Trope World - Volume 1 Chapter 22 The Weak And The Strong

The giant boar squealed out its fury as atop the farmhouse a catapult launched another massive ball of shit. It sailed through the air blocking out the sun as it descended. Instead of getting dumped on literally, I dashed to the side narrowly avoiding the splash zone.

My feet hurt and my silk loin cloth was covered in various stains. It took a couple of minutes for my health bar to start regenerating and in the meantime, Lazarus fought against the giant boar man. The ground shook from the pounding of hammer blows. Lazarus flew dodging flying balls of pig shit and arrows. I wanted to sit the fight out and let Lazarus finish up, but the fight wasn’t going his way. I checked the hog’s battle power with the full force of my insight.

Apostle of Zorg BP 600,000,000

The hog had been stuffed with all manner of spirit herb and fed hundreds of variants of medical pills concocted by a human who spent time as a slave. This human kept him from being slaughtered. They had developed a relationship over the years and the human gave the Hog his ideology. Zorg the human believed that all beings were sentient, and all beings felt pain. Even as the master whipped the human, he believed. Over the years the hog gained intelligence through a special red pill with a hammer and sickle emblazoned in yellow on the pill’s surface. When he consumed this pill, it was like the lights were turned on for the first time. From that point he called his human friend teacher and learned the ways of cultivation. He learned of this resource scarce world and how the powerful kept most of the resources for themselves to make themselves more powerful. He learned what he needed to know to unite the hundreds of thousands of his people. They practiced cultivation and distributed the spirit herbs equally. Though there were some more equal than others like himself and his confidants. Power was needed to keep the younger hogs in line. Power was needed to keep the cows, horses, and dogs from rebelling. He had several breeds of dog’s mate to form the largest and most aggressive dogs possible. Then he killed the dog’s parents and blamed it on the slaves. One by one a problem would arise, and a scape goat would be needed. The slaves were weak defenseless easy prey after all the owners of the farm haven’t paid them any notice in decades. So long as they gave tribute to the owners they were left alone. Zorg his teacher had left a long time ago. Once the farm had been liberated, he went to liberate another farm.

“F.u.c.k!” I yelled out and dodged another pile of shit. This was all that Zorg guys fault. The memories flowed through me quickly. Most of them were bare and without meaning but I had a good look at Zorg’s face. He was a tall human with a short beard and curly black hair. He was tall, handsome, and muscular. Worst of all from what I could tell, the guy was also a gamer. “Zorg!” I yelled. The giant hog turned to me with a look of confusion in its eyes. I fired my bow twice in an instant shooting two arrows at its eyes. The beast roared and twisted its head to the side dodging the arrows.

“Fat ass Pig, I know you can hear me.” I yelled as my aura swirled around me. I glowed with white light as I dashed towards the giant hog. This was the creature that started it all. A f.u.c.k.i.n.g vegan, commie, fascist killed several humans for the lives of f.u.c.k.i.n.g farm animals. I noticed the man had a swastika on his forearm. Zorg was the type of guy who wanted to kill all the brown people and take women’s rights away in the name of communism and Nazism. Worst of all Zorg wasn’t white he was clearly a blasian a half Asian half black man. He was f.u.c.k.i.n.g odd.

I barely dodged the hammer when Lazarus swung his axe through one of the monster’s hooves. The giant pig squealed as he toppled over. A smile lit my face as the time came to fire two more arrows. Each found their way in the giant pig’s eyes.

Blinded and squealing in agony the pig worked its vocal cords. “The white race shall rise and slay you heretics of pigmentation. Only the fair of skin and pure shall remain. We are the people of neo Cacasia we will have unity and freedom.” That was the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard. Was Zorg a troll? Had I just been trolled? There were communist and Nazi symbols everywhere. They looked completely out of place in this world of cultivation. Did Zorg really believe in it? If he did, I had to meet him and possibly kill him. Hertha appeared and placed several sealing talismans on the giant Hog.

“What are women’s rights? I found pamphlet on the virtues of taking them away but what are rights?” Hertha asked.

“They are things you are entitled to when your born.” I said. She blinked at me and so did Lazarus.

“Melchior what madness are you talking about. Is it something like sect rules?” Lazarus asked.

“No not at all. They are an ideal from another time and place that hopefully will never take up root here.” I said.

“Good, could you imagine if servants or worse mortals could mouth off to us and we couldn’t simply obliterate them. These rights sound like something the mortals would use to place themselves on equal footing with us. Could you imagine mortals who never saw battle, risked their life in cultivation, or fought against a demon having equal say with us? Ridiculous!” Lazarus muttered.

“No right to free speech then.” I said.

“Melchior the only right in this world is what you take. If a Dao seeking immortal said that orange doesn’t exist, then you should forget the word. Though a Dao seeking immortal probably doesn’t care what anyone thinks or says.” Hertha said.

“So, say what you want but be prepared to back your words with power.” I said. She shrugged before nodding.

“Power is everything.” Hertha said. “Now that we have pacified the farm its time for stage 2. There is a local foundation level beehive. If we take the initiative and steal their entire honeycomb stock we can flood the pigs’ stomachs with honey to flush out the intestines before adding brine and salt water and sealing them up in wooden barrels. That should give us plenty of food for the coming siege.

I was made to wait around for Lazarus to go out and gather enough honeycomb to seal nearly 80,000 pigs of various sized in barrels to be pickled. He returned in less than half a day and we started the process. Most of the hogs were just normal animals only intelligent. It was easy to gather them to be knocked out. They were incapable to leaving their fenced in areas.

Every pig was used even the piglets and sows were knocked out shaved down and fed honey until they nearly burst before being entered their barrels. The pigs didn’t go in alone. Those cows that weren’t producing milk were added to the barrels. Though her teeth were coming in Zarina didn’t shy away from dusting a few of the cows. She seemed to be working through them showing off her gluttonous nature. Soon we had hundreds of bags of holding filled with pickled animals. They would soon die in their sleep as their fluids were packaged and preserved. We even took the living dogs skinning them and filling barrels with them. The siege was coming it it would be brutal.

“Do you feel bad about what we did to them? They may have been just farm animals, but they were intelligent.” Hertha asked. They were loading the last of the bags of holding in Lazarus’s backpack. They were going to take one of the flying sh.i.p.s to Low Port.

I thought about it for a moment. Did I feel bad? “I always feel bad when I kill without reason. This is different. We are about to take refuge in a city a month away from a siege. We are the strong and our needs take precedent.” I said.

“Remember that when you are the weak and another is the strong.” Hertha said.