The Kind-Faced Swindler, Ryurik
Ryurik, the shaman with a gentle face, had been a con artist from birth. To him, diligence was mere stupidity, and honesty was idiocy. Without his extraordinary luck, his head would have rolled long ago—but Ryurik was a remarkably fortunate piece of trash.
The one time in his life his scam was exposed became the turning point that led him to his shaman master. The master, pitying Ryurik's talent, took him in and raised him as a shaman.
Ryurik thought life was easy. After committing crimes, he'd climbed even higher, so it was only natural. That's why he wasn't too worried this time either. As always, he believed luck would smile upon him!
"Damn it!"
That foolish belief returned in the form of Wendigo's razor-sharp claws.
Ryurik hurriedly chanted spells to awaken the talismans surrounding him. They erupted in brilliant light, erecting an invisible barrier.
Kwajik!
"What the hell!?"
As the barrier tore apart one by one under Wendigo's claws, Ryurik spat out his shock and retreated. Even the mere chill left by those claws made the talismans tremble as if they might shatter. He widened his eyes in disbelief.
Talismans crumbling from just the frost on his nails!?
Wendigo was equally surprised. No one had ever blocked his attacks before. To think a shaman—not even a warrior—would make him miss.
"A more capable fraud than I expected. Offer your neck willingly. I know you've lived despite committing a mortal sin."
"How would a spirit know that? I'm an upright shaman, I tell you!"
"In my life, I've never seen a single honest soul who called themselves 'upright.' And I smell a foul stench from you, along with the mysticism of mad beasts."
Ryurik gritted his teeth. He'd hoped mentioning "spirit" might throw him off, but he hadn't expected such a reckless charge.
Why is this crazy spirit acting like that? Spirits don't move without gain.
Bad guys understand other bad guys best. True to his rotten character, Ryurik knew spirits well. They seemed to act on whims, but generally moved only when it benefited them. Even if a shaman wanted to help a village, the spirit wouldn't unless there was a clear reward.
Ryurik's sinful mind raced. This spirit must have some gain too... Only one thing comes to mind.
Putting distance between them, Ryurik opened negotiations.
"Great spirit! If you desire this village's worship, I'll resolve the issue and serve you devoutly—please sheath your wrath!"
"You're insane, still flapping your tongue in this situation. Enough nonsense—summon the spirit you've contracted. I'll deal with it directly."
Wendigo flatly rejected the negotiation. Worship? What worship? He had no intention of bargaining with Ryurik. Skadi had taught him that human awe and fear strengthened a spirit's mysticism, but it didn't resonate with him.
When have I ever lacked mysticism? Too much is the problem.
Wendigo had never once felt short on mysticism while using his powers. No shortage meant no greed. His desires were far more human: eat well, dress well, live enjoyably!
Ignoring Ryurik's words, Wendigo manipulated the cold to form an ice sword. As the massive greatsword materialized, Ryurik's eyes twitched.
"Goddamn it, what kind of spirit with that much power shows up in this crappy forest just for food!?"
"...Born in this crappy forest, so nothing I can do about it."
Wendigo replied in an irritated tone. Not quite his heart's homeland, but with his origin presumed to be the forest, insults to it rubbed him the wrong way.
Infusing the swing with personal grudge, Wendigo slashed with enough force to cleave Ryurik in one go.
The sinister aura on the greatsword made Ryurik curse as he drew a wooden sword from his belt. He tossed it into the air and chanted.
Responding to his spell, a giant made of roots and branches rose from the earth, grasping the wooden sword. Pink flowers bloomed on it, spewing thorny vines. The wooden sword grew to rival Wendigo's greatsword in size.
"Thorn Boar Giant, cleave my enemy!"
Ryurik spat blood from the strain but shouted. The giant charged, swinging its sword.
He'd suffered internal injuries from summoning so much mysticism without preparation, but Ryurik gained confidence. No matter how great the spirit, this much mysticism should hold it off!
It's a spirit too. It won't want to overuse mysticism!
He didn't need to win—just endure, and it'd retreat to conserve mysticism!
Wendigo eyed the summoned giant curiously and swung his greatsword. Their blades clashed, echoing thunderously through the village.
Wendigo's sword exploded with cold, instantly freezing the giant's blade. The giant didn't back down. It pressed with its weight, spewing roots from its body to entwine Wendigo heavily.
"No more hiding, huh? These disgusting roots—are they your spirit's origin?"
"The Thorn Boar Giant doesn't fall easily. Give up and leave!"
"Dodging the question confirms it."
Even as roots coiled around him, Wendigo calmly began pushing the giant back. A frigid, razor-sharp aura like a blizzard's wind burst from him, and the roots withered and fell away in an instant.
The giant, losing vitality, still swelled its body to obey its master, trying to drive its sword into Wendigo's neck.
Futile struggling. Wendigo's greatsword cleaved the giant's blade in reverse, toppling its stance. Now Wendigo dominated.
Cracking sounds of dry branches breaking echoed from the giant's body.
Ryurik stared blankly.
"No... fuck."
"Shamans have filthy mouths, huh. Or maybe you're average—I've only seen four, including you."
Wendigo's greatsword bisected the Thorn Boar Giant. The flowers on the wooden sword wilted, the body collapsed limply, and frozen branches rained down.
Ryurik trembled in fear. The giant's fall was somewhat expected. Shamans rarely beat spirits head-on.
But... why did Wendigo show no change after fighting it?
"Wh-why hasn't your mysticism decreased?"
"Beats me."
Wendigo blatantly ignored Ryurik's knowledge. Spirits' mysticism waned with use, yet Wendigo remained brimming as at first.
At this point, Ryurik began seeing the spirit before him as something else entirely.
I can't win at my level!
He bit his lip and pulled a seed from his belt. Wendigo instantly knew his intent.
"Finally summoning your spirit, huh. Would've been easier from the start."
"Fuck. You know what summoning a spirit means."
"Yeah. You'll pay the price. But considering the giant you lost, that might've been better."
"Arghhh!!!"
Ryurik flushed red, swallowing his rage. Wendigo wasn't wrong. How much cost and materials had gone into that giant? At least three years' worth of his shaman earnings.
Losing such a treasure without recovery or salvage tore at his guts.
"Thorn Boar wrapped in roots and branches, this humble shaman calls upon you by contract—reveal yourself!"
The seed left his hand and burrowed into the earth. It sprouted roots, stems, and branches, forming a massive boar resembling a boulder.
The Thorn Boar spirit opened its sleepy eyes and glared down at the cowering Ryurik.
"...Ryurik. You said it was simple when you asked me."
"S-sorry. I thought it was a village with no shaman ties, but suddenly a spirit and shaman appeared, and..."
The boar asked with undisguised contempt, but Ryurik dared not complain. His life hung on the spirit now.
The boar sneered at its foolish contractor and turned to Wendigo.
It mocked him, but even the Thorn Boar had never seen a spirit like Wendigo. Spirits were usually filled with one type of mysticism. Some mixed similar ones—like rock, earth, land, plants—but none blended such disparate auras.
"What's your name? Ice-born giant? Beast racing the tundra?"
"Not some poetic crap—Wendigo's my name, you damn boar."
"...What?"
Caught off-guard by the insult mid-spirit-to-spirit talk, the boar asked dumbly.
Wendigo kindly repeated.
"I said my name's Wendigo, you ugly boar. Can't you keep those wriggling roots still?"
"Y-you spirit with that ragged mysticism dare—!"
Spirits were arrogant and selfish, but they kept minimal courtesy among themselves—an unspoken rule among the world's noblest beings.
Of course, Wendigo didn't care. To him, spirits were just monsters lucky enough to be born with mysticism.
"Shut up and charge. Scared? Then tuck tail and scram."
"You think you can kill this body? As if!"
"Yeah, piglet. Can't even eat you—worse than a normal pig."
The Thorn Boar spirit lost its reason and charged at Wendigo.