Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 312
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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 82.
Finding the Cat in the Hearth (31)
“….”
While Maximian sat speechless, Riche, who had been sitting beside them, opened her mouth.
“When I’m sewing, sometimes I come to my senses and realize I’ve drawn blood from my fingertips. As you can see, my fingers have been trained by needlework long ago, so wounds rarely appear. When I think about why I did that, the only conclusion I can reach is that I lost focus for a moment. And I don’t think that’s something that happens only to me.”
“The problem is whether such mental lapses are forgiven when it’s a matter of life and death.”
Maximian looked at Riche, then gestured with his chin toward Joshua again.
“If you can view yourself as such a target, others can too. Who hasn’t done something reckless in a moment of madness? I’ve done plenty of absurd things while drunk. But I’ve never spilled water I couldn’t pick back up. I never intended to.”
“But in this case, the result was the opposite. Isn’t it because Joshua did that, that man accepted it and left?”
“Whether that man leaves or not isn’t the issue. The problem is that mad mentality of casually accepting your own death! I can’t leave you in such a state!”
“Maximian.”
After a long silence, Joshua spoke.
“I wasn’t normal when I first met you either. But back then, you just called me a notepad or an abacus. No, don’t say it’s because it’s a matter of life and death. If I’ve changed, then you’ve changed too. I can only dimly guess how you’ve lived, but there’s one thing I know for certain. You’re not as lenient now as you were then.”
“Does this look like such a problem to you…?”
At the word “not lenient,” Maximian’s eyebrows rose sharply.
“Why don’t you just say you had no thoughts back then? Better yet, say you didn’t worry about me then, so you didn’t care. I know well what state you’re in. This happened because you’ve been alone and couldn’t pull yourself together.”
“No, you don’t know what state I’m in.”
Finally, indignation appeared on Joshua’s face.
“Can other people understand how terrible a Demonic state is? Do you know what it’s like to have every conversation you had during the day automatically replay while you’re trying to sleep? Do you understand the state of picking up a pen to doodle, only to find yourself drawing the most complex arabesque you’ve ever seen before, identically? Do you know the feeling of thinking of a few numbers, unconsciously multiplying and adding them to create a monstrous number with dozens of digits, unable to stop, and banging your head against the wall trying to think of something else? It’s been years since I last saw it, but I can still remember every pattern carved into the railings of the Jade Ring Castle’s staircase with perfect accuracy. Just as with that, tens of thousands of things that happened to me constantly swirl in my head as if I experienced them just yesterday. Pain, despair, shame—all of it vivid and clear as if I just endured it. What would you do? Tell me how you could possibly maintain a sound mind in such a state!”
It was not Maximian who spoke in response to those words, but Riche. And her tone was deeply flustered.
“What you just said… I don’t understand what you mean. Is all of that true? Is that what a genius really is…?”
Riche had heard Joshua called a genius or Demonic several times before, but had dismissed it as mere rhetoric, never imagining it could mean something like this. Yet at the same time, she remembered what people had said about Max Cardi. Singing, composing, songwriting, playwriting, instrumental performance, acting, dancing—considering the time it takes to do all of these perfectly, even forty years would be insufficient for Max Cardi’s age. That’s what people said. Genius, miracle, monster—all words that followed in Cardi’s wake.
Piercing through her thoughts came Joshua’s voice, tinged with derision. But the derision was directed at himself, not at Riche.
“You find me terrible too, don’t you?”
“Listen here, Joshua.”
While Riche struggled to respond, Maximian spoke, suppressing his anger.
“Stop acting spoiled even toward people who have nothing to do with this. You’re like a child bragging about your scars. Let’s say you have pain as a Demonic. Then do I seem like I’ve lived a comfortable life without any hardship?”
Maximian’s voice also seemed tinged with barely contained heat.
“My mother’s memory is already faint, and my father never gave us a single coin after he left home. I have six siblings, and I raised a baby who needed wet nursing. I started taking responsibility for my family’s livelihood at eight years old. At least I was eight, but my younger siblings, who were far too young, nearly died several times after that. What do you expect from an eight-year-old caring for them? The times when your wandering Grandfather helped were like special episodes in my life. How do you think I’ve lived until now? I know the taste of every weed and piece of bark that grows in Kotzboldt.”
Joshua was seen biting his lips in silence. But Maximian did not stop.
“Yes, Demonic, it must be painful. You’ve had difficult times too. But you’ve maintained a life where travel rations are hard to eat because they don’t suit your palate. That may be natural to you, but to those for whom it isn’t, it’s a benefit beyond comparison to anything else. Moreover, if there were someone who desperately tried their best to sing well but failed, your talent is something they’d want even if they had to sell their soul. Even with all this, do you still seem cursed? Do you seem so unlucky that even madness would be forgiven?”
“Stop.”
Joshua raised his hand to cover his head. Maximian abruptly turned away to gaze at the campfire.
After a moment, Riche spoke.
“I… think that’s enough for today. I understand now that there’s so much I need to know to understand you both. Right now, I’m simply bewildered, like someone who’s read a curious storybook. That’s probably because your story doesn’t feel like my problem. I don’t know if you have the heart to tell me more stories, but I’ll say this much—I don’t understand with just this. That means we’re not friends yet.”
Riche walked between them and completely stamped out the campfire. Then, standing in that spot, she turned back and spoke.
“But there’s one thing I want to ask.”
Since Riche directed her gaze toward Maximian, he also lifted his head.
“Now I think I roughly understand what kind of conversation passed between you and that man in the Dining Hall. Yes, I agree that such talk is madness. But tell me—did Joshua also talk about you or me at that time?”
Maximian frowned and asked in return.
“What?”
“That Joshua spoke so casually about killing you or me. If he’d made up his mind that day, it’s obvious he would have killed not just himself but you and me too, and certainly Miss Montplayne as well. Did Joshua speak of even those deaths as naturally as he spoke of his own?”
It took Maximian a moment for his expression to shift. When he recalled Joshua telling that man—the one who spoke of “killing multiple people”—not to become a slaughterer, only then did he feel a knot within him begin to unravel.
“You’re right. It wasn’t.”
“If I were in your position, I’d think that’s enough for now. Yes, it’s madness, but think about it honestly. There’s some logic to the idea that one can’t help but go mad in such a state, isn’t there? I don’t know much about what this Demonic thing is, but what you just said was almost unbelievable. You call him a friend. Don’t you know better than anyone whether Joshua’s explanation—that it had to be this way—is something you can accept or not?”
They watched in silence as dawn broke. Thanks to their deep sleep, their bodies had recovered somewhat. And at last, their destination was no longer far. Thin smoke rose from the extinguished campfire. Whether the words exchanged were misunderstanding or understanding remained unclear, and whether what remained would be ash or embers was still unknown.
Riche spoke.
“I should go wake Miss Montplayne.”
Joshua watched Riche’s retreating figure as she headed toward where Caesar was for a very long time, as if sensing that she possessed something he did not.
Maximian spoke in a voice only Joshua could hear.
“Have I ever said something like this to you before?”
Joshua guessed roughly what “something like this” meant and smiled silently.
“Damn it, why do I lose my mind at night? Seeing the sun rise makes me feel childish hearing myself whine like this.”
Joshua threw off the blanket and rose. He went to the opposite side of the campfire, picked up a long stick, and scattered the ashes. The sky where sparks had danced was gradually turning blue. Because of that light, even his ash-colored hair took on a bluish gleam.
“For seventeen years, the most worthy subject of observation was myself. I wanted to know who I was. But the more I thought about it, the more I doubted not only the identity of the Demonic but even whether I myself was truly human. I honestly often wished to go mad and forget all of this. Or to become like my sister…”
His words trailed off briefly.
“When I think of my sister, I wonder if I too possess such darkness. I truly felt the fear that if I stumbled, I would become like her. Looking at that, it seems I don’t want to become a complete fool knowing nothing, do I? But my sister was no simple fool. So perhaps that’s why she could become like me, and I could become like her. Because my sister was not me, she lived her entire life like an angel—virtuous and happy. She lived in a happiness I’ve never once experienced. Is that compensation? So… if I stop being Demonic, wouldn’t I become that happy too?”
Maximian shook his head.
“It’s merely delusion. Your sister was no Demonic, and if she possessed the mind of a five-year-old, such innocence would be natural. She died at her most beautiful age, so she’s remembered that way. If she’d lived to become an old woman and died spouting nonsense, your impression would be different.”
Though his words were harsh, his tone was not particularly aggressive. Yet shortly after, Maximian let out a short sigh and spoke.
“I’m sorry. For speaking of your sister as I pleased.”
Joshua laughed bitterly.
“No. That’s just your way. Whether it’s delusion or not, I’m the one who can’t escape it.”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Months Books
The copyright to this book belongs to the author and 14 Months 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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