Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 488

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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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Where we expect to find something ugly,
we will discover the divine,
and where we thought we could kill another,
we will kill ourselves instead,
and through the passage we believed led outward,
we will enter the very center of our own existence,
and in the place we feared would be loneliness,
we will find ourselves united with the world.
— Joseph Campbell
(Joseph Campbell,
1904-1987)
Children of Rune
Demonic
Episode 258.
Beneath the Almond Tree (1)
Act 15. Umbra
1. Sunset
The life I have devoted to you has come to an end.
It was a joyful life without regret.
Scatter my remains upon the Sea,
and lay my body upon the Altar.
Let my memories sustain you,
and let my soul protect my descendants.
“Where am I?”
“You’ve awakened.”
“Awakened? Did something happen to me?”
“Much has happened. But such talk can wait. Now that you’re awake, everything will be well.”
“Then why do you wear such a sorrowful expression?”
When I opened my eyes, a darkened chamber greeted me. I pressed my right hand to my forehead, and the sweat clinging to my fingertips felt slick and cold.
Though the blanket covered me to my chest, my entire body felt chilled. I consciously surveyed my surroundings. The fluttering on my left was merely a curtain. Finding no memory of opening the window to sleep, I rose to check, and beyond the window—open just wide enough for two fingers to slip through—gray tree shadows danced and wavered.
How strange.
I sat up and embraced my knees. Something had been there and then vanished, leaving me hollow, desperate to grasp at anything. I breathed in, then out. The crumpled blanket that had slipped down my legs looked like a shed skin abandoned by something that had molted. If anyone had shed it, it could only be myself. A butterfly should be born from casting off an old chrysalis.
If my half-year had been not death, but sleep promising rebirth.
I could not restrain myself and opened my mouth to call out.
“Kelce.”
There was no answer. It had been frequent enough of late that it was no longer strange. Yet something felt subtly unfamiliar. I recalled a memory from moments before—how close we had been, like twins in a mother’s womb.
“Kelce, where are you?”
He would be somewhere, answering or not. In a place as distant as the Land of Mortals, or perhaps somewhere closer. Perhaps he was simply too busy to come. And then at some moment, he would speak to me. Always from a distance just beyond the reach of my hand.
Could that truly be so?
“Kelce, answer me. Where are you?”
Without a response, Joshua gazed up at the ceiling in the silent chamber. Since meeting Kelsniti, he had not felt truly alone for a long time. Yet in this moment, an intense sensation of absence overwhelmed him.
He could not understand why Kelsniti, who simply did not answer from afar, felt as though she no longer existed anywhere in this world.
It was seven in the evening, yet thick curtains hung over the windows of Duke Arnim’s study. Baron Edmel and Lord Marlon, the Duke’s trusted men, stood beside the desk, while two strangers surrounded a table to receive the guest. Secretary Hessel released the curtain rings and returned to stand before the table.
“Please, all of you be seated.”
As the Duke emerged from behind his desk and took the chair at the head of the table, four people sat down in turn. The Duke addressed the two strangers.
“Welcome. My uncle has spoken of your work frequently.”
The older of the two was a woman in her early forties. Her lean frame and black hair pinned up gave her the appearance of a woman from Lemme. The scarf wrapped around her head and neck bore bright floral patterns, yet her face was weathered like a sailor’s. She bowed lightly.
“I am Priscilla Posada. Please call me Priscilla. It is an honor to meet you.”
Her voice was slow, with a peculiar habit of pulling the ends of her words quickly. As Priscilla’s gaze shifted, a tall man in his mid-thirties simply lowered his head in silence. The Duke understood why he did not speak. Priscilla spoke for him.
“This is Bill Oris.”
Lord Marlon then greeted the two.
“I am Roy Ben Marlon. Though we meet in person for the first time, our correspondence has made you feel like old acquaintances.”
“Your letters were excellent. We have long anticipated a day such as this.”
Bill Oris withdrew a single sheet of paper from his breast and placed it on the table. A list of numbered names was written in rows. It went up to twenty-eight, but more than half had only numbers with blank spaces where names should be. Yet the Duke and the others grew visibly tense. Baron Edmel, who had been staring intently at the paper, lifted his head and asked.
“Is this information certain?”
“Well, if your question is whether we have proof, I must answer no. Had such proof existed, the Exile Council would have hidden them away rather than left them as they are. However, we do have grounds for our own judgment.”
Priscilla’s finger traced across the paper and stopped before one name.
“For instance, this person is certain. The Kingdom 8th Army is also pursuing them, I understand. Of course, they have already disappeared without a trace. And this other person—we are confident, but the Kingdom 8th Army lacks proof and cannot apprehend them. As you can see, they are not nobility.”
Baron Edmel nodded.
“Even so, it is quite remarkable. That you have identified so many district chairmen of the Friends of the People in Keltika, whom even the Kingdom 8th Army cannot grasp.”
Priscilla lowered her head respectfully and spoke.
“It is the work of my superior.”
Duke Arnim straightened his back. He leaned against the chair’s backrest and clasped his hands together, squeezing and releasing them several times. What Hispania had done after leaving the House of Arnim and traveling the continent was not widely known. Even the Duke knew only scattered rumors and a few things Hispania himself had told him.
Since Joshua had nearly lost his life last year, the Duke had consulted with Hispania on many matters and received substantial assistance. He had often marveled at how far Hispania’s reach extended, beyond imagination. Yet this matter surpassed all others in astonishment. The adversary was the Friends of the People—a difficult organization with the most intricate network structure.
“But among these, can we narrow down who it is that we seek?”
Priscilla shrugged.
“As you know, the district chairmen of Keltika are the organization members most prioritized for protection by the Friends of the People. They know more members than even senior executives. Should their identities be exposed, not only would an entire district organization be destroyed, but the connected upper echelons would also be endangered. Therefore, discovering their identities is no simple matter, and those who attempt to approach them risk great danger themselves.”
Even as she said this, Priscilla moved her finger to mark several locations. District 20, District 19, District 12, District 8, and District 3.
“Five, then.”
Lord Marlon murmured. Priscilla continued.
“These are individuals whose whereabouts on the day of the presumed negotiation with Theostid da Moro are unknown, or who are believed to have visited Cazals.”
“Three of these have no names, do they?”
“Not knowing a name does not mean we are ignorant of their movements.”
It was remarkable confidence. Secretary Hessel spoke with admiration.
“Soon we shall be able to show those who dared lay hands on the House of Arnim what the price of such audacity truly is.”
When Ivnoa died, Hispania had said, “Show an example to those who touch Arnim.” It had taken many years for that word to lead to today’s result. At that time, Hispania had instructed Joshua to remain at the castle, but Joshua could not endure it and eventually departed for Hyacan. After that came the crises that befell Joshua, the distant path that led to answers, six months of unconsciousness, and through all of it, Duke Arnim and Hispania had not forgotten. Theo, who had set everything in motion, was dead. Yet the matter did not end there.
The first person they needed to find was the Mage Annie. From the servants’ accounts, she was Theo’s childhood friend from his hometown. Yet even after thoroughly searching the Locusfare region, Theo’s birthplace, there was no trace of her return. Moreover, they could find no parents, siblings, or relatives. That was strange too. It had been merely a decade or so—why would there not be a single person who remembered her, even if she had moved away?
Next, they had to exercise deductive reasoning. They investigated enrollment records at schools that taught magic, but Annie was such a common nickname for women that there were many names that could be shortened to it. The records did not list gender either, so identifying each one individually required considerable effort. In the end, they discovered that Annie’s full name was Anistan Bölf and that she was a graduate of Nenyaple, the most prestigious Magic School. And there the investigation stopped.
Nenyaple regarded those who had completed the mage curriculum and graduated as insiders, protecting them carefully. They kept secrets regarding their origins, what they had learned, how much they had achieved, and what they had done afterward. There had been several occasions when they refused to surrender criminals even when kings and nobility demanded it. They did not cooperate easily even when merely asked to investigate.
When problems arose, they held internal meetings to decide on discipline alone. They did not disclose such matters publicly. Their ideal was to separate a mage’s life from the world’s laws. Therefore, mages feared the discipline of the Mage Council far more than the punishment of any nation.
Another avenue of investigation led to those who had supported Theo from behind the scenes. Theo had hired assassins, discovered Joshua’s movements, and even mobilized a fleet to attack him. Sir Baiyer’s betrayal had already been exposed, but as the investigation deepened, evidence of even greater patrons became increasingly clear.
The ducal title would not simply fall into Theo’s hands merely by assassinating Duke Arnim or Joshua. When they investigated Theo’s activities during his lifetime, it became apparent that he had been introduced to several nobles. It did not take Duke Arnim long to notice a common thread among those aristocrats.
Duke Arnim was a man who had endured the Republican era in Keltika for ten years. Therefore, he knew very well which nobles had sympathized with the Republican Government during that time, and the extent of their involvement. Many of them had erased their past and feigned ignorance when the New Royal Family was established, joining the ranks of the new nobility. Had Duke Arnim, who had become one of the Royal House’s arms, so desired, he could have exposed their identities and destroyed them. But he did not. He had no wish to torment them by dredging up the very things they had done to survive.
However, this incident changed the Duke’s thinking. Nearly half of those Theo had met were connected to the Republican Government of that time. In other words, they were serious participants and likely belonged to the Friends of the People in the present. And Theo had attempted to establish connections with them. It was an extraordinarily dangerous undertaking, but for someone like Theo with no foundation, it was a path he could have chosen if he sought a dramatic reversal of fortune.
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Months Publishing
The copyright of 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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