Single for Eternity
Chapter 96: Reason to Live

Chapter 96: Reason to Live

The jade-haired brat clicked his tongue in irritation, but to his credit, he didn’t retreat. He stood his ground—albeit swaying slightly—and his sharp, unfocused eyes began to scan the surroundings.

The remnants of what once might’ve been an ancient civilization lay scattered around us—ruined architecture, broken statues, crumbling columns, and rusted glyph-covered plates partially buried in sand and moss.

There was calculation in his gaze now.

It wasn’t just blind aggression anymore. He was planning something.

I narrowed my eyes.

’So, you’re going to play clever now? Sorry, but I’m not giving you the luxury of thinking time.’

My body surged forward, cracking the ground beneath my feet as I lunged.

The wind howled from the sheer pressure of my movement. My fist, encased in the ever-pulsing form of my symbiote, crashed into his gut with such force I felt his insides recoil. The sound it made—wet and broken—was oddly satisfying.

He jerked forward as blood sputtered from his lips, the scarlet droplets splashing across the ground like warped raindrops.

He fell, collapsing onto the stone-strewn earth, writhing like a dying insect.

But I didn’t let up.

I followed through—my body in motion, my instincts in command. My leg rose and cut across with mechanical precision, crashing into his ribs. The symbiote flared with dark, crimson energy along my shin and foot just before impact.

Crack!

The sound echoed like thunder, and his body shot through the air, smashing into a tilted obsidian pillar behind him. The structure crumbled on impact, pieces of black stone raining down as he slumped against the debris.

I could feel it in the strike. Ribs—definitely broken. Maybe two or three.

He squirmed on the ground, gasping, spasming like a fish suffocating on land.

And then—

Thud... thud... thud...

A deep, ancient thrum began to pulse through the ruins.

It wasn’t just sound. It was felt. A vibration crawling into my bones.

The tomb behind me... it had started to stir.

The dull thumping intensified, its rhythm slow yet oppressive—like the heartbeat of something vast and terrible awakening from an age-long slumber.

And with it came a sharp, high-pitched ringing in my ears. A droning buzz that drilled into my skull.

"Agh—damn it!" I growled, clutching the sides of my head as the noise spiked into an agonizing screech.

In that moment of distraction, the brat moved.

Despite his injuries—despite the damage he had taken—he bolted toward me like a man possessed. His twin scimitars glinted under the fractured light filtering through the broken ceiling. His aim: my neck.

Clang!

The steel-on-steel sound rang loud and sudden. But it wasn’t my throat that got carved open.

It was Simpy—my ever-reliable symbiote—who had materialized just in time. A dark, sinewy shield formed from its essence had blocked both blades with a sickening hiss as energy crackled on impact.

My head was still turned toward the tomb, still processing the unease blooming within me, when I reacted.

Smack!

My hand flew without hesitation, striking him across the face with brutal force. A blood-red imprint bloomed on his cheek as his head snapped to the side. He flew several meters and landed with a dull thud, tumbling across the uneven ground.

He writhed there, again, gasping for air, blood trickling from the side of his lips. His breaths were ragged, painful—each one a small war.

Yet... he stood again.

Somehow.

Scimitars lowered and shaking in his grip, but his eyes—they hadn’t lost their fire.

He raised one trembling hand and pointed a blade toward me.

His entire body screamed defeat, but his will refused to kneel.

I spat to the side, my patience thinning. "Why are you trying so hard?" I asked, voice flat. "You know I can kill you, right?"

He huffed, his chest rising and falling as if every breath might be his last. Still, he forced his lips to move, barely able to speak.

"There are... some things more important than life."

I raised a brow.

"Fame?" I guessed dryly. "Honor? Glory? All that garbage?"

He coughed, a bitter chuckle escaping him despite his condition. Then he shook his head slowly. "No... not those."

His gaze turned upward toward the half-collapsed ceiling. "I’m talking about... the reason you live. The thing that makes the struggle worth it."

Something about the way he said it gave me pause.

A flicker of curiosity passed through me. "Oh? And what’s yours, then?" I asked, voice lower this time, less mocking.

He exhaled sharply, collapsing backward onto the rubble. His body was done fighting, but his spirit... not yet broken.

His voice came, soft but resolute. "The people I want to protect. The things I want to keep safe. That’s my reason."

I stood in silence for a moment.

My lips parted, puckered to speak—but he beat me to it.

"I’m sure you have those too," he rasped, his voice dry and cracked. "Even if you are a Sanguis... you’re still human at the end of the day. We all have that tenacity in us... to fight for the ones we love."

I said nothing. Let the silence do the speaking for me.

His breath grew shallower. Each word now felt pulled from the pit of his lungs.

"We all have a reason to live by," he continued, his voice thinning. "And that reason... it’s always tied to someone other than ourselves. Always."

I stared at him, unblinking.

Something inside me shifted—a dull, cracking sound within my soul. I didn’t understand what exactly was being chipped away, but I could feel it. Some fragment of myself, eroding like stone in rain.

He didn’t notice.

His head tilted slightly, eyes lifted toward the fractured sky above. Green lightning cracked through the them like veins across a dying heart. A haunting storm loomed overhead, indifferent to our struggle.

"I have my family," he whispered, as if speaking a prayer to the gods. "My friends. Their memories, their hopes... I fight to protect them. That’s my reason. That’s why I’m here."

"Sovereign Trial," he said, the name tasting like ambition on his tongue. "If I pass it... I’ll get into one of the top academies. I’ll grow stronger. Strong enough to protect them all—when calamity comes knocking again... I’ll be there."

His voice had softened into something blissful, like he was already imagining the faces of those who’d smile back at him.

"I want them to be proud of me."

Something stirred within me. Against my better judgment, a question slipped out before I could stop it.

"What would you get then?"

He turned his head slightly, eyes meeting mine. "Satisfaction," he said simply. "Happiness. Knowing they’re safe. Seeing their proud faces... that’s enough for me."

I frowned.

"That’s the only way?" I asked, voice quiet. "Is that the only way to find happiness?"

His brow furrowed, suspicion creeping in. "Are you trying to imply something?"

I stepped forward, closing the gap between us. He was still lying on the ground, propped awkwardly against cracked stone. His scimitars had slipped from his hands. He was vulnerable. And yet his gaze didn’t waver.

I loomed over him.

"I’m just asking a question," I said softly. "Is that the only path to joy? To cling to someone else’s smile?"

His frown deepened, but to his credit, he still responded.

"Of course there are other ways. Everyone finds happiness differently. But... this one feels the most real to me."

I studied his face. Not just his words, but the convictions behind them. He wasn’t lying. There was no deceit in his tone. Just simple, unshakable belief.

And yet...

I wasn’t looking at him anymore. My vision blurred, clouded by thoughts far older than this fight, far colder than this conversation. Echoes from my past—my real past.

One I’d left behind, or tried to. My mind flickered with memories: abandonment, betrayal, hunger, blood... the kind of truths that strip away illusions like a blade to silk.

Still staring, I asked him one final question.

"Then tell me—truthfully. What do you desire? Not for others. Not for their pride or praise or peace. What do you want, for yourself?"

He met my gaze.

Despite the pain, despite the bleeding and shattered bones, there was clarity in those eyes. Determination, tinted with innocence. A jade flame that refused to flicker out.

"I desire their happiness. That’s what I want," he answered, without hesitation.

I crouched beside him.

My hand reached out, slowly, and gently brushed his cheek.

His body tensed.

He recoiled from my touch, disgust and confusion flashing in his eyes. I ignored it.

"Are all humans like that?" I asked, my voice calm—almost tender.

His lips twisted into a grimace. "Yeah," he muttered. "Every human cares. Even if it’s just one thing... one person. They always care about something more than themselves."

A beat passed.

Then I smiled.

It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t mocking.

It was serene—beautiful, even. A smile that could be mistaken for affection in another life, in another version of me.

"Then I guess," I whispered, "I’m not a human."

My hand slid downward, from his cheek to his neck. My grip tightened.

Panic flared in his eyes. He tried to speak, to struggle, but it was too late.

With one final, ruthless motion—

CRACK.

[ +15 Exp ]

[ +4 points ]

His neck snapped beneath my fingers.

The light in his jade eyes dimmed, frozen in a mixture of disbelief... and annoyance.

Like he couldn’t believe this was how his noble story ended.

I stood, brushing dust from my clothes, ignoring the blood now staining my hands.

There were no tears. No regrets. No guilt.

Only silence.