The Western Swamp was damp and soggy.
A glossy beetle was huffing and puffing as it crawled across the slippery old tree roots.
The roots were covered in a thick layer of green moss, causing the hooks on the beetle Little Shell's limbs to slip slightly, nearly making it fall.
It crawled and crawled, finally erging from this perpetually misty old forest.
The light beca slightly brighter, though the sky remained grayish.
But the ground beneath its feet was noticeably drier and much firr, no longer the kind of black-water-oozing muck that squelched with every step.
Little Shell comfortably stretched its legs.
Just then, a sll mixing rotten fish, stinky sweat, and burnt hair violently assaulted its sensory organs.
It looked up in alarm and saw that on the relatively dry, habitable high ground ahead stood a stinking fortress.
That was the territory of the Goblin Army.
Little Shell shook its antennae and decided to detour to avoid being mistaken for a rock and kicked by a goblin.
After it scurried away, a series of noisy, shrill screams soon erupted from the relatively open forest clearing outside the fortress.
"Pull tight, you idiots! To the left, left!"
"It's getting away, shoot its legs, no, its butt!"
"Owwwooo—!"
Over a dozen well-equipped goblin warriors were scrambling frantically, using several tough vine ropes to try and restrain a colossal creature that had fallen into a furious rage.
This was a Wild Boar King, its size far exceeding the ordinary!
Its hide was an unhealthy gray-black color, coarse as steel needles, caked with mud and congealed dark red blood scabs.
Two curved, massive tusks glead coldly in the dim light like two drawn scimitars.
"ROAR—!!!"
The Wild Boar King's eyes flashed red as it violently shook its head. Its terrifying brute force erupted instantly, and the taut vine ropes snapped with loud, straining *TWANG* sounds.
Several goblin warriors clinging desperately to the ropes felt an irresistible, imnse force wrench them away. They scread as they were flung through the air, crashing into tree trunks like discarded sacks.
Or, even more unluckily, plumting directly into the nearby muck, splashing up large sprays of filthy water.
Freed from its restraints, the enraged Wild Boar King went completely berserk.
It snorted, its pillar-like thick hooves churning up large clods of earth as it charged like an out-of-control heavy war chariot toward the remaining, petrified goblins.
A young tree as thick as a bowl in its path was snapped clean in half upon impact.
"Run!"
"By Grolush!"
"My new leather armor!"
The goblins were scared out of their wits, dropping their weapons and armor, wishing they had been born with extra legs. The scene descended into utter chaos.
"Hmph!"
Right then, a dull snort, rumbling like thunder, sounded.
A tall, powerfully built figure abruptly appeared directly in the path of the Wild Boar King's charge.
He didn't even adopt a defensive stance, just stood casually with his arms hanging naturally at his sides.
The bugbear Hamrbone.
He stood two heads taller than the largest goblin, wearing only a heavy leather loincloth, his upper body bare, showcasing an explosive sense of power.
The massive, spike-covered maul, caked with dark red bloodstains, rested casually against the ground by his feet.
Facing the wildly charging Boar King, Hamrbone's huge hands shot out like lightning, firmly gripping the bases of the boar's two massive tusks.
And pushed down.
The wild charge ca to an abrupt, screeching halt!
The Wild Boar King's four hooves frantically scrabbled at the ground, mud flying everywhere, as it let out an ear-splitting roar, its crimson eyes glaring fixedly at the "little one" blocking its path.
Yet, no matter how much force it exerted, those tusks capable of smashing trees remained immovable in Hamrbone's grasp, as if welded into iron pillars.
His feet sank deep into the muddy ground, but his burly body remained steady as a rock.
"Trash."
Hamrbone rumbled his assessnt.
After a brief, dead silence, the surrounding surviving goblins erupted into deafening shrieks and cheers:
"Lord Hamrbone is mighty!"
"So strong! Truly worthy of being the leader of the Rockbreaker tribe!"
"The Wild Boar King is like a little bug in Lord Hamrbone's hands!"
"Lord Hamrbone! Lord Hamrbone!"
Hamrbone paid no heed to the flattery around him. The muscles in his arms bulged as he exerted force, pressing down violently.
"CRACK!"
The Wild Boar King let out a shrill, distorted shriek of agony. Its massive head was forcibly pressed down until it nearly touched the ground.
Its front legs buckled, and its enormous body crashed to its knees with a thunderous impact. Only its hind hooves continued to twitch and struggle unconsciously, its previous ferocious montum completely gone.
"Tie it up."
Hamrbone released his grip and brushed off the boar hair and mud clinging to him.
The goblins imdiately sward in with thicker ropes and chains, hastily trussing up the thoroughly subdued Wild Boar King.
Behind Hamrbone, a goblin shaman leaning on a bone staff carefully skirted the ss on the ground and approached.
A fawning smile was plastered across his face.
"Lord Hamrbone, your strength would make even a giant sigh in admiration, it's truly remarkable. However, I must inform you of so bad news…"
He rubbed his hands together, lowering his voice.
"Bonebreaker and Venomfang, sent to investigate the eastern swamp, have lost contact. It seems that place indeed holds unknown dangers."
Hearing this, Hamrbone rumbled, "Danger? If you lot can't handle it, then I'll just go smash it flat myself."
Saying this, he bent down to pick up his terrifying maul.
"Lord Hamrbone, you cannot leave now!"
The shaman nearly jumped in fright, hastily spreading his scrawny arms as if to block the way, urgently pleading:
"Army Commander Splitfang is preparing for the war against the Dark Realm, planning to capture more slaves to mine ore during the sumr. If you leave now…"
A flicker of irritation crossed Hamrbone's face, like a fierce beast tethered, seeing prey frolicking just out of reach but unable to pounce.
He snorted heavily, blasting two plus of air from his nostrils. "Troubleso."
He scanned his surroundings, his gaze sweeping over the still-cheering goblin warriors, before finally settling back on the fawning shaman beside him, then glancing at the tightly bound Wild Boar King on the ground.
He reached out a massive hand and, as easily as plucking a chick, hoisted the scrawny shaman up into the air.
"Since I cannot go…"
Hamrbone rumbled, then swung his arm, sending the shaman—amidst his terrified shrieks—flying onto the Wild Boar King's broad back.
"Wha—?!"
The shaman was scared out of his wits, frantically grabbing handfuls of the boar's coarse mane to keep from tumbling off imdiately.
Hamrbone clapped his hands in satisfaction, pointing east. "You, ride this big fellow there. It's got plenty of spirit."
"Even the sturdiest fortress, it can smash right through it with one charge. Go on, dig out that skulking creature for ."
Perched on the violently heaving back of the Wild Boar King, feeling the tremors of muscle and the scorching body heat beneath him, the shaman's face turned green. His voice was tearful.
"L-Lord Ham-Hamrbone, th-this Wild Boar King... it... it isn't tad yet, it... it won't listen to ."
Hearing this, Hamrbone crossed his burly arms, his expression one of obviousness as he rumbled, "Hmph, of course..."
He hadn't even finished his sentence—"of course it won't listen to you."
"ROAR—!!!"
Perhaps the shaman's struggles irritated the Wild Boar King. The colossal beast let out a thunderous roar, its hind hooves madly kicking at the ground, and shot forward like an out-of-control cannonball, carrying the shaman on its back.
"Huh?"
Hamrbone was montarily stunned. By the ti he processed it, the Wild Boar King, bearing the shaman who could only scream "Aaaaah!
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