Chapter 63

While the battlefield was being cleaned up, Wendigo sat on a temporarily created ice throne, watching the prisoners.

It seemed he had nothing to do now that the big fight was over.

Cleaning up the battlefield and collecting the spoils was the warriors’ job, while treating and moving the wounded was the task of volunteer forest people and shamans.

But it didn’t feel right to return to the temple either…

Seeing this, Geron suggested to Wendigo with a troubled expression:

“Why don’t you take these fellows to the temple? It doesn’t seem right for you to not be able to rest because of the prisoners.”

Other warriors nodded in agreement with Geron’s opinion. Honestly, there was no reason for Wendigo to take on such a task.

If he just stated the conditions he wanted, they could persuade the prisoners with swords and spears…

‘The spirit-nim is suffering because of these dogs.’

‘Can’t we just cut off an arm and threaten them?’

Even warriors who had found peace under Wendigo hadn’t completely abandoned the lives they had built up until now.

Sometimes, isn’t it easier to resolve things with violence rather than words?

As the warriors subtly placed their hands on their weapons and glared, the prisoners who were writing missives while watching Wendigo’s reactions turned pale.

They felt the fear that they might end up writing their wills instead of missives if they weren’t careful.

However, Wendigo shook his head despite Geron and the warriors’ well-meaning advice.

“People are living in the village and even in the temple. I don’t want to bring such vicious fellows to such places.”

“Would the forest people and nomads who grew up in harsh environments fear such fellows?”

Geron looked at the prisoners with a cold expression as he tried to persuade Wendigo. Honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

Wendigo’s subordinates, trained by the world’s most fearsome hunger and bitter cold, wouldn’t be afraid of even the fiercest warriors.

“Geron-nim is right. Those fellows would surely lose even in a fight with my wife.”

“Is there a need to go as far as wives? I bet even the youngest in my house could win against them.”

“Your youngest is already grown up and an archer… Mmph!?”

“Shut up for a bit.”

The prisoners trembled with anger as they were instantly degraded to trash that couldn’t even beat housewives and youngsters.

It was an insult that the chieftains and shamans, who could make their tribe’s warriors tremble with just a glance, had never heard in their lives.

Finally, unable to endure, one chieftain threw the charcoal to the ground and stood up abruptly.

Uba, the chieftain of the Seltibar tribe, pointed at Geron and shouted angrily:

“You son of a bitch… If it weren’t for the spirit, barbarians like you wouldn’t have been able to stand against us!”

“Why are you blaming us for not being chosen by the spirit? And what do you mean by barbarians, you’d be called barbarians by the Empire folks just the same.”

“Shut up! Seeing that you’ve joined hands with barbarians like yourselves, I can guess the level of the spirit you serve. No, I should have known when he insidiously incited betrayal!”

“… You’re wagging your tongue quite freely for someone the spirit-nim hasn’t ordered to be dealt with.”

Geron, who had been calmly spewing venom, placed his hand on his sword and glared at Uba as if to kill him when he insulted Wendigo.

However, Uba, who had already half given up on his life, didn’t care about such things. With blood rushing to his head, Uba didn’t stop his provocation.

“You dare to run your mouth while hiding behind the spirit. If I had my sword, I would have slaughtered you!”

“Haha… Did Geron look that ridiculous to you?”

Flinch.

When Wendigo intervened, Uba faltered. No matter how angry he was, he couldn’t help but fear Wendigo.

Wendigo looked at Geron. Geron answered with his eyes, asking to be allowed to fight.

Wendigo nodded and said:

“It seems Geron wants to fight. Give him back his weapon. If his wish is to die, there’s no reason to stop him.”

“I will cut off his head and offer it to you, spirit-nim.”

Geron expressed his gratitude, burning with gratitude and loyalty.

From a subordinate’s position, what could be more worthy of loyalty than a superior who understands one’s heart without needing to speak?

Surely the spirit-nim must have given permission after seeing his eyes.

‘Judging by the smell, he’s quite angry. I suppose it wouldn’t matter if one prisoner dies.’

… Sometimes, there are superiors who read minds through ability rather than bonds.

Uba, who received his weapon back, looked around with a bewildered expression. The warriors looked at him with displeased expressions but didn’t seem inclined to interfere in the fight.

Uba, who had stood up in the heat of the moment, thought that this might be an opportunity.

‘This is a chance. A perfect opportunity to leave an impression on the spirit! If I take him down here, the spirit might recruit me!’

Not knowing that if such a thing happened, Wendigo would really turn him into a tree while still alive, Uba burned with fighting spirit.

Uba charged at Geron, swinging his huge greatsword.

If he was a middle-aged man with gray hair, he would be split in half, unable to block his greatsword!

“Die!”

Geron drew his sword like lightning and struck down the greatsword. A powerful force that seemed unbelievable to have come from a one-handed swing altered the greatsword’s trajectory.

Uba, who hadn’t expected Geron’s strength to be this great, tried to change the direction of the greatsword by overexerting his muscles, but it was useless.

“You insulted the spirit-nim with just this much. Die and be forgiven for your sin.”

“Wa-Wait!”

Geron caught the sword Uba had swung with just his wrist and swung it vertically. Sensing it was too late, Uba placed his last hope in his armor.

The chain mail looted from the Empire folks was made of sturdy steel, and the bearskin draped over it was very tough…

Slash!

“Kuhek!”

The wooden sword Wendigo had given cut through the chain and leather in one go, and the sword cut through Uba’s heart and lungs.

With a loud noise, the sword fell and Uba’s form crumbled. Geron looked down at the corpse indifferently and ordered the warriors:

“This is not a sight worthy of showing to the spirit-nim. Quickly remove this corpse.”

“Yes!”

The warriors dragged the corpse away. The prisoners who were writing missives subtly turned their heads to look at the corpse.

… And they were horrified to see a warrior throwing the corpse to the wolves.

‘We must absolutely not provoke them.’

‘It’s impossible to gain the spirit’s favor with such foolish acts.’

Those who had similar thoughts to Uba gave up and quickly wrote their missives.

They thought that if Wendigo’s mood soured, he might throw them to the wolves as food.

No, perhaps they might be eaten by the spirit instead of wolves.

Hadn’t Gelmir, whom they had followed, been eaten (he was bitten to death, not eaten) when he lost the fight?

As the prisoners started writing missives quickly, Wendigo nodded.

‘I should have killed one from the beginning.’

One by one, prisoners who had finished writing their missives began to appear. However, no one dared to step forward rashly.

They thought they might have their heads cut off if they gave any reason for complaint.

However, not everyone was like that.

Valken, the chieftain of the Lefrune tribe and a red fox beastman, approached Wendigo with a cunning bow.

The warriors restrained him with spears and swords, but Valken bowed even lower without showing any signs of displeasure.

“Spirit, I have written down all those with succession rights as you ordered.”

“Hmm…”

As Wendigo picked up the missive with his claw, Valken secretly smiled a cunning smile.

At first, they were flustered when the spirit mentioned succession rights, but most prisoners immediately understood what Wendigo wanted.

That he intended to hand over their power to someone of his liking.

While most prisoners hesitated at the fact that they had to hand over power, Valken thought differently.

‘How much could the spirit know about my tribe anyway?’

Valken had two wives and three concubines. Naturally, he had many children as well.

In other words, this meant that there were many successors, those with inheritance rights.

Valken wrote down the most incompetent and stupid ones among them and handed the missive to Wendigo.

He was confident that he could behead such fools and reclaim his tribe.

Of course, having to behead one’s children was truly a sad thing, but… sometimes one must be cold-hearted for the greater good, right?

‘It’s useless to call warriors and ask. They wouldn’t know about the complex inheritance issues of those in power.’

“Are these all the ones written here?”

“Of course. How could I, who has pledged my life, defy the spirit’s words?”

Valken answered as pitifully as possible, making his fox-like bright eyes shine sadly. It was a subservience that only a chieftain skilled in politics rather than strength could show.

Wendigo looked at Valken for a moment and then spoke.

“Stand up.”

“How could I stand before the spirit? I will continue kneeling.”

“Then stay like that.”

“?”

Valken was confused by the unexpected response but didn’t stop pretending to be submissive. After all, it was natural for spirits to have eccentric personalities.

If he could just get through this situation while continuing to kneel…

“Warriors, beat this liar severely.”

“What? What do you… Argh!”

“Shut up! How dare you try to deceive the spirit-nim!”

At Wendigo’s order, the warriors beat Valken without asking for a reason.

Valken was confused as he was kicked by the warriors’ strong feet.

‘Was my deception discovered?!’

That couldn’t be.

How on earth could the spirit know the complex circumstances of the tribe!

Wendigo indifferently asked Valken, who was being beaten:

“I’ll ask again. How many successors are there?”

“I-I’m sorry! I forgot to write down one person. There are seven!”

“That’s a lie. Beat him harder.”

“Yes!”

At the order to beat him harder, the warriors got excited and broke branches from the forest. The solid and heavy branches were not as dangerous as weapons but were sufficiently powerful.

As his skin burst and tore, Valken kept shouting while begging for forgiveness.

“I’ve committed a sin worthy of death! It’s not seven but eight…”

“That’s a lie.”

“I-I remember now! Re-Recently a child was born, so nine… nine people!”

“Do you perhaps have a hobby of getting beaten? It would be better to just speak honestly.”

As the sound of bones breaking and wailing echoed through the forest, the prisoners watched Valken and Wendigo with pale faces.

Indeed, a spirit was a spirit. Only a madman would continue to order beatings when anyone would have revealed the truth after being beaten so badly!

The truth was that Valken was lying, but the prisoners had no way of knowing that.

Feeling that he would really die at this rate, Valken painfully told the truth through his swollen mouth.

Of course, that eccentric spirit would probably say it was another lie, but…

“Fif… teen. Really… fifteen.”

“There were three more? Finally, you’re telling the truth. Stop the beating and give him back the charcoal and parchment.”

“!”

At Wendigo’s order, the warriors withdrew, but Valken looked at Wendigo with a dumbfounded expression.

“H-How…?”

“Did you think lies would work on me? How foolish. If you don’t want to die, quickly go back and finish writing.”

As Valken was dragged away, Wendigo clicked his tongue and scratched what seemed to be his nose.

‘It’s quite a chore to judge by smell.’

Wendigo complained inwardly. It was quite hard to endure the stench that came out every time Valken lied.

‘He should have just told the truth from the beginning.’

Still, now that an example had been made, such tricks would surely decrease.

After all, how many would play tricks when their lives were at stake…

“Um, excuse me…”

“Have you finished writing?”

“Well, about that…”

As one prisoner cautiously raised his hand while sweating, Wendigo was puzzled.

If they hadn’t finished writing, why raise their hand?

“I-I just remembered one more successor, could I possibly get a new parchment?”

“M-Me too! Please have mercy just once!”

“Please have mercy!”

“……”

Encouraged by one prisoner’s courage(?), others also raised their hands and urgently begged for mercy.

Of course, the prisoners’ hardened minds wouldn’t have suddenly softened…

‘These fellows always exceed my imagination.’

“… Give them new parchments.”

“How about beating them a bit?”

When Geron, who had read Wendigo’s thoughts, suggested this, he unconsciously nodded. Although he realized this fact, Wendigo didn’t retract his order.

With permission granted, Geron gestured, and the warriors rushed out with shining eyes to strike, beat, and kick the prisoners.

Wendigo recalled an old saying with the wailing of the con artists as background.

‘Indeed, beating is the medicine for madmen.’

Although he loved peace, sometimes this method was more effective.