Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 222

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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 222.
Choose the Dawn (34)
The moment Ryusno finished his explanation, Yurichi let out a cry that bordered on a shriek.
“That bastard appeared in Ron? Damn it all!”
“He showed up at Blado Jineman’s residence and then vanished. Though I’m uncertain how much credence to give the accounts of elderly servants and maids.”
“Ugh… I’ve actually begun to admire that monster! Ron, you say? He’s not even a complete mage, and here I am thanking the heavens I’m not the one being hunted!”
Ryusno watched Yurichi’s reaction with an expressionless face before speaking.
“But apparently Blado Jineman had his daughter stolen from him.”
“What? How old is this daughter that she’s already being abducted? What kind of man are we dealing with?”
“That’s not what I meant. One of Blado Jineman’s trusted subordinates betrayed him and disappeared with a child. That subordinate was someone who once served Blado’s older brother—the father of the boy we’re pursuing. It seems he bided his time in servitude for years, waiting for his chance at revenge.”
“Of course that’s what happens when you employ a traitor. No matter how capable a betrayer is, he’ll eventually become a curse upon you.”
Having voiced an opinion typical of Trabaches, Yurichi pressed further.
“So now we must head to Ron?”
“I’m still considering that. There are two possibilities. If Boris Jineman truly appeared at Blado’s residence, I suspect it was for revenge—against the uncle who killed his father. What other reason would he have to seek him out now?”
“That makes sense, but what’s the other possibility?”
“As you know, years have passed. The boy’s appearance has changed considerably. You’ve seen it yourself from our inquiries here—his face is unrecognizable. Is it truly possible that servants in a foreign land would identify such a transformed face correctly? Don’t you think it’s plausible they mistook someone else entirely?”
“…It’s possible.”
Recent unexpected failures had made Ryusno far more cautious than before. He refused to overlook even a single possibility. This meant his thoughts had grown somewhat excessive in their deliberation.
“That’s why I don’t believe we should rush headlong in that direction. But there’s another detail that troubles me—the matter of Blado’s daughter. Did Blado truly abandon his residence because of his daughter?”
“What are you saying? If not for his daughter, then you’re suggesting Blado fled to escape from that boy?”
“It’s possible. You’ve seen it yourself—Boris Jineman has apparently grown into a swordsman of considerable skill during our search. Don’t you think it’s plausible that Blado used his missing daughter as a pretext and deliberately went into hiding?”
“This is getting complicated. Hmm… so what should we do?”
“We split up.”
It was the obvious and efficient answer. Yurichi nodded and asked.
“How then? One of us to Anomarad and one to Ron?”
“No, there’s no need to go to Ron. If that boy is pursuing the vanished Blado for revenge, or if Blado truly went searching for the man who took his daughter, and if that man is indeed the betraying subordinate, then Ron is not where they would go.”
“Then where?”
“Longord. Their homeland.”
Shortly after, Yurichi nodded as well.
“It’s not far at all.”
For two assassins raised amidst the bloodshed of Trabaches, such deductions were hardly difficult.
A man who had bowed his head for years, waiting for revenge against the one who killed his former master, finally kidnaps that master’s daughter and takes her to the old master’s residence to kill her. It was a plausible scenario, was it not? Moreover, it was a tale worthy of Trabaches itself.
The two nodded to each other and set their plans in motion.

A sound of wind echoed through the air.
It was the sound of wind passing through a deep hollow—the kind of noise that might emerge if a human were breathing solely through their throat. Such a sound came from the ruins standing before me.
Whoooooosh….
Boris dismounted from his horse and gazed up at the transformed manor. The last image he had seen was a silhouette shrouded in darkness, consumed by the flames of conflict. Perhaps that was why it felt so unreal.
It had changed far too much from the manor he remembered seeing in his mind until he was twelve years old.
For a long time, no one had lived in Jineman Estate. No one came to visit or maintain it.
Once corroded by toxic substances, and then subjected to wind and rain alongside temperature fluctuations, nearly all the wooden sections had rotted away. Even the stone portions were cracked and crumbling in places.
As I circled the manor, I saw black moss covering every wall—it felt like the plants that had grown through the cracks of the stones I had seen in the Alternate Space on The Island.
Had I not spent twelve years away from this place, I would have found it difficult to believe the house had been abandoned for less than a decade. Perhaps I might have even wondered if anyone lived here at all, only to shake my head in doubt.
Though it resembled a massive tomb, no one slumbered within. All that remained were decaying furnishings.
It was strange, but I felt only desolation from the manor’s appearance—neither sorrow nor regret. Rather, it felt like someone else’s house.
Yet within those walls lay the room where Yefnen and I had laughed and played, along with the corridors, stairs, and Dining Hall, all preserved as they were.
On my way here, I had thought about Yenichka, Blado’s daughter.
Of course, I had never seen the child before. However, I remembered that when I had captured a female assassin in Lemme long ago, Blado had gone on about having a daughter. If I believed that woman’s words, Yenichka would be an innocent child who followed people readily.
Strictly speaking, she was my cousin. Having never had a younger sibling, I found her existence oddly unsettling.
She was a young child with no guilt, so it was natural to save her if possible. Yet whenever I tried to think that way, my long-standing animosity toward Blado reared its head and blocked any conclusion.
I had gone to see Blado Jineman not to forgive him. When I resolved to fight the final battle, I went for one last conversation because if I failed, the opportunity to forgive or punish Blado would vanish entirely.
Apart from my Elder Brother’s dying words and my own hatred—those two choices—I wanted to know if I was capable of forgiveness. Even if it was not revenge, there was a debt between Blado and me that had to be settled before death.
Yet at this moment, Blado must believe he was receiving divine punishment.
He said he had become like a madman because of his vanished young daughter. The moment I thought it pitiful, the image of my younger self and my Elder Brother Yefnen, fleeing from Blado’s hands, came to mind.
The Silent Steward had taken Yenichka to make him pay the blood price of Father Yulken Jineman. If even the steward did such a thing, should I, his own son, do the opposite and save that child?
Yet a child is still just a child….
It was at that moment. I saw what looked like a flicker of light from a window on this floor.
Was it an illusion?
Though it disappeared quickly, I had clearly seen it, so I could not leave and hesitated for a moment. There was no way anyone could be living here, was there?
Even if abandoned, this was still Jineman territory—more precisely, Blado Jineman’s domain. No one would dare to intrude and live in the old manor of House Jineman, now that the family had become close to the Khan Elector. Especially not in such a decayed manor that looked as though ghosts might emerge from it.
Yet I had certainly seen it.
I had ridden my horse without rest all day and was somewhat exhausted. There was still about an hour before sunset.
I moved my steps toward the manor’s entrance.
Only after entering did I remember that the roof had been breached on that last day. During the time no one had cared for it, that hole had grown larger, and fallen leaves, dust, soil, and stagnant water had accumulated in layers throughout every corner.
I thought about peering into the room I used to occupy, but when I saw large wooden planks nailed across the entrance with large nails, I simply gave up. My Elder Brother Yefnen’s room was the same.
Though objects bearing his touch might still remain, I harbored no lingering attachment and climbed to this floor.
I paused briefly upon seeing Father’s Study door slightly ajar, but I passed by and went to where the Banquet Hall had been. That was where I had seen the light.
The door was closed.
With the innocent curiosity of childhood, when I used to peek in hoping to taste delicious party food, I turned the doorknob with a similar feeling.
The door, which I had tried to open silently, suddenly swung open as though a nail had come loose, creaking on its hinges. I barely managed to grasp the doorknob and pull it back. It was just as I tried to look inside.
“Welcome, Young Master.”
Though I had somewhat anticipated it, I was greatly startled. This place alone seemed to belong to a different manor entirely.
The trash had been cleaned away, the dust on the floor wiped clean, and it was as though I had briefly returned to the time when I lived here. Moreover, was that not a meal prepared on the long table in the center?
“I seem to be quite fortunate. To meet you, Young Master, on such a day, in such a place. Please, come and sit here.”
I vaguely recalled the last time I had seen Tulk five years ago. Even when I lived in this manor, I rarely had the opportunity to encounter him. Yet Tulk seemed to recognize me at a glance, despite how much I had changed.
Conversely, I was startled by how little Tulk had changed.
How could he possibly look identical to my memories? Even his clothing remained the same.
Had he done so intentionally?
Tulk wore a long dark green jacket, just as he had when Yulken Jineman was the master of this manor. His face remained expressionless as always. Save for a few streaks of gray woven through his swept-back hair, he was a perfect recreation of his former self.
The banquet hall, though unable to conceal all signs of neglect despite the cleaning, bore a pristine white tablecloth and chair covers. The dishes, knives, and forks gleamed with silver luster. The prepared meal was arranged with such formality it approached a semi-formal feast.
A large lamp had been placed beneath the table—that was the source of the light I had seen. As Tulk extinguished the lamp and transferred the flame to the four candelabras atop the table, he spoke.
“Why do you continue to stand there?”
Having witnessed such an extraordinary sight, I had momentarily lost my composure. Now I regained my senses.
Tulk… yes, he had disappeared with Blado’s daughter. Then where was young Yenichka?
“Steward, you… did you not bring the child?”
“Rather, Young Master Boris Jineman.”
Having lit all the candles, Tulk withdrew to the left side of the table and spoke.
“You are no longer a child. Moreover, with the Master and Young Master Yefnen departed, are you not the head of House Jineman? How could you address me with such formality? Speak to me plainly.”
Head of the family?
Since I had abandoned the family and become a wanderer, I had never entertained such a thought. Moreover, speaking informally to Tulk felt extraordinarily strange.
Yet sensing he would not answer unless I complied, I managed to speak.
“The child… where is Yenichka?”
“You speak of young Miss Yenichka? I shall explain presently. For now, please sit and take your evening meal.”
Tulk’s demeanor was far too solemn and earnest to be theatrical, making it difficult to carelessly shatter such an atmosphere.
Though I had been uncertain moments before whether I even needed to save Yenichka, I now realized I needed to hear of her whereabouts. To do so, I would have to comply with Tulk’s wishes.
I pulled the chair at the head of the table toward me and sat.
Looking more closely, it seemed a similar meal had been laid at the distant seat across from me. Yet that place bore no signs of being eaten from, remaining untouched and disordered.

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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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