Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 448

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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 218.
The Face of an Angel and
the Blood Flowing Through a Demon’s Heart (27)
Theo grew increasingly dizzy as he read the grim tome on an empty stomach. He set the book aside and opened the window. Beyond the glass stood a withering tree, skeletal as it had been for years. One branch died each season, a steady decay. A raven lived in that tree. Once, in frustration at a bird that refused to flee even when chased, he had hurled an inkwell at it. But no matter what he did, the raven would not scatter—it merely hopped to the next branch. For a time afterward, ink stained the trunk like blood. Today was no different. As he watched, a familiar sensation crept over him—a tightening in his throat. Soon he would collapse, and the dream would end there.
But today, as his vision blurred, something unfamiliar caught his eye. In the distance, against the opposite wall, sat a large chair. Someone occupied it. The silhouette, half-revealed by moonlight, appeared to be a child his own age.
That couldn’t be.
Theo approached the chair. Even as he did, he told himself this had never happened. He knew it was a dream. Because no one his age had ever visited this house.
In the darkness, the child’s outline gradually became clear. When he finally recognized who it was, Theo froze. The child lifted his head and looked at him. Their eyes met. Beneath a moonlit brow, dark eyes emerged from shadow. As the child tilted his chin slightly, black hair fell away, revealing eyes that were far too cold for a child. They gleamed with a clarity that seemed to pierce through him entirely.
How much had he hated those eyes.
Why did the sight of that gaze make him feel as though he were losing his mind?
Why had they met here? Yes. Now he understood. That child had intruded into the Small Garden that Theo had tended in secret, sitting there as though it were nothing, with precisely those eyes. As if it were naturally his. Theo wanted to scream. To tell him to leave, that it was his. That the entire world was his—so why had he come here?
But he could not. Because if he extended his hand, everything would become his. That was how it had been in the Castle.
But not here.
This was Theo’s home. Even if he had nearly died here from hunger and tension, even if it had already crumbled and vanished, he could not say it belonged to him.
That thought kindled a strange confidence. The tightness in his throat vanished. Theo stepped closer to the child and asked.
“How does it feel?”
There was no answer. The child merely looked up at him. The sharp gaze from before had faded, replaced by unfocused, vacant eyes. The sight of such stupidity pleased him. Theo spoke again.
“Good, isn’t it?”
After a long stare, the other slowly nodded. So slowly. Unable to say no, unable to do anything else.
“Of course it is.”
“….”
From those silent lips came a faint resistance. He could see the child trying to suppress his expression, to erase it entirely, yet failing. Theo smiled. He savored it—that moment when the always-composed, flawless angelic face betrayed humiliation. The satisfaction was so exquisite it nearly drew a twisted moan from his lips.
At the same time, he thought of the audience he had been waiting for. He too would wear that exact expression. Seeing this. How pathetic it would be—reduced to a puppet, moving limply as strings were pulled. How his pride would shatter, his arrogance crumble. Like the moment when the man he had thought was merely his sister’s shadow appeared with the child his sister had borne.
I’m still alive because I wanted to give you this gift.
Theo stepped closer and bent forward. His trembling eyes drew near. His own gaze burned equally black. Nine-year-old Theo leaned his face close to the nine-year-old child he had hated most in that moment, and spoke.
“Do you like the gift, Demonic Joshua?”
And Theo opened his eyes.
He lay still for a long time even after waking. Dawn was pale and hazy. No—morning had already come. The curtains merely concealed and revealed nothing. The light. His world remained night. He left it that way. He let himself linger in the darkness a while longer.
A thin rain fell. It left no footprints on the water’s surface.
Sitting on the rear Deck stairs with his head tilted back, Joshua let the rain strike his face. It was not rain that traced rivulets, but rain that slowly soaked his skin. He absorbed it like clay. The white-breaking rain seemed like stage powder. Or perhaps wind heavy with moisture, rather than rain itself. It swept across his entire body with such refreshing coolness.
July in the South Sea.
“Leisurely, aren’t you.”
As he opened his eyes, his friend’s face came into view, blurred by rainwater. Joshua laughed without fully opening his eyes.
Maximian spoke.
“Do you know what kind of rain this is, acting so carefree?”
“I do.”
“You do?”
Joshua rubbed his eyes. Wet strands of hair clung to his forehead, itching. Maximian continued.
“The sailors say it’s a sign of a storm coming. With the rain mist, you can’t even see the Island. We might wander lost and unlucky after all this.”
“According to the sailors, it’s supposedly a sign of an incoming storm. Because of the rain and fog, The Island isn’t even visible. I wonder if we’ve come all this way just to wander around unluckily.”
“It’s fine. This is the storm I expected. It’s proof we’re getting close.”
Maximian raised one eyebrow. It didn’t take him long to piece it together.
“Don’t tell me… is this that thing? The one you mentioned hearing about long ago?”
“Yes. I knew you’d figure it out.”
The ship lurched to one side. Since the deck was slick, Maximian had to grab the rope leading toward the stern. Joshua rose to his feet, wringing out his soaked clothes. By now, his shirt and trousers clung to him completely.
“Wait, hold on—that thing still exists? You’re not just imagining things because you saw a passing storm?”
“No. I confirmed it before we left. From Richard Fell himself. He told me the storm has returned to this place.”
The Administrator was the person most likely to know about recent changes on Sunset Island. Once Maximian accepted this as fact, he grew tense.
“Wasn’t that the storm no one could break through back then? A magical storm, wasn’t it? Then that’s an even worse problem than just a regular storm, isn’t it?”
“No one could break through? There’s someone who did. One person.”
Joshua grasped the rope alongside him and smiled broadly.
“Actually, two people.”
By Joshua’s orders, the Altena carried a small sailing vessel. It was somewhat large for a rescue boat, but absurdly small for serious voyaging. Still, a skilled navigator might manage it. They said that in Lemme, which bordered the Northern Sea, many explorers used even smaller vessels. That region had many small islands, so sailing with single-masted boats was well-developed there.
Being skilled meant something different from simply having spent years as a sailor. To handle a vessel of this size freely required being both a sailor and a navigator, and also a captain. One needed years or decades of practice in coastal waters before accumulating the skill to venture into open seas. Even so, it was still an unsuitable vessel for voyages lasting months.
What if a novice insisted on taking this boat out to sea?
“I’d wager ten—no, a hundred Elso gold coins that I could swim to Sunset Island sooner than the Young Duke could get there in this boat. And I’m not joking about this.”
“Small as this vessel may look, sir, it’s no simple matter to operate. No matter how blessed the Young Duke is as one of Arnim, on the sea he’s no different from a newborn babe. Do you have any idea how much effort it would take just to teach him to row a single oar properly?”
“Sea work is no jest, sir. Have you ever sailed a boat? You haven’t? We wouldn’t even send you out on a one-span wave, yet you mean to break through this storm? This is beyond all reason.”
“If I can’t stop the Young Duke today, I’ll have to throw myself into the sea right now. Yes! Even if we return alive, our island folk will throw this wretch into the ocean!”
“We’ve done everything you’ve asked until now, but not this. For our sakes, please reconsider. Please, just let us live!”
Joshua listened carefully to every word they said. By the end, a smile even appeared at the corners of his mouth. When they finally surrounded him, ready to physically stop him, Joshua spoke.
“I understand your concerns. I’ve heard your reasons well enough. So now, shall I try to persuade you instead? It might take hours, or perhaps days. That’s fine with me. I respect your experience and judgment, so I think it’s worth spending that time to convince you. As you know, I’m blessed as one of Arnim, so I don’t think this persuasion will fail. All I need is time and patience. I have both in abundance.”
Half an hour later, the sailors were lowering the small sailing vessel into the sea.
The rain had cleared somewhat, but the fog remained. The boat was loaded with water barrels, two days’ worth of provisions, blankets and spare clothes, a hooded cloak, a toolbox containing fishing gear, and a self-defense sword of questionable utility. Two of the “three useless people” were also aboard. The remaining one stood at the rail, looking down at them. With a somewhat forlorn expression.
“Be careful.”
The farewell was brief, perhaps because she truly felt disappointed. Maximian only glanced back without responding. Every reply that came to mind seemed inadequate. Joshua looked up at the rail and spoke.
“I’m more worried about you.”
“Why me?”
“Because I’m leaving you surrounded by men.”
Riche pressed her lips together, then shouted toward the moving ship.
“Then who have you been traveling with all this time!”
As the small sail rose, the boat glided swiftly across the water. Maximian raised one hand, his back still turned. After that came only fog.
Before departure, the Altena’s sailors had competed to share whatever knowledge might help, so what Joshua retained was a rather chaotic collection of sailing techniques. Yet the moment he boarded, he raised the sail with such skill that the watching sailors were astonished. There was another reason for this.
「The waves will get higher soon, so loosen the rope. Start with the one in your left hand, slowly. Once we go deeper, I’ll lower the sail, so be ready.」
Joshua adjusted the rope without hesitation. He loosened it until Kelsniti told him to stop, then tightened it again. The rope was thick and rough, but the captain had given him good gloves, so there was no real strain. Maximian was struggling to become accustomed to the oar. As the sailors had said, rowing was no easy task. Especially when the sea was turbulent.
“I’ve rowed on rivers before.”
「The sea is different. Still, this is relatively calm water.」
“Tch, that pirate priest, acting all superior.”
When the plan was first mentioned, Maximian had objected. Of course he would—it was a plan no one could accept. Two people with no sailing experience trying to break through a storm in such a small boat was madness by any account. Yet Joshua had a clear strategy. A small boat. Maximian had heard about it from Hispanie, so he couldn’t deny it.
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.

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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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