Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 114

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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 114.
Blood That Will Not Fade (27)
Without Hector, the Dining Hall felt desolate and hollow. Sitting alone with his meal, Ekion spiraled deeper into thought, layer upon layer of conjecture.
No matter how hard I racked my brain, nothing quite fit. If it were invisibility, the scale seemed too vast; if it were flight, the footprints were suspicious.
The limits of Isolet’s knowledge—unless one counted the dead Ilios Priest—meant no one on The Island could reasonably guess. Yet was she not several times more brilliant than Scoli’s magic instructor?
Suddenly, another thought struck me. If it were possible to suspend a human in mid-air, why couldn’t other objects be suspended as well?
But it wasn’t just one or two things. For instance, even if they were stepping stones, wouldn’t more than a dozen be necessary?
Yet this thought refused to be easily dismissed. Frowning and tilting my head in confusion, I glanced down at the table only to realize I had already finished eating and was stacking the dishes. Habit truly is terrifying.
I cleared the table and returned to my room. It was a night when the absence of my Elder Brother—someone to puzzle through this with—felt profoundly melancholic.
Ekion harbored a secret he could tell no one: last summer, he too had been present in the Ruined Village.
Neither the Priesthood nor even my Elder Brother knew. No—they must never know.
I arrived at that place just after Professor Jilebo, and from a distance, I realized a terrifying battle was already unfolding.
In the next moment, I fled back the way I came without even a moment to consider anyone else’s safety. Confirming my Elder Brother’s fate seemed utterly unimportant.
Returning to the village, I locked myself in my room as if I knew nothing. At that moment, it seemed I would be satisfied if only I alone survived, even if monsters destroyed the entire Island.
But such a thing never happened, and instead of facing my responsibility, I threw myself passionately back into my Elder Brother’s existence. A complex psychology of compensation only deepened my hunger for his victory.
Originally, I had pursued Daphnen out of concern that perhaps Isolet was teaching him swordcraft.
I desperately wanted my Elder Brother to win the Silverscull tournament. The first competitor standing in his way could only be Daphnen. I resolved to find some fault, any fault, to prevent him from competing in Silverscull.
I thought that if I observed long enough, something would emerge. At worst, I could insist he was committing sacrilege—being a disciple of the Priest of the Sword while learning the blade from another. Of course, such flimsy arguments held little promise.
My Elder Brother was scheduled to return in a day or two. I considered postponing my reasoning until then, but shook my head again.
I had always believed myself more capable at such deduction than my Elder Brother, and if I could accomplish something by the time he returned, wouldn’t he be proud?
Yet ultimately, I needed him. Only my Elder Brother could praise my younger brother’s plan and actually carry it out. I lacked such initiative.
Even the children who used to follow me had begun to drift away and act among themselves. My confidence, which had relied on my Elder Brother as a sturdy pillar, had withered further still.
In short, I was cornered. For anything to happen, my Elder Brother needed to return soon.
But it seemed he had lost interest in conversations with me even before going to Silence Island. Was he discarding his younger brother like an adult casting aside childhood toys?
No. Absolutely not!
The thought of enduring this state for mere months was already so terrible; I couldn’t bear to imagine it lasting a lifetime.
I had to restore it. Reclaiming my Elder Brother’s attention and living as we once did—that was my only goal, my only hope.
To achieve that, I absolutely had to solve this mystery.
My resolve hardened. I would stay awake through the night, and before dawn broke, Isolet would not be outside. Going there myself to investigate was the only answer.
“Come on, come on, is that fast enough? Hurry now, yes, dodge like that and then I’ll do this….”
Nauplion’s wooden sword struck Daphnen’s back squarely. The blow landed so hard he nearly tumbled forward.
“…you got hit on the back, you fool.”
Even as he said this, Nauplion felt a quiet satisfaction. This was the same boy he could handle easily with one hand at Belnor Estate, yet now he couldn’t block without paying careful attention. Impressive progress.
Suddenly, a retort came.
“Honestly, wouldn’t it be better if you drew a real blade? I’m fine with the wooden sword, but when my opponent has one too, there’s no tension at all. Sometimes I think I’d rather just take a hit and be done with it.”
Nauplion crossed his arms with an exasperated expression and shouted.
“Just take a hit and be done? Am I going too easy on you? Do you think hitting you gives me something? Haven’t I always told you to practice as if it were real combat?”
“It doesn’t work out the way you say it will. Besides….”
Daphnen spread both arms wide, still holding the wooden sword.
“Getting hit all winter long has built up my tolerance. Tch.”
Nauplion narrowed his eyes and glared at the young boy.
“So you want me to hit harder, is that it? My body’s been feeling stiff lately anyway, so this is perfect for loosening up….”
“Ah, there’s no helping age, I suppose? It must be because you’re in your thirties.”
“And you think you’ll never reach your thirties?”
He tossed aside the wooden sword, and the chase began. Daphnen fled while calling out mischievously.
“Even if I reach my thirties, by then you’ll be in your forties—late forties at that! So why should I worry? Isn’t that right?”
But he was caught in the end. Despite being pinned by a man in his thirties, the teenage boy twisted his limbs on the ground without any intention of yielding his point.
“Ah, respecting elders is really hard! I have to let you catch me when you chase me….”
“Then show some respect with your mouth too. I’m half tempted to forget this friendship and just adopt you outright.”
Early spring’s yellowed grass clung to his hair and clothes. They rolled around once more in that state. Like two mischievous children who had forgotten about ruining their clothes and facing their mother’s scolding.
While rolling, they accidentally crushed the wooden sword beneath them, and both let out a cry almost simultaneously.
“Ow!”
Nauplion lifted Daphnen up in his arms. Then he suddenly spoke with a serious expression.
“Let’s stop. People will think the Priest of the Sword plays around like children.”
“You already played plenty, and now you’re pretending otherwise—that’s funny.”
“…Why do you only become so quick-witted when you’re beside me?”
They both stood up and bounced around, brushing off dust and grass. Nauplion grumbled.
“I don’t particularly mind being in my thirties, but the way you keep bringing it up is getting under my skin. I was a teenager once too.”
“I know. But, um… do you think it would be good if I competed in Silverscull?”
When he turned to look, his expression showed bewilderment at the sudden change of topic.
“Why Silverscull all of a sudden?”
“Why, do you dislike it? If you do, I won’t go.”
“….”
“I don’t particularly want to go. I didn’t even know such a thing existed before, remember? You were the first person to tell me about it. Anyway, I’m not really attaching much meaning to it….”
Nauplion, who was picking up the wooden swords from the ground, cut him off.
“It would be good to try it.”
“Um, Priest?”
He had suddenly used a title he didn’t usually call him. Nauplion responded blankly.
“Why are you calling me that?”
“If I go out and win… would that not be helpful to you, Priest?”
Daphnen’s expression was serious. The two faced each other for a moment. Quite seriously.
Just as it seemed something was about to be said, Nauplion extended his hand and plucked a strand of grass stuck to Daphnen’s chin.
“….”
They faced each other again. The moment he thought this was finally the atmosphere for something to be said, Nauplion extended his hand once more, this time removing grass from his hair.
“What are you doing! Are you looking for grass right now?”
“No, it just caught my eye.”
“Aren’t you going to answer what I asked?”
Nauplion looked intently at Daphnen’s face again. This time, Daphnen eagerly brushed both his hands over his head and face, as if to shake off any grass that might be clinging there.
“Yeah, that’s right. There’s none now.”
“That’s not what I meant….”
“Fine.”
It seemed I had just heard his answer.
“Would you mind repeating that once more, Priest?”
“I said fine. Go compete in Silverscull. While you’re at it, winning the championship wouldn’t be bad either. Oh, but don’t misunderstand—I’m not saying you have the skill to win. You still have a long way to go.”
Daphnen lowered his head and then broke into a quiet smile. Suddenly, he threw his arms around Nauplion in a tight embrace.
“What the—! Are we wrestling now?”
“Haha, no! Thank you for being honest with me!”
Releasing his grip, Daphnen picked up the wooden sword from the ground. The hour he had promised to spend before going to see Isolet had already slipped away.
“Well then, I should get going! Do you think learning the Sacred Chant Tradition might help me win the championship?”
Watching Daphnen dash down the slope, I muttered with puzzlement.
“What did I say wrong?”
A moment later, I realized something and muttered again.
“Did he just interpret my words as permission to carry a real blade?”

“Ah, of course I am always in awe of your prowess. In all my years, I have never witnessed fists move with such speed. In any case, you do this and that, and one thing leads to another, and somehow everything gets done, and so when you leave us, how could we fragile folk possibly survive in this harsh world? So please, spare us further talk and just… please…”
Yurichi Fredan spilled out whatever nonsense came to mind, and eventually found himself so disgusted by his own words that he turned his head away and covered his mouth.
But when he looked forward again, his face still wore that gentle, innocent smile. The intended effect was something like ‘the cute younger brother.’
“I had strong friends back then, but even if they all attacked you at once, they wouldn’t be worth a single punch to you. I have never seen anyone as strong as you.”
If Marinov had heard this, she would have grabbed an axe and rushed at him with deadly resolve. Though, would she come at me or at this barbarian?
“Ah, well… there’s no need to say such things… but hearing your words, I realize I was mistaken.”
“See? I told you so, didn’t I? Ah, this is wonderful. Look at our Elder Brother’s face—it’s gone completely pale. From now on, don’t tease us with talk of leaving and such. Our Elder Brother has a weak heart; he’ll faint.”
These words were directed at Ryusno as a form of revenge, since he was the one who had first conceived this plan and was now putting me through this ordeal.
But Ryusno, whose face was always pale anyway, showed little reaction.
“Well then, shall we go? I misspoke to both of you, so let me buy you dinner. How does that sound?”
‘Rice’ was apparently some kind of food made from grain, but I had no idea what it actually was. All I knew was that this naive barbarian mainly said ‘let’s go eat rice’ when he meant ‘let’s go eat.’ Beyond that, I had no desire to understand.
“Yes! After eating ‘rice,’ our Elder Brother will surely feel better. Elder Brother, let’s go!”
Only then did Ryusno approach the barbarian and, bowing deeply at the waist, spoke with surprising formality.
“Thank you. Then we shall place our trust in you alone.”
I could only let out a hollow laugh. After several months, I should have grown accustomed to it by now, but seeing the normally composed and calm Ryusno acting so obsequiously still created a profound sense of dissonance in my mind.
Though, to be fair, I’m the one doing all the groveling.

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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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