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Volk stood amidst the clearing where the harpies circled above, his imposing figure unyielding even under their mocking gaze. His crimson eyes gleamed with fervor as he raised his voice, projecting authority and unwavering confidence.

"Listen to me, winged hunters of the skies! You look down on us, but I see strength in your kind. I see a future where the harpy people rise higher than ever before, not as scattered bands but as a unified force.

"And I—Volk—offer you that future. Together, we could carve a path of conquest so glorious that your names will echo in the winds for generations!"

He took a step forward, his voice swelling with fervent conviction.

"What do you gain by attacking us? Scraps of fleeting satisfaction? A moment of dominance? I offer you something far greater. A legacy. Power.

"Glory that will transcend the skies you glide through. Together, we could dominate the forests, the mountains, the very heavens themselves!"

Volk clenched his fists, his voice taking on a steel edge.

"Imagine what we could achieve! The harpy people, no longer prey to mere humans or beasts, no longer mocked as scavengers but feared as rulers!

"You could have lands to call your own, riches beyond measure, and the strength to defend it all. All I ask is your cooperation. I promise you victory, prosperity, and respect—things no one else has dared to offer you!"

The harpies above exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from amusement to skepticism.

Slowly, a chorus of mocking laughter began to rise.

One harpy, his feathers tinged with silver and his wings shimmering under the faint light, flew lower, his piercing voice carrying disdain.

"You think we'd believe the words of an orc? Your promises are as empty as your skull, ground-walker! You talk of glory, yet you skulk in caves, hiding like frightened prey. Do you think us fools?"

Another harpy, her plumage a brilliant shade of red, swooped closer, her talons gleaming like polished blades.

"You speak of uniting us, but what could you possibly offer? You're nothing but a desperate brute trying to save his pitiful horde. What makes you think we'd ever ally ourselves with your kind?"

Their laughter intensified, echoing mockingly across the clearing.

They jeered, their words dripping with contempt.

"Glory? From an orc? We might as well ally with worms!" one shouted. "What future can you offer us when your present is so pathetic?" another chimed in, drawing further waves of derisive cackling.

Volk's expression remained steady, though a faint flicker of frustration crossed his features. He straightened his stance, trying to maintain his composure even as their mockery cut deeper.

"Mock me if you will," he said, his voice steady but sharp. "But understand this: you may laugh today, but the winds of fate are unpredictable. If you reject my offer, you may find yourselves regretting it when we rise beyond your reach."

The harpy leader, who had been silent until now, descended further, his wings flapping with deliberate slowness as he locked eyes with Volk.

"You speak boldly for someone who hides in the shadows. But you are mistaken if you think your words can sway us. You presume too much, orc."

His voice grew colder, laced with irritation. "Your arrogance knows no bounds. Do you think we need you? That we, the rulers of the skies, would ever stoop so low as to align with the likes of you?"

The air grew tense as Volk's patience began to waver.

Despite his attempts to maintain control, the harpies' scornful words struck deep. He raised a hand, about to respond, but the harpy leader interrupted with a furious cry.

"Enough of this farce! You dare waste our time with your empty promises? You insult us with your delusions of grandeur! Leave, orc, before we show you why the skies belong to us!"

Volk's resolve cracked under the sheer disdain and hostility.

Realizing the futility of pressing further, he exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging slightly.

He had hoped to avoid further conflict, but their pride and anger were unyielding. For now, there was no choice but to retreat.

Suddenly, standing before the harpy group, Volk's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Are you all sure?" His words carried a weight that made even the leader of the harpies hesitate momentarily.

The leader, a wiry, sharp-eyed male harpy with feathers dark as midnight, scoffed loudly, masking the unease brewing within.

"Of course! What could you possibly do, filthy orc? You've run out of tricks. Do your worst!" The other harpies echoed his laughter, though some shifted uncomfortably.

Volk smiled—a slow, dangerous curl of his lips. "Very well," he said, his tone unnervingly calm.

And then, without warning, his body began to change.

A low, guttural rumble emanated from Volk's chest, growing louder and deeper with every passing second.

His green skin began to darken, taking on an earthy, almost stone-like hue, and his body seemed to expand.

His muscles swelled grotesquely, veins pulsating visibly under his thickening skin.

The harpies watched in mounting disbelief as his transformation began.

His arms grew first, bulging unnaturally, the muscles twisting and contorting as they doubled in size.
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The sound of stretching, tearing flesh and the crack of reshaping bone filled the air.

Volk's hands turned monstrous, each finger extending into thick, brutal claws capable of rending steel.

"What… what is this?!" one of the harpies stammered, her voice trembling.

Volk's legs followed next, elongating and broadening until they resembled the thick, gnarled trunks of ancient trees.

His feet became massive, each step he took causing the ground beneath him to tremble and crack.

The harpy leader took an involuntary step back, his bravado fading.

"You're… not an orc anymore," one of the harpies whispered, her wide eyes fixed on Volk.

The transformation continued relentlessly. His torso expanded, ribs and spine jutting grotesquely as his chest barreled out.

His shoulders broadened to an impossible degree, and the faint, green glow of something primal and raw began to emanate from beneath his skin.

His head tilted back, and with a guttural roar, his face contorted and morphed.

His jaw widened unnaturally, his teeth growing into jagged, ogre-like fangs.

Two small horns erupted from his forehead, curling menacingly upward. His eyes glowed with a fiery orange light, exuding pure, unrestrained power.

The harpies could do nothing but stare, frozen in stunned horror.

Feathers rustled uneasily as a wave of fear swept through the group.

One younger male harpy took a hesitant step backward, his sharp talons scraping against the rocks. "Leader," he whispered, "this… this isn't normal. We should—"

"Silence!" the leader barked, though his voice cracked ever so slightly. He flared his wings defiantly, but the sweat dripping down his temple betrayed his growing fear.

Meanwhile, Volk's transformation reached its zenith. His back arched, massive, jagged spikes erupting along his spine with sickening cracks.

His voice, now a deep, guttural growl, rumbled through the air.

.He stood before them not as an orc but as an ogre—a towering behemoth of pure intimidation.

The sheer size of him was overwhelming. He loomed over the harpies like a living mountain, his every breath sending gusts of hot air toward them.

His claws flexed, and the ground beneath him seemed to shatter with every shift of his weight.

The harpies were no longer laughing.

"What… what have you become?" another harpy choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

Volk grinned, his massive tusks gleaming menacingly. His voice was a deep, resonant growl that sent shivers down their spines. "I've become your reckoning," he said, his tone calm but laced with raw, terrifying power.

The leader gulped audibly but tried to maintain his composure. "You think this changes anything? Numbers are on our side!"

Volk took a slow, deliberate step forward, and the harpies flinched.

His massive clawed hand reached out, grabbing a nearby boulder and crushing it effortlessly in his grip.

Shards of stone rained down, and the sound echoed ominously.

"Are you all really sure?" Volk asked again, his voice quieter now but no less terrifying.

The harpies exchanged uneasy glances, the once-united flock now riddled with doubt.

The oppressive aura emanating from Volk sapped their confidence, and even the leader found himself struggling to respond.

In the heavy silence that followed, Volk stood tall, his monstrous form radiating dominance.

His glowing orange eyes swept over the group, daring them to test his resolve.

The leader clenched his fists, his wings twitching nervously. And yet, even he could not mask the fear creeping into his voice as he growled, "We'll see who stands victorious."

Volk's grin widened. "So be it."