The air was thick with a strange, pulsating energy as Volk and the others reached the heart of the dungeon.

They stepped into a vast chamber, and at once, the sight before them sent a chill through the group.

Chack!

The place was crawling with unknown magical monsters, each one pulsating with the eerie glow of hazardous magic particles.

Their forms were grotesque, twisted by the dark magic that flowed through the very air of the dungeon. L

Some had multiple eyes, others bore grotesque claws, and a few floated eerily as if gravity held no sway over them.

But in the middle of it all, standing like a dark monarch over this sea of horrors, was a gigantic winged tiger.

Its fur shimmered with a strange, otherworldly glow, and its wings were black, stretched wide, casting an ominous shadow over the battlefield.

Its eyes gleamed with intelligence and malice, its claws tearing into the stone floor as if it were nothing more than paper.

Grrrrrrrrrr…

For a moment, the Dreadmaw Clan Orcs and Volk stood still, gazing at the sheer enormity of the growling beast. But what was even more surprising was the reaction of the monsters.

Normally, the presence of Volk would send them scurrying away in fear.

His body, contaminated with hazardous magic particles compared to other Labor Orcs, usually acted as a deterrent.

But now… nothing.

The monsters weren’t fleeing. They weren’t even bothered by his presence.

“What the hell is going on?” Grounad muttered, his voice low as his eyes darted across the chamber, filled with beasts.

Before anyone could answer, the gigantic tiger let out a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the dungeon.

GRRROOOOOAAAAARRRRRR!!

The sound reverberated through the stone walls, causing dust to fall from the ceiling. Then, in an instant, the tiger pounced forward, slashing into the creatures around it with terrifying ferocity.

The monsters, to everyone’s shock, started attacking the tiger in return.

Kabang! Kabang! Kabang!

The battle that unfolded in front of them was brutal and wild.

The tiger’s massive claws ripped through the lesser creatures as though they were paper, but the other monsters also retaliated in kind.

Spells crackled in the air, claws and fangs clashed, and the air was filled with the sound of tearing flesh and monstrous roars.

It was chaos.

Volk and the Dreadmaw Clan Orcs watched, frozen.

Yet he didn’t know why, but something inside his head stirred.

His muscles tensed as if his body was moving on its own, compelled by some unseen force.

Before he even realized it, he charged forward, his weapon raised, and joined the fray, fearlessly.

“LOK’TAR OGAAAAAAARR!!!” he screamed for some unknown reason.

The moment Volk’s axe struck the first monster, the dungeon exploded with action. His movements were sharp and precise, each swing of his weapon calculated as it cleaved through the flesh of the magical beasts.

The air around him crackled with the residual magic particles, but Volk didn’t care. He was focused solely on the battle.

Grounad, Grashk, and the rest of the Dreadmaw Clan would look at each other but also followed suit.

Feeling the strange feeling that Volk felt.

They charged into the horde of monsters, their weapons flashing as they fought with the efficiency of battle-hardened warriors.

“LOK’TAR OGAAAAAAARR!!!”

They moved in perfect sync, dodging and weaving through the attacks of the monsters with practiced ease.

Each one of them struck with precision, cutting down the beasts with ruthless efficiency.

The winged tiger, however, was a different story. It moved with terrifying speed, its claws slashing through the air with a strength that sent shockwaves through the ground.

It let out another deafening roar, with its wings beating fiercely as it leapt into the air, crashing down on a cluster of monsters, crushing them under its massive paws.

For a moment, Volk found himself face-to-face with the beast.

Its glowing eyes locked onto his, and he could feel the intensity of its malice. But instead of fear, something inside him stirred—a primal rage.

“COME OOOO!!!”

His grip tightened on his axe, and without hesitation, he lunged at the tiger.

His weapon met the creature’s side, but instead of cleaving through it, his axe bounced off the beast’s hide, sending a shockwave through his arms.

“Damn it!”

Volk cursed, staggering back from the force of the recoil.

The tiger growled, baring its massive fangs, before lunging at him.

Volk barely had time to dodge as the tiger’s claws slashed through the space where he had just been standing.

He rolled to the side, quickly getting back to his feet, his eyes darting around for an opening.

“VOLK, WATCH OUT!” Grashk yelled from behind him, his own blade sinking into the flesh of another monster. Volk nodded, focusing on the tiger once more.

The battle raged on, but the tiger’s strength, while formidable, couldn’t match the combined might of the Dreadmaw Clan.

Each time the tiger tried to strike, an Orc was there to deflect or evade, their coordination honed by years of combat.

They struck at the tiger’s legs, wings, and sides, slowly whittling away at its strength.

It was a methodical assault, each strike precise and deliberate.

Though the tiger was powerful, it was no match for the Dreadmaw warriors working in unison. And soon, the beast began to falter.

With a final, mighty swing, Volk brought his axe down on the tiger’s head.

KABAG!!

The creature let out one last roar before collapsing to the ground, its massive body thudding heavily against the stone floor.

The remaining monsters, perhaps emboldened by the tiger’s fall, attempted to attack. But they were weak.

Wounded and disoriented, the creatures were no match for the Orcs, who dispatched them with ease.

Breathing heavily,

Volk stood over the fallen body of the winged tiger, his brow furrowed. He should have felt victorious, but something gnawed at him.

Something was wrong.

The entire battle had felt… too easy.

The others didn’t seem to notice, their faces filled with satisfaction as they wiped the blood from their weapons.

Grounad approached Volk, shaking his head in amazement. “That was incredible, Volk. I’ve never fought something like that before.”

Volk nodded, his expression distant. “Yeah. But…” He trailed off, his instincts screaming that something wasn’t right. He scanned the chamber, but nothing seemed out of place.

The monsters were dead, the tiger defeated, and the crystal they had come for stood undisturbed in the center of the room.

Yet still, the uneasy feeling in his chest wouldn’t go away. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “It’s nothing.”

Ignoring the pit in his stomach, Volk turned and made his way toward the crystal.

The Dreadmaw Clan watched in silence as he approached the glowing stone, its surface shimmering with power.

Without hesitation, he pulled out a dagger, slicing open his palm. Blood dripped onto the crystal, the dark red liquid seeping into its surface.

The crystal pulsed for a moment, and then a faint hum filled the air.

Volk stepped back, his gaze fixed on the crystal.

For now, it seemed that the danger had passed. But even as he watched the crystal absorb his blood, that feeling of unease remained, lurking at the back of his mind.

There was something he wasn’t seeing.

Something still waiting in the shadows.

What could it be and where would it be?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep