Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 169

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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 169.
The Call of the Sealed Land (15)
“Hearing it again… the shock is quite overwhelming,” Nauplion murmured, lost in thought as his fingertips drummed against the table.
After a moment, Daphnen brought up the graveyard he had visited with Zero on the day of the fire. When Nauplion learned that Zero too had witnessed such spirits, his eyes widened noticeably.
“From what I know, Zero has far less sensitivity to magical forces than ordinary people. How could such a thing have happened? It seems he harbored quite the nostalgia for the old civilization.”
He raised his eyebrows, studying Daphnen intently.
“Ah, then perhaps if we visit that graveyard, we might encounter those spirits again? You’re thinking you’d like to meet them and ask about this current situation, aren’t you?”
It was an honest assessment. Daphnen nodded.
“Yes, if it could be arranged, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. But can we trust them? They’ve been kind to you so far, but that alone proves nothing. Above all, they are beings from outside our world, and no one can be certain of the kindness of such entities.”
On the matter of trust, Daphnen had no adequate rebuttal—he himself had been betrayed by many people repeatedly.
Yet his desire to believe in Endymion was stronger still. Nauplion caught the glimmer in Daphnen’s eyes and discerned his true feelings, but he shook his head nonetheless.
“Even if they told you everything for your sake, that still wouldn’t constitute evidence. We cannot accept the words of spirits as proof. There is no other way but for Oizis to awaken.”
“What if… they possessed the power to awaken Oizis?”
“Hmm?”
Nauplion’s expression became contemplative. Even he found this hypothesis difficult to refute.
“The likelihood would be slim, certainly… But even if slim, you wish to attempt it? If they could awaken him, nothing would be better… Yes, since spirits can possess people, it would be difficult to call it entirely impossible. However…”
Nauplion trailed off, hesitating at length. His gaze met Daphnen’s.
“Very well. I will allow it, but you cannot go alone.”
“You mean to accompany me?”
“Your safety matters to me more than anyone else’s circumstances.”
It remained uncertain whether Endymion would reveal himself while Nauplion was present.
Even when Daphnen had been with Isolet before, Endymion had remained hidden within his body, never showing himself to her.
Nauplion studied Daphnen’s face, his expression becoming stern—as it had been when he taught swordcraft at Belnoir Castle.
“Given the uncertainty of what these beings truly are, I cannot claim my presence would be helpful. But I will not permit you to go alone. I am your guardian, and I will fulfill my duty.”
Daphnen had no choice but to accept Nauplion’s decision. The greatest reason was that he understood his heart and respected his resolve.
Even if this attempt failed, they could consider the next step when the time came.
I had no choice but to follow Nauplion’s words. The biggest reason was that I understood his heart and respected his decision.
Even if I fail, I can think about what comes next when the time comes.

The two of them sought out the secret graveyard Zero had revealed that evening and waited for nightfall to descend.
Daphnen had brought Winterer of his own volition, though it lay bundled within heavy cloth.
Nauplion, stepping into the graveyard for the first time, swept his gaze across the surroundings and offered an impressive observation.
“My, far more people arrived on The Island than I expected. To think the population summoned thus far amounts to only this—we must acknowledge our negligence in this decisive duty.”
The sun descended gradually. Before the surroundings grew dark, Nauplion intended to examine several of the gravestones.
Yet neither Nauplion nor Daphnen possessed any ability to decipher the archaic script carved upon the stones.
Nauplion cleared his throat with a soft cough and made excuses that such work lay beyond his calling. Daphnen glanced at him sidelong and smirked.
“Not all priests possess the same abilities, it seems.”
“Of course not. Each priest has their own domain of expertise. For instance, I doubt you’ll find another priest capable of so thoroughly disarranging a room as Morpheus does.”
“Such a person doesn’t exist among ordinary folk either.”
Daphnen chuckled softly at Nauplion, who pretended to admire the shape of the gravestones in an attempt to brush past the subject, then made his way to the largest stone and reclined against it at an angle.
Shortly after, the sun set completely, and Nauplion came to sit beside him.
They had deliberately brought no lamps or torches. As a result, their vigil took on a rather eerie quality.
“Endymion once spoke of a way he and I might meet again.”
It was something Endymion had said when he appeared suddenly in the dead of night, before the fierce battle with the monster in the Upper Village.
When their consciousnesses touched through the memory orbs Daphnen had left behind as a medium, a passage would open through which he could reach me.
But for that to occur, an event intense enough to shatter the memory orb would need to transpire.
When I fell from the cliff and became trapped in an ice cocoon by Winterer’s power, my spirit encountered Endymion again—likely because Winterer’s history delivered a powerful stimulus to his consciousness.
Yet now, feeling safe beside Nauplion, I could not foresee such a upheaval of consciousness occurring.
How could I possibly make this happen?
After hearing Daphnen’s explanation, Nauplion fell silent as if lost in melancholy thought. Daphnen gazed upward at the dark sky, then at the gravestones whose outlines had become visible as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Suddenly, a story Zero had told came to mind.
“When he awoke, Zero said he saw a great castle built of blue stone. The spirits he witnessed came and went from that castle, and spoke with one another, he said.”
I envisioned the majestic columns of a sacred temple, or perhaps a vanished hall of magic, their capitals adorned with vine-like carvings.
Within the beautiful single-story structure with its triangular pediment, its marble foundation laid in five tiers and long colonnades encircling the north and south sides, I imagined a stone vessel holding the sacred waters of the prophets enshrined within.
When Daphnen’s imagination reached that point, he stopped. Something felt wrong.
Zero had never described the castle’s precise appearance to him. Why did such specific imagery arise? Moreover, it was not a landscape one would naturally associate with the word “castle.”
“I feel… strange.”
Upon recounting what had just occurred, Nauplion furrowed his brow in thought. After a moment, he spoke.
“You’ve seen illusions at the Village Entrance since you first arrived on The Island. The Obelisk you later witnessed, the forest where you played with ghost children—I believe all of those were landscapes of the Alternate Space. And I suspect what you’ve just unconsciously recalled is the same.”
Nauplion glanced at the bundled cloth before continuing.
“You’ve possessed the ability to perceive this island’s Alternate Space from the beginning. You’ve even wandered through it without knowing. That’s undoubtedly Winterer’s influence. Perhaps you’re now serving as the sword’s eyes.”
“Even so, it matters little now. Who can say whether the sword and I are truly in symbiosis? The sword uses me, and I use the sword—each of us obtaining what we desire.”
It was a dangerous statement, yet Nauplion merely regarded Daphnen’s face for a moment without responding.
Daphnen closed his eyes. If Winterer would lend him eyes to perceive something extraordinary, he would not refuse—not tonight. In a situation where he yearned even for power he could never possess, why would he reject the strength within his grasp?
Your strength is my strength.
Darkness shimmered as though veiled in translucent gauze. Beneath the sky, upon the earth, the high cliff draped like a dress hem, gravestones bearing the dead names of the soil, black vines and night’s moss, a silver-blue butterfly soaring above the city of flagstones that had crumbled and been rebuilt—I thought I perceived these things.
The tall Sacred Temple, its walls plastered with the silver of the moon beneath a blue night, existed a thousand years ago and exists still. It was built of shadow. The translucent ones who walk the night are the shadows of living humans. Their garments are woven of mist.
A figure with silver hair cascading down walked slowly, then turned to look at me. And with only their lips moving, they spoke words I could not hear.
I heard nothing.
I strained to listen, but despite the silence all around, I heard nothing at all. I didn’t give up, tilting my ear while attempting to speak myself.
Yet no sound emerged from my lips.
I focused intently on the other’s lips. Soon, though I couldn’t hear any sound, I began to understand the words. They were repeating the same phrase over and over.
‘…Let go of your hand. Release that person’s hand.’
What hand was I holding?
Confused, I looked down at my own hand and realized. It was Nauplion’s hand. I had been grasping it before my eyes closed.
The silver figure draped in mist continued speaking.
Let go of that hand. Release his hand.
I tried to let go for a moment. But Nauplion wouldn’t release me.
As I struggled, I suddenly felt my shoulders being shaken. Countless sounds battered against my ears, yet they were blocked by an invisible curtain and couldn’t reach me.
Then suddenly, a single word broke through. At the same moment, my eyes flew open.
“Boris!”
It was Nauplion who had seized my shoulders and shaken me. He was the one who had called my name.
“Ah… Why are you doing this?”
“Do you only come to your senses when I call that name? Were you asleep? Or….”
When I suddenly tried to wrench my hand from Nauplion’s grasp while my eyes were closed, he had apparently panicked and hastily awakened me.
I looked around with blurred eyes, but the figure with a body that shone like dawn mist had already vanished.
“I… saw them.”
“Them?”
I brought to mind what I had witnessed before continuing.
“Someone called out to me. But I couldn’t hear their voice. They told me to release your hand. I thought if I let go, perhaps I could hear their voice….”
“So you were going to let go? Good heavens, what on earth are you——”
Nauplion’s expression was furious. He seized my hand again, gripping it so tightly it hurt, and spoke.
“Don’t even think of letting go of my hand. I have no intention of letting you sleep for days on end like before, or worse, leaving you to never wake again.”
“….”
I couldn’t decide what to do. I looked up at the sky. The sky above my head was the same as before, and all uncertainty had vanished.
“They say the dead forget themselves for a time and become nothing but desire. It seems they need considerable time before they can look upon the living without desire again. Of course, those I encountered had lived long enough to reach that state.”
“That’s also something the spirits told you, isn’t it? There’s no way to verify whether they harbor desire or not, is there?”
“Mere belief is never always sufficient…. Perhaps that’s how it is.”
The night wind was cold. It was still early spring. Nauplion draped the blanket he had brought over my shoulders and stretched languidly. Then he tossed out a remark as if in jest.
“I don’t know how I’ll manage without you now.”

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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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