Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 293

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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 60.
Finding the Cat in the Furnace (12)
“How much alcohol does one have to consume to reek like this…?”
The Doctor wrinkled his nose and covered it the moment he stepped inside. He had rushed here upon hearing there was a critical patient, yet his expression suggested he’d been summoned merely to clean up after a drunkard.
“He didn’t collapse from drinking, so perhaps you could examine him anyway.”
“Then he drank after collapsing?”
Under ordinary circumstances, Maximian would have volleyed back with an even sharper quip, but he replied without unfolding his crossed arms.
“This is no time for jesting. Please examine him quickly and tell me what’s wrong.”
Joshua lay on the bed burning with fever like a plague victim. His face had transcended mere pallor to take on a bluish tinge, and his lips were parched like those of a corpse—so dry that repeated dampening with cloth proved futile.
The Doctor soon realized Joshua had not consumed alcohol at all. The overwhelming stench came only from the potent spirits splashed across his entire body.
The Manager of the Corali Restaurant where Riche worked owned a small Watch Shop on the floor below his residence, which he entrusted to his younger sister. A cramped side room there served as a makeshift storage space.
Though they had arrived abruptly in the dead of night, their explanation that a patient had been injured in the fire at the Theater Company was readily accepted. Fortunately, Riche’s frequent errands had allowed her to become acquainted with both the Manager and his wife. The wife, concerned for the patient, had summoned the Doctor and personally tidied the room. Yet they could find no means to bathe the patient in such a place in the middle of the night.
As the Doctor leaned in to examine Joshua, he involuntarily let out a soft groan.
His hollow cheeks and eyelids were so thin they seemed ready to tear like paper at the slightest touch. Rather than beautiful, his appearance was unsettling—like a corpse brought back to life—so much so that the Doctor held his finger beneath Joshua’s nose to verify he was breathing. Yet his respiration remained steady, and his pulse only slightly elevated.
After examining his eyelids and taking his temperature, the Doctor withdrew his bloodletting instrument and drew a small amount of blood. No notably dark blood emerged. After palpating various parts of his body, the Doctor furrowed his brow and questioned Maximian.
“Is he a friend of yours? A brother perhaps? Where is his guardian?”
“There is no guardian. Simply consider me his guardian for now.”
His tone was unusually grave. Had any of those who knew Maximian well—his younger siblings or Hispania, for instance—heard such a voice from him, they would have been quite astonished.
“Tell me first what happened to him.”
“He nearly died.”
He answered reflexively in his usual manner, but immediately recognizing this explanation was insufficient, he added an elaboration that seemed uncharacteristic of his typical speech.
“I suspect something heavy fell on him from above and struck him. I didn’t witness it directly, so I can’t be certain, but in any case, he’s been unconscious for nearly two hours.”
“That alone tells me nothing. There’s no wound on his head. No swelling either. No fractures or breaks anywhere. I cannot fathom why he remains unconscious for so long, nor why he has this fever. Did he suffer from any chronic illness?”
“I wouldn’t know about that….”
Maximian seemed to have considered some possibility in his mind, but he quickly dismissed it and continued.
“I don’t know.”
“Beyond cooling the fever, there’s nothing I can do at present. Though this is merely conjecture….”
The Doctor gazed upward at the ceiling, deliberating on how to phrase his words.
“His entire body lacks vital force. A person whose spirit has departed… yes, like someone possessed by a ghost—not the unconsciousness itself, but like someone truly possessed by a spirit.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The Doctor shook his head vigorously and rose to his feet.
“There’s no remedy. I have no medicine to give. Simply continue cooling his fever. It doesn’t appear to worsen immediately, so I’ll return tomorrow morning. But if there’s no improvement by then, you’ll need to take him to a doctor in Sword-la-Chapel.”
Maximian did not cling to the Doctor or press him with questions as typical guardians might. After the Doctor departed, Maximian sat beside the bed and gazed intently at Joshua’s face.
Even in such circumstances, Maximian’s face betrayed almost no emotion. At first glance, his eyes seemed to regard a complete stranger. Yet he remained silent, his expression unchanging. His gaze never wavered.
Outside, rain had begun to fall moments earlier. It was not heavy, but it would have aided in extinguishing the fire at the Theater Company. For a long while, only the sound of rain pattering against the window frame echoed through the room.
A window with a broken latch swung open of its own accord, letting in the rain. Riche awoke and carefully closed it. Just before shutting it, she glimpsed the dark street outside, where raindrops scattered like white blossoms. Around 2 in the morning, not a soul passed by.
After staring down at Joshua’s face for a long time, Maximian suddenly spoke.
“Let’s exchange names.”
“Names?”
Only then did Riche realize they had never asked each other’s names until now. She replied with a bewildered expression.
“Just call me Riche. My full name is rather long.”
“Maximian Lipkne.”
“Those three women calling themselves something-or-other are fakes, aren’t they?”
“Then they must be genuine.”
“Is that person a friend?”
“Ah, well.”
Maximian was unusually taciturn that evening—a state so contrary to his nature that it was difficult to imagine. Riche rose and wandered about the room, pausing several times to gaze toward the bed with a puzzled tilt of her head. Then, abruptly, she slipped out through the door and returned moments later with a concave wooden plate in hand, filled with hard, biscuit-like confections.
“I’m hungry. Let’s eat these.”
Truth be told, neither of them had managed dinner. They’d arrived at such a late hour that even the Manager and his wife hadn’t thought to offer a meal. And they themselves lacked the audacity to make such a request.
Maximian reached out wordlessly and popped a biscuit into his mouth. Riche took a few as well. For a time, there was nothing but the crisp, crunching sound of chewing.
“Are they edible?”
“Mm.”
“Well, that’s fortunate then.”
Riche selected another biscuit, placed it in her mouth, and murmured.
“Dog food, though.”
“….”
His hand froze for the briefest moment, and their eyes met. But Maximian simply finished chewing what was in his mouth, swallowed, and muttered with a frown.
“So what? Dog food or otherwise, it’s no different from any other biscuit.”
Riche shrugged one shoulder and reached for another piece with her fingers.
“I’m glad you’re not a picky eater. But what about that person over there—isn’t he hungry?”
Maximian glanced toward the bed.
“If he woke up, I doubt he’d eat dog food.”
“Is his palate refined?”
“Perhaps. His origins are noble.”
Whether biscuit or dog food, they finished it all. After clearing the plate, Riche settled onto the bed’s edge and spoke.
“Now tell me—what is all this about?”
Maximian struggled for some time, working at a piece of biscuit—or rather, dog food—lodged between his teeth without using his hands. Once he’d managed it, he removed his spectacles, rubbed his bloodshot eyes several times, and finally spoke.
“Since we’ve ended up on the same ship through no intention of our own, we’ll need to share whatever information we possess. Ask first—I have questions for you as well.”
Riche, as if she’d been waiting for this moment, asked directly.
“Who exactly is that person who may have set fire to the Theater, may have tried to kill you, and may even try to kill me?”
“I don’t know.”
Riche’s words caught in her throat, and bewilderment crossed her face.
“You don’t know? Then where’s your evidence that what you’re claiming is true?”
“What are the odds that a perfectly sound Theater’s ceiling would collapse and catch fire simultaneously on the day when the most people had gathered?”
“How should I know? There are people struck by lightning twice in a single day. How can anyone predict what might happen in this world?”
“Then what about the man who guided us out of the Theater? Didn’t you shout at him, ‘You set the fire!'”
“But he might have set it for some other purpose, mightn’t he?”
“Another purpose? Yet he was holding onto that fellow the whole time?”
“Well, that’s….”
Riche rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, but this time she conceded the point.
“Fine. Let’s say you’re right. But you don’t know who this person is either, do you? So what are we supposed to do to avoid them? We can’t hide forever, can we? Besides, this might be your friend’s problem, but frankly, it has nothing to do with me. Why should I suffer such an inconvenience because of some stranger?”
“Whether it concerns you or not isn’t the point. Do you think anyone chooses to face trouble? Whoever this person is, they’re the type who would burn down an entire theater just to secretly kill one person. It’s only a guess, but they could easily kill someone like you and silence you without breaking a sweat.”
At those words, Riche bristled and shot up from her chair.
“Did you just say I’d die? And not even because of my own fault, but because I happened to learn a little about something connected to Cardi? Why… why do I have to become an extra in a play where that person is the lead?”
When Maximian didn’t answer, her voice rose higher.
“Why is this unknown person so desperate to kill Cardi anyway? No, I don’t even need to know that. Why did I get dragged into this mess in the first place? I’m someone with only one plan—to quietly earn money and spend my later years in comfort. Why should I die because of someone I don’t even know? Should I abandon my entire life and go hide in the mountains? It’s all complete nonsense!”
Maximian glanced up at Riche as she stood, then sighed and scratched the back of his head. But his expression showed neither distress nor apology.
“Think carefully about what you did at the theater. You know you’re not in a position to raise your voice at me.”
“I…”
Riche flinched and fell silent. It was true—before Maximian even appeared, she had been the one to strike and threaten that mysterious man first. As a result, she had saved the person lying there, though she’d thought he was a corpse at the time, so it wasn’t intentional… but regardless, getting entangled in this incident was indeed the consequence of her own actions. Letting that man slip away wasn’t anyone else’s responsibility.
As Riche remained speechless, Maximian finally turned away from the bed and sat up. In other words, he was preparing to say something.
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Moon Books
The copyright of this book belongs to the author and 14 Moon Books.
To reuse all or part of this book’s content, 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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