Porter stopped in his tracks, looking at Colby, who was currently stuck under a giant houndish monster. The only thing between him and a trip to the great cheese platter in the sky was a tiny, shivering, sheddingThornwolf.

  Why was Colby doing this? Because if he didn’t, then Porter would. And that boy had no idea what he was dealing with. Though it’s not like knowing that this was Farmer Hound would suddenly solve every single problem.

  Plus, Porter didn’t take his promises lightly, which meant whether Colby liked it or not, the dull duo were allowed to be dull and duoing another day—assuming he somehow managed to stop Farmer Hound.

  Porter [Dashed] back to the dull duo, boots skidding in the dirt. Their leather armor, what was left of it anyway, was dark with fresh blood. They writhed on the ground, gasping, shaking, and screaming in agony.

  From his Inventory, Porter yanked out a set of straps, his hands moving surprisingly fast despite being known for his legs. In moments, Lefty was secured against his back and Righty strapped tight against his chest. With how large the dull duo and how not-large Porter was, the weight should have been impossible to lift. But thanks to [Lighten], the only thing slowing the Supply Runner was his hesitation about leaving Colby alone—and maybe that he had to tilt his head to the side just so he could get a glimpse of what was in front of him.

  “I’ll be back soon, Colby!” Porter yelled as he [Dashed] off.

  But even running at top speed, especially carrying two almost-dead weights, it’d take some time for him to come back. And it’s not like Porter could do anything if he came back. All he could do was run. He was fast, but was he faster than a Farmer Hound who was more hound than farmer?

  Colby didn’t want to find out the hard way, the easy way, or any way for that matter.

  But what could he even do other than use Thornelius as an unwilling monster-shield?

  He shifted the poor Thornwolf around, moving him to wherever Farmer Hound thought was a good place to sink his claws or fangs.

  “Over there! Quick!”

  Voices? Were the Knights here to save him? He’d even take a Knight-in-training with barely any training.

  Colby turned towards the noise. A group of men emerged from the bushes, while his heart emerged from where the sun don’t shine, burrowing itself into the ground. The men wore beige long-sleeved shirts and matching pants. Thick rubber boots covered their feet, and even thicker rubber gloves swallowed their hands. A straw hat sat on their head, shielding them from the sun and casting their face in shadow.

  Those weren’t Knights, or even Knights-in-training. Heck, even an ‘A’ word as a distraction would’ve been better.

  They were farmers.

  Farmers?

  The heart rose from the ground and back into where the sun don’t shine. Those were the see-salt farmers, which meant…

  “Code Hound!” Colby yelled. “Code Hound!”

  “It’s that weird cheese kid.” One of the farmers said as they sprinted towards them.

  “Quick!” Another farmer said. “Before he runs again.”

  Inventory screens opened up around them. They reached in and pulled out their weapons of choice: long, sturdy catchpoles with a gem embedded in them that would really spark up a conversation, a large, oddly shaped muzzle, and leashes that looked more like lassos.

  But something was missing from their repertoire.

  Where was the whistle that had been able to immobilize Farmer Hound?

  The beast's snout twitched, and his ears twisted around again.

  “Quick!” A farmer shouted.

  Farmer Hound howled and dropped onto all fours. Muscles bunched beneath his fur before he pounced in their direction. He sailed over them, slipping past their catchpoles and lasso-leeshes. He kept on running, claws tearing into the dirt as he charged straight back towards the gate.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “After him!” they yelled, chasing after Farmer Hound.

  That looked like a problem for not-him. It didn’t seem like Farmer Hound was after Porter. Even if he was, the Supply Runner should be in the safety of Brinebrook by now. And the only entrance happened to be guarded by a certain General Goodsell. If the farmers couldn’t handle Farmer Hound, then he certainly would—assuming old age hadn’t taken its toll.

  Colby got up and dusted himself off. He cradled the whimpering Thornelius in his arms, rocking the Thornwolf and giving him sweet kisses as they made their way back.

  Thornelius was recovering, daring to show his face rather than having it buried within Colby’s chest. All of a sudden, he started to tremble again.

  A loud howl echoed through the forest.

  That was Farmer Hound. And that was where he did not want to be.

  A pair of [Cheese Boots] with [Cheese Pillow] paddings appeared over his shoes.

  Colby took quiet, vaguely measured steps as he sneakily stealthed his way closer to the safety of the gate. Past some trees felled by a certain beast, Colby saw who Farmer Hound was currently sinking his claws into—or he would’ve, if he could see.

  A flash of light had blinded him first, leaving him momentarily dazed as he stumbled around until his vision finally cleared.

  The see-salt farmers surrounded Farmer Hound, who in turn surrounded a pack of LeMonkeys being controlled by dark-green tendrils, who surrounded the originator of that light, Elaine.

  She was alone, with no red-haired or blue-haired noble girl by her side. The only thing red was the blood that coated her sword and an unmoving LeMonkey lying on the ground.

  Gears clicked into place.

  Farmer Hound hated monster abusers. Some of the monsters being controlled by that huge ball of mold, which looked like a giant Myconet, happened to still be alive. That also explained all of the slash wounds from the knights. And how the dull duo managed to survive for so long.

  Now, Elaine was his next target. And Colby was not going to let that happen.

  “Laine!” he yelled, running towards her.

  “Run away, Colbs!”

  After being [Flashed] by Elaine many times, Colby was the first to regain his vision, leaving the rest still momentarily blinded and dazed. But even without his eyes, Farmer Hound had his other senses.

  He slashed at Elaine, who twisted to the side and barely managed to bring her blade up to deflect the next blow.

  The LeMonkeys flailed their baguettes, movements growing steadier as their vision began to return.

  Colby didn’t want to wonder why monsters supposedly being puppetted would be affected by blinding light, because Elaine was running out of time. She wouldn’t be able to contend with a group of LeMonkeys and Farmer Hound at the same time.

  What if she didn’t have to?

  Farmer Hound was still blinded. He wouldn’t be able to see his feint on Thornelius, but what if he didn’t feint?

  Colby lifted up his palm and aimed at the mass of flailing LeMonkeys.

  Congratulations! [Hard as Cheese] has reached Level 16!

  The ball of cheese soared through the air and smacked the monster square in its lemony dome, knocking its beret off. It staggered before falling onto the ground. Sour, yellow liquid oozed out where the cheese had embedded itself as the monster was left stunned by the unexpected blow.

  Colby had used Gouda. Aged Gouda. And it clearly showed. [Hard as Cheese] had gone up four levels just like that.

  Farmer Hound had heard what had happened—or maybe smelled? His head snapped towards Colby as he bounded towards the latest monster abuser to have drawn his ire.

  “Colby!” Elaine shouted.

  She [Dashed] over as fast as her huge body could carry her, laughably slow compared to the monstrous hound.

  “Thornelius!” Colby yelled, raising the scared and whimpering Thornwolf into the air, stopping the swipe that would bring him to the great cheese platter in the sky.

  Farmer Hound howled, continuously trying to attack him, but Colby moved Thornelius in a circle, stopping every blow before it could connect.

  Elaine caught up. Her blade shone with light as she swung. It was useless. The sword bounced off. Somehow, Farmer Hound’s skin was even tougher than the Lobster Mobster’s armored shell.

  Soon, but not soon enough, the see-salt farmers had regained their sight. They sprinted towards Farmer Hound, brandishing their catchpoles and leashes.

  His ears and snout twitched.

  Someone else had just been branded a monster abuser.

  Farmer Hound pulled back his claw before dropping on all fours. He turned around and ran as the farmers chased after him once more.

  Looking at the LeMonkeys who were running towards him and Elaine, an idea sprouted.

  Colby was going to regret this, but look at the bright side of things—not Elaine—he might get a lifetime supply of milk out of this.

  He raised his palm toward the group of charging LeMonkeys and fired off another [Cheese Shot]. As luck would have it, the hard ball of Gouda soared toward the same LeMonkey from before. It had just stood up, dazed from the concussion of a lifetime and slightly unbalanced. The hard ball of Gouda smashed into its paw. Bones shattered, and its baguette fell to the ground. The LeMonkey’s howl of pain was overshadowed by a certain Farmer’s.

  Now, Farmer Hound was after him.

  And Colby had a plan. A very sour and cheesy plan.