Ch.63Chapter 63

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

With the major battle over, there wasn’t much for him to do.

Clearing the battlefield and collecting spoils was the warriors’ job, while treating and moving the wounded fell to the forest people and summoners who had volunteered.

Yet returning to the temple didn’t seem right either…

Geron, unable to watch any longer, suggested to Wendigo with a troubled expression.

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

Other warriors nodded in agreement with Geron’s opinion. Honestly, there was no reason for Wendigo to handle such matters.

They could simply state the desired conditions and persuade with swords and spears…

‘These dogs are making the Djin work too hard.’

‘Why not just cut off an arm and threaten them?’

Even warriors who had found peace under Wendigo couldn’t completely abandon their past lives.

Sometimes, wasn’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 had been writing surrender documents while watching Wendigo’s reactions turned pale.

They feared they might end up writing their wills instead of surrender documents.

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

“People live in the village and at the temple. I don’t want to bring such vicious fellows to those places.”

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

Geron tried to persuade Wendigo while coldly looking at the prisoners. Honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

Wendigo’s subordinates, hardened by the world’s most fearsome hunger and bitter cold, wouldn’t fear even the fiercest warriors.

“Geron is right. Those fellows would surely lose even against my wife.”

“Why bring your wife into this? I’d bet my youngest could beat them.”

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

“Shut up.”

The prisoners trembled with rage at being instantly degraded to trash that couldn’t even defeat housewives and children.

It was an unprecedented insult to chieftains and summoners whose mere glances had made tribal warriors tremble.

Finally, unable to contain himself, one chieftain threw his charcoal to the ground and stood up abruptly.

Ubah, chieftain of the Seltibar tribe, pointed at Geron and shouted furiously.

“You son of a bitch… If it weren’t for the Djin, savages like you wouldn’t have stood a chance against us!”

“Why blame us because you weren’t chosen by the Djin? And what savages? You’re called barbarians by the Empire just the same.”

“Shut up! Seeing you side with savages like these, I can guess the caliber of the Djin you serve. No, I knew it when you treacherously suggested betrayal!”

“…You’re quite loose with your tongue when the Djin hasn’t ordered your death.”

Geron, who had been calmly trading insults, placed his hand on his sword and glared murderously at Ubah when he insulted Wendigo.

But Ubah, who had already half-resigned himself to death, paid no attention. With blood rushing to his head, he continued his provocation.

“You talk big while hiding behind the Djin. If I had my sword, I would have cut you to pieces!”

“Heh… Do you really think so little of Geron?”

Flinch.

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

Wendigo looked at Geron. Geron silently asked permission to fight with his eyes.

Wendigo nodded and said:

“It seems Geron wants to fight. Return his weapons. If death is his wish, I see no reason to stop him.”

“I will cut off his head and offer it to you, Djin.”

Geron expressed his gratitude, burning with loyalty and appreciation.

What subordinate wouldn’t feel devoted to a superior who understood their desires without words?

Surely the Djin had granted permission after seeing the look in his eyes.

‘I can smell his anger. I suppose one prisoner’s death won’t matter.’

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

Ubah, having received his weapon back, looked around with a bewildered expression. The warriors watched with disapproving looks but showed no intention of interfering.

Ubah, who had risen in anger, thought this might be his opportunity.

‘This is my chance. A perfect opportunity to impress the Djin! If I defeat him, the Djin might recruit me!’

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

Ubah charged at Geron, swinging his massive greatsword.

A middle-aged man with white hair would surely be split in half, unable to block his greatsword!

“Die!”

Geron drew his sword like lightning and struck the greatsword. With unbelievable strength for a one-handed swing, he altered the greatsword’s trajectory.

Ubah, who hadn’t expected Geron to be so strong, strained his muscles trying to redirect his sword, but it was futile.

“You insulted the Djin with just this much skill? Die and seek forgiveness for your sin.”

“W-wait!”

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

The chain mail looted from the Empire was made of sturdy steel, and the bear hide over it was very tough…

Slash!

“Guhk!”

The wooden sword granted by Wendigo cut through the chain and hide in one stroke, slicing through Ubah’s heart and lungs.

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

“This is not a sight worthy of the Djin. Remove this corpse quickly.”

“Yes!”

The warriors dragged the corpse away. The prisoners writing surrender documents discreetly turned their heads to look at the corpse.

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

‘We must never provoke them.’

‘It’s impossible to win the Djin’s favor with such foolishness.’

Those who had thoughts similar to Ubah’s abandoned such ideas and quickly wrote their surrender documents.

They feared that if Wendigo’s mood soured, they might be thrown to the wolves as well.

No, perhaps they would be eaten by the Djin himself.

Hadn’t Gelmir, whom they had followed, been killed (mauled, not eaten) after losing the battle?

As the prisoners began writing their documents quickly, Wendigo nodded.

‘I should have killed one from the start.’

One by one, prisoners began to finish their documents. However, none dared to step forward.

They feared that any pretext might cost them their heads.

But not everyone was so cautious.

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

Though warriors stopped him with spears and swords, Valken bowed even lower without showing any displeasure.

“O Djin, I have listed all those with succession rights as you commanded.”

“Hmm…”

As Wendigo picked up the document with his claw, Valken secretly smiled cunningly.

At first, the prisoners were confused when the Djin mentioned succession rights, but most quickly realized what Wendigo wanted.

He intended to transfer their power to someone of his choosing.

While most prisoners hesitated at the thought of surrendering their power, Valken thought differently.

‘How much could this Djin possibly know about my tribe anyway?’

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

In other words, there were many potential heirs with inheritance rights.

Valken listed the most incompetent and foolish among them on the document he handed to Wendigo.

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

Of course, having to kill his own children would be truly sad… but sometimes one must be ruthless for the greater good, right?

‘It’s useless to call warriors to verify. They wouldn’t understand the complex succession issues of rulers.’

“Are these all of them?”

“Of course. How could I, whose life is at stake, disobey the Djin’s command?”

With the fox beastkin’s characteristic bright eyes looking pitiful, Valken answered as miserably as possible. It was the kind of servility only a chieftain skilled in politics rather than strength could display.

Wendigo looked at Valken for a moment and then spoke.

“Stand up.”

“How could I stand before the Djin? I will remain kneeling.”

“Then stay that way.”

“?”

Confused by the unexpected response, Valken maintained his servile posture. After all, it was natural for a Djin to have an eccentric personality.

If he could just get through this situation while remaining on his knees…

“Warriors, beat this liar severely.”

“What? What do you mean… ARGH!”

“Silence! How dare you try to deceive the Djin!”

At Wendigo’s command, the warriors beat Valken without asking for reasons.

Valken was confused as he received the warriors’ strong kicks.

‘Was my deception discovered?!’

That couldn’t be.

How could the Djin possibly know the complex affairs of his tribe!

Wendigo indifferently asked Valken as he was being beaten:

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

“I-I’m sorry! I forgot to list one. There are seven!”

“That’s a lie. Beat him harder.”

“Yes!”

At the command to beat harder, the warriors excitedly broke branches from the forest. The solid, heavy branches weren’t as dangerous as weapons but were sufficiently powerful.

As his skin split and tore, Valken begged for forgiveness while continuing to shout:

“I’ve committed a mortal sin! Not seven but eight…”

“That’s a lie.”

“I-I remember now! I recently had another child, so nine… nine!”

“Do you enjoy being beaten? It would be better to just tell the truth.”

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

The Djin was truly a Djin. What kind of madman would continue ordering beatings when anyone would have revealed the truth after such punishment!

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

Feeling he would truly die at this rate, Valken painfully told the truth through his swollen lips.

Of course, that eccentric Djin would probably still call it a lie…

“Fif…teen. Really… fifteen.”

“Three more? Finally, you speak the truth. Stop the beating and return the charcoal and parchment to him.”

“!”

At Wendigo’s command, the warriors withdrew, but Valken stared at Wendigo in astonishment.

“H-how did you…?”

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

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

‘Detecting lies by smell is quite a burden.’

Wendigo complained inwardly. Every time Valken lied, the stench was quite unbearable.

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

At least now that an example had been made, such trickery would surely decrease.

After all, with their lives at stake, how many would dare to try such tricks…

“Um, excuse me…”

“Have you finished writing?”

“Well, about that…”

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

If he hadn’t finished, why raise his hand?

“I-I just remembered another heir. Could I possibly get a new parchment?”

“M-me too! Please show mercy just once!”

“Please be merciful!”

“……”

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

Of course, the prisoners’ minds hadn’t suddenly become more flexible…

‘These fellows always exceed my expectations.’

“…Give them new parchments.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to beat them a little?”

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

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

Wendigo recalled an old saying as the con artists’ wails provided background noise.

‘Indeed, a beating is the medicine for madmen.’

Though he loved peace, sometimes this approach was more effective.