The giant opened its colossal mouth again, the maw stretching wide enough to swallow mountains, and then it roared—a sound so deafening that it felt like the world itself would split apart.

ROOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

The air trembled violently, the ground beneath their feet cracked open in jagged fissures, and the sky seemed to ripple as if the roar were tearing through reality itself. Volk braced himself instinctively, his feet digging into the trembling earth, but around him, the scene descended into chaos once more.

The goblins screamed first, their high-pitched wails barely audible over the overwhelming force of the roar.

“Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!” one shrieked, collapsing to his knees with his small hands desperately clawing at his ears.

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“My head! My head is going to explode!” another wailed, his body convulsing violently as blood sprayed from his ears.

“It’s worse! It’s worse this time!” a third managed to cry out before he fell flat on his face, twitching, his green skin now pale and drenched in blood.

The orcs fared little better. Their larger frames shook uncontrollably, their muscles failing them under the oppressive force of the sound.

“It’s killing us!” one bellowed, his deep voice breaking into a guttural moan as he toppled over, blood trickling from his eyes.

“My ears! My body! I can’t take this!” another growled, his massive hands clutching his head in desperation.

“VOLK! HELP US! DO SOMETHING!” a third roared before collapsing to his knees, blood pouring from his nose and mouth in thick rivulets.

The ogres, mighty and steadfast, were beginning to falter now. Their deep voices turned into pitiful groans, their hulking bodies buckling under the invisible weight of the sound.

“Is this… the end for us?” one rumbled weakly, his voice trembling as blood oozed from the corners of his eyes.

“Leader! We’re… we’re dying!” another bellowed, his massive frame shuddering violently before crashing to the ground like a felled tree.

“VOLK! TELL US WHAT TO DO!” a third cried out, his booming voice filled with desperation as he clawed at the ground, his massive tusks stained crimson.

Blood was everywhere now, pooling around their fallen bodies, painting the ground in dark streaks of red. Goblins clutched at their heads, orcs writhed in pain, and ogres lay motionless, their labored breaths the only sign they were still alive.

Volk stood amidst the devastation, his mind racing. What could he do? His horde—his warriors—were falling one by one. Each of their cries of agony stabbed at his soul like a blade, and the guilt was unbearable. For the first time in his life, Volk didn’t have an answer.

One goblin turned his bloodied face toward Volk, his wide, terrified eyes filled with tears. “Leader… why aren’t you helping us?”

“Why can’t you save us?” another groaned, his voice filled with betrayal.

“VOLK! SAY SOMETHING!” an orc bellowed, his blood-soaked hand reaching out toward him before slumping to the ground.

The cries of his horde grew fainter as one by one they succumbed to the force of the roar. The air grew heavy with despair. For a moment, even Volk felt the crushing weight of hopelessness pressing down on him. This was it. They were all going to die here.

The giant roared again, the sound growing even more violent, more unforgiving. The ground shook harder, cracks spreading further and deeper. Volk’s sharp eyes caught the horrifying sight of blood erupting from the ears and eyes of the goblins closest to him.

“AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!” one screamed as his head fell forward, his body twitching violently before going limp.

“LEADER! IT’S OVER!” another goblin shrieked before collapsing, his small frame shivering before it went still.

The orcs groaned in unison, their massive bodies convulsing on the ground.

“It’s too much… we’re going to die!” one grunted, blood pooling beneath his head.

“We trusted you, Volk… and now—” another started to say before his voice broke into a choked sob, his body going limp.

Even the mighty ogres were succumbing.

“This can’t… be happening…” one rumbled weakly, his voice cracking as his hulking frame shuddered.

“We can’t survive this…” another groaned before falling silent, his massive body unmoving.

Volk’s heart pounded as he stood in the middle of this nightmare. The roar continued, but Volk… wasn’t falling. Why?

His sharp mind latched onto the oddity. The sound was deafening, the pressure unbearable, yet he was still standing. His ears weren’t bleeding, his body wasn’t shaking. He blinked, momentarily stunned by the realization.

“Why am I… fine?” he muttered to himself, his eyes darting around the battlefield of his fallen horde. The realization began to spark something in him—a question, an idea, a hope.

As the roar finally began to die down, the horde turned their bloodied, tear-streaked faces to him once more. Despite their pain and fear, their eyes pleaded with him for guidance.

“Volk…” one orc croaked weakly. “What… do we do now?”

“Leader… save us…” an ogre rumbled, his voice barely audible.

Volk’s eyes narrowed as his mind raced. There had to be a reason he wasn’t affected. He clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. Whatever the answer was, he was going to find it. For his horde, for their survival. He wasn’t going to let them die here. Not like this.

The battlefield was a cacophony of agony and despair. Volk stood at the center of it all, the unyielding pillar in a sea of suffering. The roars of the mist giant had subsided, but their echoes lingered in the air like a haunting melody. Around him, the members of his horde clung desperately to life. Their cries for salvation, their pitiful pleas for help, reverberated in his ears.

“Leader… Volk…” croaked a goblin whose frail, green body was twisted unnaturally on the ground. Blood dripped from his ears, pooling beneath him. His small hand reached out, trembling as though grasping for something—anything—that could save him. His wide, bulging eyes stared at Volk with a mixture of fear, pain, and betrayal. “Why aren’t you… doing… something?”

Nearby, an orc groaned, his massive frame convulsing violently. His tusks were slick with blood, and thick rivulets of crimson ran down his face from his eyes and ears. “Leader… it hurts… it hurts so much… why… why is this happening to us?” His voice was ragged, filled with desperation as he clawed at his own chest, as though trying to rip the pain out of his very soul.

The ogres, once indomitable titans of the horde, were reduced to groaning heaps of muscle and misery. One of them, his colossal hand clutching his head, let out a guttural cry. “Volk! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!” His voice was a thunderous boom, but it carried no strength—only helplessness. His knees buckled, and he fell forward, his head smashing into the ground with a sickening thud. Blood poured from his ears like a waterfall, staining the earth beneath him.

Volk’s sharp gaze darted from one fallen warrior to the next. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He felt something gnawing at him, an invisible weight pressing down on his chest. His heart pounded in his ears, but it wasn’t fear—no, Volk had long since abandoned fear. It was something else, something he couldn’t place.

As more members of his horde succumbed to the invisible force, Volk’s unease grew. There was something off about all of this. The giant… its roars were devastating, yes, but was that it? Was that all it took to dismantle his mighty horde? The realization hit him like a blade to the gut. It was too easy.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the battlefield. Goblins, orcs, ogres—all of them were collapsing one by one, their bodies writhing in pain before finally going still. He watched as the life drained from their eyes, their final gasps escaping their lips. It was horrifying, yes, but it was also… wrong.

“Why… why is it so easy?” Volk muttered to himself, his voice low and filled with suspicion. His eyes darted toward the mist giant, which stood motionless now, its towering form shrouded in the oppressive fog. The giant made no move to attack, no sign of aggression. It simply loomed over them, a silent sentinel.

More of his horde fell. A goblin let out a final, pitiful cry before his body went limp. An orc groaned deeply, his voice breaking as his massive frame crumpled to the ground. An ogre, the last of the titans, let out a thunderous bellow that quickly turned into a gurgle as blood poured from his mouth.

Volk clenched his teeth, his frustration boiling over. “No… no, this doesn’t make sense. It’s too easy! It’s too—” His voice caught in his throat as the last of his horde collapsed. All of them, silent and still, their bodies strewn across the battlefield like broken dolls.

The silence that followed was deafening. Volk stood alone now, the only one left standing. His chest heaved with anger and confusion. “This isn’t right… this isn’t real…” he muttered, his sharp eyes narrowing as he turned his gaze back toward the mist giant.

But then, something changed. The air grew colder, heavier. Volk’s sharp instincts screamed at him, warning him of danger. He felt a presence—a dark, malevolent presence—that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Slowly, he turned his head.

And then he saw it.

A creature stood before him, its form shrouded in shadow and mist. It was massive, its grotesque body supported by eight long, spindly legs that seemed to blend seamlessly with the fog around it. Its face—if it could even be called that—was an unholy amalgamation of sharp mandibles and glowing, soulless eyes that bore into Volk’s very soul.

Volk’s breath hitched. His fists clenched tighter as he stared at the monstrous being. The mist swirled around it, as though it were a part of the creature itself. And then, in the suffocating silence, Volk opened his mouth to speak—but no words came out.

He stood frozen, his mind racing, as the eight-legged monstrosity loomed over him, its many eyes glinting with a sinister intelligence.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep