Bribes in the Shadow of the Departed Rivals
The rivals had been chased away in droves, but the remaining heirs didn't let their guard down for a second. They'd realized that one wrong move could get them booted without even catching a glimpse of the spirit. They'd risked execution by a future chieftain just to get here—they couldn't go back empty-handed.
The heirs turned their eyes to Jaken, who led the wolf riders at the front. As the captain who rode massive wolves like horses, he surely had a close connection to the spirit.
'If we can win him over, we'll have an edge in the succession race.'
Of course, the heirs weren't foolish enough to approach Jaken carelessly. Those in power never easily let others sit beside them.
Yakob, the third son of the Larsen tribe, pulled out a golden bracelet he'd brought for just such an occasion and approached one of the wolf riders.
"Excuse me, could we talk for a moment?"
"Ask your questions. The spirit himself permitted it."
"!"
The wolf rider's indifferent expression granted permission, and the heirs' eyes lit up. Didn't that mean the spirit had foreseen this very situation?
In that instant, the same suspicion flashed through all the heirs' minds.
'The spirit's test might have already begun!'
With that thought, even the wolf's appearance—favored by the spirit—seemed suspicious. Logically, why would such a precious creature reveal itself to them? The heirs, convinced they'd been dancing in the Wendigo's palm from the start, shuddered at the cunning depth of it.
"So, what's your question? If it's nothing important, step aside."
"Ahem, well, you see..."
As the warrior scowled and urged him on, Yakob cleared his throat to buy time. He'd planned to bribe with the golden bracelet to gain favor, but if the spirit had anticipated this, it could backfire.
Yakob fiddled with the bracelet in his pocket, hesitating.
'Should I hand it over?'
The spirit had already predicted their questions and even warned them. A being like that would surely foresee bribes too...
After a split-second dilemma, Yakob decided to offer it. On second thought, no spirit would refuse a bribe. A human might have a slim chance of being incorruptibly honest, but for a spirit? The odds were laughably low.
Especially a forest spirit arrogant enough to drive away renowned shamans just because it didn't like them. Such a spirit wouldn't block bribes—it'd probably just take them and tell you to scram.
"Ahem. As payment for answering my question, I have something for you. It's not much, just a pretty nice bracelet..."
Yakob cautiously extended the bracelet to the warrior.
Novak, the eldest of the Lefrun tribe, clicked his tongue at Yakob's clumsy attempt.
'Tsk tsk, offering a bribe—no, a gift—in front of everyone.'
Bribes required the right time and place. Handing one over in public forced even the thickest-skinned to refuse out of face-saving...
"Oh, a golden bracelet? Thanks. Ask whatever you want."
"!?"
The warrior snatched it without a hint of shame, leaving the cunning negotiator Novak—and all the other heirs—stunned. Even Syr's composed face hardened in shock.
Did the forest warriors not know the concept of honor?
"Uh, well, what I wanted to ask is..."
"Bring your ear closer! Can't let someone else profit off your golden bracelet, right?"
"Ah, yes!"
As Yakob and the shameless warrior whispered, the other heirs' blood ran hot. Especially those already sidelined in the succession—they had nothing to lose.
"T-take my jeweled ring!"
"This is a famed sword sold by a wandering shaman. Trace the engraved pattern with your finger, and it glows with every swing..."
"Hand it over. I'll tell you everything I know."
Once the dam of reluctance to fall behind burst, the heirs went mad, showering bribes.
Not everyone joined in, though. Milos of the Lefrun tribe—a red fox beastkin with a scar over his left eye—sighed.
What was all this fuss over power that had siblings debasing themselves like this...?
Milos shook his head, inwardly tutting.
'No wonder any info we get now is worthless.'
Information's value came from scarcity. With riffraff like this digging it up, its worth plummeted. Why bribe when you could just follow them without risking the spirit's ire?
As a few, excluding Milos, stared at them in pity or contempt, Syr eyed them closely.
Boring bunch. Nothing beats the fun of power-hungry fools going wild!
'Not everyone's a brainless toy for you to play with.'
Syr mentally scolded the damn spirit as Freya grumbled. How could she find no appeal in that spectacle and call it boring?
Syr tuned out the nonsense flowing through her bloodline and memorized their faces. If the forest spirit wasn't an idiot, these were prime candidates for its choice.
"Impressive bunch, aren't they?"
"Exactly. Do you think the spirit—no, Lord Spirit—feels the same?"
Syr hastily elevated Wendigo's title as she asked Jaken.
Jaken stroked his wolf's neck and burst into booming laughter.
"No need to honor him so formally in front of me. We're mere servants sworn to Lord Spirit, but you're a shaman, aren't you?"
Right! He calls me 'hey you, trash' and such, but grovels to a spirit he's never even seen... Mmph!
Syr irritably silenced the tactless spirit. She wasn't Freya's lover—why endure such complaints?
Flashing a beautiful smile that any man would melt for, Syr feigned humility.
"Once we step into Lord Forest Spirit's domain, etiquette demands respect."
"Haha, glad you say so, but..."
A beauty's favor crumbled heart's walls effortlessly. Judging Jaken sufficiently disarmed by his goofy grin, Syr broached her burning question.
"But... won't the warriors get in trouble if Lord Spirit catches them taking bribes?"
"Nah, it's fine. Lord Spirit explicitly ordered us to accept them eagerly."
"Ah... so you collect them to offer to Lord Spirit?"
Syr found it plausible. Contrary to common folk tales, spirits weren't just mystics—they took whatever they could.
Gathering gold, jewels, and other treasures useless to spirits via bribes? Perfectly normal.
"No, we'll gather 'em later and divide equally among the warriors."
"......"
Syr eyed her golden ring suspiciously, checking if Jaken lied. The embedded emerald glowed bright, confirming his goodwill.
Freya whispered in shock.
This spirit's gotta be insane, right? Honey, wanna turn back now?
Even Syr, who usually ignored Freya, seriously pondered it this time. A spirit ordering bribes not for itself, but to share with warriors? Unheard of.
She'd swear you couldn't find such a madman among people, let alone spirits.
Why give gold and jewels to those ugly brutes anyway?
'Never thought I'd agree with this one.'
Yet shamans pressed on despite incomprehension—that was fate.
Syr tossed Jaken another question.
"Never imagined using bribes like that. But spilling all this info—won't it mess up Lord Spirit picking a successor?"
Tales existed in spirit-less lands of good children gaining blessings. Pure fiction, of course. If true, spirits blessed talent, not virtue—a warning to rivals, not kindness.
No heir here boasted heavenly gifts. So why leak info?
"Spreading false info, maybe?"
"No way. Everything they're hearing is true."
"What exactly?"
"Hmm..."
Jaken stroked his chin, summarizing concisely—shamans hated rambling, he'd heard.
"Simply put, Lord Spirit is benevolent and despises those who bully or overwork underlings. Show maximum humility."
...This spirit's gotta be insane, right?
"......"
Syr despaired, unable to refute Freya's judgment.
In conclusion, Syr decided to trust Jaken's words. Unless he was history's greatest con artist fooling a timeless spirit—which seemed unlikely, if unbelievable.
Honey, no matter how I slice it, that guy's more likely a master scammer than the spirit being good-hearted!
...Freya, naturally, pegged Jaken as the bigger con.
Good spirits? Might as well expect a docile ogre. At least ogres quieted after a bellyful!
As a spirit myself, I know—spirits can't be good! Born superior to mortals, arrogance is inevitable!
"Look around, though. Jaken's words hold water, honestly."
The forest village they'd reached was idyllic. Farmers tilled rich soil, sweating profitably; livestock grazed, fattening peacefully. A sight rare even in the north's warmest spots—leaving heirs and Syr alike awestruck.
As a shaman, Syr was doubly impressed. The land, crops, even beasts brimmed with mysticism—clearly spirit or shaman influence.
"No wonder Jaken and the warriors are loyal."
That's why it's suspicious! Why waste precious mysticism on this treatment?!
Unable to contain her frustration, Freya manifested as a fairy, thumping Syr's head while grumbling.
Syr ignored her, stepping forward transparently.
"Maybe the spirit really is kind."
You joking, honey? Even in my newborn days, only idiot spirits enslaved by gods did this!
Freya shrieked, recalling her youth—not fondly. Sure, mysticism flowed freely then, but haughty gods strode the earth, treating spirits like limbs.
Bound spirits swallowed humiliation, enriching soil, controlling weather—menial chores(?). Bad enough for pride, and now mysticism was scarce.
'Though it's been surging lately.'
Shortages persisted regardless.
Honey, I truly cherish you, y'know? I even remember your name!
'Ridiculous. So you forget my mom or grandma's?'
Unaware, Freya had a talent for infuriating. Syr, listening patiently, felt the urge to hurl her off.
Syr brushed Freya from her head.
"We're here—might as well greet it. Who knows? Maybe it's kind, not crazy."
No way in hell...
"H-hello! I'm Yakob of the Larsen tribe..."
"You reek. You're out of the running."
"......"
Wendigo spat at the foul stench from Yakob, refusing even to look.
As Yakob stared blankly upward in denial, Geron summoned warriors to drag him away.
Syr watched, face stiffening.
This guy's a real psycho!
Syr regretted not heeding Freya for once in her life.