Black Soil and the Earth Dragon Legend
"I'm a disqualified shaman. Rather than living while causing trouble like this, it's better to set aside the grace Lord Wendigo bestowed upon me and become a wilder..."
"Calm down. Nothing major has happened yet. It's just that the soil has turned a bit black."
As Skadi muttered with soulless eyes, Wendigo panicked and tried to bolster her spirits. He hadn't called her to scold her in the first place. He'd only summoned her out of curiosity to analyze the cause... And above all, to Wendigo's senses, the soil felt completely harmless.
"Now, settle your mind and focus on the soil. Do you sense any impure energy from it?"
Skadi cautiously lifted her head to examine the soil. It had lost its former fine brown hue and turned black, but it didn't seem contaminated. If anything, the faint vitality emanating from it felt almost gentle.
Skadi carefully scooped up some soil, fiddled with it, and sniffed it. There was no sticky foulness or vomit-like stench typical of pollutants—just the right moisture and a subtle grassy scent.
Skadi rummaged through her knowledge and identified the soil.
"This is... black soil, I think."
"Black soil?"
Skadi nodded hesitantly. Her confidence had plummeted due to the unexpected turn of events.
Regardless of Skadi's reaction, Wendigo was surprised by the term "black soil." It wasn't some fantastical dirt from a fantasy tale. It existed on Earth too. The most famous regions were the black soil belts in Eastern Europe, including Russia and Ukraine.
'The name sounds like cursed land, but it's actually the opposite.'
Black soil belts were, in plainer terms, fertile land. Composed of nutrient-rich chernozem, it was perfect soil for growing plants.
But... why on earth had this soil appeared where he'd buried—no, planted—the heart?
"This soil didn't appear for no reason. Do you have any guesses?"
"Give me a moment. Let me think..."
Skadi straightened her posture and sank into thought. Once again, the honor of a shaman was at stake.
'I have to get this right, for Mother's name!'
Her late mother had committed some sin or other, but regardless, Skadi racked her brains through her knowledge. And she deduced a plausible explanation.
She began drawing on the ground to illustrate as she spoke. She sketched a large heart and wrote "300 years" beside it.
"The heart Lord Wendigo brought isn't ordinary. Honestly... I can hardly believe a beast that lived for three hundred years even existed."
"Is that such a stretch? I thought magical beasts could transcend lifespans too."
"Well... unlike spirits, magical beasts get hunted frequently. Probably because there's so much to gain from them."
"......"
Wendigo found it absurd, but it made a certain sense. Even in the modern world, plenty of animals had gone extinct or nearly so because they were tasty or good for health. Magical beasts offered tangible benefits you could feel in your skin, so it wasn't surprising humans risked their lives to hunt them. Catching even one could make you a hero!
For some, it was a chance to turn their lives around completely.
"Compared to elusive spirits that are useless even if caught, magical beasts would make your mouth water. I get that long-lived ones are rare. But what does that have to do with this?"
"Mother said byproducts from magical beasts over a hundred years old could craft peerless treasures."
She drew treasures she knew beside the heart: a hammer that summoned lightning, a belt imbued with a giant's strength, a dagger that reduced foes to a puddle of blood... In old tales, heroes' extraordinary treasures were sometimes divine gifts, but more often crafted from magical beasts the heroes had slain.
She wrote numbers beside the treasures. From as little as fifty years to a maximum of a hundred.
But three hundred years was reserved solely for Gikas's heart.
"This is Mother's estimate of the beast's level. She thought you'd need at least that to make such items. But the heart Lord Wendigo brought is three hundred years old."
"So, roughly equivalent to burying three treasures?"
Skadi shook her head. Was it not that impressive?
"Worse than that. Three different treasures, maybe—but this is one. And it's the heart, containing the strongest power."
"......"
Skadi had learned you could craft treasures from beasts that lived fifty years. But the one Wendigo slew had lived three hundred. The depth of mystery in Gikas's heart was unmatched by any other treasure.
Naturally, no one would bury such a thing. Humans might find it creepy but would fight to use it immediately.
'No wonder. I thought it just hid underground for three hundred years like any other, but it was more impressive than I realized.'
Gikas's pride made sense now. All others died before a hundred years, but it had lived three hundred. Lacking pride would have been weirder.
...Truly a pitiful worm—no, parasite.
Skadi depicted mysticism rising from the earth, gathering around the heart, and continued.
"Mother taught me to let nature's flowing mysticism cleanse the essence. But this heart's depth is different. It's not cleansing—it's clashing outright."
"Then shouldn't the soil rot? Its mysticism doesn't coexist with nature."
"That's a different matter. Even if it doesn't coexist, its root originates from nature."
Elephant-killing poison, plagues slaying thousands, swarms of pests spreading disease—even human-made herbicides. All stemmed from nature in essence.
They were just particularly nasty in nature.
Before great nature's might, Gikas's mysticism was merely an exceptionally nasty variant.
"Ultimately, this heart's mysticism will crumble before nature's power... And this soil is the byproduct. That's my theory."
"I see."
Right or wrong, Wendigo accepted it. He was a monster who'd accidentally become spirit-like, not deeply tied to shamanism.
Trusting those with profound understanding, experience, and knowledge was wisest for such complexities. Amateurs meddling only caused problems.
Besides...
'A worm monster like in that movie making soil fertile? Not surprising at all.'
Frankly, Gikas looked so worm-like that fertile soil from its heart felt fitting, regardless of origin. If issues arose later, he could deal with the heart then.
Wendigo encouraged the fidgeting Skadi, who looked up at him anxiously.
"As expected, you're the only shaman I can trust. I hope you'll keep helping me in the future too."
"If I can be of even slight help, it's my joy!"
She regained her confidence and answered brightly. In conclusion, the heart's fate was unknown, but Skadi was happy and Wendigo satisfied—what could be better?
Sometimes, glossing over things worked out fine.
Time flowed on as the heart emitted something between toxin and nourishment.
Leaves fell, trees went bald, and animals began wintering in their ways. Naturally, people prepared to endure the winter too—stockpiling food, gathering firewood, repairing homes against the cold winds...
Thanks to Skadi's totems, this winter's chill was milder; otherwise, they might have faced death.
'The village owes her a lot.'
"Kweeeek!?"
Wendigo, who had hunted an elk with his spear (no death scream this time), thought as he returned to the village.
Honestly, for village matters, Skadi's efforts shone brighter than his. Unlike Wendigo, she was human. Forming common ground between modern and medieval humans was tough.
Skadi understood people's hardships intimately and helped as much as she could.
'That's why crowds gather for her speeches.'
Wendigo gazed at Skadi in the village clearing, captivating the crowd. Her bright smile, waving staff drawing cheers—she rivaled a politician...
'No, not quite.'
Wendigo shook his head, dispelling the thought. What did Skadi lack to win support? She'd already enchanted them with ability and character. She did it because she enjoyed it.
"When Lord Wendigo extracted the mysticism from the evil earth dragon, it lost its power and perished. Yet even in death, its mysticism lingered!"
'She's really into it.'
Wendigo chuckled at Skadi's flushed, animated face. But earth dragon? He'd never caught one.
Wendigo approached slowly. Unaware of his presence, Skadi continued excitedly.
"When he planted that extracted mysticism in the earth, the greedily wielded power returned to its natural course, enriching the soil! This black soil is proof!"
'From parasite to earth dragon in an instant.'
Wendigo was dumbfounded. Gikas the parasite becoming an earth dragon was one thing, but its mysticism had zero soil ties... Now it was a legendary villain stealing the land's mysticism.
Skadi's embellishments were part of it, but the warriors egged it on. Drunk on honor, they puffed their chests boastfully.
"Hah, it was amazing. The evil earth dragon's minions howled and charged, but we, servants of the spirit, drew our swords without fear!"
"When the spirit hurled a massive ice spear, screams erupted like the world was crumbling!"
'Have these guys forgotten they fought parasites?'
Even rebutting warriors now believed 'Oh, it was an earth dragon!' Skadi's exaggerated tale became truth.
Someone in the crowd spotted Wendigo and pointed. He strode toward them.
"Spirit Lord! Is it true you slew an earth dragon?"
"Can we live on fertile land from now on?"
'Denying it would disappoint them hugely.'
As eyes sparkled at him, Wendigo glanced at Skadi. She shone brighter than anyone.
Another spirit would praise: 'Not bad for a human!' Shamans couldn't inspire true worship—people's distrust of spirits was ironclad.
But look at them now—like fairies or mountain gods had appeared from tales.
Wendigo sensed something beyond respect.
Before, he'd have recoiled from such emotions, waving them off—unfamiliar with such treatment.
But now?
"Yes. After a fierce battle, I ripped out its heart. I returned its mysticism to nature, so soon this land will be prime farmland."
"Ooooooh!!!"
Wendigo tossed the distant elk aside and affirmed it coolly. He took the cheers without flinching.
Receiving worship felt natural now. Life had thickened his skin.
It had reasons, though.
'If I can't live quietly, I must become the pinnacle.'
Spirits, shamans, magical beasts... Unimaginable things kept emerging.
Even wilder ones could bare fangs anytime.
To survive, one way: grow strong enough none dare touch you!
Strong now, but complacency was folly. Seize chances passing by.
Truth or embellishment, no shame in worship...
"Spirit Lord, look upon us with favor!"
"With favor!!!"
'...Still a bit embarrassing.'
Some conscience remained. Wendigo pushed through the shame.