Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 592

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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 41.
The Velvet Invitation (5)
“Yes. Could you perhaps be Ispin Charles….”
Suspicion colored the voice asking the question—a stark contrast to before. The reason was unmistakable: Espin’s voice, to anyone’s ear, belonged to a woman, and a rather young one at that, perhaps fifteen years old. Espin opened her eyes wide and spoke.
“No? I’m Marceliet Colombier-le-Bieu.”
As she spoke her name, she subtly wove in the distinctive guttural tones characteristic of Orlanne speech.
Fortunately, her clothing differed from yesterday’s. While it wasn’t women’s attire either, if one imagined that Orange Buck or Maximian had reported her appearance, it was at least not identical. She had stripped off her half-cape in a fit of irrational frustration outside the Academy this morning, her fever rising, and stuffed it into her bag.
“I see….”
As the three exchanged glances with one another, Espin quickly continued.
“But what is that? That purple round thing over there—is that magic? It’s absolutely fascinating and beautiful. Would it be alright if I took just a tiny piece?”
The moment she said this, she stepped forward and reached out her hand. The woman with brown hair tied back cried out in alarm.
“You mustn’t touch it!”
Espin flinched in surprise and made a show of withdrawing her hand, nearly stumbling in the process. Then, flustered, she spoke.
“Oh, I can’t? Then I shouldn’t be standing here either, should I? Does it explode? Or… that’s it, some terrifying monster doesn’t come out, does it?”
Seeing Espin’s frightened expression, the woman’s face grew troubled.
“It’s not like that, but still, if you touch it….”
“It’s dangerous then…. I’m scared. Um, I’m sorry, but may I leave?”
Without waiting for an answer, she began backing away, then quickly turned and started running. Her mind swiftly catalogued the location of the path leading down from the village, the terrain features along the way, and which of them might prove useful. As expected, she soon heard voices calling from behind her.
“Wait a moment!”
Espin had never believed they would simply let her go. Even if they had been searching for the boy Ispin Charles and were confused upon seeing a woman, they would hardly be foolish enough to release someone with similar distinguishing features without further inquiry. She only needed to put distance between herself and their spell range before they reached that conclusion.
“Marce…ette!”
They mispronounced the name she had deliberately delivered with a heavy Orlanne accent. Of course, she had chosen it precisely for that reason. They would certainly forget the surname as well.
It was merely the name of a tower that had stood in the ruins of an abandoned manor where she used to play with her Older Brother in childhood. Espin knew that Anomarad people had a peculiar difficulty remembering such names. It was because they regarded their common tongue as the standard and possessed no inclination to understand the pronunciations of other nations.
She quickly left the village behind and reached the forest’s edge. Sensing the presence of Pshiki beyond the tangled undergrowth, Espin brightened.
In Orlanne, one could feel Pshiki nearly anywhere, but in Anomarad it had been quite different. From yesterday until now, she had discovered only two. Perhaps Orlanne was simply a more favorable place for Pshiki to dwell? Yet in this forest, there were quite a few—at least more than ten.
As Espin plunged into the forest, she distinctly sensed the presence of the Pshiki and immediately turned around. Then, in a low voice, she spoke.
“Shall we create something beautiful together?”
The Pshiki neither spoke first nor answered, yet Espin often addressed them. At first, she had been confused about how to treat beings without form, but after what Nay had said, she had considered thinking of them as birds, and before long it had become this. Small, radiant birds that desire to perish in my hands….
Espin extended one hand and lightly waved her fingers through empty air. A faint undulation rippled outward through the atmosphere. She felt the Pshiki tense and quiver. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to kill you. Not this time, anyway.
Once she was ready, she flicked her fingertips lightly. Transparent something began to grow, stretching outward, then transforming into brown, green, and black as it proliferated like fireworks. It appeared as though dozens of trees had suddenly sprouted, yet in reality only the branches and leaves at specific points had become densely packed. The reason one could detect nothing strange about it was that the landscape beyond ten or twenty paces came into view all at once, creating a naturally convincing sense of perspective.
Espin silently stepped back several paces and watched the approaching people. They stopped just four or five paces beyond where Espin had stood, yet showed no sign of discovering her. They merely looked about uncertainly. Then, from some distance away, the sound of someone walking was heard.
“Over there.”
“You heard it too?”
One pointed, and the other two nodded and hurried in that direction. As Espin watched intently, they passed within mere steps of her, and she heard their voices clearly.
“But what was her name again?”
“Mariette? Melissa?”
“In any case, she was a woman. Wasn’t the person we’re looking for a man?”
“We should at least confirm it, you know.”
Espin waited for them to recede before moving gracefully in the opposite direction. The training she had received during her time at Etoile, called “feather step,” proved invaluable.
In truth, even before receiving formal training, Espin had excelled at this gait, likely because she had studied ballet since childhood. Perhaps for this reason her footwork differed slightly from what Etoile taught, but it was sufficiently superior in its silence, so it mattered not.
Once I had put sufficient distance between myself and my pursuers, I turned and quickened my pace. The Pshiki that had swirled around me, obscuring my trail and distorting their vision, continued to follow, but I couldn’t know how long such simple deceptions would fool them.
More powerful methods would have been difficult to employ. With this many Pshiki gathered, there were countless ways to disorient an opponent or shake off pursuit, but I deliberately chose a quiet, unremarkable approach.
Because my pursuers were from Nenyaple. When I had declared my intention to go directly to Nenyaple, Marie Louis had warned me repeatedly and earnestly.
“My lady, a mage teaching at Nenyaple is someone who can accomplish anything if they set their mind to it. Among those whose identities are publicly known, they would be among the most fearsome people on the entire Continent. In truth, even their revealed identities may not be the whole picture.”
So I must never allow myself to be hunted by them.
Of course, those pursuing me now were not professors, and when an enemy drew near, wielding a blade was faster and easier than manipulating Pshiki. But if I didn’t intend to kill them, displaying threatening abilities would only draw attention. Following Marie Louis’s advice, I had to remain unremarkable—perhaps slightly suspicious, but ultimately not worth a professor’s effort to pursue.
When I reached the forest’s edge, I released the Pshiki I had been holding, letting them scatter into the air.
As they dispersed like small birds, I mouthed the words “see you next time.” Of course, I couldn’t distinguish one Pshiki from another, so even if I encountered one of these same creatures elsewhere, I would have no way of recognizing it. But I had received their help regardless. And besides, this way was more amusing.
Then I moved forward at a brisk pace until I reached the cliff I had first envisioned. Below stretched the Yaplia River—a drop from this height would be fatal twice over. My eyes narrowed as I gazed down at the water. What should I do now?
Above all, I needed to distance myself from Nenyaple. The range of tracking magic used by mages to locate people extended at most a dozen minutes’ ride on horseback, and they required something like a piece of the target’s body or a long-used possession. Since I had left nothing behind, it seemed unlikely they could find me through such incantations, but to be safe, it was best to travel as far as possible.
I also wondered what had become of Maximian. My first impression of Maximian had been that he was irresponsible and difficult to handle, so initially I thought he had fled simply because he was reluctant to hand over the pistol so abruptly. But after seeing the purple seal, my judgment had cleared. He didn’t seem like someone trustworthy, but would he really abandon his student status and flee in a single night merely because he coveted a pistol he barely understood? Wasn’t it more plausible that something had gone wrong and he had been summoned by a Nenyaple professor?
If so, then why? Could Nenyaple also be after the pistol? Why? Did they know what I knew?
No…
I reconsidered. I was too fixated on the pistol. It was important to me, after all.
But Maximian’s attitude yesterday had been different. He had reacted as if it were merely an old, unremarkable incident. Yet on the very day I met Maximian and requested the pistol, Nenyaple—which had remained quiet until then—suddenly attempted to obtain it. The coincidence was too great.
Rather, judging by the tavern being sealed, wasn’t Nenyaple’s real concern the emergence of the Pshiki? But why would Nenyaple’s mages make such a fuss over a single Pshiki?
From this point on, it was difficult to draw conclusions through reasoning alone. I would need magical knowledge. So I set that aside for now. What I needed to do was escape this place.
Where should I go? If Nenyaple began a thorough investigation, the people I had contacted and the places I had visited near Nenyaple would likely be discovered quickly. So I had to change my route entirely.
First, I would disappear for a few days, then make my way directly to Moniz, my first waypoint. Once there, I could investigate what had happened with Nenyaple and Maximian Lipkne. Until then, I would move alone under a new name, on a new path, without meeting anyone.
I thought this through without fear. Instead, my entire body grew taut with tension, and I felt as though I had returned to my fifteen-year-old self as an Etoile trainee soldier. If I thought of this as facing the Etoile final examination, it would be manageable. Surely this couldn’t be harder than the final examination?
This location was upstream from the dock where people heading to Nenyaple disembarked. Since no ships would operate after evening, I could hide near the river for a while and move under cover of night without drawing attention. If I traveled upstream for half a day, I would reach a village, and from there I recalled hearing of a small city at the junction of the road leading toward the Panojarae Mountains. It was a route I hadn’t taken on my way here.
“Good.”

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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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