HUFF! PUFF! OINK-GRUNT!
Three hundred thousand burly, thick-skinned warriors of the Iron-Boar Tribe finally lumbered into the southern entrance of Iron-Gate Canyon.
At the front of the column, Boar-Chief Tie Gong—a four-hundred-pound Rank 5 High Boar-Kin powerhouse with two curved white tusks sticking out of his jaw and a heavy iron war-club over his shoulder—wiped the sweat and drool from his snout.
Because the four-legged Wolf-Kin could sprint twice as fast as the short-legged Boar-Kin, Tie Gong and his boar army had spent the last twenty minutes chasing the wolves’ dust while smelling that heavenly, mouth-watering red hotpot wind the entire five miles!
By the time they reached the canyon gate, the three hundred thousand boar warriors were so hungry their eyes were bloodshot.
“Get ready to fight, brothers!” Boar-Chief Tie Gong snorted loudly, raising his iron war-club as he rounded the corner into the wide plaza. “Chief Cang Ya and the Wolf-Pack must be locked in a bloody battle with the human garrison right now! We’ll smash the human shields from the flank and grab half the meat pots—”
Tie Gong’s voice died in his throat.
Behind him, three hundred thousand charging Boar-Tribe warriors slammed on the brakes so hard that the back rows bumped into the front rows like a pile of rolling barrels: THUD-THUD-BONK!
