Chapter Thirty-Four: Returning Under the Cover of Night

Just as Xu Kang had guessed, after being rudely awakened, the giant wild boar did not attack him. Instead, it gazed at him with a puzzled expression—

Why did you wake me? Is it feeding time already?

Because their master-servant bond had been established, Xu Kang immediately sensed the boar’s thoughts, which left him both amused and exasperated.

“Damn, you really are a pig—always thinking about food. Fine, since I’m in a good mood today, I’ll let you eat your fill!”

With that, he pulled dozens of magic loaves from his dimensional pack and dumped them all at the wild boar’s feet.

The boar clearly remembered this delectable treat. At the sight of so many magic loaves, it gave an excited howl, then lowered its head and began devouring them with gusto.

As it ate, Xu Kang could feel the animal’s joy, and at the same time, he noticed their bond growing stronger and more stable.

This realization struck him with clarity.

“So this world’s beast-taming works just like in games—you have to use food to raise intimacy!”

With this insight, a bold idea formed in his mind—to build a beast legion!

More precisely, a beast legion composed entirely of wild boars.

There were three reasons for this plan. First, wild boars were common creatures; whether he used the taming skill to capture adults or bought piglets for rearing, it was entirely feasible. Second, wild boars were easy to feed and not picky, surviving well enough on magic bread alone. With his current “production capacity,” he could easily sustain dozens at once. Third, wild boars boasted impressive offense and defense. An armored adult charging into battle would not only be more likely to survive, but also pose a significant threat to enemy archers and infantry—perhaps even shattering their formations outright!

Xu Kang was convinced: with a “charge squad” of dozens of boars, defeating an enemy of equal size would be no problem; he might even achieve victory against larger forces.

It would be the ultimate trump card for small-scale skirmishes in the wild!

Thinking of this, Xu Kang gazed more fondly at the wild boar still feasting on the magic bread. He reached out and patted its massive head.

—

“When my boar legion is formed, you’ll be the boss with dozens of followers. A proper leader needs a fitting name. I’ve got it—your formal name will be Iron Boar, but your nickname will be Strongboar. What do you think, Strongboar?”

“Snort, snort…”

—

While Xu Kang was busily taming and naming his boar, Zhao Hong and Zhang Cheng back at camp were growing frantic over his prolonged absence.

When Xu Kang left camp earlier, he had left quite a few loaves in the main tent—at least a thousand, nearly filling the place. Zhang Cheng had spent quite some time with his men moving them all.

After clearing away the magic bread, Zhang Cheng, out of courtesy and respect, wished to thank Xu Kang in person. But since Xu Kang had gone out “for a stroll,” he could only wait outside the tent.

He waited well into the night.

By then, even the most oblivious would know something was wrong.

Yet, faced with this situation, Zhang Cheng dared not raise the alarm. He quietly informed Zhao Hong, and the two began searching the camp separately.

As expected, Xu Kang was nowhere within the camp.

Now they were truly desperate.

For the commander to go missing before even reaching their destination—at best, it was gross negligence and a capital offense; at worst, it could be construed as plotting against their commander, a crime punishable by execution of their entire families.

Worse yet, they could not let anyone else know, especially the soldiers. If word got out, there would be a mutiny for sure.

And if that happened, their fate would be sealed.

Weighed down by these dire prospects, the two were restless, like ants on a hot pan, utterly at a loss.

In the end, with no other options, they settled on a desperate plan: one would stay in camp to maintain order, while the other went out to search for Xu Kang.

It was a thankless and risky move, with little hope of success, but they were out of choices and had to take the chance.

Zhao Hong was the one to head out. Before he left, he and Zhang Cheng agreed: if Zhao Hong didn’t return by dawn, it meant he had failed, and Zhang Cheng was to fend for himself.

In other words, Zhang Cheng was to run for his life.

—

To think, they had both been respectable officials—not blessed with high office, but comfortable and secure. Yet now, in the blink of an eye, they faced becoming fugitives. Their hearts were a tumult of emotions.

Just as Zhao Hong mounted his steed, preparing to set out on this “road of no return,” Zhang Cheng’s ears caught the faintest sound of hooves.

By day, with all the usual noise, he might have missed it. But now, in the stillness of midnight, he heard it loud and clear.

At once, he called out to Zhao Hong.

“Brother Zhao, wait a moment!”

He threw himself to the ground, pressing his ear to the earth and listening intently.

His expression quickly turned strange.

“A horse is coming this way—and there’s something else with it. They’re moving fast, almost here! Brother Zhao, hide quickly!”

Zhao Hong knew all about Zhang Cheng’s skill for identifying riders by sound and did not hesitate. He pulled off his boots and stuffed them into his horse’s mouth, then led the animal behind a large tree to hide.

Zhang Cheng also took cover behind a tree, gripping the hilt of his sword and focusing on the direction of the approaching hoofbeats.

Soon, the faint clip-clop grew clear—hoofbeats echoed crisply in the night air.

In the cold moonlight, the two finally saw the newcomers.

Bathed in the silvery light, the commander they’d sought all night, Xu Kang, came galloping toward them astride a warhorse clad in full armor, a vicious horn rising from its helm.

And running alongside, shoulder to shoulder with the horse, was a massive wild boar—so large its shoulder matched the horse’s back. The beast thundered across the ground, making the earth tremble, serving as a loyal bodyguard escorting its master.

Neither Zhao Hong nor Zhang Cheng had ever seen such a sight. Both men drew sharp breaths.

“Hiss—”