Shamans' Betrayal and the Man-Faced Tree
Gunlord fled without looking back, sweat pouring down his face. At first, he'd realized the Wendigo was a clone and clung to a sliver of fighting spirit. But that spark died the moment he faced the Wendigo's roar and the blizzard of freezing winds and snow-mist that whipped up in its wake. He knew then: this was no foe he could face.
"Horse that runs a hundred li, grant me your tireless stamina and the strength to race like the wind!"
True to his reputation as the most vile and treacherous shaman among those who'd plotted the raid, Gunlord abandoned his comrades without a shred of shame and bolted. The other shamans, stunned that he of all people would flee first, stared at his retreating back in disbelief. This catastrophe was the result of his plan—how could he be so utterly irresponsible?
In the midst of their despair, a young shaman shouted to rally the others. "Everyone, combine our powers and escape! If we pool our strength..."
"You idiot. Can't you see how many clones there are? And you're still talking like that?"
The young shaman's plea was drowned in the shamans' mocking laughter. Shocked as they were by Gunlord's cowardice, they were no better themselves. Seizing the opportunity, one shaman spat on him and began chanting a spell.
"What are you doing!?"
"A talentless fool like you might as well sacrifice yourself for me!"
The curse of madness in the spit burrowed into the young shaman's marrow, igniting his sanity. He let out a horrific roar, his body trembling. His skin flushed red, his eyes clouded over, and his mind forgot all fear.
"Graaaah!!!"
"Go! Pour out everything you've got and die!"
The young shaman—no, the madman—screamed and charged at the Wendigo's clones. The Wendigo watched the spectacle and reevaluated the shamans. He'd thought them trash from the start, but he hadn't expected them to sink this low, beyond all imagination.
My nose for sniffing out scum never fails.
Scum like this deserved a brutal end. Keeping his owl's eyes on the shamans, the Wendigo directed his clones.
"■■■■■!!!"
"Graaaah!!!"
The clones, shrouded in snow-mist, roared and charged. Naturally, they didn't need all of them to deal with one madman. Instinctively activating the tattoos on his body and the lightning-infused iron mace...
The clone didn't wait for the spell to finish. Its frost-laced claws slashed viciously at the madman. The talons shredded his chest. Frost shards and wooden thorns embedded in the wounds writhed, amplifying his agony.
"Kyaeeeeek!!!"
As he screamed, the clone smashed its fist into his head without hesitation. Was it the spell's effect making his body tougher? The madman's skull didn't shatter under the blow. A pity for him—he'd need a few more hits to escape his torment.
Crack!
"Fuck!"
The shaman who'd implanted the curse paled and yelled. He'd expected the spirit to overwhelm him quickly, but not this fast.
Did the young shaman's crushed skull leave a deep impression? The others hardened their faces and ran faster, desperate to put any distance between them and the Wendigo.
As if that'll let you escape the forest.
The owl soared into the sky, tracking the enemies, while the Wendigo directly controlled two clones to form ice harpoons. Roots sprouted from the base like ropes, and the clones hurled them.
The harpoons tore through the air and pierced one shaman's body.
"Ugh, uwaaaah!!!"
Unaware of the attack from the snow-mist, the shaman screamed and clutched his shoulder. His impaled arm froze solid in seconds, devouring his life force. At this rate, death was inevitable.
I have to cut off my arm!
As he drew his sword to amputate, an irresistible force dragged his body into the mist. Gunlord glanced back while running and witnessed it. The shaman's screams echoed through the forest.
What the hell have I stirred up?
Realizing something had gone terribly wrong, Gunlord forced his trembling legs to move faster, desperate to escape the forest.
* * *
Gunlord fled more desperately than ever, but he couldn't escape the forest. It wasn't a lack of ability—his spells should have gotten him out long ago. But...
"This far? Why go to such lengths?!"
"Gunlord! The trees are moving!"
The trees writhed like living things, blocking their path. Gunlord whipped his lash in irritation. It spewed flames, trying to burn the trees, but to no avail. Cold air burst from the peeled bark, swallowing the fire.
Seeing his whip fail, Pedric pulled out his trump card.
"Get out of the way. I'll carve a path with this stone sword!"
The stone sword Pedric drew was a relic from a warrior once called the "Warrior of Rock." Already enchanted, it had grown stronger infused with the hero's fame and legend. Pedric smeared his blood on the blade and chanted.
"Son of the great mountain, warrior of rock, unbreakable hero—obey, stone sword that shared every moment with him. Those trees..."
He flinched. A warning from his danger-sensing talisman made him whip around, eyes wide. hurtling toward him was a harpoon.
It looked ready to skewer him. Pedric screamed reflexively.
"...not the trees—block the harpoon!!"
The sword's enchantment activated, flying from his hand to clash with the harpoon. As expected of a hero's relic, it destroyed the harpoon unscathed and returned to Pedric.
Gunlord and Pedric aimed their weapons at the mist. The clones emerged.
One—the one possessed by the Wendigo—stepped forward and spoke.
"You've come pretty far. I almost lost you."
"Why go this far? What did we do to deserve this?!"
"?"
Gunlord bellowed with venomous eyes, leaving the Wendigo dumbfounded and silent. Hadn't he planned the village raid first? By rights, the Wendigo was just defending itself.
As the Wendigo stared in disbelief, Gunlord racked his brain for a reason. No one would chase them this hard just for a village raid. Controlling the forest and clones like this required mysticism dug straight from the earth.
His eyes flashed with realization.
"I see... now I get it. You're gathering forest folk for some massive ritual."
"What the hel—"
"I knew it. Throwing meaningless questions as a test to hide your secret!"
Before the Wendigo could swear in exasperation, Pedric gasped in shock. It made sense. The mysticism-fueled clones, watchful eyes everywhere, and forest manipulation—it all pointed to a grand scheme.
Pedric's agreement made Gunlord nod firmly. The Wendigo, incredulous, couldn't help refuting them. He planned to kill them anyway, but this absurdity demanded a response.
"Your thinking is pathetic. Use common sense. Forgot why you came to this forest? If I wanted to hide something, why leave Isaac alive?"
"Talkative now, huh? Truth out, pride hurt? Easy to guess why you spared Isaac—to lure us shamans!"
Gunlord had first thought Isaac got lucky, but now he was sure. The ice crystal Isaac brought was tempting to any shaman, and his elevated power sparked curiosity. Perfect bait!
"Whatever ritual it is, you're prepping something evil that needs shamans as sacrifices."
"Anyone hearing this would think I'm the villain. Who poisoned the village and planned the rampage?"
"...That hardly matters now."
Uncomfortable with his own guilt, Gunlord swallowed his shame and pushed back. Cornered beasts always fight. Cloak, shoes, belt, talismans—Gunlord and Pedric activated every spell they had.
The Wendigo was impressed by their mysticism. Vile as wolves, but talented.
If only their character matched their skill, I'd have hired them.
"I won't let you get what you want, even in death!"
Gunlord roared and lashed his whip. Unrestrained, it burned bright with mysticism as fuel, spewing flames.
The Wendigo sent his clones charging but watched calmly. The whip coiled around a clone's neck. The clone grabbed it to tear it, but that was a mistake.
Krrrk!
"Let's see if it moves with its head gone!"
The whip tightened amid tearing screams, nearly severing the neck. Flames erupted, charring the clone's upper body beyond recognition.
Gunlord lunged to finish it, swinging his club embedded with ogre bone. Heat haze rose; it replicated an ogre's strike, smashing the clone's torso.
Boom!
"Hahaha! Pouring mysticism into clones—what good does it do? They're still just clones!"
The clone's upper body flew apart, mysticism dissipating into the air. Gunlord wasn't the only victor. Pedric, master of the stone sword, blocked ice blades with solid defense, then sent it crashing into a clone's chest, caving it in.
Gunlord charged another clone, taunting boldly.
"Lost your composure? Try provoking us now! I'm curious how much mysticism you have left!"
"Why not let us go? Even a great spirit like you can't take us unscathed!"
Pedric shouted, stabbing his sword into a clone's chest. A rational spirit would negotiate secrets for freedom now.
...But the Wendigo defied their logic.
"Impressive skills. Didn't expect the clones to fall so easily."
"Then let us go—"
"But that doesn't mean I have reason to spare black-hearted scum like you."
Pedric grimaced and clicked his tongue. He'd figured the Wendigo wouldn't bargain easily. Wrong assumption.
...The Wendigo had never intended to bargain at all.
"If you're that set on it, fine. Let's see if you can destroy all the clones..."
As Pedric yanked his sword viciously, the clone grabbed the hilt. Pedric scowled, forcing more control. The sword's power should snap the arm easily, but...
"Always thought shamans rely too much on tools."
The clone's mysticism surged. Vines sprouted, binding the sword. The clone reverted to a wooden doll, but Pedric was horrified. His sword, frozen by mere vines!
He opened his spirit eyes. The enchantment still worked. But the vines drew mysticism from the ground, regenerating endlessly.
Pedric gaped at the brute-force seal.
"What kind of insane bullshit is this!?"
"Insane? Overwhelming with numbers is just straightforward tactics."
Pedric wanted to curse the mad spirit's nonsense but leaped back. A clone charged him relentlessly, denying any respite.
"Gunlord, help me quick!"
"Shut up! I'm barely hanging on myself!"
Gunlord was no better. His precious whip and club were useless now!
What kind of idiot uses mysticism like this!?
Whip around the clone, club smash—and cold exploded, freezing and shattering the spells. Without them, the weapons were junk. All they could do was dodge...
"Gahk!?"
"Got one."
Pedric resisted briefly with his tough body but was impaled through the chest by claws and died. Gunlord drew an axe from his belt and cleaved the clone's head, glaring at the dead Pedric and the watching Wendigo as he spat blood.
"I curse you. Even as a ghost in death, I'll haunt you!"
"Impressive venom."
The Wendigo's calm demeanor made Gunlord consider a suicidal charge. But he froze at something odd. The clone that killed Pedric was dragging the corpse toward the Wendigo.
Taking the body back?
No. The Wendigo conjured a seed in his hand.
Stab!
He shoved it into Pedric's corpse. It twitched and moved. The Wendigo watched impassively.
"Hope it grows into a good warning this time."
"What the...!?"
Gunlord backed away in horror. The twitching corpse sprouted buds, growing into a tree. Muscled legs became sturdy roots, arms sprouted leaves and branches. Pedric was a tree now—his death-agony face preserved in the bark.
Gunlord dropped his axe in terror.
"You mad bastard... you fucking madman!!!"
"Don't worry. I'm not tormenting his soul or anything."
Don't worry? How could he trust that? Faced with a future of soul and body defiled, terror-stricken Gunlord turned to flee despite knowing there was no escape.
Naturally, he never left the forest.
Moments later, another agonized scream rang out, and a second man-faced tree grew.