No Mercy for the Weak
People agonized over whether they'd seen an illusion, or if they'd been possessed by an evil spirit. Seeing armed warriors sliced in half without a single act of resistance lacked any sense of reality.
What dragged them back to harsh reality wasn't the warriors' deaths, but the terrifyingly frigid chill. The cold that had frozen the warriors' bodies was now heading straight for them.
As the icy chill and cold reality crashed over them, the gruesome scene etched itself into their eyes: bisected corpses, a monster wearing a deer's skull inverted on its head, the massive greatsword in the monster's hand, and the blood frozen solid on its blade.
The Wendigo retrieved his sword. He had no intention of swinging it again, but the mere motion plunged them into terror. Cleaving six or seven people in a single stroke was that shocking and horrifying a sight.
The people screamed.
"Hii, hiiiik!!!"
"It's an evil spirit! A real evil spirit!!!"
Even the bravest soul would fear watching someone die right before their eyes—how much more so for ordinary folk? They couldn't even dream of swinging a weapon. If trained warriors had perished without proper resistance, what could they possibly do?
They turned tail and fled without a backward glance. They didn't hesitate to shove aside anyone in their path—the fear had burrowed straight to their bones.
Skadi watched the scene with a mix of satisfaction and bitterness. It hit her hard that these frail weaklings had tormented her simply because she lacked strength.
The Wendigo read her emotions and asked, "Good thing you don't seem to have any lingering attachments or pity for them. Not a single one of those people ever offered you help?"
"They were all too busy scorning me as cursed. No one ever helped. Can you believe the only beings who've ever helped me in life are my mother and the spirits?"
His question ignited the embers of rage in her heart like a spark to dry tinder.
The Wendigo pitied Skadi, but he also felt it was for the best. He had no intention of letting them live.
'They've seen my face and form. And they witnessed me killing people.'
People who treated someone as a monster just for having unusual hair and eye color would never accept his existence. They might be terrified now, but fear and horror faded with time. Once that happened, they'd stop at nothing to slay the monster.
Since a clash was inevitable, eliminating the root of the problem now was the smart move.
"I'll go deal with the escapees, so wait here. Oh, do you have a weapon?"
"No. I didn't have time to grab anything when I fled... But there are weapons from the warriors, so I can use one of those."
The Wendigo glanced at the dead warriors' weapons, then at Skadi's slender arms. No way could those brutish axes or swords be wielded by limbs like hers.
He manipulated the cold to form a dagger. It was rough in appearance, but infused with chill, a single stab would sever an opponent's breath in an instant.
"Here. This dagger holds the cold—stab with it, and it'll easily kill a person."
"Th-thank you!"
Skadi accepted it reverently, stunned. She hadn't expected a spirit to give her something like this. And it wasn't just any object—it brimmed with a spirit's mysticism.
She gasped upon sensing how vicious a mysticism it contained. Crude-looking, sure, but wielded well, it could slay six or seven people!
Skadi meant to refuse such a thing, but the words died in her throat. The Wendigo who had handed it over had vanished as if he'd never been there.
Alone in the quiet forest, she stared blankly at the dagger.
The Wendigo raced through the forest, lost in thought. He felt he'd changed too much.
'My speech is weird now, and more than that, I'm no murderer, but I feel almost no aversion to killing.'
He'd been numb to it even hunting the bear. And right now was no different.
The Wendigo stopped at a suitable spot and hurled an ice spear. It pierced the dense forest and impaled the chest of a fleeing man.
Once he recognized the oddity, other anomalies jumped out. Killing was one thing, but his spear-throwing skill wasn't his at all.
'Is this something a normal person could do? No way in hell.'
Even an expert archer would struggle to hit a distant target in this thick woods, let alone a normal person with a thrown spear.
All of it was unimaginable before becoming the Wendigo.
At this point, he had to admit it.
'Becoming the Wendigo changed me too.'
Just swapping bodies wasn't enough. His mind—or something deeper—had transformed.
But... was that a bad thing? It didn't seem so.
Without the change, how could he wield mystical power? Building muscle required training and diet; becoming a doctor demanded years of knowledge. Everything had a price.
He might not be human anymore, but he wanted to live. And surviving this brutal world required power. If the cost was strange speech and no qualms about killing, he'd pay it a hundred times over.
"If it's for survival, no choice. Besides... no aversion doesn't mean I'm bloodthirsty. What do you think?"
"Gah!?"
Hiding in darkness and brush did them no good. The repulsive afterscent leaking from their bodies betrayed their positions.
The Wendigo seized the neck of a man cowering behind a tree.
"Gurk!? Sp-spare..."
"Your sins reek to high heaven. Loathing and rape, even. Are you really human? More beast than animal."
Grown accustomed to reading desires and emotions, the Wendigo now discerned sins from their stench. Fitting for a superstitious fool chasing a woman—he was trash.
He squeezed without hesitation. His claws dug into the man's throat, ending him.
The loathing from the man vanished like mist, replaced by refreshment.
The Wendigo bounded through the woods, slaying foes. No one could stop the silently appearing monster.
In moments, the living humans in the dim forest numbered just one: Skadi.
"Mercy, mercy!?"
The Wendigo pierced the last survivor's heart with a spear, then followed Skadi's presence back to her.
She jumped at his sudden appearance. He hadn't been gone long; she hadn't expected him so soon.
"Sp-spirit! You're back!"
"Call me Wendigo, not spirit. Sorry about that. Some I missed came after you."
He glanced at the corpses around her and spoke.
Two men lay clutching their guts and chests, faces twisted in agony.
Skadi, stunned that the Wendigo would worry for her, waved it off instinctively.
"No! Thanks to the dagger you bestowed, I wasn't hurt at all! I should be thanking you!"
"Glad to hear it. But... you okay? That was your first kill."
He was a monster now; killing people barely fazed him. But she was human. She might've stabbed in the heat of mortal danger, driven by survival, but now?
Skadi nodded at his question. She glared venomously at the corpses, as if it were the dumbest question ever.
"My mother always said showing hesitation or mercy to an enemy who bares their fangs is foolish. In a world where even protecting yourself and yours is a struggle, that's a luxury for the rich."
"A world too harsh to protect even your own... Spot on. Wise mother and daughter."
The Wendigo agreed. In a world where blades flew at you for being different, hardening your heart was wisdom. Otherwise, you'd die screaming without warning.
Skadi let out an awkward laugh, unused to human-like empathy from a spirit. Flushing at the first praise since her mother, she changed the subject.
"Wendigo. Thank you for granting my request. Now that you've helped me, I must pay the price. Tell me—what do I owe you?"
Skadi fixed him with resolute eyes.
Though she'd never contracted a spirit, her knowledge rivaled a master shaman. Spirit power was never free. Contracts were mere prep for borrowing power, and borrowing demanded payment.
Sometimes it was simple: tasty offerings or rare herbs. Other times, livestock lives or property. Worse cases demanded a virgin's life or a limb.
Life-related prices came with immense power...
'And this situation calls for it. He saved my life, and over twenty others he took.'
At minimum, payment tied to twenty-one lives. Even "half your life" would be fair.
Her resolve was nothing less than readiness to die.
'I'd be dead without meeting Wendigo. If that's what he wants!'
"Nothing grand. Just tell me about this world, spirits, and evil spirits. That's enough."
"......"
Skadi wondered if she'd misheard. Even steeling herself, with her life on the line, weak thoughts might creep in.
"N-no, I misspoke."
"!"
As the Wendigo seemed to backtrack, Skadi steeled herself again.
Of course! A great spirit like this wouldn't want such a paltry price!
She straightened, ready to listen.
The Wendigo stroked his chin and corrected himself.
"You've probably never left the village, so the wider world might be unknown. Spirits and evil spirits alone will do."
"......"
Skadi felt like a fool.