Strongest Radioactive System

Chapter 280: Horn



Volk marched at the head of the column, his enormous, hulking frame cutting through the forest like an unstoppable force.

The Orcs and Ogres followed in orderly silence behind him, their synchronized steps a steady drumbeat, almost hypnotic in its rhythm.

For a while, everything felt… still.

Volk couldn't quite describe it. A strangeness lingered in the air, a feeling he couldn't shake.

It wasn't the gnawing sensation from before.

That maddening itch—the weight of unseen eyes—had vanished as abruptly as it came.

Now, in its place, there was something else. Something… tranquil.

Peace.

Volk's radioactive energy, which had been flaring and rippling in angry bursts moments before, softened into a quiet glow.

The forest, once oppressive and suffocating, now felt… calm. The air felt lighter.

Even the rhythmic thud of boots against dirt became softer, less menacing. For the first time in what felt like ages, Volk's thoughts weren't clawing at the edges of his mind.

Volk frowned slightly, his sharp teeth clenching and unclenching as he mulled over the sensation.

Peace?

It was something he knew but chose to forget. Now, he believed is shouldn't be something that he should had ever allowed himself to feel.

For Volk, there should always be violence now.

Rage.

Power.

A leader. A conqueror. A destroyer.

And yet, here he was, walking beneath a canopy of ancient trees, the soft glow of light filtering through the branches.

The air was still.

The world was still. It was as if the very forest had breathed out a long-held sigh, and the weight of all that had transpired—Gerhardt's fall, the clash of mages, the System's silent pressure—simply… melted away.

Volk didn't trust it.

He cast a glance over his shoulder.

The Orcs and Ogres marched with perfect discipline, their focus unwavering, but even they seemed different.

Their faces, hardened and war-worn, looked strangely at ease.

Their breathing was steady. Their eyes were calm. Volk's glowing gaze flickered back to the path ahead.

"Peace," he muttered to himself, the word bitter on his tongue. He spat it out like bile. "Why does it feel like a trap?"

And yet… the feeling persisted.

The trees stretched endlessly around them, their branches swaying gently, as though cradling the world in a delicate embrace.

Leaves drifted lazily from above, spinning in the quiet air before settling on the ground.

Even the sounds of nature—birds chirping, the rustle of unseen creatures—seemed muted, distant, like echoes in an empty hall.

Volk's steps slowed just a fraction, his massive boots sinking slightly into the soft earth. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the cool, clean air.

The stillness was… soothing. For the first time, Volk realized how tired he felt.

Not physically—his body was a forge of raw strength and radioactive energy—but in his mind.

His thoughts, always sharp and buzzing with purpose, now floated aimlessly, like leaves drifting on a calm river.

It was so unnatural.

His brow furrowed deeply as his glowing eyes narrowed at the trees around him. The peace was a trick, it had to be. Nothing in his world was ever this still. This quiet. This… gentle.

"What is this feeling?" he growled to himself. His voice, low and gravelly, broke the silence like a rock striking still water. It echoed faintly, swallowed quickly by the forest.

The marching continued behind him, but even the sound of his army seemed softer now, muffled, almost dreamlike.

Volk's mind wandered. His thoughts drifted to memories long buried—moments of stillness he had never allowed himself to dwell on.

The quiet before a battle.

The strange calm that always came when he stood over a conquered enemy. And now, this—this maddening peace that made him feel… vulnerable.

The sensation only deepened as they marched.

The air became so still that Volk could hear his own heartbeat, slow and steady, thudding against his chest like a distant war drum.

His radioactive energy had dulled to a faint hum, pulsing quietly beneath his skin. His enormous muscles, always primed for combat, began to feel unnaturally loose, relaxed.

Volk shook his head, trying to break free of the strange lull that surrounded him. His sharp teeth clenched harder. "What is this sorcery?" he muttered, his voice cutting through the stillness like a blade.

The forest offered no answers.

The wind refused to respond. Even the shadows seemed to stretch a little farther, blanketing the path ahead in a serene darkness. Continue your adventure at empire

Volk's grip tightened on the hilt of his massive blade. The weapon felt heavy in his hand—unfamiliar, as though it belonged to someone else. That was when he realized the truth:

The peace was a weight in itself.

It wasn't the crushing, suffocating weight of the System's pressure. It wasn't the gnawing anxiety of unseen punishment. This was different. It was a smothering stillness that seeped into the soul, a calm so profound it began to feel oppressive.

Volk could almost hear it—something whispering beneath the quiet. A lullaby, faint and haunting, carried on the unmoving air.

"No," Volk growled, his voice breaking the calm again. "This is not real. It cannot be real."

The march stretched on. Time lost all meaning. Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes stretched into hours. Volk began to wonder if he would ever escape the stillness, if this peace would stretch on forever, swallowing him whole.

The air grew heavier with every step, pressing down on his shoulders like invisible hands. The edges of his vision blurred slightly, as though the very world was softening, folding in on itself.

"Enough," Volk hissed, his patience finally splintering like cracked stone. He came to a halt, his massive body rigid with tension, his glowing eyes scanning the forest around him. The Orcs and Ogres behind him stopped as well, confused, but silent.

Volk glared into the trees, his radioactive energy flaring faintly in warning. The glow pulsed like a heartbeat, sharp and jagged, fighting against the smothering stillness that surrounded them.

For a moment, the peace deepened. The silence pressed harder. Volk's teeth ground together as his grip tightened further.

Then—

A horn.

It came from nowhere, splitting the air like a lightning strike. A deep, echoing blare that rolled through the forest like a shockwave.

The sound hit Volk like a physical force, snapping him back to reality. His radioactive glow flared bright and wild, shattering the last remnants of the peace.

The forest erupted into motion. Birds scattered from the canopy. The shadows stretched and twisted. The horn sounded again, louder this time, its call vibrating deep in Volk's chest.

Volk's eyes narrowed, his grin sharp and predatory. "There it is," he rumbled, his voice filled with renewed vigor. The stillness was gone. Peace was shattered.

The hunt was on.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.