Ch.70Chapter 70

The Wendigo tilted his head as he examined Shir’s body. He had instinctively become wary at the mention of a deal.

It was a natural reaction, considering that almost none of those who had requested deals from him in the past were normal.

The Wendigo was puzzled that he couldn’t sense any strong summoning magic from her.

“You’ve come to a dangerous place without any weapons? If you’re relying on your friend—no, your Djin—I’d advise that it’s not a particularly good choice.”

The Wendigo’s observation was quite sensible. No fool would approach a Djin to make a deal without some means of protection.

Shir certainly possessed that much common sense. Having spent her entire life dealing with Djin, how could she not know such basics?

However, a Summoner must also know when to accept that common sense can be broken if there are valid reasons.

‘It’s not strange that kind Djin exist too.’

Shir defined the Djin before her as a being different from those she had met before.

She bowed politely and chose her words carefully.

“I would have done so when meeting other Djin. Most Djin don’t hesitate to torment others, so meeting them itself is a danger.”

“Are you saying I’m not dangerous?”

“I meant you’re someone I can negotiate with without holding a weapon. How could intimidation with force ever be considered proper business etiquette?”

“Hmm, that’s correct. Using force for transactions is what thieves do.”

Led by the Wendigo, the others nodded in agreement. Only after seeing this could Shir finally feel at ease.

To be honest, even as she spoke, she had worried that the Djin before her might become angry.

While she had spoken politely, what she directly meant was, “How is intimidation with force any different from being a thief?”

Though mercenaries and thieves enjoy taking things by force, Djin loved it most of all in this world.

If they killed one or two people as an example, others would offer tributes on their own—what Djin wouldn’t like that?

That’s why the Djin before her was so surprising.

Of course, the Wendigo was equally surprised. Except for those he had taken in, he had seriously wondered if Summoners’ character and skill were inversely proportional…

‘Hmm, it feels like looking at Skadi Brynhild.’

The Wendigo gave what he considered his highest praise for a Summoner.

How admirable was her attitude of starting a deal based on trust rather than force?

Compared to those who had come before, spreading violence and deception, Shir was certainly a person of integrity.

“And to add one more thing, I am not friends with Freya. She’s someone who torments our clan using a contract made with my ancestor as an excuse…”

‘Hmm, if she speaks like that, they must be quite close.’

Though he sensed a slight smell of falsehood, the meaning of friendship naturally varied from person to person.

It was clear that Shir was contemplating whether she could consider herself close enough to call a Djin her friend.

Freya, who had been quietly listening from Shir’s pocket, poked her head out and scolded Shir as if embarrassed.

[Honey~ You don’t need to emphasize how close we are like that! I have an eye for Djin, and that one is definitely an abnormal Djin!]

“Hmm, seeing how affectionate you are despite hearing such words, you must be quite close indeed.”

Shir stared blankly at the two Djin, dumbfounded.

The Wendigo casually ignored her sharp gaze. It was clear that she still couldn’t acknowledge that they were friends.

In times like these, it was best not to force the truth upon her.

With time, she would realize that being friends with a Djin wasn’t such a remarkable thing…

‘Well, I can’t say it’s not remarkable.’

The Wendigo corrected himself about it not being remarkable. Thinking about it, becoming friends with a Djin who had a nasty temperament and strong powers was quite an achievement.

With that thought, the Wendigo couldn’t help but acknowledge Shir’s character and abilities.

“It can’t be easy to keep such an ill-mannered Djin as a friend with ordinary ability and patience. Let me hear about this deal.”

“……”

Shir looked at Freya and the Wendigo with a complex expression.

The very idea of calling Freya a friend made her skin crawl, but denying it would mean admitting her own lack of ability.

Under Shir’s heated gaze, Freya placed her hands on her cheeks and twisted her body shyly.

[Oh my. Isn’t your gaze too hot today, honey?]

“…I’ll shut your mouth before I really burn you.”

* * *

Fortunately, Shir didn’t collapse from anger before hearing the deal.

Thanks to the perceptive Osa, who noticed the relationship between Shir and Freya and asked servants to bring mind-soothing tea.

As her blood pressure, which had been rising to the point of making her neck tingle, subsided, Shir apologized for her unseemly behavior.

“Phew… I’m sorry. Seeing such an unbearable sight, I couldn’t contain myself and ended up being rude.”

“It’s fine. Rather, I’d like to hear what you want to deal for.”

“Actually, it’s closer to a proposal than a deal. Would you look at this map?”

The Wendigo examined the map Shir produced carefully. There was nothing particularly special about it, but one thing differed from ordinary maps—each territory had a tribe’s name written on it.

Lefrune, Ulfen, Norg…

“Quite a few names of those who attacked me.”

“Yes. Since Summoners used land as bait, many of the chieftains who joined the alliance are from tribes located on the forest’s outskirts.”

No matter how fertile the land might be, passing through another tribe’s territory wasn’t easy.

This was especially true in the North, where many warriors didn’t hesitate to draw weapons when negotiations and compromises failed.

Shir drew a line connecting all the northern outskirt tribes.

“What I’m proposing is to unite these tribes—those who will swear loyalty to you—and create a gateway to manage the forest’s perimeter.”

“A forest gateway… You mean to control who enters the forest?”

“That’s right.”

It was quite an appealing idea. This time, the greedy ones had formed a single alliance, but if they had attacked simultaneously from all over the forest, it would have been quite troublesome.

Even though he could create unlimited avatars, the number he could control wasn’t infinite, and Skadi was just one person, even if she could handle dozens.

Shir drew circles around one tribe of her own and two from either side.

“Freyr is your tribe, and Lefrune is the tribe that was humiliated today. The other one is… Duenor?”

“Yes. They’re quite a renowned tribe. The Lefrune tribe has a bit of a bad reputation, but they won’t refuse if it’s profitable.”

“I’ve heard of the Duenor tribe too. My mother said they’re straightforward people who are honest about grudges and favors.”

If Skadi’s mother had evaluated them that way, it was quite credible.

What more could be said when a woman knowledgeable about herbs, unafraid of rough work, and skilled in both summoning and martial arts called them straightforward?

‘As for the Lefrune tribe… at least the one I chose doesn’t seem like someone who would cheat around.’

Above all, what appealed to the Wendigo was that he wouldn’t have much to do.

The question was what Shir wanted in return for handling such troublesome matters…

“A deal means if there’s something given, there must be something received. Tell me, what do you want?”

Shir tensed. It was hard to guess whether even a gentle Djin would remain so after hearing what she wanted.

She carefully answered the question.

“I would like one ice crystal each year, like the one you gave to Issac. Of course, I’ll try my best to prepare whatever items you desire in return.”

“That’s not such a grand request. Very well, let’s do that.”

“???”

Shir stared at the Wendigo with a dumbfounded expression, caught off guard.

She had naturally expected the Wendigo to express displeasure and begin a long negotiation…

“Ah, but I have one request.”

“Anything I can do.”

“If possible, could you procure some food items that can’t be found in the forest? I’ll deduct the payment from what I collect from the other tribes.”

“……”

Shir was speechless at a request she had never heard in her lifetime as a Summoner.

…Could this really be a Djin?

* * *

After successfully concluding the deal with Shir, the Wendigo selected chieftains from the remaining tribes except for the Lefrune tribe the next day.

Among them, the most impressive was the Duenor tribe.

Indeed, the description of “straightforward” left by Skadi’s mother was not wrong.

Anton, a muscular bald man from Duenor, shouted with a face as hard as rock:

“I have no interest in the position of chieftain. I responded to your call to behead my father with my own hands.”

“My lord, I think he might be insane,” Geron whispered to the Wendigo, pointing at Anton who had boldly spoken of patricide.

Even in the North, where competing for a father’s position was considered a virtue for the next chieftain, few would boldly declare their intention to behead their own father.

Why would anyone boast about something that might happen to them too if they weren’t careful?

Out of pure curiosity, the Wendigo asked Anton:

“If you’re not trying to succeed the chieftain’s position, why do you want to behead your father?”

“My father left my mother to die from illness. I swore revenge at her bedside.”

“What if I don’t allow it?”

Anton placed his hand on the war hammer at his waist. Then, looking directly at the Wendigo, he declared his conviction:

“A warrior’s oath is sacred law. Even if death is certain, I will not back down.”

The Wendigo admired Anton’s steadfastness.

This is what it means to be straightforward!

The Wendigo laughed hollowly and clapped his hands.

“Ha, you’re the craziest and most straightforward man I’ve seen. I entrust your father’s life to you. In return, lead your tribe.”

“I am not wise. What good would I do leading a tribe?”

“Being wise doesn’t necessarily mean leading a tribe well. Rather, someone who loves their tribe and doesn’t stray into unjust paths makes a better chieftain.”

The other heirs of the Duenor tribe looked at Anton with jealousy or regret. However, none denied Anton becoming the chieftain.

Deep down, they vaguely felt that no one was more suitable than Anton.

The Wendigo dismissed everyone except the warriors who would become chieftains of each tribe, Skadi Brynhild, Geron, and Shir.

Standing before Anton, the Wendigo asked him:

“What kind of weapon do you prefer? A spear? A sword?”

After pondering the Wendigo’s question, Anton bluntly replied:

“I’ve handled all weapons in my life, but I can’t say I have a favorite. However… I would like an axe to behead my father.”

“An axe…”

Nodding, the Wendigo sprouted roots from the ground and infused them with mystery, shaping them into an axe.

After completing the axe, the Wendigo plucked it from the roots like picking a fruit and handed it to Anton.

“Congratulations on becoming chieftain. I hope this axe helps protect your tribe.”

“!”

Anton widened his eyes and took the axe with trembling hands. He shuddered at the life force transmitted through his hand.

A powerful strength pulsed through his arm, feeling like it could cut down a tree in a single blow.

Anton looked at the Wendigo with surprised eyes and asked:

“Can I really have something like this?”

“Did you think I made it just to show you? Take it. After beheading your father, use it to behead my enemies and yours.”

“…Thank you. I will repay this favor with loyalty.”

Anton accepted the axe with a more respectful attitude than before.

The Wendigo then created and bestowed weapons directly to the others as well.

Swords and spears imbued with intense cold, hammers and maces both heavy yet flexible…

Last was Miloshi, who had been designated as chieftain first. Meeting the Wendigo’s eyes, Miloshi cautiously asked:

“Um… would a bow be possible?”

“A bow?”

Not expecting a bow instead of a sword or axe, the Wendigo couldn’t help but ask back.

Fearing the Wendigo’s anger, Miloshi hastily shook his head and exclaimed:

“No, no! On second thought, I think a sword would be better!”

“You didn’t know I can detect lies, I see. But a bow…”

Making a bow stave was easy, but creating a bowstring was hard to imagine.

Would it be possible if he made the wood extremely thin?

‘No matter how thin, it can’t be called a bow without elasticity. The method…’

As he pondered, the Wendigo paused when he saw Miloshi’s hair. He reached out as if entranced.

“L-Lord Djin!?”

Miloshi raised his hands in surprise, but couldn’t avoid the Wendigo’s hand.

The Wendigo’s extended fingernail swiftly plucked a strand of Miloshi’s hair.

Skadi Brynhild noticed something strange.

The Wendigo would normally have asked Miloshi for his hair, but now he acted without saying anything.

‘…Though he sometimes acts incomprehensibly, anyway.’

…Anyway, noticing that the Wendigo’s state was different from usual, Skadi approached him and asked:

“Are you alright? Are you tired from using too much mystery?”

The Wendigo didn’t answer. Silently, he plucked his own hair and combined it with Miloshi’s.

The combined hairs began to gradually change shape as they absorbed the Wendigo’s mystery.

The hair transformed into beautiful white thread exhaling coldness, and the Wendigo created a bow stave from roots pulled from the ground, stringing it with the white thread.

Handing the completed bow to Miloshi, he said:

“You won’t need arrows. If you wish, the cold energy in the string will form arrows according to its master’s will.”

Miloshi stared blankly at the bow he received.

Even receiving just a sword would have been considered a family heirloom for generations, but to receive such a treasure!

“For generations to come, we swear to serve you, my lord!”

“Oaths should not be made carelessly. Later, when you truly wish to follow me, come and swear your oath.”

“Yes!”

As the Wendigo’s gentle dignity dominated the space, the warriors—no, the chieftains—bowed and pledged their loyalty with extreme respect.

None considered the oath of loyalty dishonorable. Rather, they took pride in being present at this moment.

The Wendigo sat on his throne and looked down at them with a gentle gaze.

Geron and Skadi Brynhild watched the scene, blinking their eyes.

* * *

Shortly after.

After the chieftains left with their weapons and their fathers, or former fathers, the Wendigo sat on his throne recalling what had just happened.

He had plucked his own hair and infused it with mystery.

Then, just like before, the hair would become a thread containing cold energy…

“It doesn’t work.”

The hair couldn’t withstand the mystery and shattered. The Wendigo touched the ice fragments, thinking.

He clearly had neither the method nor experience to create such a thing…

‘How did I do that?’