The man in the armor floated above the battlefield, his arms crossed arrogantly, casting a sneering gaze upon Volk and his horde.

His polished armor gleamed in the dim light, radiating a golden glow that seemed to mock the chaos unfolding below.

His eyes narrowed, observing with cold detachment as his allies, the human rankers, advanced in perfect formation, weapons drawn and magic swirling around them like a deadly storm.

Volk, his senses sharpened by his Radioactive form, felt the shift in the air.

His massive frame tensed as his eyes darted behind him, sensing the sudden influx of human rankers closing in.

He let out a low growl, his anger bubbling up as he saw the humans charging at his horde.

The smell of blood and burning ozone filled the air as the two sides prepared to clash.

Suddenly, Grashk, Volk’s trusted lieutenant, appeared by his side.

The hulking Ogre, his skin a mottled mix of dark green and brown, approached respectfully, his voice a deep rumble.

“Volk,” he called out.

Volk turned his crimson eyes to his friend and nodded in acknowledgment.

Then, without hesitation, he raised his massive fist into the air, the muscles in his arm bulging with raw power.

“LOOOKKKTAAAARR!!” he roared, his voice booming across the battlefield like thunder. “OOOOGAAAAAAAARRR!!!”

His rallying cry shook the earth, and the horde of Ogres responded with a deafening chorus of roars, their battle cries filling the air with primal rage.

The ground trembled beneath their feet as they charged forward, their massive bodies crashing into the human rankers like a tidal wave of brute force.

The battlefield erupted into pure chaos.

The first collision was bone-shattering.

The sound of steel meeting flesh echoed in the air, followed by the sickening crunch of bones breaking under the weight of massive Ogre fists.

CRACK!

A human ranker was flung through the air, his body twisting unnaturally as an Ogre’s hammer-like fist struck his side, sending him flying into a nearby building with a thunderous BOOM!

But the humans were no pushovers.

The human rankers, Class A in strength, stood their ground with a terrifying combination of physical prowess and magical might.

One of them, a tall woman with dark hair, slashed at an Ogre with a glowing blade of fire.

WHOOSH!

The flames roared as her blade sliced through the Ogre’s thick skin, leaving a trail of seared flesh and blackened blood.

The Ogre howled in pain but retaliated immediately, swinging a massive club at her with enough force to level a small building. SMASH!

She dodged the blow with nimble precision, her movements almost too fast for the eye to follow.

She was followed by several other rankers, each wielding a different element—lightning crackled, fire blazed, and ice formed around the battlefield as they unleashed their magical attacks.

Grashk fought alongside Volk, his enormous fists pounding into the ground, sending shockwaves that knocked several humans off their feet.

However, for every human he knocked down, two more rose to take their place.

“RAGGHH!”

Grashk bellowed, swinging wildly at the human rankers surrounding him.

His fists connected with one, smashing him into the dirt, but the others retaliated with sharp blades and elemental magic.

Volk, standing at the center of the battle, watched as his horde engaged in a vicious brawl.

At first, it seemed like they were evenly matched—the Ogres, with their immense size and raw strength, were holding their own against the human rankers.

However, Volk’s sharp eyes soon noticed something troubling. His brow furrowed as he squinted at the battlefield.

Despite their size and power, the Ogres were struggling.

The human rankers weren’t just strong—they were organized, strategic, and most importantly, they were using magic.

Volk snarled as he watched one of his largest Ogres fall to the ground, its body wracked with electricity from a lightning spell.

“So, it’s affecting us now?”

Another Ogre, caught in a blast of freezing ice, was rendered immobile before a group of human rankers swiftly cut it down.

“Maybe the magic of the last human rankers before them were ignored by us because they are weak, but now…” Volk’s mind raced as he tried to comprehend the situation.

The weaker human rankers from earlier had barely affected his horde with their spells. But these new ones… these Class A rankers, their magic was potent.

It was breaking through the Ogres’ natural resistance, and his horde was paying the price for it.

Volk gritted his teeth, rage boiling inside him.

“We’re stronger… but their magic is really affecting us now huh…”

He watched as another of his Ogres, despite being twice the size of his opponent, was brought down by a torrent of fire and ice.

The magical attacks were making the difference, tipping the scales in the humans’ favor.

…

Meanwhile, high above the battlefield, the armored man floated with a smug expression, his arms still arrogantly crossed as he observed the carnage below.

His lips curled into a mocking smirk as he watched the Ogres struggle against his fellow human rankers.

“Weak,” he thought, his mind filled with disdain for the horde below.

“These monsters are nothing. Just big, dumb brutes.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Class A rankers are handling them easily. They don’t even need me down there. It’s almost embarrassing to watch.”

He watched as a group of human rankers, wielding blades infused with elemental magic, effortlessly carved through the Ogres’ ranks.

One by one, the hulking creatures fell, their massive bodies crashing to the ground like felled trees.

The armored man scoffed, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Look at them,” he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.

“They don’t even know how to handle magic. They just charge in like brainless animals. Pathetic.”

He let out a cruel laugh, watching as another Ogre was brought to its knees by a barrage of fireballs.

“Dumb monsters,” he thought, his smirk widening.

“They’re so predictable. Magic always confuses them. They have no counter for it.” He shook his head, his armor glinting in the light as he floated above the chaos. “They think brute strength is enough. It’s laughable.”

The armored man’s laughter echoed in his own mind as he watched the scene unfold.

“If this is all they’ve got, we’ll wipe them out in no time.” He cast a glance at Volk, who was still fighting with all his might at the center of the battlefield, and snorted dismissively.

“Even their leader… he’s nothing special. Just another brute who doesn’t understand real power. They just got lucky they faced the weaker rankers earlier. Now, it’s time for our revenge! Humanistic revenge!”

But then, something caught his eye.

Volk had turned to face him, his crimson eyes locked onto the armored man.

Despite the chaos, despite the magic ripping through his horde, Volk’s lips twisted into a savage grin, his gaze burning with challenge.

The armored man’s laughter suddenly died in his throat.

“What is he looking at? Is he challenging me? Is the leader of the horde overestimating himself?”

The man sneered.

“His horde is being thoroughly crushed, yet he still dares to act arrogant. Is this leader out of his mind? It

seems their intelligence is not high enough; this is not surprising given their brutish nature and their mindless brawling strategy…”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep