Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 307

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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 77.
Finding the Cat in the Furnace (26)
I waited as if expecting an answer from the invisible Kelsniti, but soon my brow furrowed and I rose abruptly from my seat.
“Damn, I’m being paranoid.”
I got up, hastily adjusted my clothes, and made my way downstairs with quiet steps. The house was so silent that, as a guest taking an afternoon nap, I naturally kept my footfalls soft. As I crossed the living room, I heard Joshua’s voice coming from the direction of the Dining Hall.
“That’s right. The poems from Lugran have such an archaic quality from their very structure that they’re quite selective compared to continental-style poetry. But since rhyming is so standardized, there’s real enjoyment in composing melodies for them. I’ve even composed a few tunes myself for amusement. I’m quite fond of the longer poetic pieces that came down from Ganapoli, like ‘Elvira the Seamstress’ or ‘The Song of the Heavenly Sea Route.'”
As Maximian, I couldn’t understand and had no interest in what was being said with such cheerful enthusiasm. I was wondering if the listener was Kelsniti when an unfamiliar voice reached my ears.
“‘The Song of the Heavenly Sea Route’ is also something I favor. The couplets are remarkably harmonious. I myself attempted to compose a melody for it, but I suspect you’ve done it far better.”
Though the tone seemed bright, it was actually dry and colorless. More than that, the very fact that someone unknown was here with Joshua in this moment stirred my instincts sharply. Only Caesar lived in this house, and he seemed far removed from such refined hobbies as poetry, so it seemed unlikely any of his neighbors would share such interests either. Even if this were Caesar’s friend by some chance, why would Caesar be left in the Courtyard while this person spoke alone with Joshua?
“Ah, so you’ve tried as well? How about we teach each other? I’m quite curious.”
“I never finished it completely. The first verse goes like this…”
A slow melody drifted out. Though not comparable to Joshua, it was quite well sung for an ordinary person.
From your golden hair comes the scent of wind
Not earth, not water, but the scent of wind
Whispering like a dove in the lowlands
Wind that soars like a hawk from the heights
Then Joshua immediately continued the verse.
When moon fades and stars set in the murky night
Beneath my feet, thousands of layers of wind I tread
Where heaven and earth meet, to the world’s very end
A sailor of the heavenly sea route I am
“Excellent. Truly magnificent.”
The tone was sincere, yet strangely cold, and standing outside the door listening, I felt my brow furrow deeper.
“Your composition was also quite respectable. It had a certain flatness to it, I’ll admit, but still well above ordinary.”
Joshua, who never spoke falsehoods, offered this assessment, and the Masked Man laughed.
“That would be so. I have no talent in that direction, after all. I love art, but my approach differs somewhat from yours. We’re not entirely dissimilar, and well, perhaps that too could be called a form of art.”
“What sort of art is yours?”
The man didn’t answer immediately and instead adjusted the edge of his mask. Watching this, Joshua thought to himself, ‘This person might actually have a facial scar.’
“It’s a pity. I do enjoy talented friends like yourself. Especially those who accomplish what I cannot. I’ve never once felt jealousy. Seeing intelligent people actually makes me feel good. But it can’t be helped. Still, it’s a shame.”
Even hearing such a direct threat—one that made me unconsciously clench my lips—Joshua responded carelessly, as if lost in other thoughts.
“A shame? What do you mean?”
I glanced around. The situation was too urgent to seek help elsewhere. Rushing in recklessly was even worse. Then my eyes fell upon a silver mirror hanging on the wall. I didn’t know why such an expensive mirror hung in this person’s home, but I removed it anyway.
“I once knew an actress. She was beautiful, and her singing and acting were passable. But her character was terrible. It seems not everything can be given to one person.”
Joshua smiled faintly as he spoke.
“I also know one such actress. But she wasn’t evil, merely prone to irritability.”
“Well, even irritability can be unbearable depending on the person. The woman I spoke of believed she’d never committed a sin in her entire life. But everyone commits some degree of sin in living.”
At those words, Joshua, who had been maintaining his excellent composure, faltered for a moment. But he quickly assumed his usual tone and spoke.
“Such things are hardly great sins, are they?”
“I just said it depends on the person. What’s a small sin to one might be a sin worthy of death to another.”
The mirror rotated slowly. As I carefully adjusted the angle, the unfamiliar man’s back finally came into view. A sturdy build, black clothing, light blonde hair. And when he turned his face slightly, I saw the same mask Joshua wore reflected in the glass.
“I don’t believe anyone has the right to judge another’s sins by their own standards.”
“Everyone has their own criteria for guilt and innocence. If you can’t follow your own standards, why would you follow someone else’s?”
“The only person who should be allowed to judge by their own standards is themselves.”
“Many can’t even judge themselves. That’s why we need judges—for those who can’t make their own decisions.”
“Are you saying you’re the judge? Then who judges your sins?”
In the mirror’s reflection, the man lifted a hand that had been hidden beneath the table—a massive, unsettling hand. After running his fingers across it once, he slowly drew on gloves that seemed tailored to fit. Then, lifting the corners of his mouth, he smiled. Watching this, Joshua realized the man hadn’t been hiding behind the mask all along—he truly only moved his mouth when he smiled.
“Our conversation has been quite enjoyable.”
Joshua traced the outline of the mask that once covered his face with his index finger, then spoke boldly.
“Are you planning to treat me like that apple?”
“Are you going to claim you’re innocent too? Like that actress?”
For approximately five seconds, a tense silence hung in the air.
It was then that Maximian walked through the open entrance. He gestured a greeting to Joshua, then looked at the Masked Man with apparent surprise.
“Oh my. A masked gentleman, I see.”
“….”
No further response came. The man rose like a shadow and was suddenly across the table. Joshua’s neck was seized in the gloved right hand without any resistance. Joshua lost consciousness in an instant, his neck bent at a sickening angle. This was the moment—with that same hand that had crushed the apple, just a slight twist would end everything.
Remarkably, Maximian spoke without a trace of panic.
“I didn’t realize you were petty enough to take hostages.”
The man’s eyebrows twitched subtly.
“A hostage? My target was him from the beginning.”
“Either you’re lying or you don’t know something. Is killing Joshua all there is to it? Then why did you kill the actress?”
Maximian spoke boldly, taking another step forward. While he had no concrete evidence, his deduction suggested there was virtually no chance Muchia Benevento was still alive. Moreover, the likelihood that the man who came to eliminate Joshua was the one who killed her was extremely high.
But the real gamble was something more. Maximian was essentially asking whether the man wouldn’t also need to kill not just Joshua, but the witnesses—including himself.
The man replied calmly.
“Of course. After I’ve satisfactorily disposed of Arnim Duke, I was planning to deal with you too. You must be Maximian Lipkne.”
He knew even the name, as expected. Yet Maximian adjusted his glasses and smiled coldly.
“How honored I am that you’d bother learning the name of such a trivial victim. I thought if I were to die, I’d fall to some inexperienced brat wildly swinging a sword they don’t even know how to use. I never dreamed I’d face an expert with a name among the continent’s strongest. Should I say I’m somewhat moved?”
At that, the man suddenly let out a short laugh.
As he spoke, Maximian observed his opponent carefully. There was no sense of a predator stalking its prey. Even though he held Joshua’s neck as casually as a friend might, even appearing full of openings, there was an unmistakable feeling that any careless move would mean the end—the instinctive sense of danger all herbivores possess. The man showed no wariness toward Maximian because he clearly understood they weren’t even in the same league.
Against such an opponent, one must appear all the more confident. Only then could he slow the man’s actions and buy even a moment of time.
The man, his laughter fading, spoke.
“You don’t actually think you can survive by spouting such words, do you?”
“Living and dying are your domain. I’m simply saying what I wish to say.”
“What made you deduce that I’m an expert?”
Maximian even managed a rather composed smile.
“I recognized it at a glance. Perhaps I fall short compared to those famous powerhouses of the continent, but I’m certain of one thing—you’ve reached a level ordinary people can’t even imagine.”
He cast the bait carefully. But the man didn’t bite immediately, instead chuckling.
“You’re quite cunning with your words. But there’s nothing particularly moving about it. The continent’s strongest? Are you talking about those rumors floating around? That’s just the sort of gossip children swinging wooden swords outside enjoy. Do you really think the names of truly strong individuals would be on the lips of children? Such people are satisfied without their names being known.”
Maximian’s expression grew suspicious.
“Kangpir Marquis of Anomarad, Princess Jinapa of Lemme, Durgana, the mercenary captain of Bronze Lightning—their names circulate because their abilities are so widely recognized that even children know them. Wouldn’t the claim that there are those stronger than these simply be something mediocre people tell each other to feel better?”
“I once thought the same way you do.”
The man who spoke those words embraced the slumped Joshua as if to steady him, then settled back into the chair before the table. In other words, he had adopted a posture conducive to conversation. This was a transformation even Maximian had not anticipated.
Children of the Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: Books of the Fourteenth Month
The copyright to 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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