Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 468

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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 238.
Playing Oneself (14)
“I know that too…”
Maximian, sitting in the middle of the deck, gazed at me with desperate eyes, but I could only offer an awkward expression in return.
I held sheet music I had painstakingly copied in the notation currently in use, so Maximian could understand it. Every scrap of blank space was crammed with notes until the pages looked like discarded refuse, no better than a broken violin. Circles and X marks crisscrossed throughout, some areas blackened by vigorous scratching, others layered with corrections so thick they were nearly illegible, and some spots even bore holes where pages had been torn away in frustration. The traces of struggle were pitiful regardless of who had made them—and yet the work remained unfinished. I had been staring at these pages throughout the entire voyage. Even Demonic Joshua, who could compose most pieces at roughly the speed of singing them.
But the Sacred Chant Tradition was not music—it belonged to the realm of magic. There was a gap that even genius alone could not easily overcome without having studied magic. In any case, one could tell from the state of the sheet music alone how hard I was wracking my brain to restore it. One could not accuse me of laziness.
Maximian’s argument was that we should try playing the parts I had restored so painstakingly, while my position was that we could not do so until it was perfect. In truth, back on Sunset Island, I had already examined every page, fitted together the remaining and blank sections, and completed a plausible composition in my mind. And I had tried to test it.
“No, it really won’t work. It’s too dangerous.”
When I shook my head, Maximian stared into empty space and sighed.
“Damn it. You’re always like this. Well, all of you are. That wreck of a violin, that rotting scrap of paper, the one who gave it to you, even the one who stole it—every last one of you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Maximian said nothing for a long time. But eventually, he got up again.
“Fine. So I just have to play that damned ‘South Wind Symphony’ one million five hundred forty-six thousand seven hundred twenty-two more times, is that it?”
As the symphony, consisting of merely four measures, began to echo across the deck again, Riche, now fully awake, covered her ears. I sighed as well. There was no way not to be sick of it.
It was when I had tried playing roughly the first six measures of the composition I had hastily completed on Sunset Island’s beach. As I happened to be looking toward the sea, I grabbed Maximian’s sleeve and began to run without even managing to shout a warning to flee. Maximian, running behind me in confusion, glanced back once—and in that instant, he overtook me.
The two of us, having traversed in a blink the hill we had leisurely climbed the day before, turned at the summit to look at the sea. In that moment, a wave that must have been six times the height of a person subsided, wetting our feet before retreating. From the beach to the hilltop, it had advanced a maximum of a hundred paces before withdrawing.
We stood there in a daze for a while. They called it a wind-producing violin. The wind had indeed been produced. Fortunately, it seemed to have arisen over the sea. Though the range was narrow, how violent must it have been to generate such waves? And… what would have happened if this wind had arisen where we stood?
The two of us, transformed into safety-first advocates, then proceeded to play two measures, wait about half an hour to see what would happen, play two more measures, wait again… and in this manner, night fell before we could even identify an effective composition (to be truthful, we had grown tired early on, shoved the sheet music into the stern, pulled out the remaining provisions, and spent the afternoon playing games like hitting each other in the back of the head with broken coconut shells).
The next day, because our provisions had run out and because Kelsniti, who had been helping us navigate, had not returned, we had to choose one of two options: either create something or row. As a result, progress accelerated dramatically, and finally one composition was completed—the four-measure masterpiece of the Sacred Chant Tradition that Maximian had just personally titled the ‘South Wind Symphony.’
The effect was simple: ‘A south wind begins to blow.’
At the time, that was sufficient. We wrote the South Wind Symphony and escaped Sunset Island, passed through the wall of the storm, fired off a few flares, and met the Althena waiting for us. Emboldened by this success, we foolishly thought we would need no other composition besides the South Wind Symphony to reach Keltika. After all, Keltika is to the north, isn’t it?
Since we possessed a ship that flew through the sky, if we decided to fly all the way to Keltika, it mattered not whether the wind was a north wind or a south wind. Keltika sits along the Bluet River, so we could land on the river. The landing range would be narrow, but that was not a problem. I had become quite skilled at piloting the airship by now. But what came after was the problem. Would anyone prevent me from returning to Jade Ring Castle?
Hardly. The enemy knew that we possessed a flying ship. So they would find ways to blockade the river and the harbor. In any case, the Beauty’s Pinnacle could not land on solid ground.
Therefore, landing on the river would be all the more conspicuous. It would be ideal to land near the harbor and slip in discreetly, but Maximian rejected this plan as well. Based on clear reasoning, he predicted that those sent to deal with us would be waiting in front of the harbor.
The Beauty’s Pinnacle could fly through the sky, but it would be no exaggeration to say it lacked any other function. We were aboard a ship that could not even properly maneuver once it touched water, carrying no cannons whatsoever—not quite a pure Wandering Theater Troupe vessel, but something similar nonetheless.
Maximian had long since abandoned unrealistic plans like mounting cannons on the Beauty’s Pinnacle and conceived a simple one instead. This is Periwinkle. Ships are everywhere. The requisitioned supplies remain in abundance. Volunteers are piled up. So why not prepare military force on our end and strike back? Until now we have been pursued and suffered, but from now on, we will not.
The Young Duke was an idol dearly beloved by the people of Periwinkle. It seemed he had been to some degree originally, but after seeing me directly, the degree intensified considerably. Since he was not a Duke but a Young Duke, he bore no responsibility and received only love—perfect for him. Those who had participated in the voyage to Sunset Island, eager to boast, spread rumors of the Young Duke mingling with them in unpretentious familiarity, amplifying them a hundredfold. As a result, it seemed that if one said ‘protecting the Young Duke,’ the entire island population might rush out.
Moreover, this was a pirate’s island—it would be absurd not to be able to deploy one or two heavily armed ships to escort the Young Duke, would it not?
This splendid plan had one major flaw. One could obtain ships bristling with dozens of powerful cannons and carrying hundreds of pirates skilled in close combat—several of them, even—free of charge, perfectly suited to Maximian’s standards. But those ships could not fly. In other words, to travel with an escort, the Beauty’s Pinnacle would also have to abandon flight and sail.
I asked how long it would take to reach Keltika that way.
“Two months should suffice, being generous about it, sir.”
The plan was abandoned. Whether it was because I had grown accustomed to flying, in any case two months was an excessively leisurely plan. We would not reach Keltika until late September at the earliest—how could we know what would happen in the meantime?
The person who conceived the third plan was Richard Fell.
“If the escort ships cannot travel with us, then they can wait there instead.”
He said there was a fleet in that vicinity. We could meet them on the waters near Keltika. It was the best plan, provided we did not confuse the rendezvous point. The Beauty’s Pinnacle was loaded with flares that produced fire and signal devices that emitted smoke. And while the Young Duke was traveling, servants, sailors, navigators, a cook, a doctor, a jester, a musician, and attendants attempted to board to ensure his comfort—but the passenger capacity was exceeded, and the number was limited to seven.
Milestone’s contract had originally ended upon arrival at Periwinkle, so he received his wages immediately and did not board the Althena bound for Sunset Island. But when Joshua’s party returned to Periwinkle, he was still wandering the island, unable to leave. According to Milestone, he had not found work. There were too many navigators and sailors on this island. As many as the flocks of birds flying about the harbor. In fact, most men and women past working age were the same!
In this situation, it seemed wrong to ignore Milestone, who was not even from here, and leave him behind. Moreover, since he himself said he wished to renegotiate his contract, he boarded again.
Contacting the fleet near Keltika and receiving a response required several days, even with the aid of swift messenger birds, relay ships, and some magic. As a result, contrary to the declaration that we would depart the next day, more than ten days elapsed before the Beauty’s Pinnacle left Periwinkle Harbor. Before departing, I issued my first command in the capacity of the Young Duke: a blockade order on all sea routes leading into Sunset Island.
Now the promised meeting point was not far. Since we would have to land on the sea, this was finally the moment when the South Wind Symphony was necessary—or rather, when it had to be used. With Milestone and two navigators, plus five exceptionally skilled sailors who were practically navigators themselves, we could leave the sailing to them. But as the one and only masterpiece, the South Wind Symphony, began to falter, questions bred frustration, and frustration bred anger. For two hours now, we had been desperately clinging to perfecting the South Wind Symphony.
“About that performance…”
Riche pushed off from the rail she’d been leaning against and rose slowly, regarding the two of them. Joshua responded.
“Hm?”
“Does it really have to be that violin every single time?”
“Eh?”
Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked at her, and Riche lifted a finger, rolling her eyes toward the empty air.
“From a listener’s perspective, that’s just how it is. I can’t live on violin alone! We need variety, things like that.”
After Riche disappeared into the cabin, Joshua hummed the South Wind Symphony softly. Since there were no lyrics, he struggled to infuse it with emotion and simply improvised words. A moment later, unable to bear the heat any longer, Riche emerged from the cabin and heard a strange—or rather, a very familiar—melody reach her ears.
South wind, blow for us
Come on, blow a little
No, not the north wind
That’s just not going to work
His singing voice was excellent, so Riche thought it might be more bearable than the violin—or rather, she burst into laughter and tried to approach Joshua. But then she suddenly felt a gust of wind sweep through her hair.
It was wind that blew from the south and disappeared toward the north.
“Ooh?”
Before Riche could say anything, Maximian burst out from behind the mast.
“Joshua, what did you just do?”
Perhaps mindful of Maximian’s pride, the south wind in question passed very briefly and weakly. Joshua stared blankly up at the sky. Before the two could begin to quarrel, Milestone, exhausted from the heat, crawled out of the cabin, collapsed with a thud, and reported.
“We’ve arrived. Let’s go down. It’s Keltika Bay.”
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, you must obtain written consent from both parties.

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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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