Man-Faced Trees: The Perfect Warning
Wendigo ordered his clones to move the man-faced trees to the temple. They weren't quite as terrifying as the original, but considering how viciously monstrous the clones looked, it wasn't exactly a pleasant sight. The image of hulking brutes with deer-skull heads transplanting trees shaped like humans would have been enough to make the faint-hearted faint on the spot.
Wendigo stared at the man-faced trees now lining the temple entrance and felt a twinge of regret.
'I made them as a warning, but honestly, they're a bit scary even for me.'
Faces of those who had died peacefully could still unsettle some people. So how chilling must faces twisted in agony and despair be?
Wendigo glanced at Skadi and the five shamans who had come to inspect the trees.
'...Not Skadi, but maybe I should've kept the shamans from seeing them.'
They must have known the victims, because every one of the shamans had gone pale, their bodies trembling.
Wendigo pretended not to notice and asked Skadi for her opinion.
"It was meant as a warning, but was it too much?"
"Even if you ask me, I believe everything you do has a reason, Lord Wendigo..."
Skadi shrugged awkwardly, her face troubled. She knew full well she was far more lenient when it came to anything involving Wendigo.
Knowing her personality, Wendigo switched targets. His gaze naturally shifted to the nearest shamans...
"I-if it's what the spirit desires, then it must be the right thing!"
"We only trust and follow the spirit always!"
"...Asking you lot was a mistake too."
Their sycophantic flattery spilled out like a blade-sharp reflex, and Wendigo shook his head.
He sent for Geron. When Geron arrived and saw the man-faced trees "decorating" the temple entrance, he reacted with genuine surprise.
"Trees shaped like humans... remarkable."
"Too much?"
"Pardon? If it's for a warning, I think it's a fine method."
"...What did you just say?"
Wendigo stared at him in disbelief. He hadn't expected the most rational and level-headed man in the village to spout something so eccentric. He wondered if it was a joke, but Geron's expression was quite serious as he replied.
"I think it's a solid approach. A light warning just emboldens bad intentions, but a heavy one keeps people from acting rashly, doesn't it?"
"I'd forgotten you were a warrior once. Should've asked a regular villager."
"Even among warriors, I'm considered pretty cold-blooded... More importantly, for forest folk, this barely qualifies as a warning."
"What do you mean by that?"
As Wendigo looked puzzled, Geron panicked. He assumed Wendigo, of all people, would know the savagery of the forest folk.
Though they were now uniting under Wendigo, until recently, the forest folk had been deeply distrustful and exclusive toward one another. In a land of scarce food and harsh conditions, expecting neighborly kindness was for madmen.
This environment bred wild, hardy people with little fear. Their warnings were never light—they were brutal and unforgettable, designed to crush any thought of trespassing.
"Frankly, these trees..."
"Call them man-faced trees."
"Right. These man-faced trees make for a rather clean warning. They use corpses, sure, but the limbs are intact, and the faces are recognizable."
"Strange. If this is ordinary, why have I never seen one?"
"Corpse warnings rot quickly, and you don't need them without nearby threats. Besides, who would dare leave such a warning for a spirit unless they had a death wish?"
"Fair point."
No one would waste tribesmen's bodies, and beasts might smell the blood. All things considered, the man-faced trees were ideal—no blood scent, yet striking.
"Then at least the forest folk won't fear me because of these."
"Uh..."
"Shh. Best to let it slide."
As Geron started to speak, Skadi swiftly covered his mouth. She doubted Wendigo's methods—tree-fying the living or ripping people apart—would change how people saw him.
...The forest folk already revered and feared him in equal measure.
"Geron. Shall we put one man-faced tree outside the forest... what, two?"
"N-no, nothing like that."
"I was just asking Geron about something I needed help with."
Geron and Skadi exchanged pitying glances, but Wendigo remained oblivious. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.
Separate from their fear of Wendigo, Geron and the forest folk diligently carried out his orders. They trimmed the branches and leaves for better visibility, painted the faces to make expressions more vivid...
As if it had been ages since their last "warning," they approached the man-faced trees with great care.
"Shouldn't we carve some wounds on the faces to make them scarier?"
"Wounds on twisted faces? Might as well hollow out the heart area..."
"Can't this arm move? If we bend it right, it'll look more lifelike."
...Though it might have been less care and more enjoyment.
Still, the forest folk's handiwork was top-notch. The finished man-faced trees were gruesomely lifelike yet easy to identify.
One could almost call them artworks...
"Isn't this just statues?"
"Ahem. Seems everyone got a bit carried away since they've never handled these before."
Geron cleared his throat awkwardly. Real corpses might have turned out rougher and scarier, but these were trees at heart. Even savage forest folk struggled with wooden warnings, so they focused on the material's natural vibe.
The result: six man-faced trees resembling tragic sculptures.
Wendigo admired their artistry—or savagery—while touring the pieces.
"Impressively lifelike. What's that blood-tear stuff made of? Looks real."
"Real blood."
"...No wonder I smelled it."
Wendigo recoiled, turning his face away. This would make a solid warning.
'Good enough?'
Just then, Skadi entered, bowing deeply with a large sheet of leather in hand.
"Lord Wendigo. I inscribed a message on this leather to go with the statues—or warning. Care to see?"
"A message. True, these alone might not convey the point."
'Unless they're idiots, humans turning into trees screams warning.'
Geron shot Wendigo a cold look but held his tongue. It was for Wendigo's dignity—and Skadi's hard work.
Wendigo scanned the leather.
Those who peddle lies.
Those who sin without atonement.
Those who harm others through deceit.
These three shall incur the forest's wrath.
And atone in eternal torment.
"What do you think? I put a lot of thought into it."
"...It's fine, but 'atone in torment'? I can't turn souls or the living into trees. Tormenting the dead? Even less."
Skadi shook her head at his reluctance. Warnings didn't need to be strictly true.
"You could, but you wouldn't turn the living into trees."
"No, I don't have that pow—er, yeah."
Wendigo started to argue but faltered. He hadn't tried, so who knew?
Skadi smiled and nodded.
"I know you're not the type. But as a warning?"
"Hmm. Can't argue."
The threat of no rest after death was potent. Everyone craved peace in the afterlife.
Satisfied, Skadi draped the leather over a statue's shoulder. A despairing face weeping blood-tears, promising eternal pain—eerie indeed.
Wendigo nodded approvingly.
'This'll keep the scum away.'
The man-faced trees were erected at the forest boundary as warnings. The forest folk took pride in their "masterpiece."
Special materials aside, even they found it threatening enough.
"This should warn them off good."
"Obviously. Who'd ignore such a brutal warning unless they want to become trees in eternal torment?"
"Just in case, add this spot to the patrol route. What if outsiders damage it out of spite?"
Patrolling warriors added the site to prevent vandalism. To them, it symbolized the spirit's protection—untouchable.
A day passed, then two, then over a week. No damage.
But then...
"Huh? The statues—the statues are gone!"
"Hey, doesn't something sparkle on the ground over there?"
A week and some days later, the man-faced trees vanished like a lie. Warriors raged, hunting the culprit, but found only silver coins and treasures buried where the trees had stood. Word reached Wendigo, mid-feast at the temple.
He summoned the most fitting experts.
"Sorry to drag you from your work."
"Not at all. Your grace is boundless—how could we refuse?"
Skadi and the shamans bowed deeply. In just a week, they were enchanted by the forest. Rare materials were tough, but they could debate mysticism freely, earn respect without suspicion, and request mysticism from Wendigo directly—no frenzy needed.
Shaman paradise.
"Why did you call us? Need an item or ritual?"
"No... The man-faced trees vanished, and I don't know why. That's why you're here."
"?"
The shamans blinked at the news. Stolen? Those hideous things?
"Anything unusual?"
"Treasures buried in the dirt."
"......"
The shamans fell silent, exchanging glances. Even Skadi sighed, clutching her head.
Wendigo sensed they knew something from their odd reaction.
"Do you know what happened?"
"Well... yes."
Blushing, they bowed. Wendigo's curiosity peaked.
As he stared, they whispered among themselves and pushed forward Osa—the only female outsider shaman, closest to Skadi.
She flushed crimson, mumbling like she wanted to crawl into a hole.
"It seems... the shamans took them."
"......"
Wendigo stared at Osa in utter disbelief. She bowed even deeper in shame.