Zetak descended the stairs without a moment’s hesitation. Following him, I stepped into a small room that looked like a laboratory. The room was simpler than I had expected, with just one wall lined with suspicious looking books and an experimental table in the middle. That was all. 

The real issue, however, was the man who appeared to be sleeping on the experimental table. 

“The butterfly man.”

I couldn’t help but mutter the words. When he mentioned butterfly wings, I thought it couldn’t be possible. But I never expected him to be here, and for a moment my thoughts stopped. The image of the butterfly wing specimen taken from Karial’s castle seven years ago flashed through my mind. It seemed that these wings really belonged to the so-called butterfly man. 

The wings attached to the man’s back were almost torn in half. It was a deeply disturbing feeling – to see someone I had known in a past life, and more than that, the very person who had killed me back then. 

“I wondered if it would still be here if it hadn’t been discovered… and it seems it is.”

The experimental table where the butterfly man lay was etched with intricate patterns and magic circles that glowed faintly. They seemed to be responsible for keeping the monster in a dormant state. 

Zetak grabbed the magic orb attached to the table. With a firm squeeze, the glowing orb shattered. As the energy flow was cut off, the patterns on the table gradually lost their light. There was no telling when the butterfly man would awaken, but it probably wouldn’t be long. Judging by the way the monsters had gone on the rampage seven years ago, it would be quick. 

I grabbed Zetak’s arm and stepped back carefully. The butterfly man I remembered had a rather aggressive personality. Even if rescued, he might lash out impulsively, hurling his tentacles without hesitation. 

Fortunately, my concern was unnecessary. As the butterfly slowly opened his eyes, his expression was distant and vacant, and he seemed to lack any strength. 

The butterfly lay there for a while, blinking softly as he slowly raised his hand and moved his fingers. It showed no sign of confusion as to where it was, as if it fully understood its situation. It made me wonder if only its body was asleep while its consciousness remained awake. I couldn’t help but think that he might have gone mad. If his mind was awake while his body was asleep, it would mean that he had been trapped inside himself for over ten years. 

He slowly sat up and looked around before turning his gaze to Zetak and me. It was understandable that he looked a little dazed, having just woken up, but there was something different about it. It wasn’t the kind of disorientation that comes from waking up after a long sleep. 

“Was it you who woke me?” 

It seemed completely devoid of any will to live. The butterfly seemed lethargic – no, “indifferent to everything” seemed a more apt description. He was very different from the person I remembered. In my past life he had been highly competitive, like any other monster, with a strong desire to dominate and destroy his opponents. He had even demanded that I make him my subordinate, and when I had refused, he had immediately lashed out with his tentacles. But now it looked defeated and lifeless. 

“It was I who awoke you. Do you remember me?” 

The butterfly stared at Zetak for a moment before nodding. 

“The boy who was on the ground when I was captured… Was it the snake and the spider?” 

If he had seen Zetak, it would have been more than a decade ago. Yet, despite the time that had passed, he still recognised him – not by his appearance, but by the scent of the monster that mingled with him. It was clear that the butterfly had changed. Even with another monster standing right in front of him, there was no trace of his former competitiveness; he didn’t even look or ask why he had been freed. It was as if nothing mattered to him anymore, and his eyes were filled with emptiness. 

What could he have gone through to end up like this? 

“Why did you come to the human world?” 

The question suddenly popped into his head. Had he really come out of loneliness, or was there some other purpose behind it? At my question, the butterfly gave a faint, bitter smile. 

“Why did I come to the human kingdom? It’s been a long time since anyone asked me that. Even the child I raised once said something like that.” 

“Child?” 

Instead of answering, the butterfly’s gaze swept over Zetak and me. While it gave Zetak only a brief glance, its eyes lingered on me for quite some time. 

“The scent… This monster has marked you all over. Are you its plaything?” 

At these words, Zetak’s expression hardened. He started to take a step forward, but I stopped him with my hand. The butterfly’s expression changed as he watched Zetak’s reaction. It wasn’t hostility that appeared on his face, but something else – pity. Sympathy. The kind of look you might give to a pitiful child. The lazy expression he had worn before now carried a weight of pain as he looked at Zetak. 

“Judging by that reaction, I guess not. What are you two then? Did you pledge eternity to each other? Made such a foolish vow?” 

“That’s not why we woke you.”

“Then why did you wake me up? You could have just left me to sleep forever.” 

“I was curious. When you were captured, it was clear you had the strength to escape – or so it seemed to me. But you didn’t resist.” 

The butterfly remained silent, his expression dark, almost desolate. I could guess the answer from his reaction. Whoever had captured him was probably someone he knew. His lack of resistance suggested a close relationship. 

Now I understood why Zetak had woken him. I also understood why he hadn’t mentioned this room during his testimony in the temple. It seemed he was looking for an example, a precedent, to show that monsters and humans could live together. 

Perhaps Zetak saw a part of himself in the butterfly. 

Perhaps that was Karial’s intention – to bring Zetak and me here. The thought suddenly occurred to me. At the time, Zetak was deeply concerned about his gradual transformation into a monster. If Karial had planned to show him a monster with human intelligence to shake his resolve, it wouldn’t have been a bad strategy. Whether the outcome was good or bad, if Zetak had seen something like that then, it would have been difficult for him to maintain his composure. 

“Earlier you asked why I came to the human realm.”

The butterfly began, looking at me. There was a sense of resignation in his voice, as if he had already given up on many things. In a way, it seemed tired of life itself. 

“Do you see this?” 

He moved his remaining half-wing slightly, scattering glittering dust on the ground. 

“When a flying monster loses its wings, it means one thing: its best days are over.” 

“…” 

“I got hurt pretty bad in the Demon Realm. I lost one of my wings, some of my tentacles were cut off… No matter how strong a monster is, the longer you live, the more likely you are to die. You get hurt in battle, you lose parts of your body, and eventually you go into decline. When I lost my wings, I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. 

I understood what he meant. I too had lost many limbs fighting it. Even my tentacles were few and far between. Perhaps I was past my prime when we fought. That’s why I died. The longer you live, the more likely you are to die – that was the reality of the demon realm. 

“When I realised that I was close to death, I stumbled upon a gate by chance. So I crossed over. Staying there would only have meant death.” 

The butterfly stopped speaking and looked down at his hand. Whatever experiments he had undergone, several of his fingernails were missing. Still, considering he had been in Karial’s castle for over a decade, his condition seemed relatively intact. If all he had lost was part of his wings and a few fingernails, he could count himself lucky. The wings were irreparable, but the nails would grow back. 

“I hid in the forest and lived there. That’s where I found a child – probably abandoned. The child seemed to be mentally handicapped.”

It stopped there, but it wasn’t hard to guess the rest. The butterfly probably took the child in and looked after it. It probably raised her in a cave at first. When it realised she wasn’t fit to live with a human, it may have wandered near villages, quietly observing how people lived. Perhaps he imitated them, building a small hut in the forest, gathering clothes for the child, foraging for fruit, and living quietly with the child. 

In the demon realm, the butterfly was deeply lonely. Whether he was aware of it or not, he suffered from his isolation. He had even tried to make me his subordinate and raise me until I developed feelings for him. In a harsh, unfeeling world where no one had feelings, he was the only one burdened with them. But he had no one to understand him, no one to share his feelings with. 

The butterfly must have learned something from its parents. It must have received something warm and meaningful from them. Before it wouldn’t have known what it was. But now I think I understand what it got from the child – what kind of emotions they gave it. 

“Was the child happy?” 

The butterfly looked at him and laughed hollowly. 

“How should I know? I told you, the child was mentally retarded. She couldn’t even express her own thoughts properly.” 

The butterfly’s smile was filled with emptiness. From that reaction alone, it was easy to guess how things had turned out. The difference in their lives – he raised the child and became attached to it. The child, in turn, must have seen him as a parent and followed him with trust and affection. Watching the child grow may have given the butterfly a sense of happiness. And then he lost it.