I Became a Wendigo in a Fantasy World

11 – Part 11

The boar spirit, crazed like a cornered pig, threw itself even though it was a spirit.

The roots and branches sprung from the earth and entangled and thus, enlarged the size of the boar spirit. As its size grew, it was normal for its speed to decrease but surprisingly, the boar spirit increased its speed instead.

“I’ll rip your ragged body apart!!”

The boar spirit’s charge, armored with tightly woven roots and branches, was as heavy as that of a tank.

The Wendigo conjured an icy air and erected a large, sturdy ice wall in front.

The boar spirit was initially surprised by the enormous wall but soon sneered realizing the ice wall wasn’t as powerful.

“You fool, trying to conserve your strength in a fight between spirits!”

The boar spirit was certain; it was fighting a newly born spirit.

Even if spirits were noble entities, experience was something that couldn’t be disregarded.

Spirits that had lived for a short while were often unaware that they shouldn’t skimp on using their powers when fighting amongst each other. It was usually sufficient against humans or monsters with weaker powers.

But that couldn’t work with spirits. Being equally powerful, sparing powers only resulted in maximum exhaustion.

The boar spirit didn’t unnecessarily use intense powers to armor itself. It was genuinely planning to take down the Wendigo with a single blow.

When the heavy body of the boar spirit shattered the ice wall, the shattered pieces soared into the sky. Reflecting sunlight, they sparkled, making the boar spirit squint.

“Where are you! Stop hiding like a coward and face me!”

As the sunlight blinded the boar spirit, it shook its head to search for Wendigo.

The Wendigo hadn’t hidden, but revealed itself. Standing tall amongst the wreckage of the ice wall, it held a large ice sword high, ready to strike.

A sinister power fluctuated around the ice sword, wrapped in a dark blue aura and shimmering faintly.

The boar spirit, all set to lunge at the Wendigo, was taken aback. The power emanating from the ice sword was extraordinary.

“You madman! You can’t waste all the power you’ve accumulated so far!!”

The fight between spirits was supposed to strike a killing blow at once. That was true, but… there was no case of preparing for a head-on attack as fiercely as Wendigo.

Even if it held all the power of a spirit, it was not at all strange that the enchantment pulsated around the ice sword. Faced with the terrible amalgamation of magic before him, the Boar Spirit paled. An instinctive understanding told him that a direct hit from this power would shatter his magic in an instant.

The Wendigo brandished the ice sword with a flash of cold light in its eyes. With a scream-like, eerie sound, the ice sword lunged towards the Boar Spirit’s head.

The Boar Spirit realized it couldn’t dodge the ice sword; it was either slow down, an inability to control his speed, or charge ahead to face the direct hit from the ice sword.

The Boar Spirit decided to take the hit, twisting its body to lessen the impact instead of taking it head-on.

Craaack!!!

The ice sword sliced through the Boar Spirit’s root-made armor. No, it was more apt to say that it was torn apart.

The front leg of the Boar Spirit, instantly frozen alongside the ice sword, was torn away with a gruesome sound. The small consolation for the Boar Spirit was that it wasn’t a direct hit.

The intense cold hidden in the ice sword froze the village buildings and timber as it swept over the forest.

If it had been a direct hit, the Boar Spirit would have been a frozen pig. Even though it was fortunate at the moment, the Wendigo’s attack did not stop there.

The bluish energy flowing from the ice sword penetrated the Boar Spirit, draining his magic. The roots and branches that composed the Boar Spirit’s body turned white and crumbled.

Overwhelmed by the malevolent magic, the Boar Spirit shivered.

“There is no way an entity that harbors such energy can be a spirit. Who… who are you!!!”

The Wendigo didn’t answer.

‘What do you need to know.’

Even the Wendigo wasn’t sure who it was. But of one thing it was certain.

The Wendigo reshaped the ice sword into a sharp spear; a double-edged spear that it used to hunt boars was revealed.

“Considering your behavior, at least you are not a spirit. A silver lining is that I am not committing fratricide.”

“How dare you, dare to mock me!”

Summoning his magic with a fit of rage, the Boar Spirit made roots sprout from the ground to coil around the Wendigo’s body. The roots writhed as if they were alive.

The Wendigo trembled silently. Considering this a sign of weakness, the boar spirit burst out laughing.

“Heh, ha-ha-ha! Sure, I’m a boar spirit that coexists with roots and branches. A spirit that has been living proudly for over a hundred years! Why would I ever submit willingly to the likes of you, who don’t even understand the fundamentals of..”

“How dare this damned boar wrap its tentacles around my body!!!”

As if expressing Wendigo’s anger, a sharp, cold wind swirled around, freezing and tearing apart the roots.

Wendigo gave himself completely to a passion he had never felt since opening his eyes to the world. His spear changed its shape grotesquely as if emulating his feelings.

It was more akin to a harpoon than a spear.

The spear dug deep into the boar. The boar spirit tried to find a way to survive in the midst of pain, but there was no opportunity.

“Ga-Guaaack!?”

“I don’t know about others, but you won’t die so easily.”

A frost flower sprouted from the spear tip, spreading its vine inside the spirit and growing thorns.

Even though it was a hastily formed physical body, the boar spirit writhed in unprecedented pain; it would have been no surprise if it had lost consciousness from such pain.

“No more, please, please stop!!!”

“Stop? No, we’re just getting started.”

Wendigo created a few more spears and plunged them into various parts of the boar. The magic in the spears resonated, allowing the frost flower to grow rapidly.

Beautiful frost flowers bloomed on the boar spirit’s fragile body. The spirit wanted to just return to magic, but it couldn’t.

The eerie energy within the spear was keeping the boar spirit’s soul in place. Wendigo looked down at the boar spirit for a moment and then grabbed a spear.

Crunch.

“Aah!!! Please, please kill me!!!”

As the frost flower and the magic were torn away, the boar spirit pleaded to be reduced to nature, to lose the status of spirit.

Wendigo indifferently continued pulling out his spears. His raging anger had subsided but, it was replaced by a new curiosity.

‘What is this aroma?’

An indistinct scent he had at first failed to notice.

The same scent felt in the house of a deceased shaman was now coming from the depths of the boar spirit. He wanted to know what it was.

“aaah!!!”

Terrified, the boar spirit screamed, but well… it was only facing the consequences of its actions.

When the last spear was removed, the boar spirit couldn’t maintain its form. The only untouched part was its head.

It gasped for breath while its eyes flickered. Under such circumstances, it wouldn’t be surprising if it died on the spot.

Wendigo forcibly reached deep into the boar spirit’s head. His rough touch tore its head apart, extracting the source of the aroma.

It was a seed.

“This doesn’t seem to be the seed that the shaman had brought out… Hmm?”

“Spirit! Spirit!!”

Wendigo felt the dispersal of the spirit’s mysterious aura and looked at the head. The head was losing its vitality, seeming to fade, and then it turned into dust and scattered.

When the last thread of his belief disappeared tragically, Luriek looked pale and held onto the dust, but there was no return of the spirit.

Wendigo slowly approached Luriek. Luriek tried to run away, but his legs had long frozen.

“What is the identity of this seed?”

“I, I don’t know! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I was deceived by the spirit and rudely… Gag!? “

Luriek couldn’t help but move his tongue in his habitual manner, but Wendigo grabbed his tongue and blew cold air into it.

The coldness infiltrating through Luriek’s tongue froze his brain – an ignoble death for a shaman who had been living and contracted with a spirit for over a hundred years.

Wendigo threw the dead body aside, trying to grasp the energy emanating from the seed. The energy the seed held was not ordinary mystery.

“It feels more fundamental than mystery…”

“Wendigo, may I say something?”

Scadi, who had approached unknowingly, cautiously spoke to Wendigo. She was slightly trembling with a mix of awe and anger.

If the awe was directed towards Wendigo, who could the anger be directed at? The boar spirit? Luriek?

None of them. Her rage was directed at herself, furious at herself for not fully grasping whom she was serving as a shaman contracted with Wendigo.

Scadi was a woman who used her rage more than ignited it.

‘Must be a disgrace to a shaman if I can’t be a little helpful to Wendigo!’

When Wendigo asked Luriek about the identity of the seed, her bright mind quickly rotated and speculated about the seed’s identity.

As he nodded his head, Scadi opened her mouth.

“Spirits are beings made up of mysteries. However, what constitutes a spirit is not all mystery. There are many cases where not all the mysteries that the spirits encounter are ones that the spirits themselves can handle.”

“Not all spirits can eat all the delectable offerings or sacrifice.”

“Yes, even so, the reason why spirits are able to handle the mysteries gained through sacrifice or worship with their own power is because they are born with the original source.”

Origin

All spirits have an origin. When Skadi recognized Wendigo as a spirit, it was largely because he, like the forest, had an origin.

Wendigo became lost in thought at the mention of this “origin”.

An initially nonexistent seed. The fragrance that seeped out when you cut through the mystery. If you pull out the seed, it’s assumed to be the spirit of a dead boar.

“Does this mean that this seed is the origin of the boar spirit?”

“It’s just an inference, but I think it’s the only possibility. It’s just… It’s shining too brightly to be called a mystery.”

Skadi swallowed her dry saliva before responding. As Wendigo accepted it seriously, she felt a sense of pride.

Wendigo rolled the seed back and forth under his nails, deep in thought.

How could he use this seed, presumed to be the origin?

Wendigo took another whiff of its scent. The subtle fragrance captivated him…

“My mouth is watering.”

“Excuse me?”

Since Wendigo’s statement was so out of the blue, Skadi understandably inquired further.

Wendigo was salivating from the scent of the seed. It was a desire in a realm distinct from hunger.

Wendigo decided to give in to his instincts this time.

“Skadi, keep a lookout. Tell Geron and Hegilson not to come near me.”

“Wait, Wendigo? Wendigo, wait a second!!”

Skadi, realizing what Wendigo was about to do, hurriedly called out his name, but she was too late.

Wendigo bit down hard on the seed.

From Wendigo’s head, numerous roots and branches sprang out, entwining his body.

Skadi watched, feeling defeated.