Strongest Radioactive System

As the colossal bird's lifeless body lay sprawled across the battlefield, the heavy silence that followed its defeat was broken by a soft ding. Volk's crimson eyes flicked upward as a translucent screen materialized before him, its glowing letters floating mid-air.

Congratulations!

You have defeated the Titan Harpy Guardian!

The words felt almost mocking, their sterile cheer contrasting sharply with the brutal battle that had just unfolded. Volk's eyes narrowed as he scanned the rest of the notification.

Rewards unlocked:

- Aerial Assault Goblins (50 units)

A muscle in his jaw twitched. Goblins? he thought. The horde had endured a harrowing fight, losing blood and sweat against a towering beast, and this was their reward? He quelled the surge of irritation that rose in his chest. For now, he needed to focus.

The notification vanished as Volk turned back to his horde. The Ogres and Orcs were spread out across the battlefield, panting heavily, their weapons slick with the bird's strange, black ichor. Despite their exhaustion, they stood tall, waiting for their leader's next command.

"What now, Leader?" an Orc called out, his voice hoarse but steady. His question rippled through the group, their gazes locking onto Volk with anticipation.

Volk sheathed his blade in one smooth motion, his eyes scanning the rocky terrain. "There are goblins in this area," he said, his voice firm, brooking no doubt. "They are part of our reward for slaying this beast. We will find them."

"But where are they?" another Orc grumbled, glancing nervously at the bird's carcass. "We've seen no sign of them."

"Search the area," Volk ordered sharply. His voice cut through the murmurs of uncertainty. "Goblins are resourceful creatures. They may be hiding. Spread out and look. And remember—do not harm them. They are ours now. Bring any you find back to me."

The horde grunted their acknowledgment, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as they moved into action. Ogres lumbered toward the jagged cliffs, their heavy steps leaving deep impressions in the dirt. Orcs fanned out across the battlefield, their keen eyes scanning the rocky crevices and shadowy alcoves.

Volk remained where he was, his gaze following his warriors as they dispersed. His sharp mind churned with possibilities. Where would goblins hide in a place like this?

---

The search began in earnest.

An Ogre named Goruk led his group to the edge of a narrow ravine. The steep drop was lined with jagged rocks, and the faint sound of trickling water echoed from below. "Check the crevices," Goruk rumbled, gesturing to the narrow ledges along the ravine's walls.

The Orcs in his group obeyed without question, leaning precariously over the edge to peer into the shadows. One of them, a wiry female named Kraa, squinted at a dark recess just below the lip of the ravine. "There's something here," she muttered, her voice barely audible over the wind. She reached down cautiously, her fingers brushing against the rough stone.

But as her hand probed deeper, she found nothing but empty air. With a frustrated growl, she pulled back and shook her head. "False lead," she spat.

Goruk grunted in acknowledgment, his heavy brow furrowing. "Keep looking," he said, his tone grim.

---

Elsewhere, a group of Orcs combed through the rocky outcroppings near the battlefield. Their sharp eyes scanned every shadow, their hands prying apart loose rocks and shifting piles of debris.

"Anything?" one of them asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Nothing," another replied, shaking his head. He kicked a small rock aside, his frustration evident in the sharpness of his movements.

"Goblins don't just vanish," the first Orc muttered, his eyes narrowing as he looked around. "They must be here somewhere."

---

The hours dragged on, and the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The Horde regrouped near Volk, their expressions a mixture of frustration and fatigue.

"Leader," Goruk rumbled, his deep voice filled with resignation. "We've searched everywhere. There's no sign of goblins."

The Orcs echoed his sentiment, their voices a cacophony of frustration.

Volk's crimson eyes burned as he looked out over the battlefield. His warriors' reports were consistent—despite their exhaustive search, they had found nothing. But Volk refused to believe it. The notification had been clear. The goblins were here.

"There should be goblins here," he said, his voice low but sharp, cutting through the crowd's murmurs. "Keep searching!"

His words carried an edge of finality, and though the Horde hesitated, they obeyed. With grunts of acknowledgment, they fanned out once more, their movements slower now, weighed down by fatigue.

Volk remained where he was, his gaze fixed on the ground. His mind churned with frustration and doubt. Could the system be wrong? No. It never is.

Just as the weight of uncertainty threatened to settle over him, a faint sound reached his ears.

Sniffle… hic… sniffle.

Volk's sharp hearing caught the weak, pitiful cries. He froze, his crimson eyes narrowing as he focused on the sound. It was faint, almost imperceptible amidst the rustling wind and distant echoes of the horde's search. But it was there.

He turned his head slowly, his gaze locking onto the direction of the sound. It was coming from near the rocky crevice where the giant bird had emerged earlier.

Without a word, Volk moved. His steps were silent but purposeful as he approached the area, his heart pounding in his chest. The faint cries grew louder as he drew closer, each sniffle and whimper pulling him forward like a thread.

He stopped just short of the crevice, his eyes narrowing as he peered into the shadows. The cries were coming from within.

Volk's jaw tightened. He gripped the hilt of his sword, his sharp instincts telling him to remain cautious. And yet, something about the sound—so weak, so helpless—made him hesitate.

He stepped closer, his crimson eyes scanning the darkness. The faint cries continued, growing softer now, as if whatever was making them had sensed his presence.

Volk took a deep breath, steeling himself. And then, without hesitation, he stepped into the crevice, the shadows swallowing him whole.

He descended further into the narrow crevice, his heavy boots crunching against the loose gravel underfoot.

The weak cries guided him like a haunting melody, growing louder yet still faint, echoing off the cold, damp stone walls.

The air grew cooler as he moved deeper, the faint smell of earth and decay wafting into his nostrils. His crimson eyes, sharp and piercing in battle, were of little use here in the overwhelming darkness. Shadows crowded in on all sides, the faint light from above barely penetrating this forgotten place.

The cries continued, fragile and pitiful, tugging at something deep within him. Volk stopped in his tracks, his hand brushing against the rough stone wall for balance. He strained his ears to pinpoint the sound, but the echo distorted its location. His sharp mind raced. What's down here? Could it really be goblins? Or something worse?

Volk straightened, his imposing frame taking up much of the confined space. With a low growl of frustration, he called out, his voice deep and commanding, reverberating through the narrow cavern. Stay connected through empire

"Horde! Bring me torches!"

His voice traveled up the crevice, reaching the horde above. After a moment of muffled voices and hurried footsteps, a few Orcs appeared at the edge of the opening, peering down into the darkness.

"Leader?" one of them called. "Are you alright?"

"I said torches," Volk barked, his tone brooking no delay. "I need light down here. Now!"

The Orcs exchanged a quick glance, then rushed off to gather what he'd demanded. Moments later, one of them reappeared, carefully lowering a lit torch into the crevice using a makeshift rope of leather straps. The flickering flame illuminated the narrow walls, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to shift and writhe like phantoms. Volk grabbed the torch and held it high, the warmth and light pushing back the oppressive darkness.

The faint cries came again, this time clearer, leading him further into the depths. He stepped cautiously, his movements deliberate as he scanned the dimly lit space. The light from the torch revealed jagged rocks and patches of dried moss clinging to the damp walls. The floor was uneven, scattered with small bones and scraps of unidentifiable refuse.

And then, he saw them.

Huddled in the far corner of a shallow alcove were goblins. Their small, wiry forms were curled in on themselves, pressed tightly together as though trying to disappear into the stone. Their skin, a sickly green, was marred with cuts and bruises, and their bony limbs trembled visibly even in the low light. They looked emaciated, their ribs stark against their thin frames.

Volk's crimson eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. There were five of them, no more than scraps of life, their wide, glowing eyes staring back at him with a mixture of fear and desperation. One of them—a youngling, by the looks of it—let out another weak cry, its voice cracking.

The sound was pitiful, almost unbearable.

The goblins recoiled as Volk stepped closer, their small hands covering their faces or clutching at each other. They pressed themselves further into the corner, as if trying to meld with the cold stone to escape his towering presence.

Volk stopped a few feet away, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow over the trembling group. He crouched slightly, lowering the torch so its light bathed the goblins more clearly. They flinched, their fear palpable in the tense air.

For a long moment, he said nothing, his sharp gaze assessing them. So this is what's left of the so-called reward, he thought bitterly. Their pitiful state stirred a mixture of emotions within him—disgust, pity, and a simmering anger. It wasn't directed at them, but at the creature that had done this to them.

The realization came to him like a thunderclap. The bird.

His crimson eyes darkened as the pieces fell into place. These goblins had been prey. The giant bird hadn't just been a guardian—it had been a predator, using this dark, forgotten space as its larder. These goblins had been nothing more than food, waiting to be consumed.

"By the gods…" he muttered under his breath. The torchlight flickered as his grip tightened on its handle.

One of the goblins whimpered, drawing his attention back to them. Their fear was like a physical weight pressing against him, their trembling forms so fragile they seemed on the verge of breaking. Volk took a deep breath, steadying himself. He couldn't let his anger show—not now.

He straightened, towering over the goblins but keeping his movements slow and deliberate. His deep voice, usually commanding and sharp, softened slightly as he addressed them.

"You don't have to be afraid," he said, his tone steady but not unkind. The goblins didn't respond, their wide eyes darting between him and the torch.

Volk knelt, setting the torch on the ground beside him so its light was less harsh. He rested his forearm on his knee, lowering himself to their level without coming too close. "The bird is dead," he said firmly. "It can't hurt you anymore."

The goblins exchanged wary glances, their movements hesitant and small. One of them—a slightly larger one that seemed to act as their leader—lifted its head just enough to peer at him. Its glowing yellow eyes were filled with suspicion and a flicker of hope.

"I killed it," Volk continued, his voice resolute. "It won't hurt you again. None of them will."

The larger goblin blinked, its trembling slowing slightly as it processed his words. The others remained huddled, their fear deeply ingrained.

Volk shifted slightly, ensuring he wasn't blocking their only escape route. "You've been through enough," he said, his voice low and even. "But you're safe now. You have my word."

The larger goblin hesitated, then took a tentative step forward. Its movements were slow, cautious, as though expecting Volk to lash out. But Volk remained still, his sharp gaze unwavering but not hostile.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said simply. "I want to help you."

The larger goblin stopped a few paces away, its bony hands clutching at its sides. Its glowing eyes searched Volk's face for any sign of deceit. Volk held its gaze, his expression steady and serious.

Slowly, the goblin nodded, a tiny, tentative gesture that seemed to signal its acceptance.

The others began to stir, their wide eyes flickering with something other than fear. One by one, they moved closer, their small forms huddling together as they cautiously approached him.

Volk didn't move, allowing them to come to him at their own pace. The torchlight danced across their battered faces, highlighting their gaunt features and the scars that marked their skin. They were pitiful to look at, their suffering etched into every line of their bodies.

When they finally reached him, the larger goblin spoke, its voice weak and raspy. "You… you killed the bird?"

Volk nodded once, his expression firm. "Yes."

The goblin swallowed hard, its thin frame shaking as it whispered, "Thank you."

Volk didn't reply immediately. Instead, he reached out slowly, his massive hand open and unthreatening. The larger goblin hesitated, then placed its tiny, trembling hand in his.

"You're with me now," Volk said, his voice carrying a weight of finality. "No one will hurt you again."

The goblins nodded, their movements small but filled with a fragile hope. For the first time, Volk saw a glimmer of trust in their eyes.

As the flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the walls, Volk stood, his towering frame a shield against the darkness. His crimson eyes flicked toward the spot where the bird had emerged earlier, a grim determination settling over his features.

"Stay close," he said, his voice steady.

And with that, he turned, leading the way back toward the small cave where the giant bird's reign had begun.