Chapter 44: Boar-dom (44)
Then—
A loud man’s voice echoed through the site.
"Is everyone ready?! We’ll head out now!"
The carriages jolted, wheels creaking against the dirt road.
Horses neighed, seekers shouted across each other, the whole convoy bursting into motion.
They rolled out of Glimmerfen, the early light breaking through the trees.
Akayra is as quiet as ever...
Min sat up front near the coachman, chatting away, while Ahrie leaned against the wall—eyes half open, staring out the window. He watched the trees blur past, scanning them for any movement... any potential threat... hell, even a random creature he could stab just to kill the boredom.
"So... Embergarde’s always fighting monsters?" Min asked, curiosity lacing his tone
"Yes," the coachman replied, pulling lightly on the reins. "It’s the first line of defense for our kingdom. Its border faces the south forest more directly than here."
"The monsters there are far more active. To the point that I felt like they’re avoiding Glimmerfen altogether."
"Eh? For real?" Min asked, eyebrows raised.
"Yeah," the coachman continued. "Embergarde’s monster invasions are insane. There’s not a single day they don’t get attacked."
Min looked back at Ahrie. "Then we won’t get bored, huh?"
Ahrie just grinned and gave him a lazy thumbs-up.
"Ahh— not you, Sir Ahrie," the coachman said quickly. "You’re a healer, aren’t you?"
Ahrie’s grin vanished.
"Oh... yea..." he muttered, realization hitting him. "Fuggggg!"
Min burst out laughing, teasing him without mercy.
The two ended up pinning each other again—elbows, knees, and curses flying around the cramped space.
Outside, their slim horse was struggling to keep up—its breathing heavy, hooves clumsy on the dirt road. With a pathetic neigh, it started climbing onto the back of the carriage.
Thud—thud—
Both Ahrie and Min turned their heads.
They didn’t even hesitate.
"Walk, you lazy ass horse!" they shouted in sync, chopping its leg off the side.
After a few hours of travel, someone at the front shouted,
"HALT—! LUNCH TIME!"
The carriages rolled to a stop. Seekers stretched, cracked their backs, and scattered around to set up camp. Some unpacked rations, others started roasting meat, and a few maniacs hunted out boars for an "eating contest" later.
Ahrie and Min were both sprawled on the roof of their carriage, arms over their faces, soaking in the faint breeze.
Meanwhile—somewhere a bit off the road—Shiven was creeping through the tall grass.
His eyes darted around, hands shaking as he gripped his spear.
Shhkk...
The grass rustled.
Shiven froze.
He slowly raised his spear, pointing it at the sound. His breath hitched. Then—
A small, cute lizard head popped out.
He let out a shaky exhale. "Whew... just a tiny—"
The lizard blinked.
Then it stood up.
Bones cracked, skin stretched, and that "tiny" creature slowly rose to full
height—towering, broad-shouldered, covered in thick, flexing muscle.
Shiven’s jaw dropped. "S-So... you, uh... eat humans?" he stammered.
The lizard’s small, adorable head nodded. Yes.
"O-ohh... I-I see, hehe... you’re lucky," Shiven stammered, sweat dripping down his temple. "There’s tons of humans back there."
He jabbed a trembling finger behind the lizard.
The creature blinked, turned its small, cute head to look—
And when it looked back... Shiven was gone.
"Fukkk... fukk... fukk..." his voice trailed as he sprinted through the trees, legs flailing, heart pounding.
POOF!
"ARGGG! WHERE AM I NOW!?" he screamed, landing face-first in the dirt.
He got up, brushed his face, and looked around.
"Not again..."
But he didn’t even finish the thought before something massive growled behind him.
KAAAAARRRRRR!!!
"NOPE!" Shiven yelled, taking off again, full sprint, cursing his teleportation skill.
Back at the camp—
seekers returned from the forest, hauling massive boars.
Fires crackled, grease popped, and chatter filled the air. Some were sharpening weapons, others dozing off, and the smell—holy hell—the smell of roasted meat spread like crazy.
Ahrie sniffed the air.
Min did too.
Both peeked out from their carriage like hungry stray dogs, eyes gleaming.
They got up and dragged themselves toward a tree near the cooking pit, flopping down beneath it with bushes covering half their faces.
The firelight flickered across the camp.
Boars roasted, bellies rumbled, and laughter echoed around.
Plates were passed, steam rose, and one by one, seekers dug in—
even Akayra, sitting with the higher-ranked teams, gracefully slicing her portion while the others devoured theirs like beasts.
Ahrie’s stomach growled loud enough for Min to hear.
"...Shut up," he muttered, glaring at himself.
Min snorted.
"Let’s eat too," Min said, standing up and stretching.
Ahrie followed, brushing the dirt off his pants—
Then the bushes behind them rustled.
"Peopleee!" a man’s voice shouted.
"AAA!" Min flinched and threw a reflexive punch—
WHAM!
"Pff—" Ahrie blinked. "Oh, it’s Shiven."
Shiven froze mid-step, Min’s fist buried in his face.
"So... when are you removing your fist?" Shiven mumbled through his squished cheek, voice flat and annoyed.
Before Min could react, Ahrie grabbed his arm, twisted it like he was winding a screw, and pushed it harder into Shiven’s face.
Shiven’s eyes twitched. "You enjoying this a bit much?" he said, grinning now, forcing Min’s hand off and stepping closer—forehead meeting Ahrie’s.
"Of course I do," Ahrie grinned back.
BLAG!
He slammed his forehead into Shiven’s.
Shiven grinned, refusing to back down.
They pressed harder, foreheads grinding like two idiots trying to bend each other’s skulls in.
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
The sound rang through the camp—
like someone hammering metal
Seekers turned to look.
Silence.
Then someone shouted—
"THE EATING CONTEST IS STARTING!"
"Who wants to participate here!?"
Shiven cracked his neck and pointed at the roasting boar. "Bet you can’t eat that big-ass thing faster than me."
Ahrie squinted. "Ho? You think you can, huh..."
He reached into his pouch. "Three hundred bronze coins."
Shiven’s grin widened. "Three-fifty."
"You’re on, bitch," Ahrie muttered, both of them already storming toward the registration table like kids.
Meanwhile, Min lay flat on the grass, bored out of his mind. He turned his head lazily—then spotted their slim, scrawny horse resting.
"Eh?" Min blinked.
The horse blinked back.
Min’s eyes slowly glowed with wicked curiosity.
Back near the campfire, Ahrie and Shiven lined up to register, already arguing who’s going to win.
Min sprinted to the line—dragging the slim horse by the reins.
"NEIGHHH!"
The seeker in charge of the list raised a brow. "Name?"
"Min," he replied, standing straight like this was a serious interview.
"Alright. Line up there so we can proceed."
"Can my bud join too?" Min asked.
"Sure, sure. What’s his nam—" The seeker froze mid-sentence. "Wait... is that a horse?"
Min nodded enthusiastically.
"...Alright," she sighed. "What’s the horse’s name?"
Min turned to the horse. "You don’t have a name, right?"
The horse blinked... then nodded.
Min grinned and looked back at the seeker. "Fucking pathetic son of a horse."
The slim horse neighed furiously and swung its front leg at Min’s face.
Min tilted his head, narrowly dodging. "Oh? You don’t like it?" He chuckled. "Then list it as—Little Useless Spoiled Horse."
The horse stomped and kept swinging while Min weaved left and right, laughing like a maniac.
The seeker just stared blankly for a moment... then sighed, pen scratching the paper.
"I’ll just list it as ’Horse.’ Next!"
A few minutes later, the eating contest began.
Fifteen participants.
Each had a full, massive boar sitting in front of them—like, twice the size of a damn polar bear.
"READY!"
"GOOO!"
The crowd roared. Plates clanged. The smell of roasted meat flooded the air.
Ahrie and Shiven went at it like wild beasts—ripping chunks off with both hands, jaws unhinged, eyes locked like this was a deathmatch.
And honestly... 350 bronze coins was a lot of money.
Meanwhile, Min sat calmly beside them—chewing at his own pace. One bite. Then a sip of water. Then another bite.
He looked to his left.
The slim horse was... struggling. It took a bite the size of a coin. Waited five seconds.
Took another one.
Then let out a defeated, "Neiigh..."
(I give up.)
Min groaned, rubbing his temples. "No one can understand you, you poor bastard..."
He threw down his fork. "This picky eating shit’s hopeless."
The contest dragged on for hours.
Sweat, grease, and chaos everywhere.
One by one, people started dropping out—slamming their spoons down, groaning in pain, collapsing backward.
The moment they quit, a mob swarmed in to scavenge whatever meat was left. It looked less like a contest now and more like a feeding frenzy.
But two idiots still stood strong.
Ahrie and Shiven.
Both halfway through their boars, eyes bloodshot, jaws working nonstop.
Shiven wiped the sweat off his forehead, smirking. "I can smell your defeat from here."
Ahrie didn’t even bother answering.
He just lifted his greasy hand... and flipped him off without breaking rhythm.
As the contest dragged into chaos, only four survivors remained.
Ahrie and Shiven — neck and neck, faces red, veins popping, both looking like they’d rather die than lose.
Min — still calmly eating because, honestly, he was just hungry.
And the slim horse — who’d taken maybe five bites total, barely carving a hole on its boar.
The crowd went wild, cheering like it was some legendary showdown.
In the Ent’s shitty little office...
Ahrie’s Ent sat there gnawing on an empty donut box—
"Arggg... I wanna eat that too!"
He looked around, spotted something weird on the screen.
RootTube Live?
"The hell is that?" he muttered and clicked it.
POOF —a chat window popped up on the side of his screen.
"Eh? What’s this?" the Ent blinked.
Then—
Sprout #01 – Hypergyphon joined the stream
Sprout #02 – Linnene joined the stream
Sprout #03 – Essos joined the stream
"What the hell is this?" the Ent said again, already regretting it.
Suddenly, the chat started spamming:
Sprout #01 – Hypergyphon: Eating contest?
Sprout #03 – Essos: What did I miss?
Sprout #02 – Linnene: Stream just started, bud.
"Wha— I can’t turn it off!?" the Ent panicked, clicking random stuff. "ARGHH!"
Then—
A golden scroll popped up on the screen. It read:
"For showing how grateful I am to those who send their Golden Tickets to this world
Every Golden Ticket sender will receive a Sprout Account Number, forever engraved in this world.
Your name might show up every now and then in this too...
Thank you very much... If you want one, you know what to do... Wink! Wink!"
"...What kind of dumbass commercial is this?" the Ent muttered.
Commercial’s over!
Back to the camp.
Ahrie and Shiven picked up speed. Faster. And faster. And faster—
"Guh—" Shiven suddenly choked, grabbing for his cup of water.
Ahrie burst out laughing mid-bite... and instantly choked too.
Min raised his hands. "I’m done," he muttered, leaning back and tapping out.
The crowd swarmed his leftovers like starving wolves.
On the other side, Ahrie and Shiven were straight-up sabotaging each other—throwing bones, stealing meat, anything to gain an edge.
The horse just stared at them.
Then neighed, Neighhh! (I give up!)
Nobody understood it, of course.
"IT’S NECK AND NECK!" the commentator shouted.
"WILL IT BE AHRIEEE—"
"OR WILL IT BE SHIVEEEE—"
POOF!
"Eh?"
Everyone blinked.
"Where’d the dude go?"
Meanwhile... somewhere deep in god-knows-where—
Shiven reappeared mid-scream.
"STUPID—FREAKING—SKILL!!! WHERE THE HELL AM I NOW!?"
A thunderous WOOOORRRR! echoed behind him.
He turned, froze—then bolted.
"FUUUUUUUUUCK!"