Strongest Radioactive System

The knights exchanged uneasy glances, their fear of the Baron outweighing their terror of the creature above.

Geisler straightened his coat, brushing off imaginary dust as he paced in front of his men. "Do you know what separates us from the monsters we hunt?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with disdain.

The knights remained silent, their eyes following him as he walked.

"Preparation," Geisler continued, his tone sharpening. "Intelligence. Strategy. These are the tools of civilization, the tools of power. And yet, here we are, fumbling in the dirt like peasants, hoping a single scroll would save us from our incompetence."

He stopped abruptly, turning to face his men. "That creature killed my son," he said, his voice rising slightly. "It crushed him like an insect and laughed as it did so. Do you think it will show any of you mercy?"

The knights lowered their heads, shame and fear etched into their faces.

Geisler's lips curled into a sneer. "Pathetic."

He reached into the pouch at his side, pulling out a bundle of rolled parchment tied with golden ribbons.

The knights' eyes widened as they recognized the intricate designs etched into the scrolls—high-level magic, the kind reserved for only the most dire of circumstances.

"My lord…" one of the knights began, his voice shaky. "Are those—"

"Yes," Geisler snapped, cutting him off. "These are not the toys I entrusted to my fool of a son. These are tools of destruction, forged by the finest mages of the kingdom. Tools worthy of dealing with a creature like this."

He unfurled one of the scrolls, the magical symbols glowing faintly in the dim light. The knights recoiled slightly as a wave of energy radiated from it, the sheer power almost tangible.

"But… seven of them?" another knight dared to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Geisler turned to him, his expression cold. "Do you think one will be enough?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "This is not some wild beast you can bring down with arrows and swords. This is a monster—a threat to my barony, to my name, to my legacy."

He rolled the scroll back up with a snap, tucking it securely into his belt. "If I must raze this entire mountain to ash, so be it. Let the creature see the might of a true noble. Let it understand what it means to cross Baron Geisler."

The knights stared at him, a mixture of awe and terror in their eyes.

"My lord," one of them said cautiously. "If these scrolls are used together… the destruction could be—"

"—necessary," Geisler interrupted, his voice hard as steel. "Do you question my judgment, knight? Do you think you know better than I how to avenge my son and protect this barony?"

The knight quickly shook his head, stepping back into the crowd.

Geisler took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Enough talk," he said, his tone final. "Prepare yourselves. We march on that mountain, and we will not stop until that creature lies broken at my feet."

As the knights began to organize, their fear temporarily overshadowed by their leader's commanding presence, Geisler turned his gaze back to the mountain.

He reached down, brushing his fingers over the hilt of his sword. His voice dropped to a near-whisper, but the venom in his words was unmistakable. "Let's see if these scrolls aren't enough to bring that beast to its knees."

Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet trembled again, this time accompanied by a low, ominous rumble. All heads turned toward the mountain as a cascade of boulders began to tumble down the slopes once more.

Geisler smirked. "It knows we're coming."

…

At the summit of the rocky mountain, Volk's deep, guttural laughter echoed through the jagged peaks.

He hurled another boulder down the slope, his grin stretching wide as he imagined the chaos it caused below.

Each throw brought him immense satisfaction. His voice boomed, mocking the humans below.

"Come on! Is that all you've got? You're supposed to be warriors!" he bellowed, his voice filled with mockery. "I am Volk, the Orc! Your arrows? Feh! Your spells? Feh! Bring me a real fight!"

But then, his laughter abruptly stopped. His ears twitched, catching something faint but unusual.

The air around him felt heavy, charged.

A low hum vibrated through the atmosphere, and Volk's keen instincts picked up a sudden shift in the sky. He glanced up, his grin faltering.

Dark clouds had gathered unnaturally fast, swirling above the mountain like a vortex of doom.

The air crackled with energy, and a flash of light illuminated the sky.

A split second later, a thunderous CRACK echoed, and a bolt of lightning slammed into the ground mere feet from where Volk stood.

Volk's grin returned, though it was more cautious this time. "Oh, so now we're playing with storms, huh?" he muttered, flexing his fingers within the radioactive gauntlet.

Before he could taunt further, another bolt struck, this time hitting him square in the shoulder.

The impact jolted him, sending a sharp jolt of pain through his massive frame. He staggered back slightly, shaking off the sting.

"Ha! Is that the best you've got?" he roared, pounding his chest defiantly. "That's nothing! Just a shoulder jab!"

But the storm wasn't done. Another bolt, brighter and more vicious than the last, came down with pinpoint accuracy, slamming into his back.

Volk growled, the pain sharper this time.

A third bolt followed, then a fourth, and then they came in rapid succession.

CRACK! BOOM! CRACKLE!

Each strike sent a wave of searing pain through him, like red-hot needles piercing his thick hide.

Volk gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out, but the relentless assault was beginning to wear him down. His muscles twitched involuntarily, and the faint smell of singed flesh began to waft in the air.

"Alright, this is starting to get annoying," he growled, shaking his head as another bolt slammed into his side, forcing him to one knee.

He glanced at the gauntlet, half-expecting it to shield him somehow, but it offered no reprieve from the storm's wrath.

The sky flashed again, and a massive bolt descended, striking him directly in the chest.

Volk let out a guttural roar, the pain intense enough to make him stumble.

His breathing grew heavier, the electricity coursing through him leaving faint burns along his exposed skin.

"Pain…," he muttered to himself, his voice low and almost contemplative. "This is pain… real pain."

He tried to rise, only for another bolt to strike his leg, forcing him down again.

The mountain shook under the ferocity of the storm, debris tumbling around him.

Volk's mind raced, the unrelenting strikes finally making him consider the gravity of his situation.

"These puny humans…" he muttered, his voice filled with both anger and admiration. "They actually found a way to hurt me."

The bolts showed no sign of stopping, each one more powerful than the last.

Volk could feel the weight of the storm pressing down on him, as if the heavens themselves were trying to crush him.

His breaths came in ragged bursts, his body trembling under the relentless onslaught.

"What should I do now?" he mumbled to himself, glancing around as if the rocky terrain might offer a solution.

His mind, usually consumed by battle lust, was now forced to think. "I ain't gonna dodge these forever… but what's the plan, Volk? You're not dying here. Not to a damn storm."

Another bolt struck him, and Volk clenched his fists, his glowing gauntlet pulsing faintly as if reacting to his frustration. But for the first time in a long while, the mighty Orc was unsure.