Reclaiming the Shaman's Legacy
Wendigo gazed around through the ice necklace, marveling at the sight.
'To see beyond the forest without leaving it. Incredible.'
It wasn't just sight. Through the necklace, he could hear sounds, smell scents, and even communicate with the wearer. All thanks to Skadi.
The moment she'd contracted with Wendigo, she'd asked him to procure ornaments for her, and in an instant, she'd crafted this artifact.
[She called herself a shaman's daughter, but isn't she just a full-fledged shaman? Be honest. Didn't you really not need my help when you were running away?]
"No way. Humans have almost no way to wield mysticism without a spirit's aid. At best, they can cast minor spells through objects infused with mysticism."
Humans were beings inherently sparse in mysticism by nature. There were rare individuals born with it, but that was the exception. That was why shamans obsessed over mystical objects and spirits—one or the other was needed to wield spells.
Skadi, not born with mysticism, would have met her end without encountering Wendigo in the forest. Meeting him was heaven-sent luck.
"Meeting you in the forest was truly fortunate, Wendigo-nim."
[I think so too. Meeting you must have been my good fortune as well.]
Skadi smiled and stroked the necklace; Wendigo nodded in response.
To Wendigo, running into her had indeed been lucky. He'd initially thought it a nuisance, but who could have guessed her talents?
"Ah, ahaha. Your praise embarrasses me. But do you think the villagers will hand over the items so easily? Mother's hut held some truly valuable things..."
Skadi changed the subject, flushed from the compliment. Her concern was valid—shamans' possessions were precious: branches from lightning-struck ash trees, century-old snake scales, winter-blooming roses... Items infused with mysticism held an innate allure.
And her mother was a renowned shaman. Just revealing the items' provenance would have tribal shamans clamoring with high offers. Naturally, the village rabble would hoard them out of greed.
Wendigo answered her question as if it were obvious.
[They won't hand them over willingly. Humans let greed rule them even when death looms. But what does that matter? Are you planning to just leave if they refuse?]
"...I could never. They're Mother's relics—mine, and Wendigo-nim's as well."
[Not mine, but... Anyway, hiding the items means ignoring the warning. They pay the price for that.]
In short: cheat, and lose your head. Skadi nodded with a smile.
For Wendigo, she'd gladly take a hundred village lives.
Rollo, driven by a sense of duty to save the villagers, bellowed Skadi's message far and wide. But his efforts yielded poor results.
"That cursed wench contracted a spirit? Nonsense! Everyone knows she failed at it!"
"She found a corpse somewhere and is scamming us. I'll teach her a lesson!"
To the villagers, Skadi was a half-wit—the cursed girl who'd inherited none of her mother's talent.
Despite Rollo's warnings, hotheads grabbed weapons and sought her out, only to freeze at her gesture.
Skadi made the survivors drag the corpses back. Only after witnessing the frozen dead did they grasp the gravity.
The Skadi they'd mocked had truly contracted a spirit and returned. With fire at their feet, they scrambled.
"Grab everything from the hut!"
"If you can't remember, take it all! Better than dying!"
Guilt bred fear. Terrified of offending her, they hastily gathered items and hurried to the clearing.
Skadi overlooked them from the clearing. They trembled at her gaze, averting eyes in terror.
Anger or scorn would have been less frightening; her expressionless stare chilled them.
[Quite the haul.]
"They must've grabbed everything in panic. If only they hadn't stolen in the first place."
Skadi wandered among them, inspecting with her Spirit Eye, sifting mystical items. They gulped and shivered as she passed, fearing instant freezing.
One by one, she checked... until she halted before one man.
Village carpenter Sven swallowed hard as she stopped right in front. He'd rushed to the hut first upon her mother's death, greed incarnate.
He'd seen her freeze people, yet couldn't quell his avarice. Sell well, and village elder status awaited—how to pass that up?
More than that, he was confident.
'No matter how smart she is, can she remember every item in the hut?'
The shaman's home brimmed with herbs, hides, rarities. He smirked inwardly as she scanned his loot.
How could she spot hidden items by sight alone?
But Skadi scanned for mysticism, not concealment. No need—she had Wendigo for that.
[This one's underestimating you. Smells of sin too—he's definitely hiding something.]
At Wendigo's verdict, Skadi stabbed Sven's chest without hesitation. Her weak strength kept it shallow, but a small wound sufficed.
"Guhk... Kk!"
"Wendigo-nim says you've hidden items. Daring to deceive him... Atone with your life."
A mere fingertip gash, yet Sven couldn't breathe. The blade's chill froze his lungs.
As he thrashed in agony and died, the gruesome sight drew screams.
Skadi beckoned Rollo. Pale, he scurried over.
"Wh-what do you need?"
"Check the homes of those who passed Wendigo-nim's judgment and this one's. Retrieve any items. If even one's missing... you know."
"Y-yes, of course!"
Her venomous glare made him spasm in reply. The others nodded frantically, obeying.
Soon after they left, Rollo and the rest returned, ghost-faced, with the items.
Finding them was easy in small huts—multiple searchers missed nothing. But discerning hiders? No easy feat.
Realizing the spirit's aid, some startled, begged forgiveness.
"S-sorry! I forgot one—please let me correct it now!"
"My fault! I must've been possessed by an evil spirit!"
[Even through the necklace, this is absurd. More confessing than expected. Humans are greedy, but risking death to hide this much?]
"If Wendigo-nim wishes, that could be a method."
She murmured, fingering the necklace; the crowd shuddered. The woman who'd just killed, smiling and whispering—pure witchery, possessed by evil.
Skadi withdrew her hand, face twisting venomously.
"Merciful Wendigo-nim grants one final chance. Fetch your hidden items. You'll be spared this once."
"Thank you! Thank you!!"
They bolted home. Returning, Skadi hid her shock.
'How much did these maniacs hide!'
From tiny herbs to beast hides—meticulously stashed.
She glared with contempt, itching to kill.
[Calm yourself. No need to waste power on vermin like them.]
"...Hoo, as you say, Wendigo-nim. Fetch a large cart and load the items. Three men to pull it. Oh—and bring Mother's body. I won't trust you with even a hair of hers."
Sensing her departure, they swiftly readied the cart, piling items atop her mother's coffin, handled delicately lest it scratch.
Loaded—but who pulls? Anyone could, but pullers must escort her from the village. Ordinary bravery wouldn't suffice for the woman who squashed lives like bugs.
What if she froze them on a whim?
'She won't make elders do this dangerous task, right?'
'Not promising youths either, surely?'
An impromptu standoff; Skadi chose: Rollo (obedient from start), vigilante leader Hugo, and cart owner/hunter Rallof.
With bug-bitten faces, they stepped forward. Skadi led them from the village.
Pausing, she glanced back, reminiscing...
Reminisce? Only time with Mother.
She snorted, boarding the cart.
"Move out. To the forest edge, then you're free."
The three men nodded silently, pulling.
Prosperous farmer and vigilante leader Hugo seethed at being drafted as porter. Village pillar, men averted eyes from him.
Her mother? He'd grudgingly comply despite gripes. But he'd prayed hardest for Skadi's death.
No way he'd meekly obey her.
Pushing the cart, he looked up at her unguarded back.
Could he kill her now?
Fear fades with type—especially for ignorant rich like him.
He whispered to Rallof behind.
"Aren't you ashamed being ordered by that witch?"
"What're you on about?"
"Your brother Maxim died by her hand. Don't you want revenge?"
Rallof flinched at Maxim's name. Of course he craved vengeance.
Yet he hesitated—Skadi's power terrified him.
Hugo tsked inwardly at the cowering hunter.
He knew the cure: greed.
"Think. Kill her now, avenge your brother—and get rich."
"Rich..."
"Yes, rich. Tired of forest scraping? Snag this cart's haul, become like me."
Rallof's eyes fixated, entranced. Selling these herbs alone... unimaginable wealth.
He gulped; Hugo smirked—hooked.
Hugo offered his hidden dagger.
"Forest edge soon. She'll relax post-village—strike then."
"What about Rollo? He doesn't know."
"Sharp one. Give him the situation; he'll judge right."
"...Rollo's out, so we split the loot even."
The greedy pair smirked vilely, hiding daggers for quick draw.
Soon, at the edge, cart halted. Hands crept to daggers.
But Skadi had foreseen it.
She turned.
"One sane thought, and you'd have lived."
"!"
Her sneer confirmed it. No retreat, but dual assault might work!
"Rollo, grab her!"
"Even a witch dies stabbed!"
They drew, shouting at Rollo—expecting him to pile on.
Rollo was perceptive, though.
Too perceptive. He squeezed eyes shut, collapsing.
Then, something flew from the forest, shattering Rallof's head.
Blood sprayed; Hugo bathed in it, toppling in shock.
"U, uwaaaah!?"
[Vile vermin. Reeked through the necklace, but up close? Revolting.]
Chill erased blood's heat; Hugo trembled, staring at the monster.
A giant. Deer-antlered giant overlooking him.
Wendigo formed an ice spear, thrusting at Hugo's heart.
Hugo parried with dagger—futile against Wendigo's might.
Spear shattered dagger, piercing heart.
Withdrawn, no wound—just red ice.
"A, aaah..."
Two dead instantly, monster appeared—Rollo speechless, urinating in fear.
Wendigo eyed him.
"No foulness on you. Live—and take the corpses back."
"Y-yes?"
No repeat. Wendigo pulled the cart inward; Skadi followed into the forest.
Left with bodies, Rollo stared blankly.
Regaining senses, he fled the forest.
Hauling corpses home, he vowed: never enter the forest again.