The "Princess" Pet Sow

Shawn opened the parchment book and read page by page, immersing himself in an ocean of knowledge, unable to pull himself away. Yet, he remained completely unaware that a bandit masked in red gauze had set his sights on him.

Blade was a professional rogue. Among the three specializations—Combat, Subtlety, and Assassination—he focused exclusively on Assassination, making him what legends call an "Assassin."

Blade was a professional assassin. Although he belonged to the Defias Brotherhood, he was different from the old-guard members; he hadn't transferred from the "Stonemason of Stormwind City" ranks. He didn't have a messy array of miscellaneous skills; he only knew how to assassinate. Precisely because of this, his assassination skills were refined to perfection, and his track record was remarkably significant.

For instance, three years ago, he assassinated an elderly man in Moonbrook who had wandered away for eighteen years, only to return home to find his town occupied by the Defias Brotherhood and the undead, a man who was white-haired and stumbling with every step.

For instance, a year ago, he assassinated a lost five-year-old boy in a forest clearing. The child had actually asked him for candy; it was truly foolishly adorable.

For instance, half a month ago, he assassinated a pig on a farm in the southern Elwynn Forest, only to be chased for half a month not only by the farm's forty-something-year-old fat woman but also by a sow that the woman kept.

Yes, Blade had been hunted by that pig for half a month.

Heaven have mercy, although he was a professional assassin, his frame was slender and short; compared to that abominable pig, he was simply, adorably fragile!

There are three virtues to an assassin: masked, physically soft, and easy to knock down...

Every time he recalled the size of that pig, Blade felt like a country bumpkin who had never seen the world.

But one couldn't blame Blade.

Have you ever seen a sow that was one and a half meters tall and weighed over eight hundred pounds? The key point was that this sow wasn't a wild boar king; it was domestic, domestic, domestic...

Furthermore, that pig actually had an incredibly cute name: "Princess"!

On that dark and windy night, that hateful fat woman had shrieked with a voice louder than a lioness in Stranglethorn Vale: "Princess! Gore him!"

And so, Blade had no choice but to flee in a panic.

That black-mouthed, tusked, yellow-furred, ferocious domestic sow had become the nightmare of Blade's life from that day forward.

He had been running for a full half-month, yet he still hadn't escaped the hunt of that domestic sow. As long as he stayed in one place for more than half an hour, that sow would inevitably catch his scent and come charging after him.

God knows where that sow got such endless energy. Could the boar he assassinated have been that sow's lover?

Whenever he thought of the scrawny frame of the boar he had killed compared to the massive bulk of the sow, Blade couldn't help but mourn for the boar.

He mourned for three seconds.

Because after those three seconds, Blade's eyes lit up.

In the distance, he saw two people and two horses slowly approaching along the main road.

On one of the horses was a middle-aged man who looked somewhat familiar. With his five years of professional experience, he could tell at a glance that the man was a peer. Although not an assassin, he was definitely the other type of rogue: a thief.

A peer!

Blade wept with joy.

It had been half a month, and he had finally found a peer!

But why was that peer able to ride a white horse and stroll about, while he was stuck being hunted by a domestic sow?

This was too unfair!

Blade burst into tears instantly, soaking his shirt.

Then he saw that on the other horse was a boy of fourteen or fifteen. Although his ears were slightly pointed and his physique was a bit weak, he was indeed a boy of fourteen or fifteen.

Wait, a boy of fourteen or fifteen, with a weak physique...

And he was reading a book; reading meant he was distracted...

Most importantly, he was riding a white horse...

A white horse...

A white horse!

Blade shuddered all over.

A god-given opportunity!

As long as he snatched that white horse, he could gallop freely and enjoy the prosperity of the world... The abominable domestic pig couldn't possibly outrun a horse, right?

It definitely couldn't!

Blade was ecstatic; the heavens were still looking out for him.

Blade gripped the dagger in his hand.

An assassin, of course, must use a dagger.

This dagger was the most valuable thing Blade owned. It had cost him his entire savings to buy it from a shady thief, and at the time, that shady thief had also been wearing a mask...

Come to think of it, why did that shady thief look a bit like the middle-aged thief riding the white horse?

Well, back to the point.

This dagger was extremely sharp, but Blade didn't intend to use it. Because the most necessary skill for stealing a horse, the most suitable skill, wasn't a lethal strike, but a Kick, a Kick, a Kick...

Blade seized the opportunity, suddenly leaped into the air, and delivered a flying kick that struck the boy!

Shawn was distracted.

He was immersed in the profound knowledge of the parchment book, completely lost in thought.

At that moment, the most stunning kick of Blade's life landed decisively on Shawn, sending the scrawny boy flying. Then, with a graceful vault, Blade mounted the white horse, squeezed his legs against its belly, let out a fierce shout, and the white horse bolted away.

Fortunately, Blade did not choose to assassinate him, otherwise our transmigrator would have been finished, and this book could have come to an end right there.

Fortunately, Shawn had 8 points of Stamina, so aside from a bit of chest pain and some dirt on his clothes, he hadn't suffered any real injuries.

Climbing to his feet and dusting off his clothes, Shawn was furious.

Are you kidding me? He was Shawn, the Supreme Commander of the Space Garrison, and he had actually been robbed of his white horse by a petty thief? How could this be allowed!

Shawn reached out, grasped his Staff, and began to cast a spell.

Arcane Missiles!

Perhaps because his rage meter had reached 100 points, the Arcane Missiles Shawn channeled this time were clearly twice as large as before.

The fist-sized Arcane Missiles flew toward Blade.

However, the white horse was too fast, and Shawn's reaction was too slow. By the time Shawn had finished channeling the Arcane Missiles, the white horse had already bolted more than 30 meters away; could the Arcane Missiles even catch up?

They could not!

But just at that moment, a pig's squeal suddenly erupted, deafening and thunderous, as if a bolt of lightning had struck from a clear sky, or a mountain had collapsed; it was like the wisps at Mount Hyjal exploding against Archimonde, or the cataclysmic detonation of the Well of Eternity in ancient times...

BOOM!

A tall, massive, and imposing sow stood planted in the middle of the road, glaring at the white horse and Blade on its back, letting out a furious roar.

And then, that white horse was so terrified by this domestic sow that it instantly skidded to a halt. Shawn could guarantee that the white horse had never been as obedient as it was at that very moment.

Then, a terrified Blade nearly fell off the horse's back; fortunately, he managed to grab the reins in time, hanging off the horse's neck... still alive.

Blade was completely stunned.

It was that domestic sow again! It was like a lingering ghost; wasn't this going too far? What kind of grudge was this, that it had been chasing him for half a month and still wasn't finished? My lady, I beg you, please let me go!

Blade scrambled back onto the horse's back in a panic, urging the white horse to run faster.

There was no need for him to say it; the white horse knew to run. In the short memory of the white horse's life, it had never encountered anything as terrifying as this... domestic sow.