Onkkkkkk… Onkkkk.
Some of the pigs immediately snapped out of their daze after seeing one of their own beheaded by Tarkan. Their panic turned into rage. Those who had been frozen by fear began to shout, trying to rally their group, but fear had already crept deep into their hearts.
Tarkan now stood in front of them. His face held a smile, but his thoughts were far from calm. Inside, he was cursing.
He knew the pigs were eventually going to catch up to him if he kept running, especially while trying to rescue the girl.
He had planned to hide her somewhere safe, then kill the pigs one by one in the village.
Tarkan knew he wasn't as strong as them. The only reason he could match their speed at all was because of his talent.
The real reason he had confidence in killing them was because of the crudely made sickle, one of the pig weapons he picked up earlier.
