"You don't understand the Way of the Pig at all! You're a disgrace to our kind! Oink!"
"Squeak, squeak, mutter, mutter!"
Outside the Royal Capital, in a corner of the hills.
The ground around them was pitted and uneven. In many places, turf and the soil beneath it looked as though something had gnawed through them, leaving long trails behind.
Two figures faced each other amid the torn earth.
The air was tense.
There appeared to be two figures, but there were actually three beings.
On one side stood a plump, pale boy in his early teens. Golden light wreathed his body, his two ears were as broad as palm-leaf fans, and a pig's snout protruded from his face.
On the other side stood a plump, pale little pig, with a green-shelled little turtle perched on its head.
Both sides looked grim and disheveled. They had clearly already fought.
But neither seemed able to get the better of the other.
The boy snorted. "You say I don't know the Way of the Pig? What a joke!" Two whirlpools seemed to churn in his eyes. "Since the day I was born, I've eaten almost every day. I've probably eaten more things than you've ever seen!"
As he spoke, he opened his mouth wide. A tremendous suction erupted from it, whipping up a gale that sucked in the surrounding soil and stones, along with flowers, grass, branches, and leaves!
Little Pig was clearly prepared. With a leap, he dropped to the ground, tucked in his hooves, and rolled aside like a ball of meat.
The boy closed his mouth, and the gale died at once. He chewed with a crunching sound, then laughed. "What can a tiny piglet like you do? Apart from dodging quickly, you're good for nothing! Look at that