knowing that if he hadn't arrived in time, he would have lost the chance to prove himself and complete the mission—his fury immediately reignited.

He could almost feel the sting of loss, the bitterness of missing out on the reward he could use in the future in his normal form, where he didn't need to go titan green, making him want to smash this hornless Orc into pieces.

With a roar that shook the earth, Volk slammed his fist into the ground, sending a shockwave through the soil.

"ROOOAAARRRR!!" he bellowed, his voice seemed to send shockwaves of solide wind through the clearing, causing some random small birds to take flight in panic.

"VOLK WANTS TO SMASH THIEF! VOLK ISN'T LYING! VOLK NEVER LIES!"

His roar was deafening, like a guttural scream of rage and frustration from the abyss of hatred.

His muscles rippled under the strain of his transformation, his skin glowing faintly with the eerie green light of his radioactive form.

The ground beneath him even cracked and splintered, it was though the earth was unable to withstand the force of his uncontrollable fury.

Around him, the crowd began to murmur.

At first, the whispers were doubtful, questioning how could a Labor Orc claim that he caught the skinless venomous earth mole, but as they watched Volk's Grum-gar form continue to grow more and more imposing, their voices immediately shifted from disbelief to something more hesitant, and even almost fearful.

"Did you see that? He's in Grum-gar form, just like the warriors."

"How could a Labor Orc do that? I thought only trained warriors could access it."

"It's not rare, some even transformed into their Grum-gar form, yesterday."

"Maybe… maybe he's telling the truth about the mole. No ordinary Labor Orc could transform like that, only those who have warrior blood on them."

Volk heard every word. His sharp ears picked up the conversations from all sides, feeding into his growing confidence.

The crowd was beginning to doubt Luk'Tar, to believe in Volk's strength, and that only fueled his rage further.

He was no longer just a Labor Orc in their eyes.

He was a force to be reckoned with, a true contender for the honor that Luk'Tar had stolen from him.

On the other side of the clearing, Luk'Tar's eyes widened in shock.

'Did he just transform at will?'

He hadn't expected this.

It was difficult to grasp the ability to transform into their Grum-gar form, as it often took months to access it, but this one...

He had easily achieved it!

However, Luk'Tar shook his head. This orc seemed overwhelmed by emotions, which may have been the reason he was able to transform this time.

Luk'Tar would not feel fear. Not from a Labor Orc.

But then, he paused.

The thought that Volk could access the Grum-gar form fast enough was unsettling, but more than that, it was dangerous.

If Volk could do this, then he could use the Tribe's ancient magic to expose the truth, to reveal Luk'Tar's lie. His honor, his reputation, everything he had built could crumble in an instant.

Luk'Tar's jaw tightened, and he forced himself to remain calm. He couldn't let his fear show. Stepping forward, he met Volk's furious gaze with a calm, calculated stare.

"I don't know who you are," he began, his voice steady and firm, "but you're the one who betrayed me back then, together with the other Labor Orcs, and then tried to stab me in the back. You're lucky I even spared you. And do you really think you're the only one who can access Grum-gar form? I and the others can too."

The words were like a declaration of acceptance, Solluha'r on the side couldn't help but feel worried, "Luk'Tar," she whispered but the air around Luk'Tar already changed as he began his transformation.

His body shuddered as it started to expand, muscles bulging grotesquely beneath his skin.

His arms thickened, veins popping out as his hands turned into deadly claws.

His chest heaved as it grew broader, his torso becoming a wall of muscle and sinew.

Every inch of him pulsed with raw power, but unlike Volk, there was no eerie green glow in his eyes.

He was a warrior through and through, honed and trained for battle.

His transformation was slow, methodical, each movement deliberate and controlled.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as Luk'Tar completed his transformation.

His massive form towered over them, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of his heavy breathing.

Then, with a thunderous voice that shook the very ground, Luk'Tar bellowed, "I Accept!"

"KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!"

His roar echoed through the forest, bouncing off the towering stone structures and amplifying in volume.

"KORNUUM DRHAKAR!!"

The crowd gasped.

This was unexpected.

Luk'Tar could have denied the challenge. He was the winner of the event; he didn't need to prove himself further.

He could have dismissed Volk as a madman, a liar, and walked away with his prize. But he didn't.

"What is he thinking?" one Orc whispered.

"He could just walk away, but he's accepting the challenge?" another murmured.

"He's risking it all just to fight a Labor Orc?"

Luk'Tar ignored the whispers, his eyes locked on Volk.

He had to do this.

He had to silence the nagging guilt that had plagued him ever since he stole the skinless venomous earth mole.

The uncomfortable feeling that gnawed at his conscience, the sense that he had done something wrong, something dishonorable.

Maybe, just maybe, if he defeated Volk in combat, that feeling would go away. Besides, he was confident in his abilities.

He had trained for years in this form.

Volk was just a Labor Orc who had only recently accessed his Grum-gar form. There was no way Volk could match him in combat.

Volk, however, was unfazed by Luk'Tar's transformation.

His eyes blazed with fury, the green glow of his radioactive form burning brighter as his anger intensified.

He could feel the power surging through his muscles as every single one of it tightened, the raw, unfiltered energy that threatened to devour him. But he didn't care.

All that mattered was taking down the Orc who had stolen from him, who had left him to die.

With a primal growl, Volk lunged forward, his massive fists aimed directly at Luk'Tar.

"VOLK HATES LYING THIEF!!" he roared, his voice a thunderous bellow that sent shockwaves through the crowd.

Luk'Tar watched as Volk charged toward him with a furious intensity, his massive fists seemed so obvious that he would just swing them wildly.

There was no strategy, no calculated moves—just raw, unbridled rage.

Luk'Tar's lips curled into a sneer.

This was almost too easy. Volk was nothing more than a Labor Orc who had only recently discovered the Grum-gar form.

Luk'Tar had been training for combat his entire life.

With a calm breathing, Luk'Tar discarded his weapon, tossing it aside as if it were nothing. He didn't need it. He was confident in his strength, confident in his fists.

As Volk closed the distance between them, Luk'Tar swung his massive arm, and immediately, his fist connected with Volk's head with a sickening THWACK!

The impact was so forcefully violent that Volk's body whipped backward, and with a powerful slam, Luk'Tar drove Volk's head into the ground, the earth shattering beneath the blow.

CRUNCH!

The sound of rock and soil splitting echoed through the clearing.

Before Volk could even register the pain, Luk'Tar was on him again, his fists pounding down like hammers.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Each strike shook the ground, sending tremors through the earth that rippled outward.

Volk's growls of pain were drowned out by the relentless THUD! of Luk'Tar's fists colliding with his skull.

Each punch was harder than the last, each one driving Volk deeper into the ground, as if Luk'Tar was trying to bury him alive with sheer brute force.

"URGH!"

Volk grunted, trying to push back, but the blows kept coming.

Every time he tried to move, or where he tried to retaliate, Luk'Tar's fist would hit him with crushing force. His body screamed in agony, his bones rattling under the relentless assault.

In time, the world around him started to go blur, the edges of his vision darkening with each devastating hit.

Through the haze of pain, Volk could hear the voices of the other Orcs around him, their mocking tones cutting through the air like knives.

"What was he thinking?" one Orc scoffed. "A Labor Orc challenging a warrior trained from birth?"

"He just learned to access the Grum-gar form," another voice sneered. "And he thinks he can take on someone like Luk'Tar?"

"And this one here?" a third voice chimed in with a mocking laugh.

"He's claiming he caught the skinless venomous earth mole? That's a joke! Everyone knows only the strongest could even get close to that thing!"

Their laughter rang in Volk's ears, to him they were loud and cruel.

They didn't believe him. They didn't believe he was strong enough, capable enough.

To them, he was still just a Labor Orc, destined to fail, to be crushed beneath the heel of someone stronger.

THUD!

Another punch landed, but something inside Volk snapped. His anger, already a raging inferno, flared even brighter.

His vision, once blurred by the pain, began to sharpen, and the mocking voices faded into the background, replaced by the pounding of his own heartbeat.

His eyes, glowing with the unnatural green light of his radioactive form, burned even fiercer, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

Luk'Tar, noticing the shift in Volk's expression, hesitated.

The Labor Orc should have been unconscious by now, beaten into submission. But Volk wasn't going down.

Instead, he was glaring up at him, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down Luk'Tar's spine.

THUD!

Luk'Tar delivered another punch, but this time, Volk didn't budge.

His head didn't slam into the ground. Instead, he remained upright, his gaze locked onto Luk'Tar.

Confusion flickered in Luk'Tar's eyes. His fist still connected with Volk's skull, but it was as if the Labor Orc had become an immovable object.

With a sudden, bone-crushing grip, Volk's hand shot up and clamped around Luk'Tar's wrist.

The force of the grasp made Luk'Tar wince, as if his confidence wavering for the first time immediately.

This wasn't right. This Labor Orc wasn't supposed to be this strong, wasn't supposed to be able to fight back.

Volk's lips curled into a snarl, his voice low and menacing. "VOOOOOOOLLKKK," he growled, his words dripping with fury and defiance.

The ground beneath them trembled as Volk's power surged, his muscles swelling with the force of his destructive rage.

"IS THE STRONGEST-" Volk roared, with his voice already echoing through the clearing with the force of a thunderclap, he will add, "OF THEM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLL!!!" Sёarch* The NôᴠelFirё.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

With a sudden, explosive movement, Volk flung Luk'Tar away from him, sending the larger Orc hurtling through the air.

CRASH!

Luk'Tar's body collided with a tent, the sturdy fabric were torn apart as the force of the impact ripped the tent poles from the ground.

Until the whole structure crumpled under the weight, collapsing in on itself as Luk'Tar tumbled through the debris.

Meanwhile, the sound of wood splintering and fabric ripping filled the whole silent place, the once-majestic tent now reduced to a heap of wreckage.

Luk'Tar slumped to the ground amidst the ruins, dazed and disoriented.

The breath had been knocked out of him, and he struggled to regain his composure, blinking through the dust and debris that swirled around his eyes and nose.

Meanwhile, Volk stood tall, his chest heaving with each breath, and his eyes were still glowing with an unnatural green light.

The place and crowd fell silent, their mocking laughter earlier were now replaced with shock.

It was clear.

No one had expected this.