Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 377

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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 141.
May Your Final Performance
Be Your Greatest (22)
He stepped out of the ballroom and returned moments later carrying something wrapped in cloth. He thrust it into Joshua’s arms.
“I’ve become curious about something. I’ve lived my whole life thinking genius only existed in books, but now a living genius has appeared right before my eyes. So tell me—can you play an instrument you’ve never practiced? What about one you’ve never even seen before?”
Joshua hesitated, then unwrapped the cloth. Looking at Giovani, he smiled sheepishly and spoke.
“This is a lyre.”
“Not just any lyre. Look more carefully.”
Joshua had certainly handled lyres before. But examining it more closely, he noticed the number of strings differed from the common lyres used across the Continent. There were ten strings in total.
Giovani stood with his arms crossed, tapping his fingers rhythmically.
“As you can see, it’s not some common five-string or seven-string instrument. It wasn’t made yesterday or today, but I understand it’s not used anywhere except Lugran. Is this truly your first time seeing one?”
It seemed an intriguing game, and soon everyone’s attention focused on the instrument. Yet for some reason, Joshua’s gaze upon the lyre held a peculiar cynicism. He placed his hand on the strings, touched a few of them, and moments later a slow melody began to flow.
“….”
Giovani watched Joshua’s fingers intently, his brow furrowed. As the performance found its rhythm, everyone gathered around Joshua. They gazed in astonishment at his skilled technique, as if he had practiced this instrument for years. The ten-string lyre was something none of them had seen before, which made it all the more remarkable.
“Truly, there’s nothing you cannot do.”
“Hantke, is that instrument really only found in Lugran? The way he’s playing it doesn’t seem like a first attempt.”
“Did you study it before, Master Craftsman?”
Neither Joshua nor Giovani answered. For a long while, not even the sound of forks against plates or chairs scraping against the floor could be heard. Shortly after, Joshua stopped playing without finishing the piece. When he looked up, the playfulness had vanished from Giovani’s eyes.
“Hispania, do you know of Joffrey Dekachordi? The famous instrument maker, composer, and performer from Lugran.”
“You mean the Joffrey of the ten-string lyre.”
How could he not know? The Joffrey of the ten-string lyre was the same person as Demonic Joffrey, Geoffrey von Arnim, whose portrait hung in Jade Ring Castle.
“Tell me honestly. Have you ever played a ten-string lyre before?”
“No.”
Joshua’s voice sounded distinctly cold. He had realized that Giovani did not know that the Lugran musician ‘Joffrey Dekachordi’ was actually ‘Geoffrey von Arnim.’ That was why he had not refused to play the ten-string lyre.
Yet hearing about Demonic Joffrey here, in this place, was not welcome. Joffrey, once known across the Continent as an outstanding instrument maker, performer, and musical genius, had been confined to Jade Ring Castle in a state of luminescence for ten years before his death.
Giovani stared intently at Joshua’s face. Then, moments later, he shook his head, sighed deeply, and placed a hand on his chest before speaking.
“I possess every score Joffrey left behind. I have ten of the ten-string lyres he crafted. Joffrey was a true genius. Lugran has a long history of protecting the arts, so it has produced many talented artists, but none were as overwhelmingly brilliant as Joffrey. I am certain of it. I have collected everything related to Joffrey. I love genius. It is a ruby embedded in an otherwise worthless stone—a being to whom God has mistakenly given far too much grace! My heart races merely thinking of him. I am no genius myself, but the mere fact that such genius existed in this world fills me with an almost maddening joy.”
“….”
Joshua could not answer immediately. Giovani’s passion for Demonic Joffrey confused him. Joshua, who had always despised even thinking about the Demonic ones of his Family Clan, did not know how long Joffrey had spent in Lugran or what he had accomplished there. He had never gazed upon the portrait hanging in the gallery corridor with any particular emotion.
In truth, Joshua did not wish to look closely at the portraits of the Demonic ones hanging in the gallery. He feared that he might discover some resemblance to himself in them—and Joshua would certainly notice it immediately—so driven by this instinctive wariness, he had walked past them without conscious awareness, his gaze averted.
Giovani’s existence was curious, but it also brought a strange question. Since this man loved genius, would Demonic Joshua also be loved in such a way after his death?
Then Joshua noticed a small, flat silver case in Giovani’s front shirt pocket—one he had seen frequently before. Without thinking, he reached out and took it. Giovani started in surprise as Joshua opened the case and removed the small black object inside, placing it on his fingertip before putting it in his mouth.
“….”
Giovani watched as Joshua’s lips curved slightly upward in a smile. As he retrieved the silver case and returned it to his pocket, Giovani’s cheeks twitched slightly. He could not help but ask.
“Are you alright? It’s genuinely bitter.”
“Not at all.”
Joshua rose from his seat. He bade farewell to the others and, letting the bitter candy dissolve on his tongue, left the ballroom.
The others thought nothing strange of the lead actor Joshua retiring early to rest before tomorrow’s performance. However, Giovani tapped the candy case in his pocket thoughtfully, tilting his head in contemplation. This silver case was one of Joffrey’s possessions that he had acquired. He carried bitter candies inside it as Joffrey had done, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never quite enjoy them.
He heard Strauss and Mrs. Molte conversing beside him.
“By the way, have you seen Olfranje?”
“Did he come here?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think I saw him.”
Mrs. Molte tilted her head in thought, then glanced around the room.
“Now that I think about it, I don’t see Olfranje either. I could have sworn she was here a moment ago.”
My heart burns as though consumed by flame. I cannot even feel the darkness surrounding me. I do not know what my feet tread upon, what nearly trips me. I simply walk, trampling dust and debris indiscriminately—as though being led deeper into the darkest tunnel within my own soul. If I could go further, I would. Deeper still.
I am a man of failure. I believed myself gifted, yet everything I touched crumbled to ruin. Sometimes I invited it upon myself. Past failures bred hunger for success, and that hunger made me anxious over trivial mistakes, impatient, angry, stubborn, harsh in speech. People left me, or I left them. Ah, but these are common tales. Those who know only success are rare indeed, yet those who know only failure are found everywhere without difficulty. How cruelly the world’s scales tip downward. The fruits of heaven go to others, while people like me are left to dwell in the underground darkness.
What does it matter if such a man walks through the underground? An underground creature simply walks underground.
Those damned celestial beings drive me to madness. I did not wish to hate them from the start. It would have been better never to encounter them. Better never to hear their gleaming tongues mock me. They share nothing of their own, these creatures so drunk on arrogance they do not even know the underground exists.
But what is harder to bear is the gift they were born with. Why are they beautiful? Why do they possess angelic faces and radiant talent? Why do they create beauty so dazzling that even the underground races are entranced? Why are they loved by all, why do they succeed? That success, the fervor of crowds, the cauldron of cheers, the city’s delirium!
The stage glitters, but beneath it lies no beauty. Like a swan’s feet thrashing beneath the surface. I continue walking toward a place the celestial races will never descend to.
I thought I did not know why I asked to be led there, but a whisper echoed from some corner of my heart: “Don’t you really know?” I denied it, then admitted it, caught in confusion. Yet I did not stop walking. Sometimes I felt a pain that squeezed my heart. Sometimes my mouth filled with the taste of blood. But caught in the grip of the one who placed a serpent’s tongue in my ear—caught, truly, in my own grip—I continued walking.
I believed that even as a failure, I had not lost my character, that the vile desire to wish another’s ruin was not my own. But that was before meeting the celestial beings, before they shattered even the smallest surface of self-deception.
I wished for destruction to occur where I could not see it. I wanted to witness it without dirtying my hands. I wanted to become a spectator of tragedy, erasing even guilt, telling myself it was only the result of childish naïveté, that I never meant for it to come to this.
Behind me, several paces back, the sound of footsteps followed Bin Olfranje without ceasing. Thud, thud, unbroken.
2. May Your Final Performance Be Your Greatest
To your performance I send roses,
a dancing music box,
white gloves,
and within them, the hand
of one you love. I pray you find joy in them.
The Dressing Room was empty. Upon a long bench lay only a single glove and a scarf, left behind by someone. The flower baskets, wreaths, and gifts that had filled this space moments before had all been cleared away at Etern’s command. The floor was clean, scattered only with a few fallen petals and ribbons. The table too was bare.
Maximian had arrived first. He had arranged to meet Joshua here and return together to Captain Kalaimon’s home. Since Riche, who had come back with him, said she had somewhere to go and would return shortly, Maximian sat alone on a chair and surveyed the room. Something strange immediately caught his eye.
As Maximian rose with a suspicious expression, the door opened. It was Joshua.
“Ah, Maximian, you arrived first.”
Maximian noticed Joshua’s face was slightly flushed and narrowed his eyes.
“You, of all people, drinking.”
“They kept insisting. I couldn’t refuse. It’s worn off by now, though. We should hurry home and rest.”
“But about that…”
Just as Maximian was about to speak, Joshua noticed it too. Before the vanity table. In that neat space containing only a few cosmetics, powder, a comb, and brushes, sat a large box.
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Months Publishing
The copyright to this book belongs to the author and 14 Months Publishing.
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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