Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 303

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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 73.
Finding the Cat in the Hearth (22)
Then, a candle was lit.
Maximian and Joshua sat facing each other on their respective beds. The lit candelabra rested on a round table some distance away, beyond the reach of either of their hands.
Maximian opened his mouth. His voice had grown sharp and metallic, stiffened with tension.
“A moment ago… something touched my shoulder. It wasn’t you. Absolutely not.”
Joshua replied with an awkward expression.
“Of course it wasn’t me.”
“Then who was it!”
Maximian wasn’t trembling with fear or breaking into a cold sweat, but his cheeks had certainly gone pale. It was the first time I’d seen him so startled. He fumbled for his glasses on the bedside table, his hand slipping several times.
“The person I mentioned earlier. The one I said I’d introduce.”
“A person? Where is he?”
“To tell you the truth…”
Then, not Joshua’s voice, but that of a Mysterious Man rang out.
「Not a person, I’m afraid.」
For about a minute afterward, the surroundings fell so silent that even the sound of swallowing could be heard. Neither of them moved, yet they weren’t looking at each other. Maximian soon found where Joshua’s gaze was directed. Beside the table with the candelabra—something was there.
More precisely, something should have been there. Even with his glasses on, he couldn’t see even a faint shadow.
“Max, I…”
When Joshua tried to speak again, Maximian cut him off, his voice dropping low but clearly irritated as he addressed the empty air.
“The phenomenon of not being visible can be interpreted in many ways, but if you’re doing it on purpose, there’s no fun in it at all, so stop playing games. You want an introduction? Introductions are made face to face. Even if you do have a face like rotten radish.”
Then, from the very direction Maximian had identified, the voice from before sounded again.
「I apologize, but I have no way of showing you my face. I have no face, you see. Yet courtesy remains unchanged even as time passes. That alone brings me joy.」
The voice was composed as if speaking from the depths of the sea, with a subtle cadence to it. There was no trace of the false composure of someone trying to craft a joke amusingly.
Judging an opponent without a face was exponentially more difficult. Yet Maximian at least gained the impression that the other party hadn’t appeared to mock him or harbor ill intent.
But the truth remained unknown. Above all, one could not trust an opponent whose face one couldn’t even see.
Then Joshua spoke.
“His name is Kelsniti Meed. I’ve been trying to think of a more graceful way to introduce him, but I couldn’t come up with anything better. He’s… a dead man. Since he has no physical body, there’s no way for human eyes to see him.”
Joshua went to Maximian’s side and sat on his bed. Only then did I feel how much restraint my friend had exercised. Maximian was a realist to his very bones. He had no interest in things he couldn’t see or touch. The shock he must have felt upon suddenly sensing the presence of a ghost was immeasurable. Anyone would be seized by terror upon learning an invisible spirit was beside them, but since Joshua’s own circumstances were different, he hadn’t been able to anticipate this situation specifically.
Maximian stared at the empty space before him without even glancing at Joshua sitting beside him, and eventually spoke curtly.
“Earn back my trust quickly.”
Joshua understood what that meant. He rose from his seat and pulled chairs to both sides of the round table. Then he took out a small book he’d brought from the Villa in his pocket and found a page with plenty of blank space. Finally, he retrieved ink and a pen from the drawer and gestured to Maximian.
“Come sit here.”
Maximian’s expression didn’t soften, but he moved to the table and took one of the empty chairs. Joshua opened the book and placed the pen between the pages. Then he spoke softly toward the chair across from him.
“Kels, don’t speak. Greet us in writing instead.”
Whoosh…
Maximian watched without blinking as the pen slowly flew into the air, dipped into the ink, and an invisible force pressed down on the book’s page like an unseen hand. Soon the pen scraped across the paper, drawing a black trajectory.
Pleased to meet you.
Maximian replied without mercy.
“I’m not pleased.”
The pen hesitated briefly before sliding again. Maximian stared intently at the pen’s tip and noticed that the letters overall leaned to the left. The other party, assuming there was one, appeared to be left-handed.
I understand. The dead are only welcome in dreams, after all.
“I appreciate your understanding, truly. But I’m a fellow with a dried-up mind and not a shred of imagination, so I can’t bring myself to believe in your existence based on a few scrawled characters. Con artists and fraudulent fortune tellers play with something called a spirit board—a stone tablet where a pen writes by itself. I find such tricks absolutely ridiculous. If this fellow weren’t my friend, I would have stormed out long ago.”
Joshua stood beside me but said nothing. The pen moved again. This time, the message was longer.
All living people are the same. Those who weep at gravesides would never wish to imagine their dead rising from their coffins and walking away. Yet I have spent five years with your friend. You may conclude that his mind has deteriorated. But you cannot deny this: you hear my voice with your own ears, and you see my writing with your own eyes. And….
Maximian watched clearly as the book’s margins ran out, the pages turning of their own accord to find a fresh blank sheet.
…though I remain invisible to you, your friend sees me perfectly.
Maximian glanced up at Joshua. Joshua answered.
“Yes.”
Silence fell once more.
Maximian lowered his head in thought, then suddenly thrust out his hand and snatched the book away. As he did, the book felt distinctly as though it had been held in someone’s grasp before slipping free. Simultaneously, the pen flew through the air and landed neatly upon the table.
Maximian found the final blank page in the book and opened it, then fearlessly seized the pen the Ghost had been writing with and extended it to Joshua.
“For you, this should be simple. Draw what you see, exactly as you see it.”
Joshua took the pen and bent over the page, pressing it down. After sketching a few outline strokes, the details filled in rapidly.
Maximian observed with a cynical gaze, yet watching someone’s likeness materialize from merely a dozen lines—someone who seemed genuinely real—stirred something strange within me. Then understanding dawned. How could my friend’s existence be any less mysterious than the bizarre situation I now faced? His existence too was something no one who hadn’t encountered him directly could accept merely from hearsay. Who would believe in Demonic beings, creatures beyond human classification, simply from rumors?
I myself, who had witnessed Joshua the Demonic for years, found it absurd that I didn’t believe in miracles….
Joshua set down the pen.
“Done.”
The man in the drawing wore antiquated black robes like those of Monks. His hair was quite long and sharp-featured, yet his eyes held a gentle quality. He tilted his head slightly, one hand raised to stroke his chin in a gesture so natural it seemed habitual. A man in his thirties, appearing to be a curious scholar.
He looked no different from a living person.
While Maximian gazed at the drawing in contemplation, the pen Joshua had set down rose into the air again. It wrote the following words beside the portrait.
It is sorrowful to be distrusted.
“….”
This time, Maximian too did not answer quickly. It was unclear whether the writer was asking to be trusted or asking me to trust Joshua, but either way, it was an indirect rebuke and a demand—one that felt too delicate to answer carelessly. In other words, refusing to accept these words now meant the negotiation had failed.
“Explain your existence. Living people carry histories as vast as kingdoms. Since you lived and then died, you must carry even more. As I said, I’m not inclined to believe in things I cannot see. Write it in words or speak it aloud—either way is fine. Convince me that you are ‘real.'”
The pen hesitated in mid-air for a moment, as if uncertain. Then it slowly descended.
「If you find no discomfort in hearing my voice, I would prefer to speak. It is not common for the dead to possess a voice, so it seems best to make full use of it.」
Joshua’s initial decision to communicate through writing rather than speech had been wise. Even now, with the Ghost’s presence somewhat more tangible, a voice emanating from empty air carried an uncanny quality regardless of tone or content. Still, I resolved that I would have to grow accustomed to it.
Even so, a kind response did not come immediately.
“Your voice sounds like a specter luring a living person into the grave—far too unsettling.”
「I see. That likely stems from what I did in life. I was a Priest who tended to people’s souls. It was centuries ago, but I have not forgotten that calling even now.」
Maximian raised one eyebrow.
“Centuries? What era are you talking about?”
After a brief pause, the voice answered with a thin note of vitality.
「The age of the first Duke Arnim. I was a friend to Icabon von Arnim, the Family Clan’s first Demonic.」
Maximian glanced at Joshua, who stood with arms crossed gazing at the ceiling, then deliberately spoke with mischievous intent.
“The more I hear, the more horrifying this becomes.”
「Is that so? You are also a difficult person to deal with.」
Maximian let out a small laugh and then spread both arms wide toward the empty chair in a gesture of welcome.
“Now you’re finally speaking like a human being.”
「If such things are necessary, I can provide them readily. As I said, I died long ago. But it seems not all the dead become like me. I have dwelt in Jade Ring Castle for centuries, witnessing much, yet Joshua is the first person I have truly conversed with. From the beginning, he recognized me clearly.」
Children of Runes – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: Books of the Fourteenth Month
The copyright of this book belongs to the author and Books of the Fourteenth Month.
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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