Strongest Radioactive System

Volk stood over the remains of Zenveil, his chest heaving with labored breaths, with his mind also clouded in a haze of rage.

He could feel his muscles were swollen with unnatural power, they were pulsating with radioactive energy that coursed through his veins, wildly.

He looked down at the mangled, splattered remains of Zenveil, his half-body crushed into the ground like pulp, the three heads of the monstrous dog flattened beneath Volk's relentless strikes.

There was nothing left but the twitching remains of Zenveil's final heart, still beating faintly amidst the destruction he caused to its whole body.

Immediately, Volk's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles cracked audibly and splitting the air around absentmindedly.

His teeth were bared in an uncontrollable snarl as his mind wanted him to rampage!

GRRRRRR….

He should have been satisfied. The Warlock was defeated, destroyed utterly, but inside, all Volk could feel was rage.

"VOOOOOOLLLKKKKK" Volk radioactive form roared, and his voice echoed violently like a thunderclap through the crumbling catacombs.

His chest vibrated with the force of it, but no amount of screaming seemed to quell the storm within him.

He didn't understand why he was so angry.

Everything was supposed to be over.

He should have felt victorious.

Volk should be the winner—right?

However, instead, he felt a deep, crawling dissatisfaction in his spine, and it was too slow, making him felt an endless feeling of irritation.

A primal fury that only seemed to grow stronger the more he thought about what had just happened.

His body trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the unrelenting wave of frustration that surged through him.

"Why did I hesitate earlier?" he growled to himself inside his head, his eyes narrowing as he replayed the battle in his mind.

That hesitation earlier, that fear...

It had gripped him like a vice.

For a moment, he'd felt weak—like he was back on Earth, crippled, powerless, helpless.

The sensation made him want to tear the world apart.

He had doubted himself, doubted his power.

He had let fear creep into his heart when he should have trusted the system that gave him strength.

"What is that fear?! What is that hesitation!?" he bellowed. His voice cracked, reverberating through the nervous system.

His fists shook, trembling with unspent fury.

He should have embraced his power from the start.

He should have relished in it, unleashed it without restraint.

Instead, he had let Zenveil make him doubt himself, and now, as he stood over the Warlock's ruined body, all he felt was disgust.

"SMAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSHHHHHH!!!!"

Volk roared again, louder this time, his voice echoing with such intensity that the walls around him trembled.

Cracks spider-webbed further up the cavern's ceiling as if the sheer force of his voice could bring the whole structure down.

Meanwhile, Zenveil, clutching his last heart, barely clinging to life, trembled in disbelief.

He lay sprawled amidst the remains of the three-headed beast, his mind reeling. "How is this possible...?" he muttered, his voice weak and broken.

His eyes flickered with disbelief. "He awakened mutation phase four times...!"

Zenveil's voice became a raspy whisper, barely audible. "It... it shouldn't be possible. No one... no one evolves that many times... not even by luck!"

His trembling fingers dug into the flesh of his dying heart, desperately trying to hold on to whatever semblance of life he had left.

But then, he heard Volk's voice again, louder, more monstrous than ever.

"AAARRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

Zenveil's heart lurched in his chest.

The ground shook violently, a force beyond comprehension.

He tried to crawl away, his broken body dragging itself futilely across the ground, hoping to survive, hoping to escape—anywhere, even if it's only a one percent chance, he wanted to.

Even though he knew, deep down, it was too late.

"NOOO!!!" Zenveil screamed, "THIS ISN'T WHAT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!!! WE ARE YOUR MASTERS!!! IN THE HISTORY AND NOW, NO WARLOCK COULD BE BEATEN BY HIS CREATION, NEVER!!!!!" but his cry was cut short.

However, Volk's growl was heard.

"TIIIIIIIIME'S CHAAAAAAAANGED WARLOCCCKK SMAAAAALLL!!!!!!!"

Volk's fist came crashing down, slamming into Zenveil's remains with the force of a mountain.

KABAM!

The Warlock's remaining heart shattered instantly, his body immediately turned into nothing more than a smear of blood and flesh on the cold, hard ground.

The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the cave, causing the walls to tremble even more violently.

Stones tumbled from the ceiling as the ground quaked under Volk's wrath.

But Volk wasn't done. Not even close.

He raised his fists again, the rage still coursing through him like wildfire.

He didn't care about strategy or tactics anymore.

His mind was blank with fury.

He slammed his fists into the ground repeatedly, over and over again, with no care for the destruction he was causing.

"BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!"

Each impact made the entire catacomb shake as if the very earth was protesting the sheer force of his blows.

The ground beneath Zenveil's remains crumbled further, pulverized into dust and debris.

The rocks above groaned, and the walls around him seemed on the verge of collapse, but Volk didn't care.

He couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop.

Meanwhile, in a little far section of the catacombs, Lhum'Baggar, Grashk, Grok'Thar, and the rest of the Dreadmaw Clan Orcs were wide awake now, their eyes wide with disbelief.

They had felt the tremors, heard the thunderous crashes, and now they knew what was happening.

It was Volk.

Their leader was the one battling in the depths of the cave.

And his opponent?

Warlock Zenveil.

The very Warlock who had taken control of the dungeon boss, a monstrous, three-headed creature, a descendant of the legendary Cerberus, named Dozer.

The Orcs exchanged nervous glances as the walls shook violently around them.

They could barely comprehend the power they were witnessing.

"BAM! BAM! BAM!"

The sounds of Volk's fists smashing the ground echoed through the halls, each one sending a fresh jolt of terror through the group.

Grashk, always the boldest of them, was the first to speak. His voice shook with awe and disbelief. "It's... it's Volk... he's fighting the Warlock..."

The other Orcs looked at each other, confusion and fear in their eyes.

They didn't understand how Volk had become so massive, so powerful. But what they did understand was clear: Volk had defeated the Warlock.

"LEADER IS THE STRONGEST!" Grashk suddenly bellowed, his voice filled with raw admiration. "VOLK IS VICTORIOUS!!!"

The other Orcs hesitated for only a moment before their voices joined Grashk's in a chorus of cheers.

"VOLK IS VICTORIOUS!!!"

"THE WARLOCK SLAYER!!!"

Their shouts echoed through the catacombs, their cheers rising like a wave of thunder. They banged their fists against their chests in unison, their voices growing louder with each passing second.

"LEADER IS THE STRONGEST!!!"

"VOLK IS VICTORIOUS!!!"

Volk, still trembling with rage, paused for a moment as the sound of the cheers reached his ears.

He turned, his massive frame casting a dark shadow over the remaining Orcs.

They stood there, staring up at him, their eyes filled with awe.

For a moment, Volk was speechless.

He had been so consumed by his fury, by the chaos of battle, that he had forgotten there were others here. And now, as he stood over the shattered remains of Zenveil, his rage slowly began to ebb.

He raised his hand, almost hesitantly, and turned toward the cheering Orcs.

Then, with a voice filled with a strange mixture of disbelief and pride, he shouted, "VOOOLLLLKK IIIISSS VICTORIOUUUUUSSSSS!!!!"

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