Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 555

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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 7.
The Princess and the Detective (7)
There was nothing more to say about it. For some reason, I couldn’t even ask these wild dogs—or whatever they were—what they wanted, and was this really it? Fight until I died trapped in here? If I somehow survived to the end, would they open the door again? What kind of arena was this?
The absurdity of these thoughts only deepened Lorang’s irritation, and he scowled as he shouted.
“Get ready!”
Charlotte, already positioned back-to-back with Lorang, gave no reply. The spot where they stood happened to be in the center of the chamber. It was only natural, since the walls had receded from their position as the epicenter.
The scattered dogs around them numbered roughly two hundred. Though not as large as wolves, their gaping maws and sharp stone teeth were formidable enough. And the fact that they had no eyes made me increasingly uneasy watching them. Would they all rush at once? If they had any intelligence, they would. But did they even have intelligence?
They’re coming!
Nearly simultaneously, dozens leaped from the ground. For creatures made of stone, their bounds were swift as hunting hounds. Yet the two fighters were no less agile. Lorang’s blade traced an arc meant to strike three at once, and he didn’t miss a single one. He then drove back another with his elbow and kicked away those lunging at his legs. Charlotte shattered one that had leaped nearly to her face with a thrust, evaded another aiming for her ankle by jumping, and immediately executed a reckless horizontal slash while spinning her body. Though Charlotte’s blade held no magical power, its physical destructive force was more than sufficient.
“Ninety degrees!”
Lorang, sensing the directional shift, immediately adjusted his angle to match. In a situation where two people had to defend against all three hundred sixty degrees, if their assigned ranges overlapped by even a single step, their defense would crumble instantly.
Etoile had originated as the Royal Guard, so rather than training members to move as part of a large army, the objective was to develop each individual to perform multiple roles in crisis situations. The broad field of vision, rapid visual perception, judgment of speed and distance, and specialization in one-versus-many combat all stemmed from this philosophy. As a result of such training, no one could match Etoile’s ability to quickly detect and respond to moving threats. When facing situations like this, the ability to distribute stamina stably and endure until rescue arrived was also fundamental to Etoile training.
“Left!”
Because they had trained countless times, Charlotte understood immediately. I cut down the nearest enemies while gradually rotating in one direction. It was a technique used when defending all directions while surrounded proved difficult. Only through repeated training could they recognize each other’s intentions quickly enough to rotate without error.
If both were right-handed, they should rotate left; if opposite, right. But one was left-handed and one was right-handed. However, as Charlotte half-stepped and looked, she noticed Lorang now held his blade in his right hand. Charlotte cried out.
“I’ll take my left hand instead!”
“Why? Are you better than me?”
With a sharp sound, as they half-stepped again, Lorang shattered two creatures, while Charlotte jerked her head back to evade a wild dog lunging overhead, then struck another with the hilt of her blade to dislodge it and trampled it. Then she shouted.
“Because your left hand is your greatest strength here!”
Her words weren’t wrong, but from Lorang’s perspective, it was different. Separate from his decision to trust Charlotte, he was acutely aware that he had become the last guardian of the princess. Regardless of how things unfolded, any surviving member of Etoile had to complete their mission to the end. And if he couldn’t fully protect the princess himself, then nothing served as better protection than her fighting well.
Having thought this through, Lorang suddenly clicked his tongue and spoke.
“We should have switched blades.”
Caught off guard by the sudden shift in circumstances, I hadn’t thought that far ahead earlier. Charlotte’s blade was serviceable enough in combat, but Lorang’s enchanted blade shattered enemies far more easily. These dogs were fast and numerous, but not beyond her agility to track, and not difficult to destroy—yet striking stone repeatedly was taking a considerable toll on her arms and shoulders.
They fought for a long time, yet oddly, despite how many they destroyed, the numbers didn’t seem to diminish proportionally. Were they being replenished from somewhere? Moreover, both of their breathing had grown ragged, and cold sweat began to form. It was likely due to the sealed chamber. Their arms were beginning to tire. Both knew they couldn’t continue like this indefinitely. When a brief opening appeared, Charlotte spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I think this trap was meant for me.”
“Why? What did you do?”
“It must have been designed to kill me. I don’t know who set it, but…”
Of course, Lorang’s thoughts were the same, but he quickly reconsidered. What good was guilt when death was inevitable? He immediately responded with a sneer.
“Why? You think no one would want to kill you? That’s seriously underestimating yourself. How would you know I got stuck in this mess because some insane Mage cheated me out of a million goblins?”
Charlotte tilted her chin slightly and assessed coldly.
“With all due respect, you don’t seem like that type at all.”
“Tch…”
As a wild dog lunged toward him, Lorang swung his blade and shouted.
“Damn it, if we survive this, I’m just going to live recklessly. What’s with this unnecessarily sincere image!”
Charlotte, shaking off a dog clinging to her arm and kicking it away, shouted back.
“Don’t worry about that! The truth is, I’m not really that sincere either!”
The reason they had begun exchanging meaningless banter was because fatigue was starting to cloud their judgment, though neither fully realized it. Lorang in particular had expended considerable stamina by using his special ability twice in succession earlier. When a brief gap appeared, Lorang spoke.
“The nearest wall—retreat toward it gradually. I’ll cover the rear. Try piercing it again. We need to break through whichever wall it is to escape.”
“Yes. We should at least try.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say it in a tone that sounds like you’re already assuming failure.”
“Yes! That’s a good idea!”
“….”
I was answering by the book, yet it came out sounding sarcastic—surely because my energy was flagging. As Charlotte gradually retreated according to plan, the range I had to cover expanded, and my breathing grew labored. I had a sinking feeling I’d miscalculate my stamina distribution. I barely had any reserves left to begin with….
Around the time I’d stepped back two paces toward the wall myself, I detected an unfamiliar sound. It was coming from beyond the wall.
“Do you hear that?”
A rhythmic pounding grew steadily closer from a distance. A new enemy? If another one appeared now, I wouldn’t be able to hold out.
“I hear it, but….”
Charlotte said something more, but I couldn’t make it out clearly. Moments later, grasping the meaning of that fact, I flinched, my chest growing cold. My hearing is the first sense to deteriorate when I’m exhausted. During Etoile training, soldiers are pushed to their absolute limits, so everyone inevitably discovers their own weakness. This moment when my weakness begins to surface is held in high regard during Etoile training—it even has a special name. ‘Non retour’.
Recognizing non retour doesn’t grant any special surge of strength or anything like that. There’s only one reason you need to know this moment: ‘Prepare for death’. Accept that the probability of dying exceeds the probability of surviving, and decide how best to die. You must calculate an active death, so you don’t perish pathetically in panic. For the sake of your comrades who will survive in your place, and for the mission.
My mission now was naturally the Princess’s survival. I had to die in a way that served that purpose best. I knew this, but having never been driven to such extremity before, my lips had gone dry. No matter how much you train, accepting death as a foregone conclusion in your mind feels strangely unreal. Yet moving mechanically, I drew a deep breath and swiftly switched my sword to my left hand. Then I shouted.
“Run straight to the wall!”
Whether she understood it was a command, Charlotte flinched but didn’t protest—she simply ran toward the wall as ordered. My left hand, which had rested briefly, unleashed its power the moment it gripped the sword, defending nearly 270 degrees and striking down over a dozen birds in rapid succession. The consecutive movements felt so fast even to my own perception that my feet seemed to lift slightly off the ground, as if reality had lost its grip. Suddenly, I recalled something from my training. What was that phenomenon called—when temporary combat power surges upon accepting non retour?
Whatever it was, what use is it now? They’ve studied the process of dying with such precision.

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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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