My Players Are So Fierce

1624: 545.

Hog’s “Wise Wolf Epic” Chapter One_3

1624: 545.

Hog’s “Wise Wolf Epic” Chapter One_3

Once you step into this underground palace, it means you will forever be bound to our chariot.

Our enemies will also become your enemies, and our shadows of crisis will also fall upon you.

To be frank, I don’t think this is a responsibility that a diminutive Jackal Tribe Chief should bear.

Perhaps saying this will hurt your feelings, but I don’t believe you are the wolf-man saint Murphy envisions to end the Black Disaster.

You were not molded to accomplish great things.

Your potential is poor, and your talent is barely sufficient.

Forcing you forward like this is almost tantamount to sending you to your death.

You can leave now.

I will tell Murphy that you tragically died in the underground palace, but after that, you will have to abandon everything and live under an assumed name elsewhere.

I will cast a spell on you, so you forget everything.

Not because I am kind-hearted, but simply because of the contributions you made to Transylvania during the preparation period of the Swamp Battle.

I believe this is a fitting conclusion for you.”

Triss’s serious and earnest words made Hog’s body tremble.

To be honest, when hearing the Blood Vulture Duke’s advice, Hog had a moment of impulsion where he wanted to agree.

He wanted to forget all these horrors and return to the state of life he deserved—a small, weak, crippled jackal-man, happily hunting, going hungry, playing with his mates, and perhaps owning a tiny clan to call his own, without the burden of slaying the Evil God or saving his race.

Lady Triss was correct; he was born a crippled dwarf, proof enough that the Goddess of Destiny never intended to bestow any monumental mission upon his utterly ordinary and lowly life.

Perhaps wallowing in the muck of desolate wilderness was what he was meant to do.

But soon, Hog’s unique mind began to roar—scolding himself for his stupidity and cowardice, as though wisdom blessed him yet cursed him.

It was precisely because Hog had a sharp mind that he could see the other side of this “suicide mission.”

High risk, high reward!

If he can survive to the end, he will become the Savior of the Wolf People!

Hm, enough with lofty ideals—let’s focus on the tangible benefits.

The entire Dark Mountain Range will become the hunting grounds of the Bloodclaw Clan; countless wolf-people will unite into an army under his will!

With just a single glance, he could cause a distant tribe to disappear overnight.

With just a cough, he could disturb the slumber of countless kings and chieftains.

A shift of his throne would spark a war-torn storm sweeping the land; a mere rotation of his finger could send tremors through the entire continent.

In the face of such gains, the only risk—the worst case—would be death…

Just death.

After all, the days he previously lived could hardly be called the life of someone truly alive!

No matter how Hog tried to rationalize, no matter what method he used to convince himself to give up, there was always a voice roaring in his mind: Fool, this is too good a deal!

“I… I can no longer go back to those simple days.”

Hog shook as he hung his head, speaking to the watching Grand Duke Triss:

“I can no longer enjoy rolling in the muck with the guiltless pleasure of an ordinary jackal-man.

I can’t bring myself to abandon everything I have now to be some waste.

I can’t strip off my Chief’s Battle Armor, put on tattered leather, and fight my insensible kin over a few scraps of bone—gambling my life for one meager meal.

What I mean is, this life has to be used for something.

If given the choice, who would willingly waste it fighting over a scrap of meat?”

He raised his head.

He looked at Triss, and beneath his helmet, his flickering eyes grew firmer with each breath.

In that instant, Triss saw in him the same gaze Murphy bore that day in Cardman City’s disaster—running through endless black snow to save her.

Ah, her little darling had truly instilled something terrifying into this jackal-man.

Even Murphy himself perhaps did not know what sort of soul he had created…

Hog took a deep breath, clenched his claws, and said:

“You are absolutely right!

When I entered the underground palace, I walked into a fate that does not belong to me.

I will bear the terrifying threats of your enemies, dragging myself and my still fledgling clan into a calamity.

But conversely, my troubles will also become your troubles.

My enemies will become your enemies.

An alliance is never a one-way choice!

I lose something, only to gain something in return.

Look, I’ve learned all that Professor Malcolm taught me!

I will not grow weak from bearing this fate.

In fact, it will strengthen the bond between us, making me a genuine “ally.”

I believe Sir Murphy is a miraculous chosen one.

The confidence he gives me allows me to disregard the issues you raised.

I was not molded to accomplish great deeds, Lady Triss; I admit this.

But precisely because of my weakness and insignificance, when I achieve this, it will leave others with an even greater sense of awe.

I need to achieve greatness with my crippled body, for only then will my savage, ignorant kin truly follow me wholeheartedly.

I won’t become another King of Bone Biting.

But I know that if I reach that step, I will become far greater than that failure… He had his strength, but I have my advantages!”

“Hahahaha!”

A mirage-like laughter echoed in Hog’s ears.

It was the King of Bone Biting, who had been haunting Hog’s nights, laughing with such delight for the first time.

It seemed the fallen king, too, acknowledged Hog’s bold words.

At last, he recognized Hog as his descendant; yet Hog no longer needed that title.

“Very well.”

Triss looked at Hog before her.

Her alluring eyes were filled with astonishment, softening the Duke’s tone.

She said:

“The Palano Knight holds a binding curse that will tie your existence to Murphy’s.

I hope you won’t see it as a leash… Your wisdom should understand it’s merely… proper care.”

“It is a leash!

Your Grace, you don’t need to dress it up with words.”

Hog laughed heartily, with the insufferable tone of a jackal-man:

“But if I see being Murphy’s dog not as a humiliation, then the sneers of others are meaningless.

In fact, I’ve always thought that being Murphy’s dog is the greatest honor of my life.

After all, how many would want to, but never have the chance!”