Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 104

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 104.
Blood That Won’t Fade (17)
“You made sure to tell him, didn’t you?”
Ekion didn’t head straight to the Duel Ground. Instead, he remained in the Unnamed Village, tasked with deceiving the townspeople’s eyes.
He’d done as Elder Brother commanded, yet anxiety gnawed at the edges of his mind. He couldn’t fathom why he felt so uneasy. It wasn’t that he doubted Elder Brother’s strength—so what was he afraid of?
Unable to overcome his anxiety, he found himself running to Jilebo.
Jilebo didn’t even let him finish before asking bluntly. Ekion snapped back irritably.
“Of course! I told him everything—lure that bastard into the Town Hall, then finish him there! But do we even need that? I’m worried Elder Brother will kill him before we even get inside the Town Hall!”
Worry about the opposite happening, you fool. Jilebo cursed inwardly, biting his lip. Then, composing his expression, he spoke.
“Then what’s the problem? Why do you keep insisting on going to check? You’ll only raise suspicion, and even if you don’t, your proud brother will be displeased.”
“But…”
Ekion hesitated. His outburst moments ago had merely been an attempt to mask his unease. He needed some justification.
Cunning by nature, he quickly found an excuse.
“As you said, Elder Brother is prideful. What if, just what if, because of that pride he somehow starts losing, and still refuses to do what you instructed? If he decides not to cooperate, all your careful preparations would be for nothing, wouldn’t they?”
As he spoke, even he felt convinced by his own words. Jilebo’s expression darkened, one eye narrowing in displeasure.
It was indeed a concern that couldn’t be dismissed. Perhaps going directly would be best after all?
“Fine. You wait here. If everyone disappears, it’ll raise suspicion. As long as Hector isn’t there, you need to stay in the village.”
“But…”
That wasn’t what Ekion intended. But Jilebo had made his decision, rising abruptly from his seat. He glared down at Ekion with frightening eyes, then seized his wrist and gripped it hard.
“If you follow me without permission, I’ll overturn everything I promised you and your friends. Then it’ll be your brother who returns as a corpse. Understand?”
Jilebo released Ekion’s wrist onto the table with a sharp motion, then pulled his outer robe from the wall and left the house with quick strides.
Left alone, Ekion rubbed his reddened wrist and bit his lip.
What should I do? That teacher didn’t seem like someone I could trust blindly either. Shouldn’t I be at Elder Brother’s side?
What if something terrible actually happens? What if I’ve done something horrible?
Finding no good answers despite his deliberation, Ekion rose from his seat in frustration with himself. But the moment he turned, he caught sight of a frightened face disappearing rapidly beyond the half-open window.
“Who’s there!”
He kicked open the door and bolted outside. The coward hadn’t escaped yet. It was Oizis—the same one from before.
How did he get here? How much did he hear? Where did he hear it from?
Unlike his usual stammering demeanor, Oizis fled with all his might. Ekion pursued with equal desperation.
If Hector had been there, he would have caught him within twenty paces, but Ekion’s speed wasn’t particularly fast. Still, he was somewhat faster than Oizis.
They ran along the path circling the village’s outskirts. The village wasn’t crowded. It was oat harvest season, and except for prosperous families like Ekion’s, everyone had sent even their children to the Meadow.
Oizis hesitated about which direction to take, wavering mid-flight, and Ekion gradually caught up. It was already too late to return to the village, so Oizis decided to head toward Zero’s Library and changed direction.
But that path was all uphill, and Oizis, already exhausted from running, was gasping for breath. Before he’d climbed halfway, Ekion caught up from behind and grabbed his collar.
“You damned bastard!”
Ekion was also breathing heavily. But Oizis, already terrified, cowered without even thinking of resistance despite facing only one opponent.
Accustomed to Ekion’s harsh language, he’d forgotten that Ekion’s strength was no different from his own.
Ekion tried to sweep Oizis’s legs to knock him down, but his own legs gave out and he stumbled. Still, he managed to drive his knee into Oizis’s stomach and topple him.
“A wretch like you…”
As Ekion raised his foot toward the fallen figure, Oizis suddenly seemed to realize something and rolled sideways. Then he scrambled across the ground, desperately trying to escape.
Just as Ekion, fury blazing, reached out to grab him again—
“That’s enough.”
An unexpected voice rang out from above, and Ekion froze as though he’d glimpsed a specter. Oizis, too, startled and lifted his head.
Standing before them was Isolet—her twin blades sheathed in crossed scabbards slung across her back, dressed in a hunter’s garb.

“Which is precisely why I summoned Nauplion Priest.”
Despoina turned her gaze toward Nauplion Priest with eyes cold as winter frost. He dreaded what question might emerge from her lips. No—his dread stemmed from a different source entirely.
He did not wish for the truth to be revealed. He longed for what lay hidden to remain concealed forever.
“Tell me, Morpheus Priest. You studied the records of Ilios Priest, did you not? Did you find the answers you sought within them?”
“The conclusion I reached was singular. That monster, the calamity that befell the Island—it was never a native inhabitant of these lands. It likely came from another world entirely.”
“Another world?”
“Much like the world that lay beyond Old Man’s Well, a realm similar in nature. A place where evil beings once dwelled—creatures summoned by the hands of a Sorcerer King who had once been great but fallen into corruption, those that descended upon the Ancient Kingdom and consumed it.”
“Then it may well be connected to the blade whose identity we seek to uncover.”
Morpheus gazed upon Nauplion Priest before answering.
“I too must confess that while wielding that blade previously, I arrived at conclusions similar to those of Desi Priest. My study contains many antiquated objects, among them artifacts brought from the Ancient Kingdom. I conducted experiments particularly with items that emerged from the Other World within the well, and I discovered that they resonated with that blade. When darkness fell upon the Island, I was in the midst of testing contact with these very objects.”
Then Despoina spoke.
“Priests, are you aware that when two worlds—this one and the other—make contact, their boundary is briefly shrouded in darkness?”
“….”
Nauplion Priest realized there was no turning back now. He steeled himself and opened his mouth to speak.
“I understand. Then….”
“Wait. Hear me out first.”
Despoina extended her hand and placed it upon the ground. Nauplion Priest’s eyes suddenly fell upon the empty circle beside her.
Among the seven circles in which they sat, six were designated for the six priests. Each priest had been assigned their place.
And one circle remained empty—the circle known as “the Victim’s Seat.”
Long ago, the Moon Queen was a greedy ruler who sometimes demanded living sacrifices. Thus, when the great ceremony called the Chilwon Ceremony was performed, that seat was given to the one destined to be sacrificed.
For one day, that person held the same station as the priests, until they shed blood beneath the Moon Queen’s gaze.
But it was a custom long since abandoned. The seventh circle always remained vacant. Only the existence of the empty circle itself evoked memories of the old days. The offering for the Chilwon Ceremony had been replaced with beasts.
Yet none knew precisely when the practice of sacrifice had begun, nor when it had ended.
A seat for the sacrificed…. Perhaps such closed societies as theirs inevitably craved living offerings. Perhaps they required innocent youths as fuel to sustain their world.
“As you all suspect, Daphnen’s blade is connected to the beings of the Other World that brought ruin upon the Ancient Kingdom. However, we cannot assume the blade itself is evil merely for this reason. For no world is entirely malevolent, and it is far more likely that only the most wicked among that world’s inhabitants were drawn into our kingdom.”
Despoina continued, her gaze returning to Nauplion Priest.
“Therefore, I believe that blade might instead be used for good. It may accomplish what we cannot achieve through our own strength alone. So I have considered the losses we have suffered. The greatest harm we received from the Other World was the massacre that occurred then, and the loss of Ilios Priest. These are things already beyond recovery. Yet there is a loss that continues even now, here among us.”
“It is you, Nauplion.”
Morpheus spoke. His eyes burned with fervent intensity as he regarded Nauplion Priest.
“Your body bears a wound that will not heal, does it not? And you yourself know the means to mend it, do you not?”
Nauplion Priest replied without expression.
“If I knew, why would I have remained silent all this time?”
“Because you refuse to betray your bond with the old priest.”
“There is no such thing.”
“Nauplion Priest, you conceal something regarding the final moments of Ilios Priest, do you not? Poison is cured by another poison—the wound you received from the creatures of the Other World can only be healed by something equally born of that Other World.”
Morpheus cried out, unable to contain himself any longer.
“I saw the truth in Ilios Priest’s records. Ilios Priest knew how to heal your wound! And yet he never told you, knowing full well!”
“Please, stop this at once!”
At last, a passionate cry burst from Nauplion’s lips.
“It is in the past. It has already slipped from my hands! What use is there in revealing it now? That heart, that crimson heart has already melted away with the monster’s corpse….”
Nauplion fell silent. A faint bloodshot tinge marked his eyes—the trace of suppressing an unbearable memory.
“Please, let us speak of this no more. Five years ago, when I left The Island on my own terms, I resolved to forget the question of life and death. That conviction remains unchanged.”
Though breathing became difficult, thoughts of the young boy gradually calmed my heart.
“I, I now think of only one thing… only one. To protect that wretch Daphnen and help him grow into someone worthy. There is nothing else for me to consider.”
“That is not so.”
Despoina, returning to the tone she once used with her cherished boy, opened the hand she had pressed against the ground.
Red characters were marked upon her palm. Though nearly faded and difficult to read, they unmistakably spelled “Winter’s Rose.”
“I do not know what these characters mean. However, I obtained them while conducting experiments with that blade. I cannot open a door to the Other World, which is an entirely different realm. But I do understand to some degree how to communicate with Alternate Space. So I suspended that blade between the two spaces and observed its reaction. I clearly saw a faint darkness settling upon that boundary. The moment I reached in to retrieve the blade, I felt a burning pain, and when I brought it out, these characters remained upon my hand.”
Despoina closed her hand and looked at Nauplion.
“What conclusion did I draw from this phenomenon? These characters surely came from Alternate Space, or the Other World. That blade… possesses the power to draw in beings from the Other World.”
Morpheus started and cried out.
“Priest, surely you do not mean to use that blade again….”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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