Strongest Radioactive System

Volk turned back to the Ogres, who had been listening in silence, their simple minds unable to grasp the full weight of what was happening.

"You want to join my horde?" he asked again, his golden eyes locking onto theirs.

The Ogres nodded slowly, their massive heads bobbing like mountains shifting in the wind.

Volk narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not convinced."

He stepped closer, his presence looming over them like a predator stalking its prey.

"If you're serious, then prove it. Are you willing to work? To follow my commands without question?"

The Ogres hesitated, their faces scrunching up in concentration. Finally, they nodded again, their movements clumsy but deliberate.

"Good," Volk said. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of small, metallic objects.

They gleamed faintly in the fading light, their surfaces etched with strange, glowing runes.

Without a word, Volk tossed them toward the Ogres.

The objects landed with a dull clink in the dirt.

The Ogres stared at them, their expressions a mix of curiosity and unease. "Put them on," Volk commanded, his voice brooking no argument.

Slowly, the Ogres picked up the objects, examining them with their massive, calloused hands.

They were shackles, designed to fit around their necks, wrists, and ankles.

The Ogres hesitated, but under Volk's piercing gaze, they began to put them on.

The moment the shackles clicked into place, the air around them shifted.

A faint, invisible force rippled through the clearing, sending a shiver down the spines of everyone present.

The runes on the shackles flared to life, glowing with an eerie, pulsating light.

The Ogres' eyes widened as the energy coursed through their bodies, their massive frames trembling as the phenomenon took hold.

The transformation was subtle at first.

The Ogres' slumped postures straightened, their shoulders squaring as if a great weight had been lifted from them.

Their breathing steadied, the labored wheezing replaced by deep, powerful inhalations.

Their eyes, once dull and unfocused, began to gleam with a newfound clarity.

Then, as if driven by some primal instinct, the Ogres stood tall, their massive forms casting long shadows over the clearing.

They threw their heads back and released a thunderous roar, the sound reverberating through the forest like an earthquake.

It was a sound of defiance, of renewal, of power reborn.

The Orcs watched in stunned silence, their earlier doubts momentarily forgotten.

The Ogres, now brimming with energy, looked stronger, more menacing than ever before.

Yet there was something different about them—a sense of control, of discipline, that had been absent before.

Volk crossed his arms, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Now," he said, his voice cutting through the lingering echoes of the roar, "let's see what you're truly capable of."

Volk's eyes flickered to the glowing system message that hovered just above his line of sight.

The words floated in golden clarity, as if etched into the fabric of the air itself:

Mission!

The host, or the Warchief, was an Orc and an Ogre. The horde would be incomplete without an Ogre.

Mission A: Defeat all the Ogres around. Your adventure continues at empire

Mission B: Enslave all the Ogres.

Mission C: Kill all the Ogres.

Failure: Loss of Horde authority and power-up.

The host has taken Mission A and Mission B: Enslave all the Ogres.

Status: Completed.

Rewards: Shackles of Ogres - Controls the Ogres and shares their magical resistance against magic and hazardous spells with the entire horde.

Volk's golden eyes narrowed slightly as he processed the information.

His gaze dropped to the shackles now adorning the Ogres, their runes still faintly glowing with latent energy.

The chains attached to the shackles dangled loosely, their ends severed, leaving the Ogres free to move. And yet, the effect was undeniable.

These were no longer the unbridled beasts of chaos that had charged recklessly into battle.

These were creatures bound by a higher authority—his authority.

Volk allowed a small, satisfied smile to creep across his face. "Alright," he muttered under his breath, turning his attention to the Ogres. "Let's see what you can do."

Volk stepped forward, his voice booming across the clearing.

"Ogres!" he barked, his tone sharp and commanding.

The newly shackled beasts flinched slightly at the sound, their massive heads turning toward him in unison. "Line up!"

There was a moment of hesitation as the Ogres exchanged confused glances, their simple minds struggling to process the order. But then, almost instinctively, they began to shuffle into a rough line.

Their movements were clumsy at first, their massive bodies bumping into one another as they tried to find their places.

"Straighten up!" Volk snapped, his voice laced with irritation. "Shoulders back! Feet apart! Stand tall!"

The Ogres obeyed, their postures improving with each barked command.

They stood as best as their hulking forms allowed, their broad shoulders squared and their massive feet planted firmly on the ground.

The sight of the towering creatures standing in organized formation sent a ripple of astonishment through the Orcs.

"By the gods," one of the Orcs muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "They're actually listening."

Another Orc nodded, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I've never seen an Ogre take an order in my life. And now… this?"

Volk ignored their murmurs, his focus entirely on the Ogres.

"Good," he said, his tone softening slightly. "Now, we're going to do some drills. Follow my instructions exactly, or there will be consequences. Understood?"

The Ogres grunted their assent, their deep voices rumbling like distant thunder.

"First," Volk began, "raise your arms. Both of them. As high as they'll go."

The Ogres complied, their massive arms lifting skyward.

Their movements were slow and deliberate, their muscles straining as they extended their limbs.

The sight was almost comical—giant, lumbering creatures awkwardly reaching for the sky like children trying to touch the clouds.

"Good. Now lower them. Slowly!" Volk barked.

The Ogres did as they were told, their arms descending with surprising control.

The ground seemed to tremble slightly under the weight of their movements, but they managed to avoid any catastrophic collisions.

"Now squat!" Volk commanded.

The Ogres hesitated, their faces scrunching up in confusion. "Squat… what?" one of them rumbled, its voice slow and gravelly.

"Bend your knees and lower your body!" Volk snapped impatiently. "Like this!" He demonstrated the movement himself, his powerful frame sinking into a low squat.

The Ogres attempted to mimic him, their massive bodies lowering awkwardly toward the ground.

One of them nearly lost its balance, its enormous arms flailing wildly as it struggled to steady itself.

"Keep your weight centered!" Volk shouted. "Don't just drop like a sack of rocks!"

The Ogres adjusted, their movements becoming slightly more controlled.

By the time they managed a proper squat, sweat was already dripping from their foreheads.

The Orcs watched the spectacle with a mix of awe and amusement.

"They're actually doing it," one of them said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"They look ridiculous," another Orc muttered, though there was a hint of admiration in his tone.

"Ridiculous or not," a third Orc chimed in, "they're learning. And fast."

Volk's voice cut through their murmurs. "Enough chatter!" he barked, his gaze snapping to the Orcs.

"Pay attention! This is as much for you as it is for them. Watch how discipline transforms even the most chaotic beings."

Turning back to the Ogres, Volk continued the drill. "Now, run in place! Knees high! Don't stop until I say so!"

The Ogres groaned in protest but obeyed, their massive legs pumping up and down.

The ground shook beneath them, their heavy footsteps creating a rhythmic thud-thud-thud that echoed through the clearing.

"Higher!" Volk shouted, his voice like a whip crack. "I said knees high! Don't slack off!"

The Ogres pushed themselves harder, their knees rising to nearly chest height. Their breaths came in loud, ragged gasps, but they didn't stop.

"Now forward!" Volk commanded. "Charge to that tree and back! Full speed!"

The Ogres lumbered forward, their massive bodies moving with surprising speed.

They crashed through the underbrush like living battering rams, their movements clumsy but powerful.

The Orcs couldn't contain their amazement any longer.

"They're running… like warriors," one of them said, his voice tinged with awe.

"Not just warriors," another Orc added. "Like a disciplined unit. I don't believe it."

Volk allowed himself a small smirk as he watched the Ogres return, their breaths heaving but their movements more coordinated than before. "Good," he said. "Now again. Faster this time!"

The Ogres groaned but obeyed, their determination growing with each command.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

They were learning, adapting, becoming something more than the mindless beasts they had been.

Finally, after countless repetitions of squats, running, and various other drills, Volk raised his hand. "Enough," he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

The Ogres collapsed to the ground, their massive bodies heaving with exhaustion. And yet, there was a glimmer of pride in their eyes, a sense of accomplishment that hadn't been there before.

Volk turned to the Orcs, his expression stern.

"You see now what discipline can achieve. These Ogres were nothing but wild animals a day ago. And now? They're becoming soldiers. Warriors. Members of this horde."

The Orcs nodded reluctantly, their earlier skepticism giving way to begrudging respect.

As Volk looked back at the Ogres, the faint glow of the runes on their shackles caught his eye.

There was a sudden ripple in the air, a subtle but undeniable shift in the energy around them.

The shackles seemed to pulse faintly, their light growing brighter for just a moment.

Then, as if triggered by some unseen force, the Ogres stood up.

Their exhaustion seemed to vanish, replaced by an almost supernatural vitality.

They threw their heads back and released a deafening roar, their voices shaking the very earth beneath them.

Volk smirked, they were going to die if this continued, so with his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Now," he said, his voice cutting through the roar like a blade, "let's rest for now."

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