Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 13

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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 13
The Winter Sword (13)

Yefnen withdrew his hand from the ledger and, in one fluid motion, struck the man across the face with such brutal force that his jaw nearly dislocated. Before the man could even protest, Yefnen seized him by the collar and hurled him to the ground with devastating power.
It happened in an instant. The man was tall but gaunt, his frame devoid of strength—no match for Yefnen’s steel-like arms, honed by years of rigorous swordplay.
The other two men quickly retreated, assuming defensive stances. Yefnen ignored the fallen man and fixed his gaze upon them.
“I find quarreling with you tedious. Simply tell me where those who brought this child and locked us in that barn have gone. Any one of you—speak.”
The men exchanged glances. Though they outnumbered him, they were no match for the young Yefnen, whose body had been tempered through over a decade of rigorous swordplay and martial training. Against two sluggish, middle-aged men, he was vastly superior. Recognizing this, they hesitated to attack, merely watching him warily.
The fallen man staggered to his feet, his face marked with characters where he had pressed his hand against the still-wet ink on the ledger.
“Well, you see…”
As if to speak, he gradually shifted his body toward Yefnen.
The moment I sensed the ambush, I acted without hesitation, throwing my arms around the man’s neck from behind. As I tightened my grip, even my small frame was enough to restrict his breathing.
Yefnen seized the opportunity without delay. He grabbed the man’s shoulder, lifting him, and drove his fist twice into the space between his ribs and chest. Then he struck with his knee. The man flew backward, crashing into a wall stacked with barrels, and the impact sent waves of liquid sloshing through the vessels—the sound echoing throughout the entire building.
Unlike before, Yefnen did not wait for his opponents to counterattack. Instead, he immediately seized another middle-aged man by the neck and repeatedly slammed his head against the table. Blood—from his forehead or nose, it was impossible to tell—streamed across the ledger.
The last man drew a dagger, but Yefnen, still gripping the second man, executed a flawless spinning kick that sent the weapon flying. At Yefnen’s gesture, I rushed forward and retrieved the dagger.
“Playing with you is tiresome.”
Yefnen took the dagger from my hand. Still holding the second man’s head against the table, he raised the blade high and prepared to strike. A sharp cry escaped the man’s lips as the dagger whistled past his neck, embedding itself in the wood beside him.
“Ask me again, and…”
Yefnen withdrew the dagger. That was sufficient.
“I’ll talk! They went to Helmer’s Tavern. They’re leaving tonight. They’re the type who move under cover of darkness. We didn’t want any part of this, but they had leverage over us…”
“And you were planning to keep us locked away?”
“Soon, those who purchased you will arrive. They’re a mercenary company from Recordable—they’re always short on manpower, so they buy people and use them as mercenaries until their debt is repaid.”
“They bought us?”
Yefnen let out a bitter laugh at the absurdity. Recordable was an eastern desert nation renowned for its mercenary companies.
Upon hearing that we had been sold to mercenaries, I felt a chill run through me. I could not even fathom what price had been placed upon us.
Yefnen turned to the man pinned beneath the barrels.
“Where is Helmer’s Tavern?”
“Exit through that door, go left down the path, turn at the first corner, and continue. You’ll see a house where they keep a black dog—go around that house to the left and follow the main road. There’s a sign, so you’ll find it easily.”
Having abandoned all resistance, he answered readily. The characters stamped on his cheek twitched with each word, creating an almost comical sight.
Yefnen turned to the last remaining man.
“Did you hear anything unusual in their conversation?”
By questioning each of them in turn, he ensured all three bore responsibility, making it unlikely they would quickly contact anyone. The man, despite having suffered the least, trembled as he spoke.
“They were boasting about acquiring something valuable. They said they’d receive a large sum for selling it.”
“Good.”
Yefnen gestured for me to step outside. Once I had exited through the door, Yefnen backed toward it in a single swift motion and spoke.
“I’m afraid I must ask you to remain here for a time.”
He closed the door and wedged a broom through the handle as a makeshift lock. Yefnen harbored no illusions that they would remain confined for long, but this method was preferable to slaughtering all three of them.
“Let’s go, Boris.”
I glanced nervously down the alley, half-expecting mercenaries to emerge at any moment. I quickly fell into step behind Yefnen.

Twilight descended.
Helmer’s Tavern was not crowded. Rather than entering directly as before, Yefnen circled around to the Backyard.
In the shadowed, darkening Backyard, Yefnen examined the wall and found a place suitable for climbing. He called Boris over, whispered a few instructions, then had him crawl into a spot where many boxes were stacked in the shadows and hide.
Alone now, Yefnen simply grasped the railing and climbed easily to this floor. He then opened a window, hoisted himself through, and slipped inside.
Fortunately, the room was empty. Yefnen exited the room, moved through the corridor to the stairwell landing that connected to the first floor, and peered down.
There they were.
Wills and Joachim had their heads together, conversing. Cups sat before each of them, though neither appeared particularly intoxicated. Yanika Gos and Romaback were nowhere to be seen.
Yefnen did not deliberately suppress the surge of emotion that rose within him. He needed to demonstrate thorough retribution. Not because of those who had deceived and betrayed him, but for Boris’s sake.
My beloved younger brother… If only I could leave him as he is now—so kind and innocent. But I have no time for such wishes.
The thought sent cold sweat trickling down my spine. Yet I waited with composure.
When I spotted a server ascending the stairs, I quickly concealed myself around the corner, dragged him into the shadows, and struck the back of his neck. He collapsed. I took only his white apron, dragged his limp body into the empty room I had just left, and shut the door.
Then I calmly tied the apron around myself, picked up an empty tray, and descended.
I made no effort to hide my face. I only needed them to be deceived for a moment. As long as I avoided the proprietor’s gaze, that was all that mattered. Approaching the table where Wills and Joachim sat, I bowed and spoke.
“Did you call for me?”
They glanced at me, confirmed only the server’s apron, then exchanged looks and spoke.
“Did you call, Joachim?”
“What? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t drink anymore?”
With alcohol warming their minds, they thought their words had crossed, tilted their heads in confusion, then looked back at me. Both were about to say they hadn’t called when I spoke again.
“A female guest outside asked me to bring you to her. She said she has something to deliver to you.”
They exchanged glances again.
“Wasn’t Yanika supposed to be meeting with merchants?”
“No, that’s right. She definitely said she’d go there and then meet us at the Village Entrance right away. It’s not time yet, is it?”
As he spoke, Joachim began to suspect something was amiss. He lifted his head to look at me, placing his hand on the table.
“Ahhh!”
It happened in an instant. The entire hall recoiled at Joachim’s desperate scream. Murmurs of shock rippled through the crowd.
A short blade was embedded in the back of Joachim’s hand on the table. So forcefully driven that the blade had pierced through his hand and into the table itself. Crimson blood spread beneath his palm like a pattern.
I seized the moment of chaos and drew the longsword from Joachim’s waist. My left hand still gripped the short blade. Years of rigorous training had made me capable of wielding both hands with considerable fluidity.
“Who… who are you!”
Wills sprang to his feet and drew his sword. But he had already stepped back a pace—his own safety took priority over protecting Joachim. I stood with my back against a pillar and fixed him with a cold gaze.
“Have you already forgotten, drunk as you were?”
“You… you are!”
Joachim cried out miserably. My left hand did not release the short blade, leaving him unable to take any action. Wills’s eyes darted rapidly around the room. He was searching for Boris to use as a hostage.
I asked him.
“Where is he? It seems you don’t have him.”
Then Wills thrust forward with a lunge. I deflected his attack with ease, wielding Joachim’s sword in one hand. The longsword felt light in hands accustomed to the bastard sword. My blade danced, parrying three consecutive strikes without needing to shift position.
Even so, I remained vigilant for Romaback’s crossbow, which could appear from anywhere. I had witnessed the power of that poisoned bolt the night we first met. It was more fearsome than Yanika Gos’s unproven swordsmanship.
“Where is he!”
This time, I was the one who shouted. My voice dominated the entire hall.
“You know nothing!”
“How dare a petty thief be so brazen?”
Yefnen kicked the chair out from under Joachim. A scream tore through the hall. The pain of the wound in his hand, pinned to the table, was excruciating as it tore open.
At this point, those who no longer wished to be involved began slipping out of the hall. Yefnen spoke to Joachim.
“Speak. Or I will sever your wrist.”
Even Yefnen had never made such a threat in his entire life. Yet today, he had done many things for the first time. None of his actions aligned with his nature. And yet he did them. Because he wanted to make someone he cared for understand something.
“….”
Joachim was right-handed. To lose his right hand was to lose everything. From Yefnen’s demeanor, it seemed he would not delay long.
His associate Willis had already lost his enthusiasm for the attack. The man did not seem easy to subdue, and if things went poorly, Willis could simply abandon Joachim and flee with Yanika Gos and the others. There was no loss in it. After all, they had gathered for money alone, so there was little camaraderie among them.
“You refuse to speak?”
Yefnen raised the longsword. It was Joachim’s own blade, and therefore Joachim himself knew best what its power could do. The edge was well-honed. The thought of his own sword piercing his body made it all the more terrible.
“That sword… Yanika Gos has it.”
Willis took two steps back, removing himself from the sword’s reach. Then he cried out.
“You’re betraying us! Yanika Gos won’t let you off easy!”
Joachim trembled and shouted back.
“You abandoned me first! Go tell Yanika Gos the contract is finished!”
“Do you think Yanika Gos will let you end the contract on your own terms?”
Willis backed toward the entrance. And just before leaving, he shouted.
“All of you keep your necks intact! Yanika Gos of the Black Gloves will come to collect them!”
Willis kicked the door open with his heel and fled hastily. The door creaked for a long while afterward.
“That bastard is the worst of all. I knew it would come to this. Damn it, I should never have gotten tangled up in such a filthy scheme.”
Joachim muttered, then closed and opened his eyes as if dizzy. Blood had flowed so profusely that a pool had formed beneath the table. Soon he began to speak.
“Yanika Gos went to negotiate for the sword, but it was just formality—she actually intended to claim it for herself. Romabak coveted the sword too, but since his primary weapon is the crossbow rather than the blade, he insisted on selling it and dividing the profits. That bastard, he angered Yanika Gos….”
Joachim’s voice grew hollow as he thought of his own predicament.
“Yanika Gos is a terrifying woman. I won’t escape unscathed either.”

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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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