Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 179

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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 179.
The Voice of the Sealed Land (25)

“So you didn’t choose to chase off with three fives, and instead wagered everything on rolling all sixes. I understand. But there is still something you don’t know. The ability that made you contend with me and spin the dice—it did not come from your chant. Your chant remains too incomplete for such feats. At best, it served as an admirable conduit, allowing the power from beyond to answer your hopes. The true source of the power you wielded was none other than that blade.”

Daphnen glanced in alarm at the Winterer beside him. Of course, the light that had shimmered across the blade had already faded.
Yet the Regent King spoke without displeasure.

“It seems you forgot that the blade answers your wishes. A worthy contest indeed. However, since we have both committed infractions, we must settle this final roll to determine the victor. If a five appears, then as you said, you have won. But should any other number show, victory shall be mine. Since neither you nor I throwing seems a fair match, what if Endymion cast the die instead?”

Daphnen nodded. He believed Endymion would render a conclusion biased toward neither side.
Without hesitation, Endymion seized the die standing on its pointed end and tossed it lightly.
With a soft click, the die came to rest showing five. Endymion’s lips curved slightly upward as he spoke.

“There, the conclusion is clear. Father has lost, and Daphnen has won. Father will honor his promise and grant the wish. Daphnen, you have lingered here far too long. It’s best you depart now.”

The Regent King smiled faintly. As he did, the spirits around him barely relaxed their expressions.
The spirits had taken no particular side, yet they had no wish to displease their Regent King.

“Very well, you have won. I shall keep my promise. That child will awaken tomorrow and recover to full health as before. But I tell you this for your sake—do not abuse that blade’s power as you have been doing until you seek out the one who forged it and learn the truth.”
Having just won through the Winterer’s strength, Daphnen nodded with a somewhat awkward expression.
The Regent King continued with a serene face. Yet his words were anything but serene.
“In the moment you desperately desire something, that blade may fulfill your wish while summoning unforeseen calamity without your knowledge. In such a manner, unwanted blood will stain your hands. If you truly wish to avoid tragedy, then until the time comes, keep your heart at peace. Do not harbor fierce hatred for anyone, nor intensely crave any power.”

Perhaps the blade’s former masters had fallen into such circumstances as well. Not because they sought corruption, but simply because they harbored wishes.
“I know it is the most difficult path for a living human, yet you must walk the path we the dead walk—in other words, the path of ‘a human without wishes.'”

It was a most demanding requirement, yet it was also the most precise counsel for Daphnen’s current situation.
Daphnen nodded and accepted it. He felt that the Regent King had given voice to the path he had only dimly sensed until now.
Until now, he had not known how to act to suppress the blade’s power. If he could manage it… he might survive without being consumed by the blade’s strength, as those people the blade had shown him had not.
Yet as a living human, he still harbored many desperate desires.
Enemies he wished to take revenge upon, things he wished to protect, matters he did not wish to forget—could he truly manage while mired in such things?
Could he become ‘a human without wishes’?

“Now depart. Exit through that door and you will find the Forest of Hearts you passed through moments ago, and beyond it, your world will appear. It would be wise to go straight. This time you have no guide, so if your mind is troubled with many thoughts, you will see strange shadows.”
He recalled hearing strange sounds when he had come with Nikitis earlier, though not quite shadows.
“What you will see, even I cannot fully know. You might glimpse events from your past, or perhaps secrets you have long wondered about. But do not follow them too far. Should you lose your way in the Forest of Hearts, you will never find your path again.”

Endymion rose and extended his hand to Daphnen.

「Well, I’ll take you to the entrance.」

Daphnen followed his words. After bidding farewell to the spirits and the Regent King, I walked between the brilliantly shimmering pillars until I reached the first door.
When I glanced back, the spirits had already forgotten about Daphnen’s departure, absorbed in their own conversation, none of them turning to look my way.
Endymion suddenly thrust his hand inside his garment and swiftly withdrew something, pressing it into Daphnen’s palm.

「Farewell. I have a feeling we won’t meet again. I hope this becomes something that guides you at the crossroads of your life. When I look upon the memory eggs you left behind in the Egg Cave, I will remember you.」

Daphnen suddenly asked.
“The final die roll that came up five earlier—that was your doing, wasn’t it?”
Endymion merely wrinkled his nose and offered a mischievous smile.

「I’ll leave that to your imagination. May you always find happiness in distant lands. I believe you can be happy—through your own strength alone.」

The door closed. When I opened my hand, there lay a single ivory die—the very one I had thrown moments before.

Mist still clung thickly to the Forest of Hearts.
Since Daphnen did not know what he would see, I walked with quick steps to avoid losing my way.
At first, contrary to the Regent King’s warning, nothing seemed visible.
Yet the moment I looked around wondering if something might appear, I caught sight of several shadows brushing past me.
The first to appear was an elderly Blacksmith.
He continued striking his hammer, heedless of the people gathered around him, while a familiar white-gleaming sword sheath hung on the wall beside him.
Daphnen knew who he was, but I shook my head and hurried past.
A little further on, before the thicket to my right stood a girl I seemed to recognize from somewhere.
At first I did not realize who she was, but shortly after I recognized her as Charlotte, the princess of Orlanne whom I had met at Silverskull.
Charlotte stood before a grand and ornate stone coffin with a vacant expression. As for Daphnen, I could not even guess who had died.
Yet the moment I stepped forward out of curiosity, the forest around me transformed into a splendid corridor, and I recoiled in alarm, stepping backward. The surroundings returned to forest once more.
This time it was to my left. A lovely infant with golden hair in a high knot laughed merrily and scampered away. Around the child, many people stood with open arms, smiling and waiting, yet I recognized not a single face among them.
Only when I noticed one of them wearing the shoulder insignia commonly adorned by officers of the Trabaches Military did I manage to guess the region.
Daphnen thought the baby’s cute face was somehow familiar, yet this time nothing came to mind.
I walked on. It was around the time I felt I had traveled quite far through the forest. In the distance ahead, I saw two men sitting.
Since they blocked the path, Daphnen could not pass easily and slowed my steps. Then, surprisingly, I heard voices.

「Then… does that mean there is no way to survive? Truly…?」

「Death is the same for you and me. I simply die early, while you die late.」

The first voice sounded familiar to my ears. Yet it was difficult to say with certainty whose voice it was.
The second voice, though lacking vigor, resonated with the clarity of one who sang well. From the way he responded with sudden cynicism to someone concerned for him, he seemed to be a person of strong pride.

「Dying doesn’t seem so painful. Or perhaps it merely feels that way. There are few who await my return…. Now… I can think of nothing. And yet, if someone like you, Priest, does not return, everyone will grieve. And simply… such things… come to mind.」

「Everyone? At the very least, the Regent would be overjoyed if I did not return. Beyond that, there are far too many who despise me. Hmph…. You are no different. Even if you could survive, my absence would be a gain for you.」

「Why do you think such a thing? I have never hated you, Priest.」

Daphnen stepped closer, sensing something in the exchange of titles between them.
In the forest where fine droplets—whether mist or cloud—hung like a veil, two men sat in evident exhaustion. One leaned against a tree, while the other maintained an upright posture with visible effort.
The man against the tree was exceptionally tall, with golden hair. To see his face, I would need to draw nearer.
Daphnen approached cautiously, half-afraid they might notice him. Yet even as he came to stand behind the seated man, neither of them showed any sign of detecting his presence.

「That is a lie. I hated you so deeply that you could not have felt otherwise.」

「There is no need to convince you now. If I speak only the truth, I have always understood your heart, Priest. My sin lies only in that I could not follow, despite understanding.」

The man leaning against the tree let out a scoff and offered no reply.
Beneath prominent brow bones lay eyes carved as if by a blade—a sharp, five-fold gaze of deep blue-grey, a nose drawn in a single line, and a well-defined philtrum…. Handsome, certainly, but possessing an intensity that inspired awe and involuntary reverence, almost overwhelming in its presence.
To see such a man bearing the pallor of injury, his expression strained and weary, stirred an inexplicable melancholy within me.
It was the sorrow one feels witnessing an ancient, towering tree felled by lightning, or a fierce forest hawk pierced by an arrow.
When I glimpsed his jaw—sharp and blade-like as a spear point—between strands of golden hair matted with sweat, a figure began to overlap dimly in my mind.
Moments later, the man raised his hand with difficulty, brushing aside the hair that obscured his face, and tilted his head back.
Only then did Daphnen start in recognition, understanding who he was. A pair of swords far too familiar was sheathed across his shoulders.
Isolet’s blades.
Though the hilts had not yet worn as they would in time, they were unmistakably hers. There had been only one other person who wielded those swords. It could be no one else.
Isolet’s father—the Ilios Priest.
Then this moment I was witnessing… was this how Ilios appeared as he faced death? And the man beside him—who was he?

「You still do not forgive me. As you say, if my life is to end soon, what difference does it make to die a little sooner? After all, this life was once saved by you, Priest. If ending such a life might ease even a fraction of your long-held anger, then I shall do so.」

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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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