It is told that the ancestors were animals crawling through the land and fishing for dirty bait.

With the greed of eating and fishing for anything that fits in his belly, the sheer survival of how harsh the environment would be, and the prolificity of killing but not killing, the warrior who finally sent down a pillar of the desolate god who reigned over the land became the first king.

That is the interest of the Pork (Aug) tribe.

Competition for survival within the same clan on limited land was extremely intense. What is on the meagre food is always the strong, and the weak go off the stage hungry or killed. During the repeated phase-outs, the superiority of the species was sharpened, and eventually the Pork (Aug) tribe had an unparalleled huge and powerful body.

"... land, drinking mareta"

The absurd breath boiled down to white smoke.

The great warrior Fogol hastened with his family's soldiers, but he did not make it. It was a defense battle that raised the total power of the pig tribe crowning the northern limit plains. The 36 clans who wanted to be bound by six divisions, the northern walls built with all their strength by an army that would not lower 30,000, were crumbled.

It was the eastern valves that led to the Foss clan, which lost the Great Warrior and the Six General (Ligdalus) Adullakhan as the head of one of the six great clans. Fogol, who vowed to see later the trace of the Great Foss, weakened in power and lacking cohesion, tided his face full of anger and shame and struck down a great axe at the evil things that had struck him.


Proceed as you scream.

I ordered my men to kill them all.

We should not have settled in the land what crosses the snowfields, what is called evil. In the remains of fellow countrymen lying everywhere, there are groups of things like black coal extinguishing. Whether it's eating flesh or blood, they become entrenched. And if you accept that encroachment mischievously, you will buy the disappointment of the gods.

The ancient chaos that the ancestors had to crawl around the earth will come again. The "stirring" of the gods begins.

Just look over and you can find a number of large ones that have already determined their appearance.


With the Oriental Grey Monkey tribe, the Six-headed General (Rigdalus) Adullah (Khan) regarded himself as the god of the grudging valley, and lost in vain after a fierce battle. The god of the land took away the mystery (Shen) of what he had reclaimed. That made the land of Foss rough and buried it in unparalleled heavy snow this year. Magudura, the heir, was struggling to hold down the clan valves as the feather of inheriting a fallen god, no different from the heads of his enslaved family.

In response to his long friendship with Adura, Fogol promised to keep an eye on the orphan Magudura. I was trying to protect him, at least until the valve settled down.

That's it now.


From the collapsed wall, black shadows continue to land and penetrate. It was no longer like a flooded river. Probably got the next wave of raids without being hunted down.

Fogol entrusted his guardian wall to his deputy general, and came with 2,000 soldiers as reinforcements. But the land to be preserved was already filled with evil things, and the number was far from ten thousand.

Those of the Foss tribe who had fled and scattered came together to see the power of Fogol. Some of them still survived. If we put them together, we might still manage to push them back.

We must not feed new flesh anyway.

The soldiers of the Bukhara tribe, led by Fogor, are moving forward in a tightly spaced formation, giving the enemy a clearance to enter. I put a shield on all the bad things that are approaching me, and I smash them with an axe. Bad things are cursed just by touching them. The ones in the flesh of the dead take the initiative and kick it. Traces of the life of the living give the soul a stopover to the wicked that were nothing.

As I proceeded in that way, I saw the particularly great evil of the whole thing.

How much flesh it had consumed, it had reached such a giant that it could no longer be shouldered by the Great Warrior Fogol. Fogol challenged the whole thing. The great warrior of the Bukhara clan (Khan), a pillar of the six-headed general, and the giant of Fogol moved, and the great axe fell on the neck of the wicked with a single blow. The axe was further vertical and horizontal, cleverly deciding something round out of its black corpse.

Was it the 'divine stone' of the wicked?

It was as soft as a newborn egg. It fell to the ground and broke as-is. The medulla, which had not even become a solid of the contents, splashed up on the muddy ground with a bump raised.

Where there was a large evil, there lay the remains of pigs, I guess, who had been devoured until now. The glimpse of the outfit looked familiar. Adullah, the head of the Foss tribe, was the son, the remains of Magullah.

If the large man who had now stopped his breath had taken the god of the land, the great god of the Foss tribe would have returned to the graveyard. If not, it will also be important for the survival of the pigs.

(It's Adura. Forgive me)

Fogol commanded all the armies with a sounding torso.


And kill him.

Pushing back the invading enemy first and blocking the hole in the wall is a prerequisite. Fogol saw. A black shadow reverses his whole body's hair as he crosses the wall in Yunxia.

And one, one more, and a shadow diving through the fierce phasing-out of battle rushes into the land of our pigs, which spreads beyond the walls. Individuals like that often gain some wisdom.

(… this land may no longer be good)

Oh, and there was a cry that didn't even make a voice.

To the hinterland, the 'wicked' penetrate the hinterland. The sight is scattered with manure in the water drinking area, but disgusted from time to time.

Fogol struck a black shadow rushing in front of him with his face full of bitter thoughts.

The Pork (Aug) tribe was a large group crowned in the subhuman world.

Competing against the White Bull (Blagand) tribe to the west and oppressing the Grey Monkey (Macak) tribe of the forest to the east, his race had undoubtedly the power to occupy the strongest corner of the North Limit Plains.

Large quantities of ore and fueled wood continue to be brought into the main Yijara of its great clan, even though it is winter. The iron furnace chimney exhaled smoke in abundance, and the metallurgical boulevard, where the whole town remained covered in white smoke exhaust on a windless day, was still in the shade of a thin cloud that day.

The streets were flooded with refugees fleeing the neighborhood.

Your tongue cannot stop pounding at the crowd enough that a carriage of horses with iron to come and go is stuck. The pig (Aug) tribe, who were originally too physically fit, was hitting a narrow spot, and if they did poorly, the carriage could have been crushed by pressure.

It happened where there was arguing and brawling. Though there were shadows peeking from nearby workshops and houses when there was noise, they pulled right into the back when they knew it was not a big deal.

Even in such streets, some push others forward in our faces. Most of them were pullers from the Northern Front. Rough eyed wounded soldiers poke their weapons and push on. Refugee children and females driven out on the wall cried out.

The newly poured pullers proceed silently. Because they always act on a family-by-family basis, there are usually warriors at its head or similar. Of course, they are the 'protectors'.

Bad rumors were spreading.

The eastern part of the country was invaded by the wicked.

The soldiers of the brave and ringing pig tribe have often retreated from the evil ones crawling from the snowfields over the last decades. No one even imagined that the iron wall guard would collapse.

The royal castle in the heart of the main Yijara was also unrelated to serenity.

The pig king, the hero (Bibi) Bugal, stood on his throne after giving a glimpse to those who knelt before him with a depressing face.

It was a long glimpse, but there was no change in his decision to be king of the race. The king had already given up the land.


"Lower Gale, Passover Deal!

"Go rethink! Your Majesty!"

Foreheads were the clan chiefs of the Eastern Valve who lost their land.

One of the six great tribes, whose struggle was also hit by a more or less massive invasion, the Foss tribe lost the land it had been accustomed to living in for many years, most of which turned into displaced persons.

The eastern border of the Pork Nation moved to the old-time defense base, built for the Anti-Grey Monkey Nation, east, not north. Hundred-year-old walls, where only obstructive rocky mountains and poor bases of terrain remained, have been hastily restored and strengthened.

Movements to build defensive lines are also active in the lands of the Northern Limit nations that face each other across the land of Greater Foss. The encroached land will be a landless land once ancestral return has taken place. Although the sublimation of the 'wicked' to their intrinsic species takes a tremendous amount of time, the pressure of the 'wicked' in the meantime will be lured there and reduced for a while. Although the emergence of a powerful new species at the end of intense phase-out is not welcome, the native nations, again on the northern limit, were originally born that way. Save time and accumulate the power of the race, and one day you may regain it. The kings of the exchangers thought so, and the six-headed generals (Ligdalos) who supported it showed their support.

The vast land of Great Foss has been abandoned.

And the six families that were bound under the tribe of Foss sought refuge in the king, but no help was given. Originally, there was nowhere near enough leeway to bring thousands of refugees to the land of the Pork tribe, which was plain scarce and food scarce.

The six families, who understood that they had been abandoned, were to be driven from the Lord Yi only after they had been given some food.

They had to rebuild their lives on their own.

The North was originally, and now the East has been swallowed up by the 'wicked'.

And to the west, it is dominated by the White Bull (Bragand), a large group in the northern limit that is bi-perfect with the Great Pork (Org) tribe. There was nowhere else for a handicapped six-family to devour.

"Mori Ni"

"To the south."

The southward descent of the Pork (Aug) tribe 3000 began.