Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 212

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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 212.
Choose the Dawn (24)
His wide blue eyes faltered, rendered speechless.
Until now, Lucian’s world had contained no such thing. He had never even heard of its existence. For the first time, he felt that something lay beyond the world he had always known.
He doubted whether such a world could truly exist, yet he could not simply deny it. It was like walking through a spring meadow, lifting his gaze suddenly, and discovering distant eternal snow—ice that would never melt.
“To abandon things as easily as you suggest, one needs certainty that another game awaits. I have never lived that way. I believed that if I discarded this, I would surely starve next time, so every time I let go of something, I needed infinite courage. The final move… tomorrow is rarely within one’s control. No matter how brilliantly victory beckons, few would wager their last crust of bread. I never would.”
“How have you even survived?”
Boris answered not directly, but thus:
“You have dependable parents and many friends, I imagine. There was a time when I had nothing to rely on but a single sword. Death could have come tomorrow without surprise. Life differs from games—there is no next round. Whether from habit or not, even when playing, I cannot abandon my moves as easily as you do.”
“You’re the same age as me. When exactly did you live like that?”
“From twelve years old until now.”
“Even now?”
Boris smiled.
“Yes, even now.”
Lucian furrowed his brow and spoke.
“I… cannot understand. Your parents, relatives, friends—none of them helped you? You must have lived with someone until you were twelve?”
Boris answered with surprising composure.
“Yes. All of them are dead.”
“All of them? Friends and relatives too?”
“Lucian.”
Boris continued with a bitter expression.
“Relatives and friends do not help when there is no mutual benefit. No one wishes to bear a burden.”
Yet there were those who were different…
“There must be people who are different!”
The very thought in Boris’s heart spilled from Lucian’s lips.
“I may not have such good friends, but my Father and Mother have many. Those people always come when good or ill fortune strikes, and they step forward to help with difficulties as if they were their own. They are not the sort to turn their backs on my Father if he became destitute.”
“Perhaps. All things are known only when they arrive.”
“You are too cynical. Living that way, you become someone who cannot rejoice even when good fortune comes.”
“Your words are probably right.”
Both fell silent. Lucian gathered the dice with an unusual gravity, turning them over in his hands.
Boris watched him and thought to himself: How fortunate it would have been if you had never needed to know such things.
“I…”
Lucian opened his mouth, then hesitated. Boris thought this was the first time he had seen Lucian’s face so lost in contemplation.
“No one has ever told me such things. I knew there were many poor people, but beyond that, I was uncertain. So on my birthday, I tried to give them many gifts. Beyond that, I know little. Perhaps… for you, life was winter, while for me it was spring.”
Unlike Lucian, Boris’s expression was not grave.
“That is a gift you received. Regrettably, not everyone begins from the same place. As I said before, your way suits your position well. When you possess as much as you do, there is no need to worry every day about losing it all at once.”
Boris even smiled brightly.
“Perhaps no hardship awaits you in the future, only better things. If you live that way, then as your Father said, ‘abandon what must be abandoned, seize what must be seized’—the most prudent course would be to effectively increase your blessed possessions.”
There was no mockery in his tone. These were words spoken with sincerity.
Yet that very sincerity gave Lucian an even stranger feeling. For the first time since Boris had arrived, a sentiment Lucian had felt every day now flowed from his own lips.
“You are quite different from me….”

Another month had passed.
During that time, Lucian visited the Gambling House roughly once every four days. Each time, he lost considerable sums of money, and the speed of his losses accelerated steadily.
Boris accompanied him consistently, but after that first visit, he refrained from any real interference. He did not report the matter to Lucian’s parents.
On days when Lucian went, he always skipped Sword Training Ground, and so inevitably, he found himself having to address Boris as Elder Brother.
When he returned home, they sometimes played a chasing game, but Lucian had altered the rules so that Boris no longer lost easily.
They kept a running tally of each round’s points, then summed them at the end to determine the overall winner. After roughly five rounds, when they tallied the cumulative scores, while Lucian often won individual rounds, Boris frequently emerged victorious in the total count.
On the eighth visit to the Gambling House, Lucian was rolling dice for some time when he suddenly turned to Boris and spoke.
“You’ve watched me do this often enough by now, haven’t you? Would you like to try? I’ll provide the money.”
Boris silently shook his head. At that moment, while Lucian turned to look at Boris, I noticed suspicious hand signals passing across the table.
I didn’t understand their meaning at first, but once the game resumed, I began to grasp it. It was a signal to start winning from this point forward.
Indeed, after that, Lucian didn’t win a single hand. The considerable sum he had brought quickly vanished.
Less than half an hour after sitting at the table, Lucian turned to Boris with a troubled expression and opened his empty hands.
“I’ve lost it all. I don’t want to leave just yet….”
Then one of the men spoke.
“Shall I lend you some money, Young Master?”
“Ah, really? You would?”
“Of course I would. How much shall I give you?”
“Ah, well… roughly a thousand Elso should do?”
At that moment, Boris approached the table. As he placed a hand on Lucian’s shoulder, Lucian turned around.
“Let’s go.”
“No! I’ve only been losing today. I want to win at least a few hands….”
Boris raised one corner of his mouth slightly as he spoke.
“That’s not just today. Taking on debt is hardly advisable.”
“I’ll pay it back tomorrow without fail!”
“You’re coming back tomorrow too?”
Though the intervals had shortened recently, he had still been spacing out his visits by several days, so Lucian hesitated slightly. But soon he lifted his head and argued stubbornly.
“Either way, I’m playing more today! A thousand Elso is nothing—I can win that in no time! I don’t need to come back tomorrow. I’ll just win it today and pay it back before we leave!”
“You’re being unnecessarily obstinate.”
Then Lucian looked directly up at Boris and spoke with force.
“I want to continue playing. That’s all. Don’t interfere excessively. If you keep this up, I’m going to lose my temper.”
Boris gazed down at Lucian quietly, then spoke.
“Do you remember what you called me today?”
“Elder Brother? What about it?”
In that instant, Boris extended his right hand and struck the back of Lucian’s head with precision.
Though not struck with great force, the accuracy of the blow caused Lucian to lose his balance and stumble forward. Just as his head was about to strike the table, Boris caught him with his left hand and steadied him.
The men and women present could find no justification to intervene and simply watched what Boris was doing, hesitating.
Boris always came with them but never participated in the games, nor was he a servant—he simply stood silently in the background. It was difficult for them to say anything. As expected, Boris said nothing to them.
Boris lifted the limp Lucian to his feet, hoisting him onto his shoulder as he muttered softly.
“That’s what it means to be an Elder Brother.”
Lucian awoke in the dead of night, seething with indignation, and immediately rushed out to find Boris.
Yet Boris was nowhere to be found—not in his room, nor on the terrace or in the parlor where they usually spent time together.
Lucian hesitated to wake the servants, who were already asleep, but suddenly the Sword Training Ground came to mind, and he thought to himself, “Of course!”
The manor at night was so quiet that one couldn’t move about freely as in daylight without risking waking everyone. Walking carefully, it took quite some time to traverse the manor.
When he reached the entrance of the training ground, the door stood open, but there was no light. He wondered if he’d guessed wrong again, yet decided to check inside anyway, so he approached with careful, quiet steps. Since the training ground had no roof, he expected only moonlight.
A bluish glow…. Could this be moonlight?
I stopped abruptly at the entrance. I had no choice. A single sword lay on the floor of the training ground, emanating a radiance—a cool, pale blue luminescence.
Boris sat on the floor a short distance from that sword.
Thanks to the glow, I could see Boris’s eyes fixed upon the blade—eyes filled with a fierce determination I had never witnessed before.
Yet his hands, gripping his raised knees, trembled faintly.
As time passed, the light faded. When the radiance had completely subsided and only moonlight remained, I heard Boris exhale a long breath.
Something felt strange. Boris usually seemed to fear nothing, and having endured much hardship, he rarely showed disturbance at anything. Yet this time, I distinctly sensed that he was trembling.
Soon after, Boris rose and sheathed the sword on the floor. I had seen it before—Boris carried two blades, and this was the second one he never drew.
Boris gazed at the sheathed sword for a moment, then set it beside him and took a deep breath, covering his face with both hands. He was steadying himself.
Lucian, who easily resonated with others’ emotions, held his breath and watched Boris. Suddenly, I felt a pang of sympathy for him.
Surely he was stronger than I was, yet Boris must have faced countless enemies more formidable than himself. He was still young, so he must have his own fears. And since he said he had no one to help him, he must have had to resolve everything alone. How difficult that must have been. Yet despite it all, he had managed so well until now.
He is very different from me. Because he is different… I am curious.
After a long while, Boris’s voice reached me.
“You’ve come all this way—why won’t you come in?”
Lucian had long since forgotten his earlier anger. He hesitated briefly, then suddenly rushed in and sat beside Boris.
“Did you see something frightening?”
“Yes.”
“Is it gone now?”
“Yes.”
Lucian glanced at the sword lying on the floor.
Though he felt somewhat uneasy, it no longer glowed and seemed unremarkable, so he quickly forgot what he had feared. Thus he looked at Boris and asked.
“Why are you out here in the middle of the night?”
“Why did you come here in the middle of the night?”
“Well… Oh, that’s right! I came looking for you. The reason I came looking was….”
Lucian suddenly remembered his purpose and began speaking earnestly, but Boris cut him off with an indifferent tone.
“You came to complain about why I hit you, didn’t you?”
“Yes! Why did you hit me earlier? I was shocked because I’ve never been hit before.”
His tone had already shifted far from complaining, but having remembered, he finished his thought. Boris let out a soft laugh.
“That’s what an Elder Brother does to a stubborn younger brother.”

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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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