The Whispering Mother's Folly
Wendigo stared at the corpse with cold, jaded eyes. The fact that it was a parasite was bad enough, but its attitude was utterly ridiculous.
Spirits or evil ghosts or whatever—they're all basically rude as hell.
Proposing a deal while starting the greeting with a curse? Even the most forgiving being would be dumbfounded. Of course, Wendigo hadn't rejected the deal just because of its bad attitude. He could always hear out the terms and decide whether to kill it afterward.
The real reason he'd shut down the parasite's offer outright was the mysticism it harbored. A foul, decade-old sludge of power. Wendigo wasn't reckless enough to bargain with something that reeked of obvious danger.
He was convinced his judgment had been spot-on. The mysticism hadn't dissipated even after the parasite died. If it lingered post-mortem, that meant the parasite wasn't its true master.
Clearly, this "mother" or "master" character had pulled some strings.
Maybe a closer inspection would reveal something.
But it was so repulsive he didn't even want to get near it... Caught between disgust and necessity, Wendigo sighed and approached the corpse. A job started was a job finished, after all.
He extended a hand slowly toward the body, wrapping himself in mysticism as a precaution against any surprises. The moment his claw touched it, the mysticism within the corpse surged.
Wendigo clicked his tongue inwardly.
Of course. No way something this nasty would just be hanging around without a reason.
The corpse's mouth gaped open, and a swarm-like mysticism reminiscent of flies emerged. Wendigo was about to infuse his claws with frost to scatter it when he paused.
The mysticism writhed before him, and a grotesque voice began to emanate from it.
『Is it you? The foolish spirit who stole my poor child's life without permission.』
"Permission? If I asked and you said yes, would you be fine with me killing your kid? Cut the bullshit and either vanish or get to the point."
『...A spirit who fears nothing in this world, flapping your mouth so carelessly. Do you think you could say that if you knew what I am?』
"If you didn't like it, you should've revealed yourself from the start. You and your spawn—both idiots who think threats are clever."
The mysticism roiled violently, expressing rage. He didn't know its true nature, but his taunt had clearly hit hard.
If I unleashed the insults I learned in my past life, it'd probably spit blood.
A grinding sound echoed from beyond the mysticism—like teeth gnashing. It had quite the set, judging by the racket.
『If you so desperately want to know my identity, I'll tell you.』
The mysticism spread wide, projecting an image. Its chitin-covered body stretched like a serpent, and its hexagonal maw—packed with human-arm-thick fangs—was horrifically savage. Six eerie, glowing eyes flashed as thorny tentacles whipped from its mouth like a tongue.
『I am the Whisperer, Gikas. Demonic beast and mother of parasites.』
So basically a smart monster parasite. Got it.
Gikas introduced itself with majestic gravitas, but Wendigo remained unimpressed. A useless parasite was still a useless parasite. At least its name was normal—no headache figuring out what to call it.
『I know why you're so arrogant. The depth of the mysticism forming your body is at least a hundred—no, two hundred years old.』
Wendigo didn't argue. There was no point. It was patting itself on the back solo—what was there to say?
Gikas sneered at Wendigo. His silence convinced it that its words had struck true.
『Indeed. With no fear of the world. What could frighten a great spirit who's lived two centuries? But the world always has something greater above...』
"Your intro's dragging on forever. Hurry up and get to the point so you can fuck off."
Wendigo winced even as he said it. He'd meant to think it, not blurt it out.
Interrupted and insulted again, Gikas's mouth yawned wide, baring its writhing fangs. They were intimidating enough, but if that scared him, he'd have hidden away long ago. Wendigo snorted, and Gikas rasped like clearing phlegm, glaring murderously.
"If you're not coming here, then wrap up your story quick."
『Your arrogance knows no bounds! Fine. If you're so confident, come to the mountain.』
Gikas bellowed triumphantly, and Wendigo froze. Just to be sure, he asked,
"...You're not saying your lair's in the mountains, are you?"
『So suspicious. Or are you scared? Head north, and you'll find the mountain. My lair is there—come if you dare!』
Wendigo was dumbfounded. Who in their right mind revealed their own hideout? Unless it was lying, but no—this was the most honest thing it'd said. Like a flower blooming from sewer filth.
No total moron would do that without some plan... but damn, it feels that idiotic.
Gikas had called him arrogant, but to Wendigo, Gikas was the real fool. Why else spill your location? Even with traps, it was coming anyway...
He pondered if there was more to squeeze out, but before he could use it, Gikas's mysticism faded, spent.
Thought the idiot had more to give. Pity.
Still, its foolishness made planning easy. Wendigo's eyes gleamed as he hoisted the corpse.
The Whisperer, Gikas, boasted a massive bulk belying its claim as "mother of parasites." Big enough to swallow a bear whole, its size was anything but natural—and unnatural things had causes.
Gikas's enormity came from endless moltings. As a mysticism-born beast—a demonic beast—it had shed the shackles of lifespan.
Its innate nature allowed such patient lurking.
How long had it waited for this day!
Not a bear, wolf, or even cat—but a parasite. Realizing its frailty after hijacking bodies and stealing knowledge, Gikas had schemed from its cave, bulking up to surpass its limits. Swallowing victims brought by its spawn, it grew like a venomous gu for three hundred years.
Now, the time had come.
No one can stop me now!
Its shell was rock-hard, fangs could rend steel, and its muscled bulk could crush a bear in one thrash. Fearless, it revealed its lair to Wendigo.
Not mere bravado from strength—it had calculated.
No fool would deny its limits and seek solutions. Gikas trusted human stupidity.
Foolish spirit. Born so powerful, yet clueless how to dominate humans.
Three centuries of devouring them had taught it everything. Humans couldn't be persuaded—overwhelm with force, maybe, but words? Laughable.
Humans were fools: show kindness, and they scorn you; they bickered endlessly, divided by suspicion.
Could a spirit sway them?
Impossible.
Narrow-minded humans wouldn't trust a spirit's warnings after Gikas hid for centuries. They'd doubt endlessly, provoking the spirit.
Then it's over. Whether it snaps and fights them or abandons recruitment—either way, no army for it.
If the spirit won despite that? Only by understanding shallow human hearts—but impossible. Spirits' arrogance was incurable.
How could a spirit grasp what it took Gikas devouring dozens to learn? Pointless worry.
Gikas shifted, jostling the eggs in the cave corner—over a hundred, hatching tomorrow.
It gnashed its teeth, lost in pleasant dilemmas. Which spawn to puppet?
Beasts are fine, but more monsters? No—takes five days for the spirit to arrive. Humans instead...
"Master! Disaster!"
"What? Food short? I said slaughter the fattest for rations."
Interrupted, Gikas spat irritation at its human puppet. The puppet shook its head frantically—not a trivial issue.
"The spirit's leading warriors here! At least two hundred heading this way!"
"!? Impossible. It couldn't gather that many so fast!"
Gikas shook in shock, cracking an egg—but no time to care. How?!