The Pigman camp was loud and chaotic. Pigmen and members of other races could be seen celebrating or fighting among themselves. There were barely any guards, a clear sign of their overwhelming confidence.
The smell of wine, old blood, and accumulated filth hung thick in the air.
Not far away, a group of goblins approached slowly and silently.
César watched the enemy camp carefully.
He narrowed his eyes and raised his fist, signaling for everyone to stop.
The goblins behind him halted instantly.
"Here," César whispered, loud enough for all to hear. "The Pigmen village."
From atop the rocky outcrop, the view stretched before them: crude huts made of hardened mud and bleached bones, surrounded by jagged stakes. Obese creatures with pink skin covered in coarse black bristles and protruding snouts moved lazily between the structures.
Pigmen.
Taller than goblins.
Physically stronger.
César had studied them. He had not planned to attack so soon, but he had discovered something interesting that forced him to change his decision. Many enemies had begun disappearing—most of them from the allied races that had joined the Pigmen.
That led César to suspect several possibilities. Perhaps those races had rebelled. Or perhaps the Pigmen were planning something.
César suspected the latter. There were no signs of rebellion.
So he chose to strike first.
"Listen carefully," César murmured without raising his voice. "I hope the victory against the murlocs hasn't gone to your heads. This time, we face stronger enemies. Among them are dark elves who possess mana. They also use a new mana-based system called Monstrous Crystals, which gives them an initial advantage. This battle will not be easy. Many may die."
Many goblins swallowed nervously. In the past, they would not have feared death—it had been part of their daily lives. But recently, things had begun changing for the better, and they wanted to keep enjoying those improvements.
To do that, they needed to survive.
They clenched their teeth and looked at one another, filling themselves with fighting spirit.
Many already knew this day would come. They had heard stories from their leader's women, Asia and Sasha—stories about the Pigman tribe: worshippers of a mysterious god, wielders of a strange power system, creatures who delighted in tearing off arms, crushing skulls, and devouring enemies alive.
César narrowed his eyes and stood tall before them.
"Many of you have advanced in the Mana system, and some have even formed Mana Cores," he said, his gaze sweeping over several goblins. Among them were his three brothers. To his surprise, all of them had mana talent—perhaps influenced by the mana-rich environment.
"And although only a few have made significant progress toward forming an Aura Core, many of you have accumulated Aura, opened your veins, and strengthened your bodies. That is our advantage. We have our own energy system."
He clenched his fist.
"We will not lose."
"Men," he said calmly, "charge."
There were no more speeches.
Only clear orders.
"Gabe, prepare the traps."
"Gobul, flank from the east. No one enters. No one leaves."
"Gabol, come with me. Let's slaughter those pigs."
The goblins nodded.
No one hesitated.
The fear was still there…
But structure kept it under control.
The first scream came.
The first Pigman died without understanding why.
An improvised spear pierced his throat from the bushes. Thick, hot blood spilled out. He tried to scream, but only a gurgle escaped.
Then another.
And another.
"KRRROOOO!" one finally roared, alerting the village.
Too late.
Smoke began to rise.
Huts burned.
The Pigmen charged frantically, wielding clubs, rusted swords, and sharpened bones.
And then—
The traps activated.
Taut wires sliced tendons.
Hidden pits swallowed heavy bodies.
Poisoned stakes pierced flesh.
The Pigmen screamed.
Not in fury.
In confusion.
"THERE ARE TOO MANY!"
"WE'RE SURROUNDED!"
"KILL THE LITTLE ONES!"
César stepped into the heart of the chaos.
The Pigmen saw him and burned with rage. To them, it was an insult that a mere goblin would challenge them.
Gabol refused to let his brother take all the glory. He stepped forward as well, openly challenging the Pigmen.
One charged at him, raising a bone hammer.
"DIE, YOU LITTLE GREEN PIECE OF FILTH!"
From a distance, Sasha aimed her bow and fired.
The Pigman staggered, nearly falling as an arrow pierced his leg.
His eyes widened.
That pause was enough.
With a single motion, Gabol drove his spear into the Pigman's neck.
Instant death.
The others stepped back.
The Pigmen finally took them seriously. These goblins were not like the ones they had faced before. Some even possessed abilities similar to dark elves and lycanthropes—mana.
The fight became long and bloody. Though the goblins had the advantage, their casualties were heavy.
They knew this battle would be far harsher than the previous one against the murlocs.
Slowly, Pigmen fell.
Slowly, the goblins advanced.
César observed.
He had not lowered his guard. He knew this was far from over.
They had struck hard and taken the enemy by surprise, but anything involving gods was never simple.
He had also been watching carefully, expecting reinforcements.
But something felt wrong.
There were no other races present.
A bad premonition crept into his chest.
The battle continued. Aura warriors formed squads with regular goblins, advancing in coordinated assaults. The mana-users—those who had learned basic spells from Luna and Asia—provided ranged support.
César pushed forward, but the deeper he went, the stronger the unease became.
There were too few warriors.
And something else—
The Pigmen with Monstrous Crystals, who should have been present, were also missing.
Everything felt off.
After prolonged fighting, César made a reckless decision.
He would infiltrate the village center.
He knew it was foolish, but he couldn't shake the feeling.
While the battle raged, he slipped away unnoticed.
When César finally reached the center of the village, what he saw shocked him.
A strange ritual was underway.
A shaman from an unfamiliar race—resembling a humanoid praying mantis—danced around what appeared to be a blood-red fruit. Around it stood several cages holding members of various races: dark elves, gnolls, kobolds, Pigmen, lycanthropes—even some who should have been allies.
All of them were shriveled.
Dead.
Nearby stood several Pigman warriors with Monstrous Crystals embedded in their bodies. They, too, were being drained to fuel the ritual, which seemed to be cultivating that strange fruit.
The fruit was red as blood and emitted dark purple smoke.
And at the center of it all sat an enormous Pigman—the largest César had ever seen.
He sat cross-legged, indifferent to the battle outside.
If César was not mistaken…
That giant was the Pigman King.
At first, César was confused by the fruit.
Then he tried to recall a fruit with similar characteristics from his past life.
When realization struck, his expression turned euphoric.
He licked his lips, eyes gleaming with greed.
"Just as I suspected."
He now understood.
In the novel, there had been mention of a strange Pigman—a mini-boss the protagonist had to defeat.
Among the devil-human races, hybrids were considered impossible. Elves and humans could interbreed. Even dragons could produce offspring with elves or humans.
But devil-humans?
Impossible. Against their very nature.
A child would always inherit the species of one parent. If one parent was a goblin, orc, or Pigman, there was a ninety percent chance the child would inherit the father's species.
But the novel mentioned this Pigman was different.
He could create hybrids—Pigmen mixed with humans, elves, dwarves, and other devil-humans.
Beings with the strengths and abilities of both species.
The novel described how this Pigman had begun cultivating power long before the arrival of humans, preparing to ascend to a higher realm. Had it not been for the protagonist's accidental early discovery, the Pigman would have succeeded—and with his army of hybrid descendants, he could have destroyed the human kingdoms.
As for his power…
The description had been vague. It merely stated that it came from a strange fruit offered by a god. The author had only posted an image of the fruit on the forum.
And if César was not mistaken…
The fruit before him now was that same fruit—the one that granted the Pigman King the ability to create hybrids.