Rain of Arrows and Shattered Alliances
The perpetrator who unleashed the arrow rain on Todell's forces was, of course, the Wendigo. Gelmir had suspected Todell's group, but he wasn't foolish enough to turn the entire army against them.
The alliance couldn't see an inch ahead through the thick fog, but to the Wendigo's eyes, it was as if the mist didn't exist. That was only natural—after all, it was fog infused with his own mysticism. How could it affect him?
The clones hidden in the forest mechanically nocked arrows to their bowstrings.
"I've never really practiced with a bow before, so it's a bit awkward. Should've at least trained a little."
"...I think it's not your shooting form, my lord, but rather your sheer size."
Geron, standing rigidly beside the Wendigo, corrected his misconception with a straight face. No matter that they were clones, these avatars were a head or two taller than an average man—using human bows comfortably would have been the real oddity. But to the Wendigo, who dwarfed even the clones, it made no difference. Thinking Geron was joking, he burst into laughter.
"Geron, you cracking jokes on the battlefield? That's a first."
"It's not a joke... Never mind. Let's just call it a joke."
"Don't go joking around with just anyone—you'll get misunderstood."
Somewhere, teeth ground and pills crumbled to powder, but the Wendigo ignored it. He had no time for that; he needed to loose arrows.
The clones' arrows poured down like a torrent, and Skadi's enchanted ones pierced the enemy lines with thunderous cracks. The Wendigo confirmed it all through the eyes of his crows.
"This is no mistake! They've betrayed us!!!"
"Calm down, calm down and assess the situation... Agh!"
"Calm down? Look around—you still saying that?!"
The chieftain and shaman's authority was impressive, but to warriors drenched in blood and taking one-sided hits, it meant nothing. The chieftain's lackeys, scrambling to calm the men, ended up rolling on the ground under furious beatings.
They'd strutted as the powers-that-be's enforcers before, but now they couldn't raise their voices. The warriors' eyes blazed with venomous killing intent, fueled by rage and hatred.
"Kill them! Avenge our brothers with their blood!!!"
"Rip out their guts and carve their hearts!!!"
"A-alright! Just stop hitting! We'll go to the chieftain and relay your will!"
An enforcer's key skill was reading the room. Without permission to advance, they'd have swords in their hearts. Tails between their legs, they begged for their lives.
Just as the released enforcers turned to find their master—
Piiiing!!!
"Arrows! They're shooting back at us too!!!"
"Damn it. Wait, we have bows too. Everyone, ready your bows!"
A few arrows whistled toward the rear amid the ear-splitting shrieks. The warriors cheered, drawing their own bows in response. Whoever it was, firing back at the enemy in this chaos? A cool-headed warrior indeed!
* * *
The arrow's source wasn't some seasoned, brave veteran—it was just the Wendigo.
He'd been firing via clones when the warriors responded in kind, leaving him baffled.
"I knew it'd be effective, but this is better than expected. How deep did they sow the discord for them to be that pissed?"
"They're rotten to the core from the start—probably just itching for a fight. Cut supplies or something... They'd be sharpening knives for each other by now."
"Even with different factions, pulling that should get your head chopped off, right?"
The Wendigo, who'd only heard vague reports of sabotage against Todell, eyed Geron and the shamans skeptically. Geron averted his gaze; the shamans glanced at each other awkwardly. Skadi... shot them the same look.
How could they pull insane stunts like that without losing their heads?
"Geron probably doesn't know much outside the forest..."
"Of course. How would I know outsider norms?"
Geron nodded shamelessly, so the Wendigo's gaze shifted to the fresh-faced shamans (average age in their thirties) who'd recently joined the forest folk.
Meeting his cunning eyes, they trembled like newborn lambs.
"You lot would know. As shamans, you've seen this sort of thing, right?"
"Well, it's like..."
The shamans hesitated, staring at each other. Telling the truth wouldn't make the Wendigo explode in disappointment yelling "No trusting outsiders!" and freeze them... but they still had to tread carefully with their mysticism patron.
No one wanted to take the hot seat. They whispered, picking a sacrifice.
"Osa, you do it. A pretty young woman like you will soften the spirit lord more than us old fogeys."
"Why me again? I did it last time!"
"You're friends with Lady Skadi and have some experience. We'll share ritual materials next time—please."
By ancient tradition, these tasks fell to the young. Osa, the chosen scapegoat(?), stepped forward with a grimace. Bowing cautiously, she murmured:
"It's probably... common between chieftains and shamans. Like kidnapping a chieftain's passing kin for not paying tolls."
Sounds absurd to feud over that? Sadly, this era's powers-that-be showed little regard for others. Chieftains who'd crushed foes, threatened fathers, and seized power lacked such courtesy. Toying with supplies or misreporting camps was mere petty squabble. At least they didn't spit in your face and vow to feed your head to crows.
...To the Wendigo, both were equally mad.
"What the... No, yeah, that tracks. Explains why they're marching an army here causing this mess."
He nearly grumbled but caught himself. Armies for rituals weren't normal either. But the situation was fine—infighting suited him perfectly. Pumped-up warriors were no issue.
Judging Todell's group handled, he focused on Gelmir's.
"The betrayers are set... Gelmir's might be different."
"Yes. Gelmir's an old man, but renowned among shamans. He tattooed giant mysticism himself, enduring flesh-carving pain without an artist..."
"You know Gelmir well. Osa, explain."
Osa flinched, realizing her slip. Answering casually drew his attention... She shot pleading looks at the shamans. Begging Skadi would work best, but she likely knew little too.
The shamans read her eyes, gesturing back: 'Hang in there.' 'Damn dirty old geezers!'
Thinking they'd bonded, Osa learned life's solitude and gritted her teeth.
"What's wrong? If that's all you know, we can move on."
"N-no! Just organizing my thoughts before telling you, my lord."
'Doesn't seem like it.'
She startled, but couldn't fool his eyes—her gaze mixed irritation and resentment. Especially since he'd overheard their whispers. No matter how quiet, his ears caught it.
"Discussing enemies is burdensome. I won't blame wrong info, and I'll reward regardless. Speak."
"!"
His command stunned Osa and the shamans. Nothing like the tyrants they knew, who beheaded for errors or devalued info to skip rewards.
'Such a kind spirit... No, a kind being.'
'Maybe not a real spirit?'
Unwittingly, he'd earned their loyalty. Osa shed her reluctance, eyes shining, and bowed politely.
"Gelmir's heart is ugly, but he's a heaven-born hero. Warrior, shaman, even ruler talents."
His fame had faded with age, but young Gelmir shook the north. Shamans couldn't match lifelong warriors in martial prowess—different gifts. Yet Gelmir transcended, his innate build and instincts forging him doubly famed. He'd butchered brother and kin with one axe, stealing chieftaincy—a tale still told.
"And with age, he's grown so calm it's hard to believe his wild youth. They call him the old bear."
"Impressive shaman... Might fail the divide. Thanks—ask for anything later."
Helpful, Osa smiled and withdrew. Skadi watched warmly, seeing her past self.
'I had days like that...'
As Skadi smiled maternally beyond her years, the Wendigo prepared possession with tension. He'd expected incompetence from betrayal-riddled ranks, but this hero sounded legit. He might spot the ploy.
'Could get messy.'
Shaking distractions, he possessed a crow in Gelmir's camp...
"Advance the army now!!! They've betrayed us. Betrayed me!!!"
"G-Gelmir, calm down! We don't know who shot..."
"Shut it! They shot at me! Never trusted betrayer allies anyway. I'll gut 'em and gnaw their bones!!!"
"???"
The Wendigo saw Gelmir swinging his axe, roaring at allies. No calm trace. He even cursed and punched pacifiers—pure madman.
Supposedly calmer with age... Not old bear; raging bear fit.
Releasing possession, he eyed Osa coldly.
"You did well, Osa. Lord Wendigo likes those who work hard without hiding. Act boldly without fearing mistakes, and you'll please him."
"Lady Skadi's right! I was ashamed hesitating."
"......"
Unable to sour the cheery mood—especially after promising no blame—the Wendigo ignored her and refocused.
What the hell happened to enrage him that much?