Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 379

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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 146.
May Your Final Performance
Be Your Greatest (24)
“Just for that reason? He reveals himself? A professional assassin abandoning the shadows where success comes easier, throwing away concealment?”
Maximian’s eyes met Joshua’s. In the next instant, he looked away as though he’d glimpsed something too bright, too white, too searing. Simultaneously, he clenched his teeth.
“He’s overconfident. He doesn’t even believe he’s failed until now. He’s been toying with me—with us—like children chasing each other on a beach. Because he knows he can always catch up and strike me down, he’s leisurely, like a man who’s released a rabbit from its hutch. He spoke to me just now. He told me to make my final performance my greatest. And he sent me this costume. The stage garment I should have worn in the Aquarian production. While demanding I stand on stage without wavering. Of course, I could flee. Or rather, he’s saying—go ahead and flee if you dare. He gave me the choice. But he made it clear he’ll come as an audience member to watch The Wedding of Il de Morbiane. And in doing so, he’s asking me: will fear make you ruin tomorrow’s performance and run? Will you disappoint the one who encouraged you by sending the Aquarian costume? Will you abandon the stage and flee? He asked while mocking me.”
Joshua’s lips trembled faintly. As though enchanted by the stage lights and the shadows of death. The spilled perfume now saturated the room with an intoxicating fragrance, and whether because of that or something else, Riche’s head spun so dizzily she could barely keep her eyes open. As she closed them for a moment, she heard Joshua’s voice.
“So Maximian, I’m asking you. Leave here tonight with Riche. I don’t want to drag you both into this. This is my stage.”
“What?”
Maximian’s face flushed as though he’d been insulted. But Joshua paid no mind and turned to Riche instead.
“You understand, don’t you?”
Riche couldn’t respond, only squinting her eyes. Reality felt strangely distorted. Caught between reality and theater, her footing wavered like gelatin beneath her feet.
After a moment, Maximian continued.
“You mean you won’t evade—you’ll accept it? You’ll walk out on your own two feet to that place where you’re certain to face the one lying in wait to kill you?”
“Of course.”
“Stop spouting madness!”
“Madness?”
Suddenly Joshua stepped forward, standing before Maximian. His left shoe crushed the spilled perfume, and a cool yet sensual musk scent vibrated through the air as though it could dissolve a person. The kind of fragrance found in the musk pouches carried by noblewomen—dozens of times the amount needed for one person. Yet Joshua showed no sign of noticing.
“I’ll be clear. I won’t ruin my work. Everything here is prepared. From those who love me to those who wish to kill me. Do you think I’d flee from a place like this? He could have worked in hiding, easily succeeding, yet he sent an invitation to enjoy this party with me. Surely he doesn’t expect me to turn my back and run away shamefully?”
The expression on Maximian’s face was difficult to describe.
“Joshua… do you understand what you’re saying?”
“Of course I do.”
“He’s put your life on the scales!”
“No. He’s testing my pride. He’s saying—go ahead and become an actor who abandons the countless audience members waiting for me, who betrays the one who boldly sent the invitation, who flees the stage. He’ll be sitting in the audience, laughing as he watches what I become. Yes, you’ll think his only goal is my life. But if I flee now, I can never stand on stage again. I might save my life, but as an actor, my existence ends here.”
“If he meant to provoke you into not fleeing, he’s succeeded well enough. Don’t you think?”
“If he wanted me not to flee, he wouldn’t have sent the costume in the first place.”
Their gazes clashed, but Joshua’s eyes were resolute. There was no sign of retreat. Maximian too glared at Joshua, his brow furrowed. After a long silence, muttered words leaked from Maximian’s lips.
“Madman.”
“Yes, mad. As you and I both know, this madman is me.”
“I want to knock you unconscious right now and drag you out of here.”
“Try it. But I can’t promise what kind of madman you’ll see after that.”
Though the two often clashed in opinion, they had never pushed each other to such extremes before. Not just in disagreement, but in emotion.
Joshua’s expression, breathing low, had hardened as though he would consider no compromise whatsoever. By temperament, Maximian would have thrown a punch and been done with it, but remembering he’d have to stand on stage the next day with that face, he only clenched his fists until they trembled. Yet seeing this, one couldn’t say Maximian entirely rejected Joshua’s argument.
“You…”
After a long moment, Maximian’s mouth opened.
“You’re saying you don’t need my advice. That whether it’s your life, your existence as an actor, or anything else, you can protect it yourself. Then go ahead—do your very best directly. I lack the ability to serve someone as remarkable as you any better. I always thought the time would come. From a stage dominated by the lead, the supporting actor must exit.”
Maximian stepped back, turned, and left the dressing room without another word. Joshua didn’t call after him. He stood motionless in that spot, his expression frozen as it was.
“Joshua.”
When Riche called his name, he slowly turned his head, and their eyes met. His expression seemed the same as before, but Riche saw deep fatigue etched around his eyes.
When Riche didn’t continue, Joshua slowly opened his mouth.
“The musk… the scent is rather strong, isn’t it?”
“….”
Like someone barely released from hands strangling their throat, my voice emerged rough and utterly unlike my usual crystalline tone. Riche gazed at me for a long while. Certainly I was mad—but a weak person, no, someone strong and brilliant yet struggling to breathe in this world, requiring special air and sustenance meant only for me, though such things did not exist. Like a deer with a broken ankle, pitiable, yet ultimately a boy who needed no help.
The moment Riche turned her body, I spoke.
“Will you… leave too?”
Moments ago I had told her to go and leave me behind, yet now this contradiction revealed how weakened I had become. Without answering, Riche went to the end of the table and retrieved the bundle she had set down upon entering, returning before me.
As she extended the bundle, my pupils trembled with anxiety. I accepted it, but hesitated like someone unsure what to do with it.
“I’ve wanted to give you this for a while.”
My fingertips unwrapped the bundle. Inside lay a dazzlingly white jacket and black trousers with silver patterns—the very garment Maximian had taken the sketch for last time. The jacket’s neckline plunged deep to my chest, and where bobbin lace had once adorned the sleeves, intricate cord embroidery with cutwork now rendered the roses far more distinctly. These rose motifs extended to my shoulders as well, so that should I wear a sleeveless shirt beneath, my shoulder skin would be visible through the cut spaces.
I merely touched the garment without speaking. Riche continued.
“It’s for the wedding scene at the end of Act Two. Since the script specified no proper formal wear anyway, I designed it with complete freedom, but I still think it suits you.”
I remained silent.
“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it. But I think it’s far better than what you wore today. You’re going on stage tomorrow, aren’t you? After making such a sacrifice to choose this place, you should go out looking perfect. I say this with confidence—the costume director here has less skill than I do. Of course, I don’t know what you think, but….”
Before she could finish, Riche’s body swayed. I had suddenly grasped her shoulders, pulled her close, and kissed her cheek. We remained like that, faces pressed together, for a moment.
Riche’s eyes widened, then closed, then opened again as she glanced sideways at my face. Beautiful lashes covered my closed eyelids, visible right before her eyes. My cheek was cold, the hair touching my forehead soft, my lips warm as if flushed with fever. The next instant, as Riche hastily pulled back, I too lifted my head.
“Thank you.”
Leaving only those brief words, I gathered the garment and departed just as Maximian had.
Left alone, Riche brought her hand to her chest without thinking. Only then did she feel her heart racing, and her face flushed crimson. It was merely a gesture of gratitude, something boys from her homeland would exchange without hesitation—why was she so flustered? Had it been so brief, or had it lasted longer?
Words tumbled from her lips unbidden.
“Damn it….”
That was when.
“Um, Millar….”
Riche started violently. Her already racing heartbeat quickened further. She heard only a voice with no visible source, coming not from the entrance but from the direction of the wall.
“Ah, I….”
Flustered by what had just happened and the thought that someone might have witnessed it, her mind reeled. Not only what she had just experienced, but moments before—the three of them calling each other by their true names and discussing “The Salaryman” in detail. If someone had heard that, it would be catastrophic.
“Who are you?”
But as she responded, realization struck. There was only one girl here who would call Riche by the name Millar.
“Ines?”
“….”
Silence hung for a moment, then came a rustling sound. Soon the wall Riche had thought solid swung open, revealing a wardrobe-like space. Ines stood pressed against its interior.
Riche could not laugh.
“It’s you… But why were you in there?”
Ines, emerging from the wardrobe, stared intently at Riche, her eyes seeming somehow strange. Unlike the careful, mature Ines from their conversation in the Costume Storage Room before, this was different. She said nothing for a long time. The brief moment of waiting for her to speak felt unbearably long. What if she suddenly asked who The Assassin was? How would I answer?
Yet the first words Ines spoke after closing the wardrobe door and approaching the table were entirely unexpected.
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 this book’s contents, 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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