Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 571

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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 23.
The Princess and the Detective (23)
Espin stood with her arms crossed, tilted to one side, and flicked her fingers dismissively.
“I thought you explained that something was inside the lamp.”
There was no time for argument. It leaped up suddenly. Leaving a gaping hole in the coat, it hurled itself toward Maximian’s head. And with that, its form became unmistakably clear—a skeletal creature with burning hair, its entire body composed of flames. What in the world was this? A fire monster? A spirit?
“Damn it!”
Maximian had always excelled at improvisation. And in situations like this, he possessed a talent for becoming even sharper. He dove behind the bar and snatched a frying pan hanging on the wall. He swung it at the creature hurtling toward him. Clang!
Screech!
Something like a shriek erupted, but instead of being knocked away, the creature stuck fast to the pan. Though anyone might have panicked, Maximian instantly shifted tactics, slamming the pan down onto the stove. Once! Twice! When it still wouldn’t come loose, on the third attempt he kicked open the oven door.
“Get out!”
He hurled the pan with the creature clinging to it into the oven, slammed the door shut, and seized the poker to bar it securely. Then he spun around, eyes wide and gasping for breath.
“Phew….”
I exhaled a long breath and looked at Espin. She tilted her head, observing my response with what seemed like fascination. The sight of her infuriated me.
“What is that? Who are you? What did you just do? Quickly—explain it in three sentences.”
Instead of answering, Espin pointed at the oven with her index finger raised.
“That thing—will it come back out?”
As if on cue, violent banging and crashing sounds erupted from within the stone oven. Orange Buck had bolted to the shop door but hesitated, unable to bring himself to leave, glancing nervously about. Then suddenly his eyes lit up and he shouted.
“Wait! I’ll go get someone from the Academy!”
With that, he left the door wide open and fled in a panic. Maximian stood dumbfounded, his mouth agape.
“What? Wait!”
At the same moment, Espin also cried out.
“What? Don’t call anyone!”
Espin rushed to the doorway and peered outside. Orange Buck had fled with all his might and was already out of sight. Meanwhile, the banging from the oven grew louder and faster. It sounded like a metal ball ricocheting in all directions. The stove trembled as if it might collapse.
Maximian was confused, furious, and frustrated about losing his drink, but he made a calm decision.
“You get out too!”
He rushed toward the door, but Espin remained standing in the doorway and didn’t follow. Maximian reached outside, then turned back, his face darkening with irritation. He went back in and grabbed Espin’s hand.
“What are you doing? Go!”
“If I leave, what about that thing?”
“What?”
In that instant, the oven hinge burst and the door flew out, embedding itself in the cupboard. Simultaneously, a fireball shot out at tremendous speed. Smaller than before, but far faster. It looked ready to smash through the ceiling.
Espin wrenched her hand free from Maximian and stepped forward. She drew her right hand inward, then thrust it outward sharply. A circular light appeared in the empty air. Maximian froze, his eyes widening.
“What in the world is that?”
The light, slightly larger than a handspan, neither flickered nor radiated heat. Instead, it was so vivid it resembled a strange window torn open in the void—or rather, like a keyhole leading to another world. Beyond it, luminescence seeped out like faint smoke.
Then it shattered.
The light, scattered like fireworks, collided with the fireball that had burst from the oven and clung to it. They tangled, their forms blurred, and in an instant they shrank away.
Kyaaaagh!
The shriek was sucked away and erased. Both the light and the fireball vanished simultaneously.
“….”
The tavern fell silent as if nothing had happened. A blackened frying pan lay overturned, with only strange white ash drifting through the air.
Most people would have collapsed in shock, but Maximian did not. Having endured all manner of bizarre occurrences because of a certain friend, I quickly regained my composure and looked at Espin.
“What are you? What did you do? You created that thing, didn’t you?”
Espin raised and lowered her eyebrows coldly.
“I didn’t.”
“Then why did it suddenly appear? It burst out the moment you threw the lamp!”
“I did give it a little help coming out. But wouldn’t that be better than it suddenly bursting out when I wasn’t around?”
Whether Espin had summoned it or not, she had also gotten rid of it. But the notion that such a creature was lurking inside an ordinary lamp was still hard to believe.
“I’ve been coming to this tavern for over a year, and I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“That’s because those things are selective about when and whom they appear to.”
“How amusing. If that thing didn’t want to get hit with a frying pan and shoved into the oven today, then ultimately it’s your fault, isn’t it?”
Espin let out a sharp laugh.
“Good deduction, Detective. They don’t usually show themselves to people yet. Though that won’t last forever.”
“So you thought, ‘This fool won’t even listen properly while drinking—he’ll just pretend to hear—so let me summon one of these things and tell him to go to hell,’ is that it?”
Maximian had a talent for cutting straight to the point and silencing his opponent. Eventually, Espin grew irritated.
“That’s not it! I was trying to raise your awareness!”
“Either way! You’re buying me a new oven door, understood?”
“Why, aren’t you going to make me buy a new frying pan too!”
“Right, I almost forgot. Get that as well! Make sure it’s a cast iron pan with a nice smooth finish!”
While the two were glaring at each other fiercely, someone poked his head through the open doorway. It was Orange Buck.
“Hey?”
Maximian and Espin turned simultaneously and glared at him savagely. Orange Buck flinched and spoke.
“Whoa, you two look like you’re about to devour me. Did you have a rough time while I was gone? Glad you’re both still alive at least. Maximian, your bangs are pitch black? But where did that twitchy thing go? I sent someone to tell the Academy, but nobody’s shown up yet.”
Buck, despite being the shop owner, remained hovering in the doorway with no intention of entering. Maximian flared his nostrils and spoke.
“Curious? After you left, about three hundred of them kept coming out. They seemed to like this place. We fried them with a frying pan and stacked them neatly behind the bar, so when they wake up later, you can convince them to go back to your country or whatever.”
Then he walked briskly out the door. Buck wondered what percentage of that was bullshit and looked at Espin, who let out a scoff and spoke.
“By the way, I think about two hundred more will come out, so repair the oven door before that. As quickly as possible.”
Then Espin also left.
Orange Buck stood before his own shop, unable to go in or out, hesitating awkwardly before poking his head inside. At that moment, something fell with a thud from the oven area.
“Eek!”
Orange Buck fled, leaving the door wide open.
Shortly after, Professor Kin, the Summoning Magic Master of Nenyaple, arrived at the tavern after hearing the news through three people. The empty hall contained only a handful of ash and a coat that looked like it had been fished from a trash bin with a gaping hole in it, along with a single frying pan that appeared to have been burned while someone was napping, all lying in a heap. Professor Kin folded his arms and looked around inside, tilting his head in confusion.
“Is this the place where a burning monster that blazed in hellfire burst out? Nothing seems amiss. Did they eat it all?”
3. Automaton
The burning monster that burst from hellfire was not what they had dealt with—rather, the two who had disposed of the monkey-sized creature that crawled from a lamp the size of a liquor bottle were now walking toward the Crossroads. Somehow they had the air of companions. Maximian thought to himself: Why am I walking with this guy? I don’t even know his name.
Maximian stopped before Lindiz’s Pickle Shop and glanced to the side. That’s when Espin spoke first, pointing at the shop.
“Is that stuff really delicious?”
The pickle display that had been full just hours ago was now empty. Maximian glanced at it and replied.
“It’s only delicious for those who study hard. If you’re curious, come back tomorrow and try some.”
“Really? So it’s not delicious for you?”
Maximian frowned with one eyebrow.
“Right, I don’t eat it. Anyway, where are you going? Why are you following me? I’m heading to the Academy to sleep.”
Espin raised her index finger and tapped her temple lightly as she spoke.
“Did you already forget what I said earlier? How do you manage to be a detective with a mind like that?”
“What about my mind… exactly?”
It seemed he hadn’t fully grasped in his youth how unpleasant such words could sound. In fact, the memory of how frequently he’d uttered similar remarks from his own mouth came rushing back. Espin paid no mind to Maximian’s indignation and gazed up at him with unwavering composure.
“You said you had a commission for me. Shouldn’t we get around to discussing it now?”
Maximian found himself raising his voice without thinking.
“I told you business hours are over!”
“Oh, that’s right? So business is closed today, tomorrow’s fully booked, and the day after is your regular day off? Then shouldn’t we meet the day after that?”
“Why should I? If I don’t want to see you, I don’t have to. What exactly did you leave with me?”
Espin let out a scoff, her lips curling upward as her round eyes blinked. Yet the words emerging from that expression as endearing as a puppy’s were cutting and merciless.
“Ah, is that so? I suppose that’s true. But can you really make a living as a detective by being so selective about your clients? Did I say I’d infiltrate you into Kingdom 8 Army, or send you to the Land of Mortals? Why are you so quick to panic? Are you afraid I might ask you something harder than five plus eight?”
Maximian found himself at a loss for words. Part of it was anger, but more than that, it was how Espin spoke—it was remarkably similar to his own manner. He recalled how he’d often hurled similar remarks at his friends. Had his tone truly been this infuriating?

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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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