Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 477

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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 247.
Playing Oneself (23)
Theo poured out the words that had been churning in his heart without restraint, attempting to laugh, but to Joshua’s eyes, his face was twisted in a peculiar way. It revealed only how much inferiority Theo had harbored toward Joshua all this time. Joshua did not grow angry.
“Before visiting Periwinkle Island, I wouldn’t have even understood what you’re saying now. In the past, I didn’t even feel that the things you speak of were privileges—I lived without grasping their value at all. Rather than saying I naturally enjoyed them, it would be more accurate to say I never recognized their worth. Just as you said, Elder Brother Theo, I had no interest in anything but myself. I didn’t even like the name Duke Joshua von Arnim that much, and if forced to choose between the two, I would have chosen myself as an actor. When I realized that the people of Periwinkle, whom I had never met before in my life, truly loved such a person as me, I became deeply uncomfortable. I didn’t know what I should do for them. It felt like I should do something, yet I knew how to do nothing. I couldn’t do a single thing worthy of such love.”
Theo still wore a contemptuous expression, but no rebuttal came.
“I realized it around the time I left the island. The reason they love me is because I am Duke Joshua von Arnim. Even if someone else were to have the exact same appearance, the exact same abilities, and perform the exact same actions, the people of Periwinkle could never love him. The only thing I must do for them is simply to be Duke Joshua von Arnim. I must ensure that they never believe and love someone who is not me as Duke Joshua von Arnim. I had an obligation to give them the truth. And at the same time, I realized I had the same obligation not only to them but to all those who have loved me since the past. My parents, my friends, all those people, and finally the world itself. That’s how I gained the justification to return and reclaim my place.”
The dim twilight became morning. During these months of chasing and being chased, neither had imagined a day would come when they could speak like this. They thought the age of dialogue had ended, that only death and killing remained. Yet here they sat facing each other, greeting the morning together.
“Doing something for them would be a distant future, after I become a Duke.”
“You can never become a Duke.”
Theo spoke abruptly. Joshua nodded.
“That may be true.”
“Your pretense of not being angry is pitiful.”
“I’m not angry.”
Theo feigned surprise.
“Really? Even though I poisoned the cup you would drink from, created a duplicate of you, hired assassins to kill you, and nearly succeeded several times? Don’t bother playing the virtuous man for no reason. Even if you entered a monastery for a hundred years and came out, those aren’t things to be forgiven, are they? Especially not in front of me—there’s no need to be hypocritical.”
“I didn’t say I forgave such things.”
Joshua offered a faint smile.
“The reason I can speak with you so calmly now is simply because I’ve learned that the worst thing I imagined was not true.”
“Ho, I’m curious what that is. What would you have done if that imagination had been reality?”
Suddenly, the day when Theo and Ivnoa had returned to Jade Ring Castle with the baby came to mind. The strange sense of discord felt then, the suffocation—its true nature lay in this very moment. Back then, Joshua had been trying to understand that Ivnoa was no longer merely his sister but Theo’s wife and the mother of young Franz. Simultaneously, he had barely managed to endure it. An irrational, bitter resentment.
The moment when he had thought Theo had won, just once.
His sister remained unchanged, yet things would never be as they once were, and Joshua had to accept it. Because Joshua did not love his sister as much as Theo did. Had Theo not been there—Theo who wrapped her in care without rest, who embraced the tempestuous Ivnoa, fierce in her innocence, like a spring storm—she would not have departed as a happy five-year-old who knew neither sorrow nor loneliness nor jealousy. For Theo, it was inevitable that no patience remained for others.
So he had forgiven. Countless times, nearly everything. Theo was the person Joshua had forgiven most in his life. How could Joshua not have known? Theo’s hatred. The Demonic Joshua, who at nine years old had never even met those nobles, yet could read their desires and ambitions.
Like moisture seeping into a bookshelf during the rainy season, bit by bit, he had known of the malice that dampened his world, yet thought he must endure this much. Even as a child, he had affirmed the fight of an opponent who came walking toward him as an equal. That was natural. He was Demonic, after all. And without realizing it, he had shed his childish form and tried to grow quickly. He had to endure.
Had Theo betrayed his sister then, Joshua would not have forgiven Theo, and neither would he have forgiven himself. To have trusted and fled with such a person. No, you merely wanted to believe. Because you wanted to flee.
The moment that revulsion fell from his lips, his throat tightened deep within. His voice emerged rough, beyond even his acting ability to control.
“I might have killed you in that moment.”
Theo burst into loud laughter.
“The more you say it, the more curious I become. Then shall I tell you? I never harbored any delusions about you, so unlike you, I don’t bother playing the virtuous man. I must have looked foolish, no? Directly confirming your own crimes and then leisurely debating the matter with you. I have no interest in purposeless games. Perhaps to the Demonic One I’m no better than a worm, but I use my head nonetheless, without rest.”
Joshua suddenly felt a sharp ache in his chest. He didn’t know why.
“What do you mean?”
“Do I look like a criminal resigned to his fate to you?”
Theo raised his hand, pointing to a cabinet beneath the bookshelf across from him.
“Inside there is champagne I prepared long ago. The finest vintage sealed in 960, when the Arajon white grapes were said to have ripened best. I’ve also prepared two glasses for a toast. It’s about time a friend came to raise a glass with me.”
Theo laughed, baring his teeth. It was an expression like a beast laughing. No—beasts cannot laugh.
“I worked very hard to complete the stage before you arrived. It wasn’t a small amount of effort for just one audience member. Moreover, I heard you were coming earlier than scheduled, so I was truly busy. How about we go take a look? By now the curtain should have risen, and I suspect we’ve nearly reached the climax. If we’re any later, we’ll only see the final curtain fall.”
His heart beat faster and faster. It was difficult to bear without pressing it with his hand. It wasn’t only from anxiety. It felt like he was holding someone else’s heart in his place. The heart of someone forced into committing an unavoidable crime in the worst of circumstances.
Theo watched Joshua’s changed expression and laughed silently, yet with his entire face moving.
“That outfit suits you well. You look quite splendid in mourning clothes.”
Joshua sprang to his feet. And he ran out into the corridor.
Anistan stared at the light seeping through the gaping seams of the log cabin. Perhaps morning had already arrived outside. He gazed blankly at the light, lost in such thoughts. The word “morning” felt infinitely unfamiliar.
My head remained numb, as always. At dawn, I completed an experiment without even knowing what I was doing. Without bothering to wipe away the dangerous solution spilled across the workbench, I collapsed onto the straw-filled bed and watched the sunlight. Because so many cracks let the light through, the rays falling on the floor formed a kind of pattern.
I thought the shape resembled turnip roots. When had I last seen a turnip? Not the kind served on a plate, but one with leafy stems still attached and soil clinging to it. It seemed I had seen such a thing in some distant past, yet I could not for the life of me remember where.
Low, chattering sounds reached my ears without ceasing. Not hallucinations, not birdsong. A conversation taking place at some distance. Between the slowly flowing words came various sounds: a teacup settling onto its saucer, water being poured, occasional laughter, wind rustling the curtains.
I thought I was listening intently, but at some point I stopped understanding the conversation. Besides, the conversation was meaningless. It mattered not what they were discussing—whether in the midst of some topic or in the middle of saying, “But setting that aside, how would you feel about joining us for lunch today?”—it all amounted to nothing.
“It’s a gathering of Father’s friends, after all.”
“These days, some friends bring their children along. Even just observing the conversation would be beneficial. Last time, Lord Kernest brought his eighteen-year-old son, and the boy mentioned he hoped you would join us next time and participate in the discussion.”
“I’ve met him before at Mother’s birthday celebration. We didn’t have much of a conversation, though.”
“Young people these days hold social gatherings among themselves, I hear. There are even a few small salons where they gather, and it seems Lord Kernest’s eldest daughter oversees one of them. As is typical with salons, there’s some competition among them. Similar gatherings exist not only in Keltika but also in the Southern Region. For now, it’s merely play among children, but such gatherings often develop into networks of connections.”
“But Father, you know as well as I do. I’m not the sort of person who makes a good impression in such settings.”
“You cannot remain that way forever. Even if you don’t accept Lord Kernest’s invitation, you’ll need to visit one place or another eventually. Our family has been rather isolated from the East Bank people, and it may be necessary to change that going forward.”
To a son who, before even reaching ten years old, had devised schemes to establish the new Kingdom Anomarad, such talk was merely novel. The Duke speaking knew this well. Yet his son nodded. Franz smiled and lifted his teacup.
I command you. Draw the dagger.
Birds gathered on the apricot tree branch rising beyond the window, chirping. The Duke’s gaze turned toward the window. He held the freshly filled teacup. Steam rose from it.
A rustling sound came from within the folds of clothing.
Stab him. Deep. Kill him.
The door opened roughly. Footsteps sounded. Yet the young boy, whose gaze remained fixed on his father’s profile, heard nothing. All sound was erased, and only one voice rang out clearly, repeatedly. The voice of one who entered through his broken places, seeking to dominate him. The voice that tore away his freedom, his will, his very agency. The voice that forced him to deny his own identity.
The voice grew louder.
Kill.
Kill.
The boy rose and the Duke’s gaze turned toward him simultaneously. Waves rippled across the teacup. Then it overflowed, scattering its contents. The liquid soaked the oak table, and what remained the carpet absorbed. Someone appeared like a ghost, pushing the Duke aside, and saw the boy. Their eyes met. Two pairs of black eyes trembled violently.
Eyes that should not have existed.
A face that should never have met his gaze.
The dagger had not yet emerged from the pocket. The command still echoed in my ears. Yet I rejected the command. For the first time, I was seized by an emotion stronger than obedience. There was no sound, no light in my world. I was broken. Through the broken places, a part of me—no, everything that mattered—flowed away. Soon nothing would remain. I was merely a shell. Even the shell would turn to dust….
I am someone who does not exist in this world.
The dagger rose. I drove it down.
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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