Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 609

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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 61.
The Velvet Invitation (22)
“How should I know?”
“You drew your sword without knowing?”
“The owner is searching for keys at the front door, yet something inside is moving about frantically. What could it be?”
Maximian wasn’t lacking in observational skills, and given that he was currently posing as the homeowner entering a unfamiliar house, I thought he’d been reasonably cautious—yet he hadn’t noticed the presence of someone inside. In other words, Espin wasn’t merely skilled with a blade; her field of vision was remarkably broad and her hearing exceptionally acute. How convenient to have someone so capable.
Maximian set his bag aside and made a circuit of the living room, opening the doors to other chambers. No further hidden occupants emerged. Upon reaching the staircase that led upward, he turned back to Espin and pointed upward with his finger. Espin shook her head.
“Wait.”
Maximian obediently returned to stand beside his bag as instructed, then dropped himself into the chair beside it. He spoke.
“Well then, who are you?”
“Who are you?”
“The owner of this house.”
“Don’t be absurd. The owner of this house is an elderly man.”
“And you—you’ve broken into an old man’s home without permission, slept in his bed, helped yourself to his provisions, borrowed his clothes, trampled his carpets with muddy boots, damaged his fence, and left graffiti on his door, all to encourage others to dump their refuse here. For property destruction, trespassing, and illegal occupation spanning roughly four days, I’d say six months imprisonment is fitting, with a bail of two thousand Elso and a fine of eight hundred Elso. How does that sound?”
From his single circuit of the house, Maximian had already discerned that this intruder hadn’t stayed for merely a day or two. The meticulous touches of the true owner, the distinguished Jeremy de Pleasance, were clearly layered beneath the careless new traces. The knife beside the jam jar on the table had jam dried hard upon it; three teacups lay abandoned throughout the rooms; the bed sheets bore the marks of being crumpled and smoothed repeatedly. Yet for the Backyard to reach such a state would require at least ten days.
In other words, Pleasance had been absent from this house for at least ten days. And this fellow, knowing that fact, had deliberately damaged the exterior to discourage visitors, then occupied the vacant house to live at his leisure.
“N-no, that’s not it! I was in this house to….”
The Tall Man visibly panicked, his gaze alternating between Maximian and Espin as though trying to determine who held authority. Yet at that moment, Espin was glancing about as if searching for something else entirely. The Tall Man finally fixed his eyes on Maximian and concluded his statement.
“…I just needed to find something!”
“So now it’s fashionable to break into someone else’s house to search for lost items, and if you don’t find them, simply squat there? Shouldn’t a civilized person leave a note outside the door if the owner is absent? After searching for four days without success, yet refusing to leave and planning to sleep here tonight—what percentage chance is there that your story is truthful? Might you have actually murdered the owner, buried him in the Backyard, and now you’re waiting for garbage to pile up so no one finds him?”
As Maximian rattled off his accusations, Espin listened with the fascination of someone watching an acrobatic performance. When the accused flinched at the final remark, she pressed her foot down firmly and spoke.
“Would you like a nice hole drilled through your jaw? It’s quite convenient when you forget what you’ve stuffed in your mouth.”
Maximian stared at Espin with an incredulous expression.
“Where did you learn to say such things?”
“I know a good place. Want me to take you there?”
“No, thank you.”
The pinned Tall Man stared down at the blade now mere finger-widths from his face, trembling, then looked back at Maximian pleadingly. Maximian spoke.
“Let’s hear your rebuttal.”
Espin withdrew her blade by a hand’s breadth. The Tall Man immediately cried out.
“No, no! P-P-Pleasance just disappeared on his own! He didn’t even give me my money back! And it’s only been two days, not four!”
Maximian rested his chin on his hand and spoke.
“Noted. So you’re currently occupying someone else’s house on the second day. What you were searching for was money. You already knew the owner was absent before you arrived.”
The Tall Man fell silent once more, while Espin suddenly burst into laughter. She found herself thinking: This is nothing special, yet it’s oddly entertaining.
Maximian continued.
“So, anything else to say? Nothing? Or rather, you have plenty to say but find it tedious, so you’d prefer I drill an appropriately sized hole through your jaw instead?”
“N-no, that’s not….”
That was when the smile vanished entirely from Espin’s face. Simultaneously, her gaze shifted upward toward the staircase. Maximian heard nothing, yet he immediately grasped the situation. Moments later, as footsteps slowly descended, Espin looked at Maximian, and their eyes met.
“….”
Neither spoke a word, yet Maximian swiftly crossed the living room carpet to restrain the fallen Tall Man, while Espin, rising to her feet, slid smoothly beside the stair railing. When ascending the staircase, one secures the left side first. As she drew her blade and assumed the waiting stance—Etoile Basic Form Number Two—and looked upward, a voice called down.
“There’s no need to be so tense. My hands are empty.”
Her voice was calm. A woman stood at the top of the staircase, draped in what looked like little more than rags, wearing a dress so stained it was impossible to discern its original color. Had vagrants completely taken over this house? The woman’s hands were genuinely empty. She extended both palms forward as if to prove the fact.
“See? May I come down now?”
“….”
Maximian found the woman’s composed demeanor irritating, but he didn’t consider her an immediate threat. There were two of them and she was alone, and from what he could tell, Espin seemed like the type who could have ten ordinary people throw themselves at her one after another, stack them neatly in a corner, brush off her hands, and deliver some terrifying quip without breaking a sweat.
But Espin did not think the same way.
A peculiar whooshing sound erupted, and what appeared to be green smoke suddenly transformed into flames, cascading down the staircase. The inferno was massive enough to incinerate the stairs in an instant. Maximian jolted upright as if struck on the back of the head. He forgot about the man he’d been holding and lunged forward to grab Espin’s arm when—
Crash!
An explosion thundered from below the staircase, and a tremendous wave of force surged outward, sweeping across the steps like a house-sized wave crashing onto a beach. White foam remained before the wave receded and faded away like the tide pulling back. Only a mist—whether spray or smoke, impossible to tell—lingered in the air. Simultaneously, the green flames dissolved and vanished cleanly.
As the mist dispersed, Espin came into view, teeth gritted, her gaze blazing at her opponent. She gripped a black sword in her right hand, held low, while her other arm stretched forward. Her dark eyes burned with fierce fury.
“How dare you… threaten my life?”
Espin bounded up the stairs in great strides and seized the woman by the collar. After a moment’s hesitation, she drove the sword’s hilt up sharply against her jaw.
“Gack!”
As the woman crumpled, Espin pulled her body over, wrenched both arms behind her back, and pressed her knee against her neck. Then she tore a ribbon from her own skirt and shoved it into the woman’s mouth. Subduing a Mage requires blocking incantations and hand signs as a basic principle.
Even if Espin enjoyed traveling alone with a certain playfulness and adventurous spirit, it was because she had confidence in her abilities—not because she thought she could carelessly risk her life. She was the princess of Orlanne and the sole heir. Her life was not hers alone. She could not, must not, end up like her Older Brother.
Had she not suspected from the woman’s stance moments ago that she might be a Mage, her response would not have been so swift. Moreover, if she hadn’t noticed Psyche’s presence here earlier, the tide of battle could have turned in an instant. The thought that she might have lost her life to an unknown opponent in such a place—the anger and trembling in her chest would not subside.
“Hey, Espin.”
At that moment, Maximian called to her. Hearing his calm voice, the seething anger that had been boiling suddenly felt as though a chill had been breathed into it.
“What.”
“This.”
Maximian tossed up a teal cravat. After catching it and binding the woman’s hands with it, Espin finally rose and sheathed her sword. Even then, her excitement had not subsided, and she pressed one hand against her rapidly rising and falling chest for a moment. Meanwhile, Maximian—who had wrapped the man who’d initially tried to escape in a carpet, then covered him with a sofa cover and packaged him like a fish—climbed back up the stairs. Looking down at the woman, he spoke.
“You tied that quite prettily. Next time, teach me about knots.”
“I will.”
“Downstairs?”
“Yes.”
As they exchanged these trivial words, Espin gradually returned to herself. Maximian casually hoisted the bound woman over his shoulder, descended to the lower floor, and laid her beside the packaged fish, then returned to his original chair and rested his chin in his hand.
“Quite the busy duo you two are.”
The two, lying side by side face-down, flashed eyes that strongly denied the claim of being a duo, but Maximian paid no mind.
“So, somehow this duo discovered that Arcnober Street No. 20 was an empty house, and they decided to move in without permission. But then the owner’s grandson appeared with a terrifying sword-wielding woman. To live happily going forward, they’d need to bury these two in the Basement, right? So they hatched a plan—while one created a distraction below, the other would unleash something big from above. Unfortunately, this pathetic duo was too weak and failed. And so they ended up captured and packaged like fish and raw chicken, and that’s the end of the story. Now, next. A tale of cooking fish and raw chicken.”
Though his tone resembled a Nanny’s bedtime story, he recited it in a voice so ominously low and rapid that it sounded threatening, as if a madman had appeared. At first, Espin didn’t understand what was happening, but by the end, she grasped her role and drew her sword, planting it between the two captives. Maximian spoke.
“So, who first?”
The question was meaningless since neither could answer, but Maximian knew that and asked anyway.
“Ah, how strange. No answer. Should I decide for myself?”
“Mmph….”
One of them tried to express an opinion, but Maximian pretended not to hear and continued.
“The fact that young thieves these days have mouths but don’t use them is a grave problem. In other words, it’s a matter of poor manners. Especially when the house owner asks a question and you just stay silent—it’s quite irritating. I’ve heard that drilling holes in the jaw is what teaches such people proper etiquette….”

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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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