Revenge (3)
Spirits were ordinary creatures—not rooted in demonic energy like magical beasts or monsters—that had accumulated Mana over centuries, evolving on their own. A spirit could be thought of as the soul or essence of such a being.
They were exceedingly rare to begin with, but spirits born from animals rather than plants were even more so. Most animals lived only a decade or two at best, and on this continent teeming with monsters, surviving to a natural end was no small feat. Moreover, a spirit that had lost its physical body—leaving only its soul—would inevitably fade into the flow of time unless it formed a contract with another entity possessing substance, such as a spirit shaman. This made them rarer still.
Even the elves, a race innately gifted with spirit shaman talents, mostly dealt with tree or plant spirits. For humans, the talent to contract with spirits was vanishingly rare to begin with.
Krrrarrr.
To witness an animal spirit with one's own eyes was an event in itself. And for that spirit to bare its killing intent—not at a monster or beast, but at a creature of this world—was rarer still.
But Tiny couldn't afford to stand there gaping in awe.
"Enough! That bastard needs to die suffering even more."
He hadn't expected the words to get through, but the massive wolf spirit, upon seeing the small human boy blocking its path, took a step back. The killing intent ebbed sharply. It was clearly suppressing its rage, however forcibly.
"...You understand me?"
Kruk.
Tiny couldn't help but be stunned as the translucent spirit nodded. I don't have any spirit shaman talent... Wait!
Suddenly, an old comrade's words resurfaced. Estina, guardian of the World Tree, who rode a gigantic eagle spirit and was thus called the Knight of the Skies in human society. She had said:
—Humans could become spirit shamans too, if they have a pure soul and enough Mana. Though by our standards, a human would need to be an innocent child oblivious to the world.
How many humans who could wield Mana possessed a soul as pure as a child's? That was why human spirit shamans were so rare.
But...
Right now, my body's that of a kid, but... is my soul pure?
"No way that's..."
Tiny glanced down at his blood-soaked hands and let out a wry chuckle. How many lives had these hands claimed today alone? They were all human scum, so no guilt weighed on him, but he wasn't brazen enough to call his deeds pure.
Yet the wolf spirit shook its head as if to refute that thought, then thrust its massive head toward Tiny.
Krr.
"Huh?"
The nose—nearly as big as a man's face—touched Tiny's forehead. In a flash of light, the wolf's thoughts flooded into his mind.
Moments later, Tiny grasped the situation.
According to the wolf, when he'd shattered the dark red chains in his mind earlier, the Mana he'd drawn up had unintentionally seeped into the spirit stone. The stone, destabilized by demonic energy, had been filled by his Mana in that gap. It created a link of sorts, allowing this level of communion between him and the spirit.
Which meant...?
"...I can contract with you?"
Kruk.
Tiny's face lit up at the spirit's low, affirmative growl. A spirit could be a tremendous boon in battle, depending on how it was handled. No need to split focus like with magic—just supply Mana to sustain it, and it was like gaining another comrade.
And most spirits...
Grow stronger as their shaman does.
That was why Estina ranked among the continent's top ten knights. Her spirits were the key.
"...This is unexpected luck."
Kruk.
The wolf nodded regally, as if to say of course.
An astonishing coincidence. But not mere chance. Gratitude poured through from the wolf's soul for freeing it from those chains. Beyond his innate qualities, this rare opportunity arose from bizarre luck and the spirit's sincerity.
No reason to hesitate.
"Then let's contract."
Woooong.
Following the wolf's thoughts in his mind, he channeled Mana. Instantly—
Awooooooo!
The room-filling translucent wolf dissolved into mist and seeped into Tiny's body. A surge of exaltation washed over his soul, and a strange memory replayed in his head.
A massive silver wolf building its domain deep in an ancient forest. Then, a group wielding dark red energy attacked it.
Humans? Or beastkin?
Seen through the wolf's eyes, their individual features blurred. But they reeked of ominous demonic energy—enough to sicken even a spirit beast just by proximity.
Soon, the wolf fell to them. Then came the shocking sight.
What the—?
They sliced open the fallen wolf's belly and extracted something. The spirit stone—essence of its soul.
The wolf's spirit stone was soon overlaid with a bizarre curse and handed to a gray-haired boy with faint spirit shaman talent.
A potential symbiotic bond between shaman and spirit twisted from the start.
The gray-haired boy then slowly absorbed the spirit stone's power through the curse's unknown force, gradually transcending human limits to embody the wolf's nature and strength.
...A manufactured beastkin?
Was such a thing possible? Unbelievable, yet the process unfolded before his eyes—undeniable reality.
As Tiny reeled, the wolf's agonizing memories continued. Each time the boy grew, the wolf endured soul-shattering pain. Hatred for its killers seamlessly transferred to the boy—no wonder.
This explained why the spirit had forcibly contracted with Tiny, who lacked the talent. Its plea came through crystal clear: Avenge me.
...Not a problem.
He planned to slaughter anything tied to demons anyway. The wolf's soul sensed his sincerity and settled contentedly.
Then, another will from the wolf:
Kyung!
It seemed to ask him to define its reborn self.
Define...? Oh!
He'd heard of it—the final step in a spirit contract.
A name!
Kyung!
Tiny pondered, recalling the memory: the silver wolf standing proudly under a full moon, gleaming in the moonlight. A moon wolf. In his taste...
I'll go Eastern-style: Wolrang.
Kruk.
A name born from his black hair and eyes earning him mockery, leading him to spitefully learn Eastern tongue. An odd quirk, but the wolf seemed pleased.
Awooooooo.
The howl echoed in his mind, sealing the unexpected contract. Overflowing fulfillment pulled Tiny back to reality.
"Eri...na, ma'am, sorry..."
A feeble voice yanked his elation down. Having briefly shared Wolrang's torment, Tiny's gaze sharpened like a feral wolf's.
"...What the hell was behind this bastard."
The culprits in Wolrang's memory remained shadows, but he could guess why Wolf's transformation differed from his past life—and why no spirit stone appeared when he'd killed him before.
By then, Wolf had fully absorbed it. With all that power, he'd become a true silver lycanthrope, not the mangy dog he was now.
Of course, what purpose manufacturing beastkin from a rare child spirit shaman and an even rarer animal spirit served still eluded him.
"...There were lunatics denying the Goddess and worshiping demons."
He'd slain any leaking demonic energy on sight—no chats had ensued. To him, demonic energy users—polluters of Mana, sickening humans and beasts alike—were just trash to eliminate.
Even before the Demon King Army, such scum had caused chaos, but he'd been too busy smashing monsters in the labyrinth to care. By the time he emerged, the oracle of the Demon King's descent had the world in frenzy.
But after Wolrang's memories, he couldn't ignore it.
"Hey."
Thud.
"Eri...na, ma'am, I was wrong..."
"Shut up. The spirit you had—who's behind it?"
"E...rina... ma'am..."
A mere tap wouldn't rouse Wolf's shattered mind. Fine.
Time to go harder.
Mana drained as the wolf form reemerged—smaller than its soul state, but baring fiercer fangs in a thunderous roar.
"GRRAAAAAWR!"
The vivid, potent cry revived a flicker in Wolf's dying eyes. He twitched at the snarling wolf before him.
"...My... wolf..."
My wolf? Absurd, but no need to humor it.
Thud.
"Who are the ones behind you? What group?"
"Kkuk!"
Locking eyes with the killing-black gaze, Wolf convulsed. Then—
"Or...ganization."
"So, what kind of organization?"
He'd thought Wolf's mind pulverized, but its eyes sharpened at the word.
"Y-You... the or...ganization won't let you be."
The sudden clarity, the flushed face. Tiny's eyes narrowed knowingly—
Cough.
"You'll... be cursed..."
Wolf spat blood and slumped dead.
"Hah..."
Curse nonsense? Worthless. The organization talk too. Sighing in frustration, Tiny recalled Wolf's dying words from his past life.
—The organization will hunt you...
Back then, he'd scoffed, assuming it meant Wolf's gang—which he'd already crushed. No avengers appeared, so he'd forgotten. But now...
"Something's there, alright..."
Too bad Wolf was dead—no more intel. Even his gang hadn't known he was beastkin(?), let alone the organization's secrets.
"Not like my life's been about scheming anyway."
He'd roamed solo. Revered others, but never followed. Leading or belonging to groups didn't suit him. He'd rarely even planned tactics.
I'll remember this and tell the Sword Emperor.
—Come find me when you return. I'll hone that talent of yours properly.
His old—no, future—comrade, keeper of regression secrets. A mere clue would unravel it for him.
For now...
Krr.
"He's dead, Wolrang. Shake it off."
...Kyung.
New comrade and immediate task. Better focus there.
"Good boy. Let's get along."
Khung.
Petting the aloof Wolrang, Tiny's gaze drifted past Wolf's corpse to the open safe. Not the piles of gold coins or documents—but a small gold ring in the corner.