Strongest Radioactive System

The eerie silence following the mysterious vibrations enveloped the forest like a dense shroud.

The once rowdy horde of Wild Orcs, gruff and unrefined, stood frozen in place.

Each Orc examined themselves and the others, their breath catching in their throats.

What had just happened?

Their coarse laughter, feral grunts, and occasional curses had been replaced by the sound of rustling leaves and the faint hum of residual energy in the air.

Volk stood in their midst, a towering figure, his piercing eyes darting over his newfound horde.

His gauntlet shimmered faintly, emitting soft pulses of energy that seemed to resonate with the faint glow now emanating from every Orc.

He clenched his fist, feeling nothing strange.

However, as Volk looked at others, he knew that the system reward seemed not to focus on him but the new members of his horde.

The change was undeniable.

It wasn't just him—it was all of them.

Suddenly, one by one, they would all notice the changes in their comrades.

A bulky Orc near the back took a cautious step forward, his boots crunching against the dirt. His brows furrowed as he stared down at himself.

Where once his body had been wrapped in poorly tanned animal hides, stitched haphazardly together with sinew, he now wore something entirely different.

Gleaming metal adorned his torso—a chest plate forged from a material that shimmered like liquid steel in the dappled sunlight.

He ran a trembling hand over the surface, the texture unfamiliar.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The light clinking sound of his gauntlet against the plate was as alien to him as the sensation of wearing something so solid. His jaw hung open, his tusks gleaming.

"W-What…?" His voice was a guttural rasp, disbelief thick in his tone.

Soon, the next thing comes.

Another Orc, a female with braided hair and a scar running down her cheek, caught sight of her reflection in a nearby puddle.

She gasped sharply, a sound that seemed almost too delicate for someone of her size.

Her fingers traced the intricate carvings etched into the pauldrons now resting on her shoulders.

They were decorated with runes glowing faintly, pulsating as if alive.

"This… this can't be real," she whispered, her voice trembling. Her eyes darted to her comrades, desperate for confirmation.

A young Orc with a chipped tusk stared at his newly armored arms. His bracers were engraved with swirling patterns resembling flames.

They flickered faintly, like embers being fanned.

He flexed his hands, testing their weight, and then slapped his chest plate.

Clang!

The resounding metallic echo startled him.

"By the ancestors of all the Orcs and believers of the Orc horde," he muttered, his wide eyes scanning the group. "We're… warriors now?"

Others in the horde began to take notice. Murmurs spread like wildfire.

"What is this armor? It feels so light!"

"I look like one of the war legends my grandmother used to tell me about!"

"Are we dreaming? Is this magic?"

Meanwhile, Volk didn't know or care if something changes in him, his presence stood apart from the horde, his presence even more commanding and intimidating than before.

The light of his gauntlet intensified for a brief moment before settling into a steady, rhythmic glow.

His armor had undergone the most dramatic transformation. His previously rugged, cobbled-together gear was now a masterpiece of craftsmanship.

Blackened steel interwoven with jagged, glowing green veins covered his torso. His pauldrons flared outward like the wings of a great beast, and his greaves glinted with every subtle movement.

He shifted his weight, testing the armor's flexibility.

The plates moved with him seamlessly, as if they were part of his very skin.

His massive gauntlet felt heavier but more potent, the runes carved into it glowing brighter than ever.

"Is there a change in me too?" Volk thought to himself as he still couldn't notice, his sharp eyes scanning the bewildered horde, but after that he shook his head, "nor that important."

The collective awe of the Orcs began to turn into one eighty degree.

Their initial shock gave way to something deeper—pride.

They straightened their backs, their breaths coming quicker.

Their glowing armor, no longer a source of confusion, now filled them with an almost intoxicating sense of invincibility.

An older Orc with a deep, gravelly voice let out a booming laugh. He slammed his fist into his chest plate with a thud that echoed through the clearing.

"We're no longer the scattered rabble we once were!" he roared. His voice carried an unmistakable weight, stirring the emotions of those around him.

Others joined in, their voices overlapping as they celebrated.

"Look at us! We're warriors!"

"This is the start of something great!"

"The humans won't stand a chance against us now!"

Amidst the growing fervor, not all Orcs reacted the same way.

A younger female Orc with bright, curious eyes stared intently at the intricate patterns on her bracers.

She traced them with her fingertips, her brow furrowing. "Where did this come from?" she muttered. "This isn't just armor… It's something more."

Nearby, a grizzled Orc with battle scars criss crossing his arms stood apart from the group. His hand rested uneasily on the hilt of his weapon.

"This power," he murmured under his breath, "it feels… unnatural. What did we tap into?"

As the Orcs continued to marvel at their transformations, a low, almost imperceptible hum filled the air once more.

The vibrations returned, but this time they weren't random.

They pulsed in unison, like the beat of a great drum.

The horde fell silent, their laughter and chatter fading as they turned to Volk.

He raised a hand. "Relax, it was just one of my welcoming gifts to join the horde," he commanded, his voice steady and calm.

The vibrations grew stronger.

The glowing runes on their armor began to shine brighter, casting an eerie light over the clearing.

The Orcs shivered involuntarily, the energy coursing through them once more.

"What's happening now?" one of them asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

…

On the other hand, behind the Horse's army.

Kragath watched the spectacle unfold. His battered body leaned against a tree, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The once-proud warrior, who had mocked Volk and his horde not long ago, now felt a chill run down his spine.

"This… this," he muttered, his voice shaking. His jaw hung slack as he watched the transformations continue.

He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the rising fear in his chest. "Came from him?"

…

As the vibrations subsided, the Orcs stood tall, their glowing armor settling into a steady shimmer.

The air was thick with an unspoken question.

They turned their eyes to Volk, their leader, the one who had brought them together and led them to this moment.

It was the female Orc from earlier who broke the silence. Her voice was soft but carried an unmistakable reverence.

"Warchief," she said, her wide eyes glistening with a mix of awe and confusion, "did… did you really do this for us? Is this preparation against humans that will come to us?"

All eyes turned to Volk, their gazes filled with anticipation and wonder if it really came to him.

The forest seemed to hold its breath, awaiting his answer.