The ground rumbled beneath their feet as the sound of approaching beasts grew louder.

Tugudug! Tugudug! Tugudug!

The tunnel was alive with anticipation, the very walls vibrating with the energy of the coming battle.

The Orcs of the Dreadmaw Clan, now standing shoulder to shoulder, prepared to meet the onslaught head-on.

“READY! DREADMAW CLAN!”

Their faces were lit with the thrill of combat, and their eyes burned with intensity.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the deafening roar of the approaching horde reached them.

ONGGAAARRRRGGG!! RANGGGAAAANNGRGG!! AAARRNNNGGGHH!!!

Magical beasts, pulsating with arcane energy, spilled from the shadows of the catacomb.

The Dreadmaw Clan Orcs could see their forms were twisted, monstrous creatures with glowing eyes, sharp claws, and crackling energy flowing through their bodies.

Some were large enough to rival the elephants they had fought earlier, while others slithered, their bodies trailing magic like smoke.

The Orcs raised their weapons in unison, and a single battle cry tore through the air like a thunderclap.

“LOK’TAR OGAAAAAAARR!”

The cry echoed throughout the cavern, a sound so primal that even the beasts seemed momentarily staggered by the sheer force of it.

Volk, standing among them, clenched his fists and prepared to leap into the fray. But just as he was about to move forward, Grashk grabbed his arm, his voice urgent.

“Volk! No! You’re fusing with the catacomb, remember? You are the target. Just defend yourself if ever some of them pass through. Let us handle this.”

Volk hesitated for a moment, his instincts screaming at him to fight. But then he nodded, stepping back as the other Orcs surged past him, weapons gleaming.

“Go,” Volk muttered, “show them what true Orcs are made of.”

And then, like a flood of fury and muscle, the Dreadmaw Clan charged forward into the heart of the beast horde.

Bone clubs clanked, and shields smashed as the two forces collided in a symphony of chaos.

…

The battle was like nothing Volk had ever seen.

From his vantage point of the whole center of the catacomb, he could see everything—the wild movements of the beasts, the calculated strikes of the Orcs, and the strange, otherworldly glow of the catacomb’s magic swirling around him.

At first, the Orcs seemed taken aback by the sheer ferocity of the magical beasts.

The creatures were relentless, their attacks imbued with chaotic magical energy, beams of arcane light flashing through the air.

Grashk narrowly dodged a strike from one of the larger beasts, its talon-like claws crackling with energy as it slashed through the air.

Grok’Thar, locked in a struggle with a beast twice his size, grunted, “These beasts… they’re strong!”

But as the Orcs began to push back, something unexpected happened. One of the beasts, a wolf-like creature with glowing fur, snapped at Grashk, its jaws crackling with electricity.

The moment the beast’s teeth made contact, the energy dissipated, as if absorbed into Grashk’s body.

He stood there, wide-eyed for a moment, and then a slow, confident grin spread across his face.

“Their magic… it’s useless!” Grashk shouted, his voice booming with excitement.

The other Orcs, hearing this, began testing the waters.

More beasts lunged at them with their magical abilities, only to find that their attacks did little more than tickle the hardened Orc skin.

Orc after Orc shrugged off magic-infused blows, their laughter growing louder with each failed attempt from the beasts.

One Orc, who had been hit by a bolt of energy that would have incinerated any lesser being, turned to his comrade with a grin. “I barely felt that!”

Another Orc, who had just cut down a beast with a single swing of his axe, bellowed with laughter. “This is amazing! We’re unstoppable!”

The Dreadmaw Clan quickly shifted from cautious fighting to full-on exhilaration.

Their movements became more fluid, their strikes more precise, as they realized just how resilient they had become.

What had started as a grueling fight for survival had turned into an all-out slaughter, and the Orcs reveled in it.

Grashk, cleaving through another beast, looked over at Volk and shouted, “They can’t hurt us, Volk! These beasts are nothing!”

Volk watched, his fists clenched at his sides, the tension within him slowly dissipating as he saw his warriors in action.

The Orcs fought with such ferocity and joy that it was hard not to feel the same surge of adrenaline.

For the first time in a long while, Volk allowed himself to smile.

“Is this the power of the new skin?”

…

The Orcs tore through the beast horde like a tidal wave of muscle and steel.

Each time a beast lunged at them with fangs or claws crackling with energy, it was met with a counter-strike that left it bleeding on the cave floor.

Axes swung, swords stabbed, and with every downed beast, the Orcs grew more and more confident.

“Look at that one!” Rak’gor shouted, pointing at a massive bear-like beast that had tried to ambush them from the side.

“It thought it could sneak up on me! Ha! Foolish creature!” With a mighty swing of his axe, Rak’gor cleaved the beast’s head clean off.

Grok’Thar, wiping blood from his blade, grinned at Grashk. “I never thought fighting could be this fun!”

Grashk, breathing heavily but still grinning, nodded. “It’s like we’ve been reborn. Stronger, faster… I’ve never felt anything like it.”

One of the smaller Orcs, still catching his breath after slaying a beast twice his size, added, “I didn’t even break a sweat! Did you see the way that thing tried to claw me? Hah! Weak!” .net

The Orcs shared laughter, their voices echoing off the walls of the cave. The tension of the battle was gone, replaced with camaraderie and the thrill of victory. They slapped each other on the back, recounting their kills with pride.

“That one tried to bite my arm off!” an Orc said with a chuckle, flexing his arm as if to show how unscathed he was.

“I saw it! Looked like it was chewing on a rock!” another Orc added, his laughter loud and contagious.

Even Volk, standing at the back, felt the weight of the situation lift.

His warriors had not only survived—they had thrived.

Whatever had happened to them in the catacomb, it had made them stronger, more resilient than ever before.

It wasn’t just about survival anymore. This was a revelation.

They had been granted new strength, new power, and they were using it to carve a path through their enemies with ease.

—

As the last of the beasts fell to the ground, the Orcs erupted into cheers, their weapons raised high in triumph.

They gathered together, sharing stories of their exploits with wide grins and hearty laughs.

Rak’gor, his voice booming, shouted, “We’ve become legends this day!”

“We could fight anything now! Bring us more!” another Orc yelled, pounding his chest with pride.

“Magical beasts? Bah! They’re nothing to us now!” Grashk declared, his voice full of pride.

The atmosphere was vibrant, alive with the energy of their victory. The Orcs celebrated openly, their voices filling the cave like a storm.

But just as the cheering reached its peak, a single voice cut through the noise like a dagger.

A deep, unfamiliar feminine voice echoed from the shadows, chilling in its calmness. “A new kind of Orcs?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep