The Spirit's Mercy and the Village's Plea
The warriors stared up at the Wendigo in dazed horror. At least until the monsters had swarmed, they'd clung to some shred of hope—even if it was the desperate kind squeezed from their duty to defend the village. But now? There was none.
"Agh..."
"G-get it together! We have to get up and run!"
Was that thing really alive? Or was it something that shouldn't even exist in this world? As the ominous deer-skull head slowly parted, the warriors sprawled on the ground trembled in terror. It felt like the creature would curse their souls with its damned voice any second now, then hack them into mincemeat with that massive blade.
Is it coming closer? Or not? I can't tell. It's right there in front of me, but I don't sense any presence.
The discordant sensations scrambled their minds. Dmitri would have preferred to just pass out. At least then he wouldn't die in terror. He stared at the giant before him and tried to squeeze his eyes shut.
But...
"Looks like I showed up a bit late. Sorry about that. I should've gotten here before the palisade fell."
"...Pardon?"
Dmitri wondered for a moment if he'd lost his mind. The words spilling from the giant's mouth weren't curses or screams.
He glanced around blankly. His comrades wore the same shattered expressions. So it wasn't his imagination?
Warriors emerged from behind the giant, helping their fallen kin. Dmitri grabbed the arm of a man who seemed to be their leader.
"Wh-what the hell is that thing?"
Geron's brow twitched at the word "thing." How dare he use such language for the Spirit.
Patience. He's not one who's received the Spirit's grace yet.
Geron straightened and addressed Dmitri sternly. "Watch your tongue. The Spirit is merciful, but we who serve him are not."
"Th-the Spirit?"
Why would a spirit be here of all places? Dmitri shot a confused glance at the giant's back. There was something awe-inspiring about the sword-bearing colossus.
The giant—Wendigo—glanced back slyly. Meeting his gaze, Dmitri swallowed hard.
What the hell is it thinking?
Even as he retreated with the warriors' aid, Dmitri couldn't shake the question. And another one flitted through his mind.
He smashed the palisade himself—why bring it up like that...?
Dmitri departed, questions unanswered.
Wendigo watched the departing warriors with relief.
Good, we glossed over that naturally.
Truth be told, he'd panicked when his sword struck the palisade. With no good spot to test his new power, he'd accidentally put too much force into it. It was a foolish slip that nearly drew a sigh, but Wendigo kept his cool and thought fast. Third-raters regretted mistakes and froze; second-raters analyzed them to fix errors. First-raters? They turned slip-ups into profit.
In that sense, Wendigo was pretty first-rate.
It was on the verge of collapsing anyway.
He was shameless. If not, could a spirit-tongued monster like him have settled in a village, lounging while folks offered him meals? A doomed palisade might as well boost ties between him and the village.
Shamelessness really clears the mind.
"Kraaaack!!!"
As his heart settled like a calm lake, the sludge piles sprawled before him came into focus. He'd overlooked their faces amid the bear frenzy earlier.
"Tch, what hideous mugs."
"Kyaaak!!!"
With the palisade down, monsters surged in with roars, wave-like. Wendigo raised a hand, drawing up mysticism. Massive roots erupted like spear blades, impaling monsters into a wall. Frost coated the roots' frame, turning them into a frigid barrier far sturdier than any wooden stockade.
Realizing they couldn't breach it, the monsters swarmed the one gap—the spot centered on Wendigo.
"Sword won't do for tight quarters like this."
As if reflecting his will, the blade morphed into a blunt, hefty club. Wendigo swung it experimentally, nodding at the satisfying balance.
"Perfect."
As he twitched the weapon, monsters bared fangs with furious bellows. Pure, brainless violence—no hint of intellect. It would make any normal person's skin crawl...
"Kee..."
"Shut it!!!"
Boom!!!
Not Wendigo. He lacked the capacity for fear. His raging swings pulped monsters into unrecognizable mush. Some flew into the barrier, leaving smears. Lost in the frenzy, Wendigo whirled his bloodied club. Crunching bones, ripping flesh, pitiful monster wails echoed through the forest.
After a moment, he planted the dripping club and scanned the survivors.
"Grrr..."
"Heh, after rampaging like mad beasts, now you're playing cautious."
Dozens reduced to gore-puddles, and suddenly the rest acted with cunning, eyeing him warily. A bloody silence hung between Wendigo and the horde.
The monsters moved first. They slunk back into the forest shadows, savagery spent.
Wise. And that's what creeps me out.
Wendigo sensed something off in their retreat. Was that monster-like? No way. Rabid beasts wouldn't withdraw; smart ones wouldn't have slammed the palisade to begin with.
As they vanished fully, Wendigo surveyed the gore-strewn ground. Amid blood, chunks, and shards, he picked something up.
"...What's this?"
The worm-like thing wriggled its hexagonal maw. Wendigo squashed it. The stench faded.
So these worms were the source? The chill he'd unleashed froze the filth, banishing the foul odor like a lie.
"The monsters weren't the stink's culprits—these worms were."
"Spirit, are you alright?"
Geron and Dmitri approached. Geron, having witnessed the Thorn Boar spirit literally torn apart, wasn't fazed by the carnage. But Dmitri was. As the blood-drenched Wendigo lowered his gaze, chills raced down Dmitri's spine. Instinctively, he dropped to his knees, forehead to dirt.
He bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Spare my life alone and vent your wrath!!"
"......"
Wendigo stared blankly. He'd saved them—why offer his neck now?
"Dmitri! What are you doing?!"
At least the others have brains...
"You risked your life for us—now we sacrifice!"
"Spirit, spare this fool and take mine!"
Wendigo sighed at the absurd village drama. He turned to Geron, who'd watched with faint amusement.
"Do I look that scary?"
"Yes, frankly you do. And right now, even more so."
"Ah."
Only then did Wendigo notice his blood-soaked state. A gore-smeared deer skull atop a giant wielding a stained club? Anyone would suspect psycho if they weren't terrified.
Planting a good first impression is this damn hard!
What a headache.
Through Geron's tirade and Ivan's explanations, the village accepted Wendigo's presence. To express gratitude to his group, they held a modest feast.
Of course, a spirit aiding humans for free was like lightning from a clear sky—hard to swallow. But...
"This food's exquisite. You've got a fine wife."
"Hahaha! If the Spirit praises it, my life's been worthwhile!"
Setting aside his looks and power, Wendigo seemed a good spirit—so they had no choice but to believe. A spirit savoring human fare and trading blessings? Dmitri could scarcely credit his eyes.
He filled a mug with beer and approached Wendigo.
"Does the Spirit drink as well?"
"I can, but I don't get drunk. A pity."
"Haha, a being like you drunk would be trouble anyway."
Wendigo couldn't argue. One bender and he'd level a village or two.
Watching Wendigo devour a pig's foreleg, Dmitri sipped his beer.
"Really, without you, I can't even imagine the horror."
"You could've held even without me."
"Heh, grateful words, but doubtful. They'd have fought to the last without you."
Dmitri washed down the bitterness with beer. Wendigo agreed—they'd been lucky. Without his timely arrival, the horde wouldn't have retreated. Even victorious, the village would've crumbled.
Knowing that, perhaps? Dmitri drained his mug and knelt before Wendigo.
"Not pulling that again from hours ago, right? You're no reckless spirit who claims lives lightly."
"It's not that. I have a request for you, Spirit."
Intrigued by Dmitri's resolute tone—clearly the village's core—Wendigo perked up. What would make such a man kneel?
"Speak. If it's not too big, I'll hear it."
"It might be big."
Dmitri bowed. Unlike their first meeting's desperation, this was sincere reverence and awe.
"Spirit. Take us in."
"Hmm..."
Wendigo stroked his chin, gazing down imperiously at Dmitri.