Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 390

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 160.
In the Name of Loyalty and Vengeance (2)
The weather was clear, but that was all.
Even the smallest sailing vessel was not easy for three people to manage. Moreover, only one of them was a true Sailor. The sea remained calm enough that it took roughly an hour to properly adjust the sails without serious consequence—a small mercy, at least.
With such an inexperienced crew and the sea’s unpredictable temperament, fair weather was a stroke of fortune. Yet Joshua, Maximian, and Milestone had no leisure to appreciate such luck. Riche, who lay in the cabin below, grew worse by the moment.
She had not regained consciousness since they brought her aboard, and her breathing remained erratic. Her arm was severely swollen, and the constant cold sweat had soaked not only her clothes but the bedding as well. None of the three possessed medical knowledge beyond basic first aid, so they could not gauge how dire her condition truly was, or whether she would even survive until morning. The uncertainty gnawed at them, their lips parched with anxiety.
The only thing the three non-physicians could do was monitor her pulse. Yet it was so irregular that they feared it might stop altogether. One of them always kept vigil at her side, and whenever Joshua, who held Riche’s wrist, suddenly cried out, the other two would rush over and frantically alternate checking her pulse—a scene that repeated itself countless times through the night.
The three had done everything within their power. They applied pouches of cold water to her swollen arm and alternated hot water bottles against her cooling body, gathering every blanket aboard until the men were left without even a single blanket for themselves. Yet Riche’s hands and feet remained as cold as those of the dead.
“Is there no way to warm her more?”
Joshua, cradling Riche’s hand, felt movement behind him and spoke. No matter how tightly he held it, her hand showed no sign of warming.
Maximian replied.
“Even if you held her all night, you couldn’t warm her more than this.”
“If we did that and Riche recovered, our lives would be in danger.”
“Perhaps so.”
Maximian answered vaguely and lifted several blankets to insert a freshly heated water bottle. He removed the lukewarm one and set it aside. Then he checked the pillow wedged beneath her legs and adjusted it.
Joshua watched this in a daze before speaking.
“She has to be all right.”
He had said it more than thirty times since last night. Maximian offered no response, but he recalled how Joshua had wept when he heard that Mutia was dead. In that moment, he wondered: what did it mean to love no one? Was love something different from responsibility, pity, tenderness, and guilt?
“She will be all right.”
It was a simple statement, yet in this moment it was the only answer that held meaning. Joshua bent forward, cradling his face in his hands, and murmured.
“Not again, not like Mutia….”
It seemed Joshua had recalled that same moment. Maximian shook his head.
“She’s stronger than that woman. Riche is.”
Of course, Maximian did not know how Mutia had died, but if she faced the same circumstances, he felt an inexplicable certainty that Riche would endure better. Had he always held Riche in such special regard? No, he could not say. Yet in this moment, it felt true.
“You said a storm circles around me. I stand at its center, so I escape harm, yet the people around me keep getting hurt… What should I do? I’m afraid of moving forward lest someone be caught in it, and sometimes I wish I could bury myself beneath the earth.”
In this moment, Joshua’s tone was not lamentation but calm explanation of fact, which made it sound strangely unsettling.
“When I think like this, the notion that I sweep away and overturn the fortune of others—whether I believe it or not—it torments me.”
Maximian began to answer immediately but changed his mind and swallowed his words. Then he corrected his tone and spoke.
“When autumn comes and ripe persimmons fall from the tree, is it the fault of the passing wind?”
Joshua stiffened and turned to face him.
“Are you saying this happened because of Riche herself? Surely you don’t mean that seriously?”
“Of course not. Think carefully. In novels, there is a protagonist, and everyone else is merely seasoning for that protagonist’s life. But in the real world, there is no single protagonist. In a story where Riche is the main character, you are merely someone passing by her side. It’s difficult to help another’s life, but it’s not easy to become something fatal to it either. What makes you think you play such an important role in everyone’s life? That kind of thinking is a sickness. In the long novel where Mutia was the protagonist, you were merely a foreshadowing that appeared near the end. And the moment Mutia died, the novel ended.”
“I know. But this time….”
“Don’t interpret another’s life through your own lens. The causes that create results are not one or two. What happened to Riche is Riche’s affair. It was born from the variables in her own life. You’re one of them. If there were a novel where Riche is the protagonist, you would be nothing but someone passing by her side. Remember that. Helping another’s life is difficult, but becoming something fatal to it is not easy either. Why would you play such an important role in everyone’s life? That kind of thinking is a disease. In the long novel where Mutia was the protagonist, you were merely a foreshadowing that appeared near the end. And the moment Mutia died, the novel ended.”
From outside, the sound of Milestone tapping on the deck was heard. It meant come out. Maximian started to go but changed his mind and spoke to Joshua instead.
“You go out. Talk with him, rest a while. I’ll stay here.”
Joshua shook his head at first. But a moment later, he nodded.
“I feel like I should stay. But yes, right now I want to be alone more than anything in the world.”
Joshua left and the door closed. Maximian looked at the closed door for a moment, then turned his gaze to Riche’s face. Looking at her this way, he felt as though her eyelids trembled slightly.
Ivnoa’s death, Mutia’s death, and Riche, who might yet die. Joshua was clearly tormented by them. Yet at the same time, he did not wish to be tormented. Even now, he seeks no comfort. He simply wishes to be alone.
That’s right—a sense of responsibility and kindness are not the same as love. His friend would have wished for nothing to happen. Out of love for them? Perhaps simply to avoid being disturbed by them.
To suffer when such things occur is what makes one human. Yet deep within, there exists a heart so dark and still as the ocean floor, one that perceives even such pain as an intrusion—that is the world of the demonic. It is so utterly self-sufficient that it requires no visitors at all.
A world of solitude, untouched and untouching.
The night had been impossibly long, yet time moved with terrible clarity. Darkness faded, and the sun began to rise.
As dawn broke, Riche’s pulse returned to normal, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Her body temperature seemed to be rising gradually as well. She had weathered the shock, so all that mattered now was reaching the island as quickly as possible—and that the island had a competent doctor.
Beyond the horizon, the island appeared. They confirmed it was indeed Cardril Island, the destination Milestone had set. Everything had proceeded smoothly thus far. Since Cardril Island supposedly had a population of merely a hundred souls, they had harbored no expectations of a well-equipped wharf or dock. Yet as the outline of the dock became visible to the naked eye, both Milestone and Maximian, standing at the ship’s rail, furrowed their brows and exchanged glances.
“What’s happened here?”
“I have no idea.”
As they drew closer, suspicion hardened into certainty. The dock extending far into the sea and the gangway were damaged by more than half. Given the state of the gangway, transporting Riche, who would need to be carried on a stretcher, would prove quite difficult. Moreover, the complete absence of anyone lingering about the harbor struck them as deeply suspicious.
Milestone spoke.
“A storm must have swept through. But with the dock in such a state, they haven’t bothered to repair it? Did they all go on a sightseeing tour together?”
Maximian, entertaining darker imaginings, replied.
“I wish that were the case.”
Though small, the Eastern Coast of Cardril Island was a natural harbor, so the ship could be moored regardless of the damaged dock. Once the anchor was dropped, Joshua and Maximian descended into the cabin to retrieve the stretcher they had prepared beforehand for Riche. Milestone leaped onto the broken gangway. As he surveyed the harbor, his expression grew even more suspicious.
“There’s truly no sign of anyone.”
That was not all. Most of what should rightfully have been present at the dock had vanished. The tower where torches burned through the night, the posts where boats were moored, scattered cargo, the worn nets and oars that typically littered a harbor—none of it remained. And there were no ships. Not a single one besides the one they had arrived in.
Milestone climbed back onto the deck and shouted down through the elevator shaft.
“I think we need to scout the island before disembarking! I’ll go look around, so you two wait aboard!”
2. The Straw-Hatted Pharmacist’s Home
I dreamed of walking alone through an empty street.
When I awoke, that street was filled with people.
Where had they gone while I slept?
I fell asleep again and dreamed once more. Again, no one was there.
I walked and walked, until at last I met someone.
I asked him where the others had gone.
He said they were busy dreaming of a world without me.
There was no one on the island.
In every house with open doors, white coral fragments lingered instead of people. The bones of dead coral, submerged in shallow waters, had somehow been cast ashore and swept away again, leaving traces within the many houses whose doors stood open.
By comparison, the traces left by people were meager. The white houses built along the gentle hill seemed as though people had lived there until four days ago, yet also as though they had been abandoned for decades. From a distance they appeared peaceful, but stepping inside revealed almost no furnishings remaining. Sunlight streamed through open, neglected doors and windows, casting patterns across empty rooms. Nearly every house was like this, save for a few whose doors remained locked.
Wardrobes and beds that should have been inside the houses were piled haphazardly atop the hill’s crest. After climbing there to examine them, Milestone concluded that a tidal wave must have struck this place.
Upon hearing this account, Maximian frowned.
“So nowadays when a tidal wave strikes, the wardrobes evacuate to the hilltop instead of the people?”
“I’m not sure about that, but in any case, all the people seem to have vanished.”
“What kind of tidal wave would leave not a single person behind? Might they have evacuated elsewhere?”
“I don’t see anywhere they could have hidden. This island doesn’t even have a proper mountain. Besides, during our approach, the sea showed no signs of disturbance. Even if a tidal wave did strike, it must have been some time ago. In that case, the evacuees should have returned to the village by now.”
“So they’re all dead?”
“Or they’ve relocated to another island.”
“Abandon their homeland like this? And not a single soul remaining? Such perfect agreement and unified action—this is no ordinary island.”
“Perhaps they learned of the tidal wave in advance and evacuated to another island or the Continent.”
Just then, Joshua, descending from the upper deck, asked a question.
“Did the animals not see anything either? Not even a single rat?”
When Milestone shook his head, Joshua gazed toward The Island and furrowed his brow.
“If that’s the case, then the seawater truly did sweep across The Island.”
“This is troublesome—where on earth are we supposed to find a Doctor to treat Riche?”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Published by: 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.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————