Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 107

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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 107.
Blood That Won’t Fade (20)
“Aaaaaaaah!”
Hector, who had resigned himself to the death closing in before him, jerked his head up at the piercing cry. In this moment, in this place, a shout born not of fear but of something else?
Beyond the monster’s shoulder, atop the stairs that rose there, stood the Young Boy he had believed dead.
The Young Boy’s hands were empty, yet beside him gleamed a sword radiating an otherworldly luminescence. When he had left the Young Boy behind in the Town Hall, that blade had not been there. It was as though it had moved of its own accord, traveling to where it was needed.
“Death… death… so much death! Are there still lives left to steal away!”
For Daphnen, only one being existed in the world. He crouched low and seized the Winterer, launching himself forward in the same motion.
This action in this moment was neither courage nor recklessness—it was something else entirely. In his half-awakened state, reality and dream had blurred into one. He was the small child who had abandoned his Elder Brother before Emera Lake and fled; simultaneously, he was another boy seeking to atone for that sin.
The blade shone white as it rose high. With only a few steps remaining between him and the landing, he hurled himself through the air and slashed at the creature’s wing.
Or so he thought he had.
A sound like tearing fabric echoed through the space.
Lying sprawled on the ground, Hector understood that this moment was his only chance. Remarkably, the monster had folded one wing as though evading Daphnen’s blade, launching itself in the opposite direction instead.
Hector scrambled to his feet and ran with every ounce of strength, desperate to escape that place.
Yet suddenly, a strange guilt seized his ankles.
The worst terror he had felt witnessing Teacher Jill’s death surged back to life. In that moment, he had first truly grasped that the act of killing was not a light thing.
According to the Moon Queen’s teachings, both the guilty and the innocent could die in an instant, at any time, and if death was their due—then why, why did he still believe his own life held value?
The Island People, who spoke of killing so easily when things went awry and who did kill so readily, had they ever truly felt their own death approaching?
No, they had not.
They still lived, never having died.
Only those who had felt their necks about to snap with a single gesture, who had truly sensed that moment, had the right to pass judgment on another’s life.
Or perhaps, only those who had actually died deserved the right to kill another!
Hector turned back.
“Daphnen!”
Daphnen seemed not to hear Hector’s voice. Despite his massive frame, he pursued the creature—which moved with astonishing speed—and charged again and again, blade raised.
Unable to know Daphnen’s past, Hector found himself in awe of the Young Boy’s audacity—the very boy he had once contemplated killing. He doubted he could ever muster such courage, no matter what reward was promised.
He adjusted his grip on the blade. It was not gratitude he felt, nor was it an urge to apologize. It simply felt like what he had to do.
He was still a subject of the Moon Queen… and he would repay the debt of a lifetime spent under her teachings.
“Take this as well!”
In the instant he thought his trembling blade had pierced the monster’s back, Hector’s body was already flying through the air. He never knew what had struck him.
Darkness crept across his vision. Yet as warm blood pulsed from his chest and he pressed his hand against it, he felt his mind drift into an unexpected peace.

It was not an equal fight.
Though I pursued from behind, I felt no sense of threatening my opponent. The creature was not evading Daphnen. It was merely dodging the sword gripped in his hand.
If this monster were the same kind as that thing at Emera Lake, why would it flee from Winterer?
That itself remained an unsolved mystery. Back then, Yefnen had certainly caught Winterer, yet if the situation were the same now, why would he not be safe?
But there was no time for deep contemplation. The slightest hesitation would change everything in an instant.
The monster was not sparing Daphnen out of any fondness. The moment it found an opening, it would shatter the Young Boy’s skull while evading Winterer.
Those eyes like misty flames and wings with exposed bone looked all the more abhorrent beneath the daylight. The fact that it stalked about in broad day rather than lurking in the Swamp’s darkness only fueled my hatred further.
I had lost my family in darkness. Therefore, the monster must not emerge from darkness.
My homeland in memory was desolate and damp, and all the darkness that consumed my childhood had come from there. The monster belonged there.
Until I returned and beat it to death, it should have cowered like a cursed life in that land.
Had I forgotten? No. Never—my instinct had not forgotten. If there remained but one target for vengeance, it was this creature.
Elder Brother had told me not to seek revenge against Uncle, but he had never said not to kill the monster. Only now did I understand.
This alone lay outside the promise.
“You… you… are not my forbidden target!”
How heavy was that final promise made with my dying Elder Brother. That promise, which could neither be forgotten nor abandoned, had been the source of what robbed Daphnen of his will to find life’s purpose and made him desire escape.
Until now I had not realized it, but now I knew with certainty. What had suppressed my life, what had locked away my heart, what had rendered me powerless and made me believe I could do nothing—it was a taboo that hung over my entire existence like a curse.
A vengeance I desperately desired but must not commit.
An incantation that never suited my true nature, which was never timid to begin with.
It was but a moment when I thought the sword had suddenly quickened. Winterer, now gleaming white, had stretched forth and torn the creature’s left wing clean through.
Two talons caught on the descending blade and were severed outright. Not blood, but something like gray mist billowed forth in thick clouds. Daphnen, startled instead, froze for a moment.
The ball of fire embedded in the creature’s eyes began to burn fiercely. The torn wing seemed to spew smoke and burn. Whatever it was, something belonging to that life was leaking away.
Slash!
The other wing came crashing down toward my head. Three awl-like talons burst forth from that wing simultaneously.
Having committed to an exceptional attack, Daphnen was defenseless. My extended arm could not be withdrawn, and the sword was still thrusting into the distance.
There was no time even to sense the end.
“….”
Instead of ending, an unfamiliar sound came from the right. It was the sharp ring of metal striking metal.
Clang!
I thought I would never turn around again, yet I did. Twin blades crossed the creature’s right wing once, then again in an X pattern. Though not torn asunder like Winterer had done, it was a sufficiently devastating wound.
The moment the attack succeeded, she sprang lightly upward, executed a backward somersault, and landed in a defensive stance.
Everything occurred within seconds. From crossing two blades to raising only one and assuming a guard position—it all happened in the blink of an eye.
It was Isolet.
I saw her wield a sword for the first time. I had thought her movements would be swift, but not to this degree. Only the overall flow of motion was visible; each individual action was too rapid to register.
“You… how did you get here?”
Suddenly my senses returned. I quickly retreated while looking at her standing to my right.
Isolet held her left blade horizontally at eye level, while her right sword was poised to strike at any moment. Because I had never seen anyone wield twin blades before, her stance appeared both unfamiliar and extraordinary.
A cold voice rang out.
“How fortunate that you have the leisure to glance to the side.”
The instant I flinched, Isolet’s feet struck the ground again.
After just two steps, an impossible leap for a human followed—acrobatic twists and downward strikes in succession. Her left blade deflected and slid past the creature’s charging talons while her right sword swept low across its back.
I leaped effortlessly over the monster—a creature twice my height. The attack showed no restraint whatsoever, no mercy in its execution.
Zzzzzzz….
The monster emitted a strange sound. Until now, it had made no noise at all, but now it released something akin to a groan, its body beginning to turn.
Daphnen’s eyes went wide. What I’d just witnessed had to be either magic or an illusion. Yet it was unmistakably real!
“Watch out!”
I cried out without thinking. Six razor-sharp talons erupted from both wings of the turning monster, descending upon Isolet as she landed. Daphnen rushed forward without hesitation, driving his blade into the creature’s back.
Squelch!
He pierced the center of the Black Monster’s back, but what his hand felt was hollow—as if the sword had passed through empty air. When he withdrew the blade, the puncture wound slowly filled in like mist reforming, sealing itself shut. Did this creature have no physical body?
Meanwhile, Isolet evaded the first volley of talons striking from all directions, deflected the second, and leaped backward far from where the third and fourth would collide.
Her instantaneous jumping power transcended human limits. In a heartbeat, she’d ascended more than halfway up the staircase. And she’d done it backward.
The monster hesitated now, wary of this new adversary.
Daphnen saw Isolet—and the Ilios Priest who had trained her—in a new light.
That tremendous leap was undoubtedly enhanced by magic. Yet the precise landings each time, the posture adjustments in mid-air, the rhythm of her attacks—these weren’t things that came naturally from being able to jump. They were the result of immense training combined with innate talent.
But the true danger was only beginning.
“Fall back, Isolet!”
A sudden premonition seized me, though I couldn’t explain why. Just as Isolet leaped once more and reached the Town Hall entrance, a massive shockwave erupted.
Half the wall shattered, the remaining door exploded into fragments, and the Swamp surged upward, slamming against the opposite wall. In that instant, Isolet had already propelled herself sideways, landing below the stairs.
Without hesitation, she attacked the monster’s flank again. Her left blade defended while her right blade attacked—the same stance as before, but this time with a low slash.
Recognizing the need for a coordinated assault, Daphnen also rushed forward, directing his blade toward the creature’s left wing.
As my senses cleared, a faint dread surfaced. Yet this monster was far smaller in frame than the one at Emera Lake. Equally malevolent, equally menacing, but that difference brought some measure of reassurance.
But believing we’d gained the upper hand was merely a fleeting illusion.
Suddenly, its wings spread wide, and in an instant, it soared dozens of lengths into the air. If it had wings, it would certainly use them. Had I forgotten that so quickly?
A colossal shadow, silhouetted against the sun, loomed over us both. Backlighting ignited across the blocked sky.
“Move, Daphnen!”
Whether because she considered herself my mentor or because she judged her swordsmanship superior, Isolet moved to shield me.
But I had no intention of sacrificing Isolet for my own sake. I didn’t know how she’d come to be here, but I wouldn’t allow even a single hair on her head to be harmed.
I stepped in front of her, raising my blade high into a defensive stance. Waiting for the descent that would come.
The sky is an absolutely advantageous position. Only those above decide where their arrows will fall.
And from the heavens, the monster dove—not toward Daphnen, but directly at Isolet.
Thud!
I heard the sound of Isolet pushing off the ground. With my back turned, I couldn’t see, but I was certain she’d evaded well. The monster would expose an opening while attacking her, and this time I would strike true.
That’s when it happened. Once more, that strange voice pierced through my mind.

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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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