Fight with pigs? What kind of absolute nonsense is this?
In reality, people often imagine wild boars when they think of pigs and assume farm pigs must be incredibly ferocious, but that isn't the case at all. Farm pigs have been raised by human hands since they were piglets. During that process, they undergo vaccinations, tail docking, teeth clipping, and the males are castrated.
Just as a human might develop a lifelong trauma if a dentist pulls the wrong tooth during childhood, a pig undergoes far more intense and consecutive procedures the moment it is born.
The result? Having experienced enough trauma at the hands of humans from a young age, they naturally flee the moment a person approaches. If you manage to catch one and lift it, it simply squeals its head off—the classic "stuck pig" scream—but offers no actual resistance.
They are, in essence, massive creatures that are utterly powerless.
They aren't completely stupid, so they'll gather if they smell food, and except for the uncastrated boars kept for breeding (which we don't have on our farm), they aren't fighters. Based on that, telling me to fight with pigs because my own combat ability is pathetic is basically telling me to just stand there like an idiot and watch the farm burn.
"What, are you telling me to build a legion out of these guys? People call undisciplined mobs 'ragtag armies,' but if I tried to fight with these pigs, my farm would become the new dictionary definition for 'hopeless mess'!"
The message window seemed to fall silent for a moment before continuing its rant.
[You truly are a pathetic individual! Do you honestly think I suggested this without making the proper preparations?!]
"Urgh..."
To be fair, if someone suddenly told you to fight using pigs, who would say, "Ah, the pigs are protecting me; I can sleep soundly tonight"?
[Stop making excuses! It was you who cut me off and flew into a rage before I even finished speaking!]
Fair point. But me snapping at the idea of fighting with pigs was also due to the lack of explanation on their part, so let's call it even.
[Ahem! Then, I shall continue!]
As soon as the message finished, a new window appeared—not transparent like the previous ones, but with a deep blue background.
[First, to establish a link between the Awakened and the farm, please grasp the handle in front of you.]
It felt like reading a product manual. But the sudden appearance of the window and the lack of a proper explanation made me hesitate.
[Please. Grasp. It.]
The blue message window floated right up to my nose, approaching with such intensity it felt like it might shove me back if I didn't comply. Naturally, I felt uneasy. Ten years of silence while the world changed, and now, on my very first day as the boss, it shows up saying "Your farm's gonna burn, so hold my hand"?
But even if it was suspicious, if both "grabbing it" and "not grabbing it" led to the farm burning down, I at least wanted to know why. I didn't have a choice. This was called a "Tutorial," but it was a forced quest.
The moment I gripped the handle of the pigsty door as instructed:
[Tutorial Beginning!]
"So sudden?! No, wait, you should at least explain things properly befo—"
The thing didn't even allow me to finish my stammering. A brilliant light erupted from the door handle I was holding.
[Linking the Awakened to the farm. Do not let go!]
It felt like my hand was being sucked into a sticky glue trap. I was terrified as the handle seemed to pull me in, but I didn't pull away.
Since I inherited this farm, everything that happens here is my responsibility. It wasn't because I was some unprecedented paragon of filial piety; I just wanted to be able to tell my father, who trusted me with this place, that I at least tried my best. Above all, knowing that someone out there was trying to lay hands on my property made my blood boil. I couldn't just stand by. I gripped the unpleasant handle tighter.
[Link... 27% complete... 28% complete...]
The light radiating from the handle began to spread outward. A deep blue glow, similar to the message window, began to coat everything. Starting from the pigsty I was holding, it covered the ground I stood on, the feed storage, the manure pit, and even the farm's guard dog, Ddong-chi, and his doghouse.
Like a protective coating, the blue light embraced every object, building, and animal on the farm. With a message saying "100% Complete," the glow slowly began to fade.
[Link between the Awakened and the Awakened's farm is complete.]
Then, suddenly, from beyond the door I was holding, an intense flash of light—visible even through the cracks—erupted, followed by the panicked clamor of the pigs.
"What was that?! What did you do to the farm?!"
I didn't know what it was, but something had definitely happened inside the pigsty. The pigs' screaming was far too intense for it to be just a simple light show.
[It is part of the preparations I mentioned.]
True, it had mentioned "preparations" when I was ranting about how fighting with pigs was impossible...
"What preparations?"
[After scanning the Awakened's farm thoroughly—and by extension, all pigs inhabiting this earth and this dimension—it was confirmed that there are no pigs with sufficient combat power to protect the farm.]
"Right... obviously?"
There are plenty of cases where Goblins from random natural dungeons wander out to forage and get wiped out by a sounder of wild boars. In terms of raw combat power, a Goblin is arguably weaker than a wild boar. The fact that the system was saying this even after including wild boars meant the threat coming for this farm wasn't some low-level Goblin nonsense.
"So what does that have to do with the noise inside the pigsty?"
[The answer is simple! If a suitable pig cannot be found in this dimension, we shall summon one from another dimension! The cause of the commotion inside the pigsty—both then and now—is the pig summoned from another dimension!]
"Hey! You should have said that sooner!!"
Of all things! Mixing a random pig from who-knows-where into a pen overnight?
Pigs are surprisingly smart. Even though they live in groups, they are social enough to designate a specific area for their "business" instead of just going anywhere. This also means they are incredibly sensitive about their territory.
The moment a stranger—a pig not from their own litter or pen—is introduced, they see it as a challenge. A territorial war breaks out immediately. There are no exceptions; they will fight. It's not just a minor scuffle either; they often fight until one side is dead, which is why my father almost never mixed different groups of pigs.
And this thing just dropped a random pig into the pen?! I didn't know if its intention was to help or not, but right now, it was just a troublemaker leaving me a mess to clean up. I rushed toward the door.
"...No, wait."
I opened the door slightly, and the uproar reached my ears. The squeal-squeal was as loud as ever, but this wasn't the sound of a territorial fight.
They were terrified.
As if they had spotted me approaching with a needle in hand, they were screaming in unison at the arrival of an entity they couldn't hope to resist. At least there weren't any death rattles, so it probably wasn't a predator. But I couldn't wait any longer.
"Whatever it is, they'll get stressed, so I'm going in to check."
[...]
I threw the door open and ran toward the pen where the commotion was. The tension in my chest slowly turned into confusion and then into pure shock.
"Hey! W-what is that?!"
"Mmph!! Mmmph-nnngh!!"
Beyond the transparent blue screen, in the middle of the pigs, was a woman with platinum blonde hair.
Specifically, judging by the armor she was wearing... she was a knightess.
"Don't tell me... that's..."
[Tutorial Task One! Tame the pig before your eyes!]