Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 291

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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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Episode 61.
Finding the Cat in the Hearth (10)
I crossed to the back of the Stage and began hurling aside the relatively light rafters. I managed to uncover only a portion of the collapsed set. When I forcefully swept away the torn backdrop, a hand suddenly seized my wrist. I flinched in surprise, but quickly called out in relief.
“Joshua! Is that you?”
But the voice that answered was a woman’s.
“Please… get me out of here…”
She appeared to be an actress. I was relieved someone was alive, but my spirits sank. From what I could see, only one of her legs was pinned; she didn’t seem seriously injured otherwise.
“Where… no, where is Max Cardi?”
But the woman was relentless. I felt her fingernails digging into my wrist from how tightly she gripped it.
“I don’t know… or rather, even if I did, I’d have to get myself out first. I’m not the type to die in a place like this… Are you here looking for Cardi? Lucky him, having fans who come to rescue him. Fine, I won’t tell you anything unless you get me out.”
I suddenly wrenched my hand free from her grip and spoke curtly.
“If you’re going to spout such tiresome logic, I’m leaving. You’re pinned down—you hardly have the luxury of choice, do you? Shouldn’t it be the other way around: ‘Answer my questions and I’ll rescue you’?”
“But you’re looking for Cardi…”
“Enough whining. If you want to spend the rest of your life trapped under these rafters, be my guest.”
The actress—Mutia, that is—despite being in no state for logical thought, grasped what my half-threat meant. And that was precisely the effect I intended. There was no satisfaction in being called inhuman by a woman in distress, and I was simply adopting the most effective approach to get the answers I needed quickly.
“The last place I saw him was… below the Stage over there… but there was some man…”
The moment I heard that much, I began lifting away the rafters. It was no simple task—my knuckles were scraped raw—but I finally cleared away what had been pinning her leg. Then I helped her crawl out. Or more accurately, I simply dragged her out.
“That should be enough, shouldn’t it? Now get yourself out of here.”
“Wait! You’re telling me to limp through this chaos on an injured leg? I’m hurt! If you were a gentleman, you’d escort me out of the Theater—it’s only proper!”
Her tone changed the moment she was rescued. But I, knowing that a proper gentleman in such circumstances simply means an unpaid volunteer, pretended not to hear.
“You should at least offer thanks before lecturing me about propriety—it would spare your mouth some embarrassment. But I’m someone who clearly prioritizes what matters. When there’s something more important to attend to, my goodwill toward others has its limits.”
Mutia, forgetting that I had just saved her, flew into a rage.
“You’re a terrible person!”
“Then I suppose I’m a good one?”
No further response came.
My entire body was frigid. It felt as though a cold iron rod had replaced my spine.
A fabric as smooth as velvet seemed to cover me, yet I couldn’t tell if it was truly cloth or simply darkness. That I couldn’t move a single fingertip—was it because the weight of the darkness was as heavy as a tombstone?
I tried to move my lips and speak. I can’t move.
I tried again with all my strength. Someone answer me.
「Are you looking for Kelsniti? Unfortunately, he won’t speak to you. He can’t. He’s pinned down just like you are.」
I moved my lips again, though no sound emerged. What does that mean?
「He’s parasitizing your mental realm. The door there remains firmly shut. So if you can’t find the exit, neither can he. He’s trapped within you. You’ve locked yourself away.」
I didn’t lock myself away.
「Then who’s been desperately barring the doors all this time, holding firm? Open them wide. Then Kelsniti and you will both be free. Do you really think something is crushing you? Try to get up. Rise to your feet. Not a single toe of yours is broken.」
Multiple voices began speaking at once. They were far more human than before, each one distinct and different. Each held its own opinion. Some were encouraging, others mocking.
「Don’t give up. It’s nothing. No one is holding you captive.」
「If that’s the limit, then there’s nothing to be done. Perhaps I expected too much.」
「That bloodline truly never improves, no matter how much time passes. Hehehehe…」
「Let me help you. Just listen to my voice. Move just a little. Please, even just your fingertips.」
Then a different voice reached me. A young woman’s voice, clear and unfamiliar, speaking for the first time.
“Demonic Joshua, is that all your soul amounts to?”
Yet I still couldn’t move. My fingers had turned to stone, and I was trapped in the darkness within myself, utterly immobilized.
Riche had witnessed everything the man she’d mistaken for a staff member had done. But she couldn’t identify who he’d dragged out from the collapsed stage. Or rather, she’d only assumed it was a corpse. The surroundings had been far too dark. Fortunately, that darkness had also prevented the man from noticing Riche’s presence.
The man wasn’t trying to go far. He laid down whatever it was—wrapped in a blanket, whether a corpse or something else—on the ground, opened a bottle he held, and splashed liquid everywhere. Simultaneously, a reek of alcohol filled the air. As Riche brought her hand to her nose, she suddenly recalled what she’d seen moments before: the alcohol placed in the Dressing Room, and the fire near the entrance!
And she understood what the man was trying to do. He pulled out a lamp from beneath the stage, opened its shade, and was about to drop it directly onto the body.
But at that moment, a solid club swung horizontally through the air, sending the lamp flying—and the man’s hand with it. The man let out a shriek and crumpled to the ground, clutching his hand. The lamp, knocked into the Audience Seating, shattered and spilled oil everywhere. As the cloth covering the chairs caught fire, an acrid smell assaulted the nose.
The man, regaining his senses, saw an odd girl wielding a mop handle upside down. Before he could say anything, Riche shouted first.
“Hey! You’re the one! You started the fire! I’ve been watching everything you’ve been doing! So… you rat bastard lurking under these rafters!”
“What? This is, if you’d just listen—”
Riche wasn’t listening to the man’s words. He drew a short blade, but it met the same fate as the lamp, flying away. Then Riche’s mop handle came down toward his crown as if to strike, but she pivoted swiftly, striking left and right. As the man staggered, she kicked him despite wearing a skirt, then jabbed the end of the stick hard into the forehead of the man who’d fallen. The way she held the mop handle and her entire posture didn’t look like someone who’d picked up a weapon by accident.
The man was quickly subdued and stood there dumbfounded. Riche pointed the end of the mop handle at him and spoke.
“Like the rat you are, you must’ve prepared an escape route, right?”
“…”
If he hesitated any longer, his escape route would be cut off too, so the man reluctantly got to his feet. Riche was about to ignore the person lying on the ground—whether corpse or otherwise—and pass by.
“Wait right there!”
A boy burst out from the stage, rushed to the body, and quickly unwrapped the blanket. He lifted the limp form into his arms. He placed his hand on the neck to check for a pulse, removed his coat, and wrapped it around the person. Then he looked at the face.
“…”
A sound like a sigh escaped, though whether it was relief or concern remained unclear. As the boy turned his head toward Riche, she widened her eyes and spoke.
“Huh? Aren’t you the one raised by Trivia and her group of three?”
Maximian didn’t correct her this time about Trivia’s name. And both his swift movements and his serious expression were completely different from that fellow Riche had seen earlier. Bewildered, Riche received no further explanation from Maximian—he simply gestured with his chin toward the man.
“The one who set the fire and caused all this chaos—that’s the one you’re holding, right?”
It was a question that needed no answer. As Maximian turned to look at the man, he saw him about to flee in the gap of their conversation. Maximian suddenly snatched the stick from Riche’s hand and struck the man with a less refined stance than hers, though with considerably more force.
Crack!
“…Is this what you call doing things right?”
The man, having unfortunately taken the blow to the back of his head, lost consciousness and collapsed. Maximian couldn’t have anticipated this outcome. Yet he showed no sign of panic and shouted.
“He was trying to escape, so what choice did I have!”
“Then who’s supposed to guide us out!”
“We can just wake him back up!”
To start with arguing the moment they met—this was certainly no ordinary encounter.
“You’re in worse shape than when you were Trivia’s nephew!”
“It’s Trivia!”
Maximian, having inadvertently shouted something pointless, immediately took action to make up for his slip of the tongue.
He found a prop box, pulled out some cloth of unknown purpose from inside, tore it into strips, and bound the man’s hands. Next, he picked up a remaining bottle of alcohol nearby, pulled the man’s eyelids open, and poured it in. The alcohol seeped into the man’s eyes, causing intense pain, and he jolted awake with a scream.
“Come on, quickly now, show us the way out!”
“That’s quite a rough method.”
Rough as it was, it proved effective. Riche took the rope binding the man’s wrists and the stick—or rather, the mop handle—and poked the man’s back repeatedly, her eyes conveying a silent threat.
Meanwhile, Maximian hauled the person he’d wrapped in his coat onto his shoulder, struggling to lift them up. Riche looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“Why are you carrying that?”
“That? Don’t you see this is a person?”
Riche glanced at the person with an uncertain expression and spoke.
“You thought I was a corpse?”
Maximian’s expression turned bewildered.
“I thought you’d just swung that wooden club around trying to save someone. Wasn’t that what happened?”
“With all this chaos, instead of running around in a panic like everyone else, there’s someone trying to set fire to people. I made a poor judgment thinking that person would know the way out, didn’t I?”
“…Fine. Let’s just get out of here quickly.”
The man whom Riche had jabbed repeatedly in the back with her mop handle pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the side door. At that moment, another figure emerged from the Stage.
“Take me with you!”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Month Books
The copyright to this book belongs to the author and 14 Month Books.
To reuse all or part of the contents of this book, written consent from both parties is required.

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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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