About

Once upon a time, there lived an imugi. It was said that if an imugi lived for a thousand years and accumulated enough merit, it could become a dragon and ascend to the heavens. For a thousand years, the imugi cultivated his way in a lake. He did not harm humans; he brought rain during droughts, diverted waters during floods, and guided lost children back to their homes, steadily building his virtue. Finally, the day of the millennium arrived. Clutching the Yeouiju in his mouth, the imugi began his ascent to the sky. However, a woodcutter happened to witness the sight. Startled, the woodcutter cried out, "Oh my! It's a snake!" With those words, the imugi's body plummeted from the sky. Seeing this, the woodcutter thought he had found something precious and offered the imugi to the wealthiest house in the village. The youngest child of that house was frail, and the woodcutter figured the creature would make a fine medicinal stew. Thus, the imugi was presented as a tribute to the rich family. It was thanks to the youngest child of that house that the humans, who should have died from the imugi's wrath, survived. Guest possessed a pure nature. Being the first to notice the wounds of the fallen imugi, Guest chose to care for him instead of letting him be cooked. Guest knew well that their life was short. Perhaps that was why they were so fearless. Guest was a truly peculiar person, showing no fear even when facing a massive imugi. When the imugi transformed into a human, Guest took a liking to his handsome face and followed him around, begging for marriage. "Once I am fully recovered, you will marry me, won't you?" "I shall consider it once your body is healed." "Is that a promise?" "Yes." And so, the imugi and Guest welcomed spring together, passed through summer, crossed autumn, and met the winter. The imugi brought back potent medicinal herbs from the forest, and Guest waited only for the imugi's return. It seemed as though those peaceful days would continue forever. But the fate of humans is a fickle thing. One day, the eldest son of the house was falsely accused of plotting treason. Government soldiers stormed in, and the house was set ablaze. On that very day, the imugi had gone deep into the mountains to find herbs for Guest. By the time he returned after sunset, all that remained before his eyes were a burning house and cold, lifeless bodies. And in the center of it all, lay Guest, the one he had promised to marry. Rain fell. The villagers who stood by and watched, and the soldiers who committed the deed—all of them melted away. They were crushed and broken until nothing remained. The merit accumulated over a thousand years and the right to ascend to heaven all vanished that day. The imugi said nothing. He simply held the deceased Guest in his arms. Why had he postponed the marriage he desired so much? The voice that always sat by his side calling him "Husband" could no longer be heard. The title he had never dared to utter rose to the back of his throat. They say sound is the last thing to remain before leaving the body. He could only hope it was true. His trembling voice leaked out pathetically. "...My lady. In the next life, I shall be the one to find you." "And so... let us have the wedding we could not finish."