The Warrior Rektar Brought Was Out of His Mind
The warrior Rektar had brought was not in his right mind. His trembling eyes darted around ceaselessly, and his body was hunched tight, ready to bolt at any moment. It was a sight utterly unworthy of a plains warrior, and Rektar scowled in disgust. What the hell had he seen in that forest to end up like this?
OneTon swallowed his rage and grilled the warrior. "Speak. What did you see in the forest?"
"Forest... forest? Yeah, we were in the forest. In the forest."
The deranged warrior kept mumbling the word forest over and over. He was far from normal. Growing impatient, OneTon heaved his massive bulk upright and locked eyes with the man.
A sinister mysticism flickered to life in OneTon's gaze. Unlike most spirits who dismissed shamanism as trivial, OneTon believed it had its uses when wielded right. And this was exactly that moment.
The warrior met OneTon's eyes and fell into the spell, his reason slipping away bit by bit. Rektar glared at OneTon for that foul sorcery. No matter how urgent things were, this was his subordinate—how dare he cast spells willy-nilly?
"Couldn't you have tried something gentler?"
"Shut your trap. If you want to complain, blame your weakling warrior. How frail do you have to be to lose your mind after one defeat?"
A perfect OneTon response, one that knew just how to grate on nerves. Ignoring Rektar's reaction, OneTon commanded the warrior.
"Recall what you saw and heard."
"Forest... snow mist... giant..."
The warrior, Sekunda, dredged up his memories and slowly began to speak.
Sekunda was a dog beastman and warrior of the Blue Mane tribe. The unit he belonged to had entered the forest on Rektar's orders.
The forest was colder and darker than any woodland or plain Sekunda had ever known, but he wasn't worried.
'Punks hiding in a forest can't be that tough, no matter how strong they think they are.'
This forest was the end of the line for losers and fugitives. It was so infamous that even the beastmen of the vast plains called it the Edge of the World. Once you reached it, there was nowhere left to run.
...Not that being pushed all the way to a forest like this sat well with him.
'How the hell did the mighty Blue Mane tribe end up like this...'
"Halt. Human scent ahead."
At the signal from the vanguard, the tribe's great warrior—a goat beastman named Rokhan—the warriors froze in unison. Their beastly eyes gleamed as they peered into the forest depths.
It was pretty far off, shrouded in underbrush, but there was no mistaking the stockade. A decently large, well-built one, but the warriors weren't fazed. Plains nomads made a habit of smashing through palisades like that. A couple of burly guys with two-handed axes could topple it in no time...
"Arf! Arf arf!"
"Easy, easy."
The warriors shot glares at the yapping wolf. OneTon, distrusting their senses, had forced the beast on them... Honestly, they hated it. Filthy temper, ate like a horse, and a pain in the ass to command. Case in point: right now.
Rokhan yanked the leash, trying to calm it, but no dice. The excitement was one thing, but with OneTon's blessing bloating its size, it was a nightmare to control.
'This mutt take after its master? Drunk on human blood?'
But something was off about its howls...
The great warrior sensed something in the wolf that wasn't the usual ravenous ferocity of a starved beast. No way a blessed wolf was scared, right?
'Impossible.'
"Hold up—snow mist rolling in from ahead."
"What?"
The warriors watched in confusion as the scene unfolded. The already dim forest was filling with creeping snow mist.
As it closed in, the wolf recoiled in horror, baring its fangs, then...
"Wha—hey! Damn mutt!"
"Shit—grab it quick!"
...it spun and tried to flee. Rokhan bellowed in disbelief. A blessed wolf, scared of mere snow mist? Absurd!
The warriors held firm despite the wolf's desperate thrashing. If it bolted, OneTon would chew out Rektar, and furious Rektar would chew out them.
"Whine—yiip!"
"You damn mutt... huh?"
"What the—the mist's too thick!"
The snow mist swallowed the warriors in an instant. That was manageable... but then came the real problem.
As the mist thickened, something emerged from within.
It was a giant.
A giant wearing a deer's skull helm, exhaling mist from its maw as it lumbered toward them. A chill raced up the warriors' spines—not fear, exactly, but a prickling unease.
A giant was surprising, sure, but scary? Nah.
'Why the hell am I scared, then?'
They'd faced monsters on par with giants before. Trolls and ogres popped up in the eastern plains now and then. No true warrior cowered at a big body...
Shing.
They drew weapons on instinct, even without Rokhan's order.
One warrior jabbed his spear at the giant's legs, muttering. "Th-that thing... no footprints?"
"!"
A giant at least twice human height, approaching without a sound or print? Unbelievable.
They clenched jaws, realizing it was no ordinary foe. At least they had spirit ties—otherwise, they'd have bolted, screaming of ghosts.
The giant reached toward the ground, and the snow writhed like living serpents, coiling up its arm. In a blink, it formed a hand axe.
Small for the giant's build, but no one relaxed.
...Still, they couldn't track its movements. It blurred, then vanished.
The warriors plunged into chaos, realizing too late. "What!? Where'd it go?!"
"It was right there—"
One warrior glanced around, then froze as eyes turned to him. He noticed the darkening shadows... and the bone-chilling cold.
A draft kissed his nape. He looked up.
"...Ah."
Those were his last words. The giant's axe swung indifferently, sending his head soaring skyward.
The bizarre lack of blood, the giant's utter silence despite being right there—Rokhan screamed the order. "Attack!"
Warriors around the giant moved in terror-fueled frenzy. Swords slashed, axes hacked, spears thrust...
"Wh-what?!"
"This is insane!"
Weapons cleaved empty air. The giant twisted with impossible grace for its size, dodging effortlessly.
They recoiled in shock, too slow to recover. The hand axe whipped like a flail.
Screams echoed as arms and legs flew; the unlucky lost heads. The giant seized a nearby warrior's leg and swung him like a club.
Dying to an axe was brutal; getting pulped by a comrade was worse. Screams collided in a gruesome burst.
Cries and blood mingled in chaos. Sekunda panicked, dropping his spear.
One thought filled his mind: 'Run or die!'
No pride or honor left—just flight. He glanced back mid-escape.
Rokhan, cursing him, split in half. Sekunda whipped his head away, startled.
No time for guilt. Escape or die.
The others thought the same, fleeing after him—but slower.
"Aaaagh!!!"
"Sekunda, help!!!"
One by one, comrades' presences winked out, screams and curses fading.
Terrifying. When silence fell, that meant his turn.
"Arf!"
"Gah!?"
Sekunda startled at the wolf's howl beside him—the first to sense danger, panting as it ran.
Eye contact sparked dread. Even a normal wolf creeped him out; this was OneTon's blessed beast.
"Get lost!"
"Grrr..."
The wolf bit his leg. Fangs shredded leather armor and soft flesh alike.
Pain buckled him. He tried rising, failed. The wolf fled into the distance. Sekunda despaired.
'...This is how I go.'
Acceptance washed away fear, leaving emptiness. He rolled over, facing the giant.
It stood nearby, halted.
'Mutt lived?'
Unfair. Who wants their bait surviving? Luckily, the giant disagreed.
Its hand axe cleaved the air, bisecting the wolf at the waist. Sekunda watched, sighing.
"Ha... Never stood a chance, huh."
The giant approached. Slowly? No clue. It was right there, yet its speed eluded him.
Only when it loomed did he register it fully. The skull cracked open, revealing abyssal black.
Not wearing a skull—that was its head. So that was its... mouth? Could you call it that?
'Dunno... Just end it.'
Sekunda stared blankly, praying those teeth ripped his throat quick.
But the giant didn't bite.
It reached into its own maw.
"...?"
Sekunda froze at the incomprehensible sight. The giant withdrew...
"A seed?"
No time to question. Claws pried his mouth open.
Overwhelming force gaped his jaws. Jawbone-crushing agony tore screams from him.
"Aaaaaagh!!!"
Something pierced his teeth. Pain was bad; the why terrified more. Why plant a seed in teeth?
Claws withdrew; he spat blood. Fingers probed, but the seed stayed lodged.
What kind of seed fit in a mouth...? He didn't want to imagine.
"What... what did you do!!"
"Quiet."
Heart-stopping pressure sealed his lips. One word, heavy as a mountain.
The giant bored into his eyes. "I'll spare your life. Return to base. Make it back safe, you live... fail, and leave it to your imagination."
"Wha—what!?"
Sekunda flailed, but the giant was gone.
He stared blankly at the spot, at mangled comrades. Too brutal for a dream, too real for nightmare.
Gum throbbed; he clutched his jaw. Sharp pain, sharper foreign lump. Limping up, thought fled.
He clung to one thing: the giant's final words. Or face unimaginable doom.
And that was Sekunda's tale.
OneTon scowled. He'd never dreamed the Wendigo itself would move.
"That undignified bastard..."
"Who? You know this giant the warrior described?"
"Yeah. That's why—wait... hold on."
OneTon's eyes flashed. He bit Sekunda's head clean off.
Hot blood splattered; the head rolled.
Had the spirit finally snapped? Rektar drew steel.
"You mad spirit—crossed the line at last!"
"There's reason. Calm down."
"Shut it! After ripping the throat of a warrior who barely survived, your excuse is—?!"
Rektar roared, then gaped. A seed tumbled from Sekunda's mouth, burrowing into soil.
It sprouted in seconds, forming a shape: bulging muscles, deer skull head.
The seed-tree became the Wendigo.
Cracking wood echoed briefly.
—Oh. It works.
"You son of a—"
The wooden Wendigo's casual words unleashed OneTon's killing intent in a guttural snarl.