Chapter 166.5, [Side Story] Black Butterfly

Translator: Hedge

Editor: Lizzz

 

I reminisce about the time that has passed.

 

The reminiscence was welcome, joyful, and happy.

 

And it was wistful, melancholy, and sad.

 

After that…

 

* * *

 

I opened my eyes to the sound of the wind.

 

Rain was falling and I wasn’t in a good mood.

 

Why, of all days, did I open my eyes on such a day?

 

That one thing displeased me. So, without even trying to gauge how long I had been asleep, I went outside.

 

“I called for you.”

 

A voice answers as if responding to my curiosity. The voice of someone I met after living through a long time I could not remember.

 

Sometimes the form of a young child, other times that of a mature woman, and on whimsical days the form of a red bird, the voice of an existence that was one and all.

 

“Why call me on such a day? You know I hate it.”

 

I hate rainy days.

 

She definitely knows I hate such days. She was someone who knew everything in this world, so she had to know.

 

“Something appeared. Something unknown. Something strange. That’s why I called for you.”

 

Up until then, I had no particular thoughts. Just the sentiment that there were things unknown even to Serenty, even to the Goddess who made me.

 

I did not ‘know’ that this was the beginning.

 

If even this Goddess, who should know everything in this world, did not know, how could I have known? Of course, the problem was too great to take comfort in that, but anyway, I did not know at that time.

 

What would come to be grandly named the War of the Two Gods began like that, with Serenty’s small call that woke me on a rainy day.

 

“Syspanian. Help me.”

 

It was backwards.

 

Serenty, who had always been begged for help by someone, begged me for help. Though it was the language of God that I could not refuse, it was definitely begging. It was the most desperate voice ever.

 

“Speak.”

 

The reality I came to face from that call was never trivial.

 

An Evil God, one whose name was hard to even speak, had opened its eyes. An existence I had never seen covered Serenty’s eyes and took lives.

 

My kin who rashly intervened died in vain, and I hid a young kinsman. The continent split and drifted apart, and half of the remaining continent changed bleakly, losing its beauty. I saw with my own eyes various races disappear and become legends.

 

The Evil God’s very last prey were the most fragile humans. Several humans who claimed to be the strongest gathered, saying they would stop it. Even so, they were too weak.

 

“I know they are the opportunity.”

 

Serenty described humans as the last opportunity. She bestowed power upon them.

 

Seven humans gathered like that. And I bound the Evil God’s feet. A modest yet grand final battle began.

 

Serenty, who had been with us, revealed her will. She said it would be better for her to disappear than for everyone to die. We could not oppose her, and thus she fell asleep together with the Evil God.

 

Four survived.

 

No, four died.

 

That was how the final battle ended.

 

And everyone knew that Serenty had fallen asleep.

 

The chaos of lives who lost their God was too great. So, I couldn’t bring myself to fall asleep again.

 

* * *

 

Some time passed.

 

We were now called heroes.

 

Humans added the word sacrifice above the names of the dead heroes. Even though they had simply died and vanished, their deaths were packaged so splendidly.

 

And they were forgotten. Humans praised the surviving heroes. Because they had learned that only by doing so could they themselves survive. There was too much that had disappeared to grieve and mourn death. If they tried to mourn it all, they would go mad.

 

“Syspanian.”

 

He was the same.

 

Since the war had ended, the surviving hero should have been forgotten like the dead heroes, but he did not do so. He stepped forward and gathered those who survived. He buried memories of the dead and encouraged life.

 

“Do you dislike rain and like snow?”

 

And he followed me around, trailing after me.

 

A human who was surely called a hero by someone. A human who possessed a sword sharper than any other human. A human who could command other humans with a single word. The strongest human.

 

Such a person followed me around.

 

That human followed around me, who was not human, endlessly.

 

“What else do you dislike?”

 

I could not understand the intention behind asking such things.

 

Just because I said the snow falling now was more beautiful when he said the world he had protected was beautiful. I had never said I disliked rain or that I liked snow.

 

Yet he knew. And he always asked like that. What else did I dislike?

 

“You.”

 

Such a person, I disliked.

 

* * *

 

Did Serenty know?

 

How the world would change because of him, how I would change, how my world would change.

 

That it would become both the prologue and epilogue of my life.

 

Did she know?

 

Or didn’t she know?

 

If she knew, I would resent her until the day my life ends.

 

Did she know?

 

Or didn’t she know?

 

If she didn’t know, I would resent her until the day my life ends.

 

* * *

 

“I like butterflies.”

 

I was not that interested in him.

 

He didn’t care that I wasn’t interested. He came as he pleased, chattered as he pleased, and left as he pleased.

 

“I like them. Because it seems like flowers will bloom. So, it always seems like spring is coming. That’s why I like them.”

 

The hero Neriad who died in the final battle.

 

It was the day news came that she (The Nameless Queen), who had left knowing she was carrying Neriad’s child, was heard from. He came to me again without reason and talked about spring-like things. He talked about things like flowers blooming.

 

“Secritia. They named it that.”

 

One who guards secrets.

 

A new country was born with such meaning, Secritia.

 

He was happy telling me the story that she had founded a country with such a name. He rejoiced that she had created what would surely be a beautiful country beside the sea that Neriad, who died protecting her, had wanted to see until the end.

 

“I liked that news because it was like a butterfly. Because it seemed like flowers had bloomed. Fortunately.”

 

Fortunately that she did not die, that she was alive. Fortunate that she gathered people and founded a country and rose again, like a flower.

 

He said so.

 

“Syspanian. What do you like?”

 

“You’re leaving.”

 

“Something other than what I know.”

 

“You’re not coming.”

 

And he still pestered me.

 

Unlike Kythros Siegfried, who was arbitrarily loyal, he arbitrarily did not listen.

 

“Anyway. I think I’ll also take Kythros and found a country.”

 

And like this, he declared the founding of a nation.

 

* * *

 

He kept the words he spoke.

 

When he said he would step forward, he really gathered people.

 

When he said he would save the world, he really saved everyone.

 

When he said he would found a country, he really created one.

 

Cyries.

 

A place where spring comes.

 

He founded a country with such a name that suited him perfectly, that only he could have chosen. He created a new country ruled by a new hero over the collapsed old kingdoms and ruined old territories.

 

“I like you, you know. Syspanian. Probably from quite a long time ago.”

 

And like this, he held onto me.

 

I was not an Ancient Dragon amusing herself. I was not in the middle of imitating human life while letting a piece of dreadfully long years flow by.

 

I was remaining as my very existence itself. He knew this too. Knowing this, he still acted as he pleased.

 

“I don’t.”

 

I had never once called his name, never properly spoken to him once. I was merely serving as a pillar for humans in place of Serenty.

 

I was not human.

 

Just finding a way to bring back the sleeping Serenty, just protecting my young kinsman from dying, just understanding this world, I was busy enough with all this.

 

“Human dwellings are too cramped and stuffy.”

 

Too cramped and stuffy. Moreover, noisy, annoying, and it rains. They live in places that are cramped, stuffy, noisy, annoying, and where it rains. Humans live in such places.

 

They live such short lives in such places.

 

“So I’ll never marry you.”

 

I hated it.

 

I hated it enough to want to return to my lair immediately and sleep for about a hundred years, enough to want to prevent him from finding me even by doing that.

 

“Mm. Understood.”

 

He, who had always disobeyed, for some reason answered like this.

 

And then he began building a Royal Palace the size of a village.

 

The day I learned of this fact.

 

I nearly killed the hero who saved the world.

 

* * *

 

Most humans were narrow-minded, conceited, and weak.

 

He was not narrow-minded, was not conceited, and was strong. He was kind, thoughtful, laughed well, and spoke beautifully.

 

And he was selfish.

 

Dreadfully selfish.

 

“Eventually you’ll leave, and eventually I’ll be left behind.”

 

Knowing it would end like that, I asked why he held onto me so.

 

“Because you’re my entire life. Because I hoped to become even a part of your life. Even if it’s selfish, I hoped for that.”

 

Knowing I could never forget memories of him, he still called me. He called me asking not to remember but to cherish memories.

 

“You probably don’t understand well. But later, someday when snow falls, you’ll think of me who used to bother you and frown, when you see the sea, you’ll think of me who used to follow you around noisily and get annoyed. When you see butterflies, you’ll think of me who said I liked them because flowers seemed likely to bloom and smile. Not just remembering, but things like that.”

 

He said that was what memories were.

 

“I know it’s selfish, but I still hoped for that. Because I can’t help wishing for it.”

 

Smitten by that dreadfulness, he held onto me as I tried to leave.

 

“How much longer must I…”

 

“I love you.”

 

He truly was.

 

Truly dreadfully selfish. He remained selfish to the very end.

 

I could not shake off that hand.

 

Because from some point, probably from quite a long time ago, I had been the same way too.

 

* * *

 

“Sys.”

 

“No.”

 

“Pani.”

 

“No.”

 

I became the Queen of the new King in the newly made country. Humans rejoiced and he was happy.

 

And I was with a child.

 

He truly, truly had no talent for naming things. Having named the country and named the Capital, he acted as if he had done his duty.

 

“Bern.”

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

A hero who would not be forgotten.

 

Not being forgotten is a sad thing. So I said I disliked it.

 

I knew all too well that human life was short, and limited, so eventually he would leave me. Eventually the hero would be forgotten and erased, so after everyone forgot, I alone would remember. I did not want to give my child such a name.

 

“Camilon.”

 

Butterfly.

 

That name he had said he liked slipped from his lips.

 

“I like it.”

 

“Ah, finally decided.”

 

He smiled.

 

Even though he would have remembered that I still had not called his name, even knowing I had never once said I loved him, he smiled saying we had decided on the child’s name.

 

Time passed like that.

 

The child was born. Finding it fascinating that it perfectly resembled my black hair and his green eyes, I gave a small blessing.

 

The child began to speak, grow taller, and mature. Time passed like that. It flowed away.

 

He was buried in that much time.

 

I, who could not bind time, was weak.

 

Time was, years were.

 

The human days Serenty had granted them were short.

 

To me, who had lived through the uncountable time, those days.

 

Came too quickly.

 

* * *

 

Harts-ara. Don’t go.

 

I love you.

 

He smiled while I wept.

 

* * *

 

The Royal Palace built for me was so large.

 

The tomb built for him was too small.

 

I visited that place every day.

 

Knowing I could never meet him again, I went. Because time would not pass day by day, I went.

 

Perhaps he would come back.

 

Perhaps I will see him again.

 

I went looking for him as a butterfly.

 

Even as our child left and that child’s child left, I.

 

Became a black butterfly and went looking for his side.

 

A black butterfly hovering around the dead King’s side.

 

Not knowing that people who forgot this was me, they had created a new meaning for the black butterfly.

 

Yet, my heart still prayed for spring to come.

 

* * *

 

And so I still reminisce about time that has passed.

 

My reminiscence is still welcome, still joyful, still happy.

 

And still wistful, still melancholy, still sad.

 

After that, it still hurts.

 

Because of memories that knew not how to forget, because I now know that they are cherished memories.

 

Because I alone was left in longing.