Volk stood tall, the towering leader of the Orc horde, his bulging muscles flexing beneath his rough skin, sweat and dirt smeared across his face.

His breath came out in heavy, angry puffs as his eyes scanned the battlefield.

The six unknown human fighters had been giving his Orcs a surprisingly hard time.

For warriors as big and brutal as the Orcs, it was almost humiliating. Still, despite the chaos, Volk knew he was close to completing his mission.

He needed twenty-five kills, and these six wouldn’t be enough.

There was one more.

He frowned deeply as he surveyed the scene, eyes narrowing in frustration.

The clash of steel against Orc shields filled the air, mingled with the grunts and roars of battle.

The six humans were fast—almost unnaturally so—darting in and out of combat like blurs.

Orc after Orc swung at them with massive weapons, but the humans dodged with ease, countering with sharp strikes that managed to wound some of Volk’s best warriors.

Volk’s knuckles tightened around the hilt of his massive axe.

With every swing, an echo of WHOOSH cut through the air, but even his own attacks seemed too slow for these wretched humans.

He gritted his teeth, eyes darting between the fleeing humans and the battlefield.

Each time they struck, the humans would flash in and out of view like ghosts, slipping through the tight formation of Orcs.

In the midst of the battle, one of Volk’s Orcs, a particularly hefty warrior with a jagged club, took a wild swing at a human zipping past him. Find more chapters on мѵʟ

THWACK!

The club smashed into the concrete wall instead, sending cracks webbing out from the impact.

“Too slow, too slow!” The human laughed as he sped by.

The Orc growled in frustration, lifting the club again and bellowing, “You’re fast, but you’re not tough! I’ve seen blobs tougher than you!”

He swung again, but the human was gone, vanished in a blur of speed before the club could connect.

Volk watched this happen again and again, the humans slipping between his warriors like water. He could feel the frustration building in his chest, his jaw clenching with every failed strike.

“They’re mocking us,” Grashk, one of the Orcs beside Volk, muttered, his eyes filled with rage. “They think they can outlast us.”

“It’s just their strategy but they’re getting slow!” another Orc jeered, even as he parried a flurry of strikes from a human fighter. “They’re fast, but they don’t have the strength and endurance to finish us!”

Volk raised his axe high, the muscles in his arms straining with the effort.

His eyes gleamed with fury.

He needed more kills. He needed twenty-five, but these slippery humans had only cost him time, and he had only managed to strike down eighteen of them so far.

Volk snarled under his breath, “Should I just kill all the children? That’ll draw them out.”

He glanced back towards the hostages, the helpless children who were cowering in the corner of a crumbling building.

They were trembling, fear etched into their faces as they huddled together.

Volk’s mind raced. If the system wasn’t satisfied with these humans, he might have to resort to more drastic measures.

Suddenly, one of the Orcs, bleeding from a dozen cuts, roared, “Where did they go?!”

Volk’s sharp eyes scanned the battlefield, but the six humans were nowhere to be seen. He gritted his teeth, his fury bubbling over.

“Cowards! Disappearing into thin air like the weaklings they are!” he growled. “I need those kills!”

Once the three minutes were left, Volk would transform into his Radioactive form and destroy this city to make sure.

The Orcs around him grumbled in confusion, unsure where their opponents had vanished to.

There was an uneasy silence as the horde scanned their surroundings, waiting for the next attack.

Volk, breathing heavily, ran his fingers through his greasy hair and then… he smiled.

A wicked, predatory grin spread across his face as an idea struck him. “Since they won’t come to me willingly, I’ll force them out!”

With a swift turn, Volk marched toward the hostages.

The trembling children watched in horror as the massive Orc approached them, his footsteps heavy on the broken pavement.

He towered over them, his large hand reaching down to grab a plump, terrified child.

The kid’s eyes were wide, tears streaming down his cheeks as Volk hoisted him into the air.

The other Orcs began to cheer as Volk dangled the child before the battlefield. “Come out, come out, little humans, or I’ll devour him right here!”

The boy’s screams filled the air. “M-Mommy! Daddy! Help me!” he sobbed, wriggling in Volk’s iron grip.

Volk brought the child closer to his mouth, his jagged teeth glinting as he opened his jaw wide, ready to bite down. But just as he was about to sink his teeth into the boy, something shifted.

There was a sudden, overwhelming WHOOSH in the air, like a thunderclap had just erupted above them.

Volk froze, his senses on high alert.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the atmosphere changed.

The air grew still for a moment before a powerful gust of wind rushed through the street, sending dust and debris flying in all directions.

“What the—?” Volk muttered, his grip on the child loosening slightly.

A split second later, there was a THOOM as a figure descended from above, landing with a force that cracked the pavement.

A lone teenager, his hair wild and eyes burning with an intense energy, stepped forward from the swirling dust cloud.

He walked slowly towards Volk, his expression calm but his presence commanding, as though he had walked straight out of a storm.

Volk’s eyes narrowed at the newcomer, his grip tightening once again on the child.

The Orcs around him grunted in confusion, glancing between each other and the lone teenager.

“Who the hell is this?” Grashk muttered, taking a defensive stance.

The teenager said nothing as he approached, his gaze locked on Volk.

There was a sharpness in his eyes, a quiet fury that simmered beneath his calm exterior.

He moved with confidence, with his steps sounding deliberate and unhurried.

Volk’s lips curled into a sneer as he stared down at the boy. “Another human? You think you can take the Horde on alone, boy?”

The teenager continued walking, unfazed by Volk’s taunt. His hands remained at his sides, relaxed but ready.

Without warning, Volk hurled the child towards the teenager with a vicious roar. “Catch him, if you can!”

But the boy didn’t flinch.

As the child flew through the air, the teenager blurred into action, moving faster than the eye could follow.

SWOOSH—in a blink, he was beneath the child, catching him gently in his arms before setting him down behind him.

Volk’s sneer faltered for a brief moment as he watched the smooth, almost effortless movements of the boy. His confidence wavered, but only for a moment.

“Impressive,” Volk growled, his voice low and dangerous. “But you’re still just one boy.”

The Orcs, sensing a shift in the tension, gripped their weapons tighter. They stood ready, waiting for their Warchief’s command to attack.

The teenager finally spoke, his voice steady and cold. “I’m not here to fight your horde. I’m here for you.”

Volk’s grin returned, wider and more savage than before. He slammed the butt of his axe into the ground, sending tremors through the earth. “For me?”

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