With a ridge height of more than 250 centimeters and a weight of tons, it is hard to believe that it is the same species as the great wild boar.

The sturdy ridge of the high bulge is almost like a hill.

The wedge-shaped protrusions on both sides of the spine that resemble horns are actually so thick that they pierce the vertebrae of the body, and with the clumps of muscles, they can burst out with a terrifying force like a torrent at any time.

Two puffs of white vapor erupted from its nostrils, a precursor to the fury of the "fierce general".

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the miserable female boar not far away, and Gordon felt bitter.

I'm afraid that I've given someone else's little lover a, so it's no wonder this guy is so angry.

Can't turn around!

At present, running away is the way to death, and the speed of human beings running in a straight line can never be compared to the king of wild boars.

Finding the right moment is the only option.

Adjusting his breathing to force himself to calm down, Gordon took out an egg-sized spherical prop from his bag with minimal movement as he took cover with his shield.

He really wished it was a sonic boom, or flashbang or something, and those cute little things would buy him a lot of time.

Unfortunately, he didn't bring such expensive items, or rather expensive items for him as a trainee hunter.

It's just the most common dye ball.

With a flick of his arm, the dyed ball smashed precisely on the back of the Great Boar King, and a large amount of paint-like fluorescent red liquid splattered out, staining the Great Boar King's fur.

At the same time, a pungent smell diffused in the air.

This is a prop that hunters use to mark target monsters.

Specially trained monster hunters can accurately track their targets by distinguishing smells and tracking traces of paint dripping on the ground, rubbing against rock walls and vegetation.

Of course, Gordon didn't just throw the dye ball for tracking.

Rather, it was to further anger the Boar King and force him to attack, and the arrows that did not shoot from the string were the most terrifying.

For the Great Boar King, this "blow" did not cause any harm, but it was extremely insulting.

It's about sprinkling a lot of smelly urine on its head......

The huge fangs swayed violently a few times with the movement of the Great Boar King's head.

Its short, but strong forelimbs shook the ground, and it howled in rage, bowing its head like a steam locomotive, rumbling towards Gordon.

Suppressing the urge and fear to fly to the side in his heart to dodge, Gordon kept telling himself that it was not yet time.

Once the tumbling action is early, it gives the monster the distance to adjust the direction, and before he has time to get up, it is a disaster.

The young hunter lowered his body, his muscles tensed, and stared at the approaching beast at great speed.

"It's now!"

The taut body pops out like a spring.

Gordon dodged the fatal blow and dodged the fatal blow as the violent air currents of the boar king's body even blew the turf up.

Don't wait for him to breathe a sigh of relief.

Gordon, who had just finished rolling and had not even had time to fully get up, felt a strong wind behind him.

The Great Boar King, who failed to hit the charge, stopped in time, turned around and raised his huge fangs and swung at the hunter.

"Damn! Obviously the body is several times larger, but the flexibility is so much higher than that of ordinary wild boars!? ”

Gordon gritted his teeth to hold the shield in front of him, barely made an impact-resistant stance, and flew backwards like a kicked ball.

Falling to the ground, Gordon, who failed to complete the receiving position, only felt his brain buzzing, and the right arm of the shield was in sharp pain like a break.

He felt like he was falling apart and wanted to lie on the ground and catch his breath, but he knew it wasn't the time.

The Great Boar King's all-out pig assault is already close at hand.

At this point, it was too late to get up, and Gordon could only roll a few laps to the side with all his might, and finally dodged this surprise attack without reluctance.

However, how soon will the next attack come? A second later? Or two seconds later?

Am I going to die here?

Just as Gordon, who had barely had room to get up, was about to fall into despair, the roar of trees breaking and the howl of the Great Boar King came from not far behind him.

Gordon, who didn't know what was going on, but finally got some respite, endured the sharp pain and got up, only to find that luck seemed to favor him this time.

The big boar king, who was a little out of his mind in a rage, actually crashed headlong into a giant tree that was enough for two people to hug together.

The most outrageous thing is that the tree was even broken!

However, the Great Boar King is obviously not having a good time.

His steps swayed as if he was drunk, and he seemed to be in a state of dizziness.

This is undoubtedly the best time to escape!

Once again, however, Gordon stopped the idea of turning and running.

Judging from the movement of the Great Boar King shaking his head vigorously, it will recover from its vertigo state after a few seconds at most.

How far can you run during this time? Ten meters? Or twenty meters?

It is true that in the dense jungle, his agile body has an advantage over the wide and fat big boar king, but now he is also injured, and his right arm may even be broken.

Can you really run away if you run directly?

"The Great Boar King must be injured a little, at least to hinder his movements!"

Gordon vented his fear with a roar, grabbed the hunter's knife in his left hand, and rushed behind the Great Boar King, aiming at the Achilles tendon of the Great Boar King's hind legs.

Without sparing any effort, he unleashed what was probably the heaviest knife he had ever been trained as a hunter.

The heels that are not covered with thick fur are indeed one of the weaker parts of the Great Boar King's defense, but that is only relative.

It was not so much a swing as it was a hunter's knife that slashed out, successfully cutting through the not-so-thick layer of skin, but did not cut off the Achilles tendon of the Great Boar King as Gordon expected.

The blade barely slashed halfway through it, and it was stuck by the rock-hard muscles and Achilles tendons.

But this knife also really hurt the big boar king.

It had just regained its consciousness and howled, and with the support of the unimaginable horror of humanity, it turned around and shook its head, and its heavy fangs knocked Gordon out again.

Under the shock of the huge force, Gordon, who was rolling to the ground, couldn't help but spurt out a mouthful of blood.

Gordon, whose strength was shattered, gritted his teeth and tried to raise his head, staring at the big boar king who was charging again with a gradually blurred vision.

It is the law of nature that the law of the jungle is the law of the jungle, and since you are unable to win, as a loser, witnessing the end of your life is not an ending.

However, just as the young hunter was about to be trampled into a pulp, a strange horn sounded.

"Doodoo~Dood~Dood~"

The Great Boar King turned his head irritably, temporarily distracted.

At the same time, several short white and brown figures, in a gesture of agility far beyond the reach of humans, approached Gordon, who was lying on the ground.

He was lifted onto a simple wooden cart and disappeared into the dark forest in the blink of an eye.

Only the big boar king, who had not returned to his senses for a while, roared to vent the anger and unwillingness in his heart.

"Quack, whoa, whoa!"