The pig at the center of the enemy formation raised a thick, trunk-like weapon and pointed it directly at him. Its flesh quivered beneath layers of mismatched plate armor, and the creature let out a long, drawn-out whine that echoed throughout the canyon. The sound was unnatural—a mix between a call to arms and a guttural challenge. The air vibrated with the strange frequency, stirring loose dust into brief spirals along the canyon floor.
Then they moved.
Hundreds of armored pigs surged forward like a tidal wave of iron and rage. Their massive weapons—greatswords, greataxes, and heavy blunt clubs—caught the faint sunlight as they raised them high in synchrony. Behind them, pigs dressed in ragged cloaks wielded staffs that sparked with the flicker of fire magic, while yet more pigs, carrying crude bows, stayed in the rear, arrows notched and already drawn.
Yuuta blinked once, arms still folded across his green frog chest.
"You think I'm just a piece of shitty frog meat, huh?" he muttered. "Come on then. Try to roast me. I fucking dare you."
His expression tightened into a smug grin. With a flick of his arms, the magic surged around him. On his right, the distinctive hum of his [Magic Missile] card shimmered in the air, manifesting a glowing orb that spun idly in place. On the left, crackling arcs of lightning erupted as the newly acquired [Lightning Bolt] spell coiled around his hand like a coiled serpent, building up power with each second.
He extended his left arm, aiming it at the oncoming horde. The blue current pulsed in his palm, bright enough to reflect off the shattered rock beneath his webbed feet.
"Let's see what you can do."
The spell erupted forward, unleashing a bolt of lightning that streaked through the air like a lance thrown by the sky itself. Its speed was near impossible to track with the naked eye, but its impact was unmistakable.
The bolt struck the frontmost pig—a towering brute with a massive sword—and the poor bastard lit up like a fireworks display. Its squeal was drowned by the crackling electricity as its body convulsed and blackened in seconds. But that wasn't all.
The lightning leapt.
Chains of electric energy arced to nearby pigs standing too close, their weapons and armor conducting the current with cruel efficiency. Nearly a dozen of them were caught in the chain reaction. Some collapsed immediately in smoking heaps, while others twitched and stumbled, steam rising from their roasted hides.
Yuuta's frog eyes bulged. "Damn... that shit's no joke."
The glow of the lightning faded, but the pig army didn't falter. They didn't slow. The pigs simply stepped over their fallen, eyes filled with the same reckless fury. It was as if they had no understanding of fear—no instinct for self-preservation.
And yet Yuuta's still bulging frog eyes suddenly locked onto the scattering gold coins and XP orbs littering the canyon floor like treasure after a dungeon boss. It should've been a moment of triumph—proof that he was still alive, still winning. But any glee he had was choked out by the rising figures in front of him. The pigs were still coming.
Yuuta wiped the stupid look on his frog face and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his stubby arm. "Of course they didn't stop. Barbarians. Total brutes. Guess being ugly also means you're too thick to realize you're marching into a fucking frying pan."
But the momentary confidence ebbed when something else caught his eye—glints of red and gold in the distance.
His pupils shrank.
"Shit—spells incoming!"
Dozens of fireballs arced through the sky. Behind them, a hailstorm of arrows followed. The mages and archers had begun their attack. The sky above Yuuta darkened, filled with streaks of flame and black shafts.
His mouth went dry.
Without thinking, he released the glowing [Magic Missile] in his right hand. It flew upward like a comet, colliding with the incoming projectiles. The resulting explosion was deafening.
BOOM.
The fireballs ruptured mid-air, scattered in a shower of sparks. Arrows twisted off course from the shockwave, some crumbling into ash, others dropping harmlessly around him. Yuuta flinched at the few that remained, one whistling just past his eye. His arms instinctively crossed over his face, bracing for any impact, but none came.
When the dust cleared, Yuuta slowly lowered his arms. His body was intact, though his heart was hammering like a drum in his chest. The canyon was now alive with chaos—fire-scorched ground, scattered sparks still burning in the cracks, fallen pigs twitching under the last of the lightning's wrath.
Yuuta looked up at the advancing wave.
There were still so many.
"…Seriously, again with this shit?"
Dozens—no, hundreds—of armored porkheads barreled toward him like a pink tsunami of bad decisions. Clanking armor, snorting nostrils, war cries that sounded more like wet coughing. Yuuta clicked his tongue (Don't know if frogs can click their tongue) and did the one thing that made sense for a frog-shaped mage who didn't want to become frog barbecue.
"Time to cast and run, baby."
With his stubby green legs pumping like pistons, Yuuta sprinted through the canyon, his three-fingered arms pumping at his sides. The wind cut across his froggy face, carrying the smell of scorched earth, charred pigflesh, and sweat. He didn't look back—he didn't need to. The rumbling behind him told him everything he needed to know.
"Why do these damn meatheads never learn?" he grumbled between huffs.
The spellcasters and archers at the rear of the pig army weren't on foot like the others. No, those bastards were riding fat, four-legged pigs. War mounts. Each one bounced under the bulk of its rider, jiggling like pink beanbags with armor. The mounted spellcasters raised their staffs, while the bow-wielding pigs notched arrows, galloping in formation behind the infantry.
Yuuta glanced over his shoulder just in time to catch the leisurely pace of the massive pig commander bringing up the rear. That thing looked like it weighed a ton and walked like it knew it didn't need to rush. Probably because it was used to cleaning up whatever mess the front lines couldn't handle.
"Big guy thinks he's the final boss or something," Yuuta muttered. "Let's see how he likes fireworks."
Mid-run, Yuuta vaulted off a slanted rock, twisting midair. His legs flailed in a froggy flip as he conjured two spells at once—Lightning Bolt in his left hand, Magic Missile in his right. The air around his left palm cracked and sparked with raw electricity, tendrils of blue light wrapping around his stubby wrist. Meanwhile, the orb of arcane force spun in his right, throbbing with barely-contained kinetic pressure.
"Say cheese, fuckers!"
He flung both spells behind him.
The lightning bolt screeched across the battlefield, a jagged streak of blue that tore through the charging pigs. The lead warrior didn't even get to scream. His armor lit up like a bug zapper, and he collapsed mid-stride, twitching violently. The bolt didn't stop—it chained, leaping to the pigs packed tightly beside him, striking one after the other like falling dominoes of fried pork.
Crack! Zap! Screeeee!
The magic missile followed a second later, arcing high before diving into the center mass of the swine horde. It exploded on impact. Not with fire, but with raw force—blasting armor plates off, shattering tusks, and hurling bodies into the air. Blood misted in the air. Bits of fur, steel, and squeals littered the canyon like confetti after a really disturbing party.
Yuuta landed on the ground with a thud, skidding a few feet. He turned briefly to witness the devastation.
"…Okay, that was awesome."
But the pigs weren't done.
Even after the electrocution and the explosion, the rest didn't slow down. Their faces twisted with mindless fury, they stampeded over the corpses of their comrades, uncaring. Yuuta scowled.
"Persistent little fuckers, aren't you?"
Then the sky darkened. Not with clouds—but with shadows.
Yuuta tilted his head back.
His eyes widened. "Ah, shit."
A swarm of arrows and fireballs rained from above. Glowing orange spheres and feathered shafts fell like divine punishment—except it wasn't divine, just aggressively mediocre pig mages and discount archers trying to turn him into a roasted kebab.
"Too close, too close—!"
Yuuta dove sideways, landing shoulder-first behind a crumbling boulder, scraping his rough frog skin against the stone. He curled in, tucking his limbs tightly as the bombardment struck.
THUD! CRACK! BOOM!
The earth shook. Stone shattered. Heat licked at his back as one fireball exploded too close for comfort, sending a blast of warmth and dust into his hidey-hole. Arrowheads ricocheted off the boulder's edge. One even stuck halfway through a crack, quivering ominously just inches from his snout.
Yuuta didn't move. He just blinked slowly, mouth slightly agape, trying not to breathe too loudly.
"…This is getting fucking ridiculous."
The stone shield protected him—for now. But even a frog could tell it wouldn't last. That army wasn't about to back off. Their mages and archers had the high ground. The heavy infantry was regaining momentum. And somewhere behind them, that monstrous commander was still advancing at a snail's pace, probably waiting to deliver the finishing blow.
Yuuta clutched at the rough canyon dirt and peered from the side of his boulder. The battlefield looked like something out of a war movie—smoke rising, ash swirling, craters where the earth had been torn open. Dozens of pigs writhed on the ground, either dead or too wounded to keep going. But more kept coming.
"I need a plan…" Yuuta muttered.
He knew. He couldn't rely on his brute spells. Not here. Not with an army of pigs with this size.