Strongest Radioactive System

Chapter 269 Here I go!



High above the battlefield, Volk floated, suspended in the endless expanse of the blue sky.

His massive, grotesque form—a blend of raw muscle and unnatural energy—seemed to consume the space around him.

His radioactive Ogre-like body radiated an eerie green hue, casting a faint glow on the clouds that drifted lazily around him.

The air sizzled faintly with his presence, a reminder of the raw, devastating power he now held.

His elongated limbs, each rippling with grotesque strength, stretched outward, and his enormous, twisted frame looked almost serene against the tranquil backdrop of the heavens.

Volk's glowing eyes narrowed as he stared into the distance, his thoughts racing.

The system's punishment after fighting the undead monarch still echoed in his mind, an ever-present reminder of his limitations.

"The radioactive state is restricted until specific conditions are met..."

Volk clenched his massive fists, his nails digging into his palms as his frustration surged.

When the punishment had first been imposed, he'd believed it would take an eternity to regain the full extent of his abilities.

A slow, painstaking process of rebuilding his strength, perhaps over years, or even decades. Yet now...

He grinned savagely, the thought forming a plan as sharp as the clouds slicing across his field of vision.

Every human death seemed to chip away at the system's restrictions.

Every fallen body brought him closer to liberation.

"Kill humans... regain power..."

What if he didn't stop there? What if he eradicated not just the humans on this battlefield, but every last one in the Orzaroth realm?

The idea burned in his mind like an ember catching fire. His grin widened, exposing jagged teeth as he considered the implications.

"If there are no humans in this world," he mused aloud, his voice deep and resonant, carrying an almost divine timbre in the open sky, "then does that mean my power won't come back?"

He entertained the thought further.

What if he became a force of extinction, an entity that wiped clean the stain of humanity from the Orzaroth realm entirely?

The system had imposed rules, yes, but rules were meant to be broken—twisted to his advantage.

He tilted his head, pondering with a kind of brutal curiosity. If there were no humans, would the system itself collapse? Would he transcend its boundaries? Become something more than what even it could comprehend?

Or perhaps... perhaps there was something even greater at stake.

Volk's glowing eyes shifted toward the infinite blue above him, his massive chest expanding as he inhaled deeply.

What if this punishment wasn't about humanity?

What if this realm—this entire lower plane—was a test, and his ascension was inevitable?

What if his mission wasn't merely to regain his power but to prove himself worthy of a higher existence?

"Destroy them all," he murmured to himself, the words vibrating through his radioactive form.

His thoughts took darker turns.

Could he reshape Orzaroth itself?

Rule it with his horde?

Turn this lower plane into a kingdom of ash and bone, free of humanity and brimming with his loyal Orcs and Ogres?

He could almost hear the laughter of the system in the back of his mind, mocking him for his ambitions, but Volk ignored it. He would twist its game.

A savage glint entered his eyes as his gaze shifted downward, piercing through the haze of smoke that blanketed the battlefield.

Below, the battlefield churned with chaos.

The humans were scrambling, their mages exhausting themselves to dispel the persistent fog.

His shamans had done their work well.

Neither the humans nor the Orcs could see him now, hidden as he was within the sky and the smoke.

"This," Volk rumbled, his voice carrying an ominous weight, "this is my plan. A smokescreen for their doom."

He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction.

The humans would not see him coming.

Neither would his own forces, sparing them the fear of witnessing his radioactive form.

It was better this way. His horde would continue their relentless attack, ignorant of the monster looming above, ready to unleash annihilation upon their enemies.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Volk flexed his immense limbs, his form pulsating with the greenish glow of radioactive energy.

The system's grip on him was weakening with every human that fell. Soon, he would be free. Free to crush, to destroy, to ascend.

"This is how it ends," he growled, his grin widening into a maniacal smile. "No one survives. No one lives to speak of this day."

With a final glance at the sky—a silent promise to himself that this would not be the last time he gazed down from such heights—Volk shifted his focus back to the battlefield.

He crouched midair, his bulging muscles coiling with potential energy, and spread his massive arms wide, his radioactive glow intensifying.

"I'll make this quick," Volk declared to the empty sky, his voice brimming with anticipation. "And then, I'll take it all back."

With a deafening roar that split the heavens, Volk slashed through the air with his enormous claws, sending a ripple of power cascading around him.

His radioactive aura crackled and hissed as he descended rapidly, slicing through the smoke with an unrelenting force.

The clouds seemed to part for him, as though bowing before his might.

The battlefield grew closer, the chaotic sounds of war swelling in his ears.

As Volk hurtled toward the ground, his grin turned feral.

As Volk descended through the air, his massive form cutting through the haze of smoke like a god of destruction, his right hand began to tighten into a fist.

It was a simple motion, but it radiated an unimaginable sense of menace.

His muscles bulged grotesquely, veins glowing with a sickly green light as radioactive energy began to converge in his palm.

The energy came slowly at first, swirling lazily around his hand in wisps of glowing green mist, but it rapidly became more aggressive.

Crackling tendrils of power lashed outward, colliding with the surrounding air and creating a high-pitched zzzzzt! that echoed ominously.

The air itself seemed to ripple and distort as the power intensified, and the convergence of radioactive magic within his grasp began to form a concentrated orb.

It pulsed rhythmically, like a second heart, beating louder and stronger with each passing moment.

THUMP.

The orb grew denser.

THUMP.

The glow became blinding, turning the green mist into a searing, neon beacon.

The sound of the battlefield below—war cries, clashing weapons, screams of pain—seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the sheer presence of the growing energy in Volk's hand.

His clenched fist was now at the center of a swirling maelstrom of radioactive magic, and every fiber of his being poured into feeding its hunger.

As his descent slowed, Volk's hand trembled, not with weakness, but with the overwhelming intensity of the force he held.

The orb of power in his grasp expanded and contracted erratically, its surface roiling with unstable energy, as if threatening to explode prematurely.

The smoke screen below thinned slightly, revealing glimpses of the battlefield, but even the hardened warriors and mages on both sides faltered.

All eyes were drawn upward to the figure of Volk, his radioactive form glowing brighter and brighter against the backdrop of the sky.

The orb was no longer just energy—it was pressure.

An oppressive force that seemed to crush the very air around it.

It was as if Volk had captured a fragment of the sun itself, condensed it, and then demanded it obey his will.

The ground beneath him began to tremble, the vibrations radiating outward in ever-widening circles.

Volk's lips curled into a cruel grin as he growled through clenched teeth: "Nuclear..."

His voice was deep and resonant, carrying with it a weight that seemed to anchor the battlefield itself.

The word hung in the air, heavy and ominous, sending chills down the spines of everyone who heard it.

The radioactive energy in his fist flared violently, the orb growing impossibly bright and then dimming in an erratic rhythm.

It screamed with raw, unrelenting power, vibrating at a frequency that seemed to resonate within the very bones of those who dared to watch.

As he drew closer to the ground, his descent slowed further, each second stretching into an eternity.

The closer he got, the tighter his fist became, and the orb of energy responded by compressing further, its surface now smooth, glowing, and impossibly dense.

The pulsing light in his hand turned sharper, the glow no longer just green but tinged with hues of gold and crimson.

The battlefield below seemed to hold its breath.

Even the mages, distracted by their own struggle to clear the smoke, faltered as they felt the raw magical fluctuations rippling through the air.

Volk's grin widened, and his voice boomed again, louder this time, reverberating across the battlefield.

"ECHOOOOO!"

The word was a promise, a declaration of the devastation to come.

The orb in his hand pulsed in sync with the final syllable, its energy swelling to the brink of containment.

The ground beneath him began to crack, spiderweb fractures forming even before he landed.

Each tremor grew more violent, sending shockwaves across the battlefield as if the earth itself was trembling in anticipation of what was about to come.

As Volk approached mere feet from the ground, the intensity of the energy in his fist reached its peak.

The greenish glow was now an unbearable radiance, casting everything in a sickly light and burning itself into the eyes of those who dared to look.

The orb seemed alive, writhing and snarling like a caged beast desperate to be unleashed.

Volk opened his mouth, his voice rising to a deafening crescendo, shaking the very air around him.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOMB!"

And with that final roar, Volk's fist slammed into the earth. Your next journey awaits at empire

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