Dojin stared at Iri with his mouth hanging open, stunned by the revelation that his always gentle and soft-spoken master had once been a war hero. Iri, looking a little embarrassed, lowered his brows.
“War is… if the leader steps forward, the lackeys don’t have to die.”
“That’s true.”
The Butterfly Immortal accepted it cleanly.
Thanks to Iri’s exploits, fighting in the Middle Realm became impossible, and as a result, conflicts naturally dwindled. Outside the Middle Realm, beings from the Lower Realm and the True Mortal Realm rarely encountered one another—and with fewer encounters, fights simply didn’t happen.
Things were so peaceful now that, at the regular conference held once every hundred years, Princess Chalma herself had remarked that peace really was nice and that she’d come to hate war.
“Anyway, it could just be the Guests acting out a little. I didn’t think it was something to worry about, so I was going to let it slide—but I figured I should report it. You really tore into me over something like this before.”
“You absolutely did the right thing telling me. You never know when a tiny spark might meet the wrong kind of storm and grow out of control…. And I hope your yokai find peace in Paradise.”
In truth, yokai don’t actually go to Paradise when they die. It was simply another way of saying “may they rest in peace.” The Butterfly Immortal gave a prim nod, then scooped up a bite of parfait.
“Human realm food isn’t bad. Jangmito, let’s pack these up and share them on the feast day.”
“How many should I buy?”
“Pack ten.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jangmito obediently rose to his feet. Watching him, Dojin thought, So retainers really are just errand runners. But then Iri stopped him.
“Don’t pack them yet. We need to go together to the plague site first.”
“Why there? I already spent an hour there. I checked—there was nothing left but molted husks. Are you saying you don’t trust me?”
The Butterfly Immortal grumbled, but as if he’d expected this reaction, he didn’t object strongly.
“Iri, I didn’t even bring my Dragon Horse.”
“Ride mine.”
Iri stood up. The Butterfly Immortal whined that they were going to end up riding the plainest Dragon Horse in the world. Glancing at the Butterfly Immortal’s excessively elaborate accessories, Dojin thought it was a relief they hadn’t brought their own Dragon Horse down.
The place where earthworms had died en masse was in Gangwon Province, while the site where honeybees and butterflies had perished was an ecological park in Namyangju.
Judging that no traces would remain in Gangwon Province by now, Iri decided to visit only Namyangju.
The park had a tranquil atmosphere and was designed in a way that evoked nostalgia in the Wia, so many of them had settled there. When dozens of Wia lived together, the place was called a ‘Wia village’, and this park was precisely that.
It was a bright, pleasant spring day, so there were many humans and Wia alike. Behind human couples walking arm in arm on dates, Wia couples also strolled hand in hand. Beside human families out with their children, Wia families played with their young, nodding heads and clapping in simple games.
“It doesn’t seem like the Wia here know there was an epidemic,” Dojin whispered.
Iri shook his head.
“They all know. Except for a few with wandering tendencies, once Wia form a village, they rarely leave that land. That’s why the outbreak of a plague is so dangerous.”
“Then shouldn’t someone at least instill a rule telling them to move when there’s an epidemic?”
“When you become king, make that rule. Until then, no matter how much you try to persuade them, they’ll never listen.”
With a pained expression, Iri swept his gaze across the park.
The Wia inside the park had been playing among themselves, but the moment they noticed the group, a commotion erupted.
“Immortal! There are two Immortals!”
“The Butterfly Immortal who came earlier brought Immortal Iri with him!”
“It’s the Immortal from the rental shop!”
“Immortal Iri is here!”
“There’s a vicious-looking human next to Immortal Iri!”
“Who was that last one? Damn it.”
When Dojin snapped, everyone squeaked in fright and hid behind bushes and landscaped trees. Even so, they soon peeked out again, expressing curiosity and fondness. Iri smiled and waved, while the Butterfly Immortal lifted his chin proudly.
Only Jangmito quietly admonished Dojin.
“If you suddenly shout like that, people will notice. If you’re a retainer, act like one and keep quiet.”
“I’m not a retainer. I’m a disciple.”
“Either way, be quiet.”
It wasn’t only the Wia who were watching them. Humans, too, were casting curious glances at the group. Both Dojin and Iri had appearances that naturally drew attention, so when the two of them went out together, they usually cast spells to disperse interest—but today, out of consideration for the attention-loving Butterfly Immortal, they refrained.
From among the people came murmurs like, “Why are they wearing hanbok?” and “Are those people celebrities?” Someone even said the bespectacled man was obviously their manager, but for once, Dojin was broad-minded enough not to tell Jangmito.
Following the winding walking path, the Butterfly Immortal stopped in front of a small, secluded pavilion. The people sitting on it saw one tall, handsome man, one clear and delicate-looking man, one dazzlingly flamboyant figure, and one person with such a vague presence he was clearly their manager—and naturally stood up and yielded their seats. It wasn’t hypnosis; they were simply overwhelmed by the aura.
“Everyone around here lived nearby. I don’t know what will turn up, but take a look.”
With a prim tone, the Butterfly Immortal perched on the pavilion and bit into a cookie Jangmito had bought earlier.
Dojin shook his head. No matter what, it felt far too carefree for a place where yokai had been slaughtered en masse.
“That’s a psychopath…. No, an Immortal….”
Thankfully, the Butterfly Immortal was too busy smiling at the humans who were looking at them with admiration to hear Dojin’s muttering. But their retainer Jangmito did hear it.
“Insect yokai such as honeybees and butterflies live at most thirty days, and unless they committed great sins, they inevitably reincarnate, which is why His Excellency’s sorrow is lighter. He already completed his mourning when he came earlier this morning, so please refrain from such remarks.”
The frail-looking man pushed up his glasses and spoke sharply, then went to the Butterfly Immortal’s side and knelt.
Dojin let out a wow under his breath, then whispered to Iri, who was scanning the surroundings.
“As expected of a retainer—such strong loyalty. If someone badmouthed you, Master, I’d react the same way.”
“You wouldn’t react the same way…. You wouldn’t gently admonish them like Jangmito, would you?”
“Are you seriously comparing me to that rabbit bastard? Comparison isn’t a good teaching method, you know? And being gentle isn’t always best either. If you’re nice all the time, people take you for a sucker. You need to bark and show your temper for it to work. I don’t like shouting either—it hurts my throat—but for effective correction, I have no choice but to get angry. I’m actually a very gentle person.”
“If someone badmouths me later, try gently admonishing them. Then I’ll believe you.”
“Really? Will you praise me too?”
“Anything but a kiss.”
“Tch.”
Dojin jutted out his lips in a pout.
Ignoring his sulking disciple, Iri rummaged through a flower bed and found something.
“Butterfly. What’s that?”
“What? What? What are you talking about?”
Wondering if he’d found something the moment they arrived, the Butterfly Immortal rushed over. What Iri was pointing at was a pile of crumbling fallen leaves. A single patch of decaying leaves amid lush green bushes might look unusual, but considering it was mid-March, it wasn’t all that strange. The Butterfly Immortal snorted.
“Iri. That is what we call a fallen leaf. A very common object you can see in a park in mid-March. Amazing, isn’t it?”
“They’re leaves from a persimmon tree. There aren’t any nearby.”
Dojin carefully picked up the leaf. “What?” The Butterfly Immortal exclaimed again and rushed over.
“Do you know how big this park is? There must be one somewhere!”
The group split up to search for a persimmon tree. But nowhere in the park did such a tree exist. Just in case, they asked the Wia, but were told there had never been one. Even the park caretaker said he’d never seen such a tree.
They regrouped at the pavilion.
“Are you sure this is from a persimmon tree? Absolutely sure?”
“Yes. Look.”
Dojin searched for persimmon trees online and showed the images to the Butterfly Immortal. The crumbling fallen leaf and the leaves of a persimmon tree were unmistakably the same shape.
“That’s strange. It’s a common tree—why is there none here?”
“We’ll have to go directly to the place this leaf came from.”
“How? Don’t tell me you mean Gangwon Province?”
Iri didn’t answer, but the Butterfly Immortal took it that way and let out a groan.
“If I’d known this would happen, I’d have brought my Dragon Horse too…. Do you know how brilliantly multicolored mine is? Yours is just black all over—no flair at all. You didn’t even give it wings, so there’s no fun riding it.”
“We’re not taking Dragon Horses this time. I can’t leave the rental shop unattended for too long.”
“Then what are you going to do? Send only your disciple?”
Hearing that, the disciple jumped in alarm.
“Master. I can’t do anything without you. If I go with these people, I’ll get pissed off and lose all the virtue I’ve built up. If you’re fine with a completely innocent persimmon tree in Gangwon Province getting uprooted, then send me alone.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll all go together through a ‘passage’.”
“A passage…!”
The Butterfly Immortal clapped a hand over his mouth. Jangmito and Dojin, who had no idea what a passage was, looked puzzled. Half shocked and half incredulous, the Butterfly Immortal asked,
“So the destination isn’t Gangwon Province after all. You’re really trying to go to the source of this leaf. But you can make a passage even to a place you’ve never been?”
“Yeah.”
Iri extended his arm forward. As he began to unfold his Taoist art, Jangmito cautiously asked,
“What exactly is this ‘passage’?”
