Chapter 99
"We are afraid, The Silent One. We are very afraid. Every night, we cannot sleep peacefully because we fear our father will enter our room and kill us in our sleep. Please, we cannot live like this anymore. Please, protect us."
Huan Zheng watched all of it without saying a single word.
Without murmuring anything.
Without moving even a single finger, even though Ling Xu, who still held him, could feel the man's entire body trembling.
Like a leaf shaken by a violent autumn wind.
Like the string of a harp plucked too hard until it nearly snapped.
Like someone holding back tears because he does not want to appear weak in front of the enemy who has destroyed his life.
His wide-open eyes no longer reflected anger.
No longer reflected disbelief.
But emptiness.
Void.
Like a night sky without stars.
Like an ocean without waves.
Like a soul that has lost everything it once loved and no longer knows what to do except keep breathing, because breathing is the only thing left.
The Silent One clenched his fist, and the star-made reconstruction of life vanished instantly.
Like mist swallowed by the morning sun.
Like a dream forgotten upon waking.
Like hope that dies because no one cares to nurture it.
He looked at Huan Zheng, who still lay weak in Ling Xu's lap.
Whose eyes were still empty and hollow.
Whose body was still trembling violently.
And with a voice no longer filled with horrifying delight, no longer flat and empty, but soft—very soft—like a mother stroking the hair of her sick child, like a lover whispering in their partner's ear in the silence of midnight, he spoke.
"So, what do you think now, The Lazy One? Do you still consider me a liar? Do you still believe that your beloved wife and children could never do something like this to you? Do you still want to defend them, protect them, die for them, after you have seen with your own eyes how they willingly came to me, how they willingly offered themselves as bait in my plan, how they willingly sacrificed you for their own sake?"
Huan Zheng did not answer.
He could not answer.
Because moments before The Silent One finished speaking, moments before the final question left the mouth of the man he once considered a brother, his body—already weakened by the previous attacks, already shattered by the betrayal he had just witnessed, already devoid of even the smallest strength to move a finger or draw a breath—finally gave in.
His eyes, still wide open, slowly closed.
Not because of sleepiness.
Not because of laziness.
But because his consciousness, no longer able to bear the weight of everything he had heard and seen, chose to rest.
For a while.
To forget that in this cruel world, the family he had fought for all this time—
The family he had protected with near-mad devotion.
By sacrificing his sleep.
By sacrificing his comfort.
By sacrificing everything—
Had driven a sharp blade into his back.
Not once.
Not twice.
But over and over again.
In the deepest place.
In the most painful place.
In a wound that would never heal, even if he were given ten thousand more years.
And within his heart, amidst his fading consciousness, within the darkness creeping from the edges of his mind, Huan Zheng murmured.
His inner voice was no longer angry.
No longer sad.
No longer disappointed.
But empty.
Hollow.
Like the surface of a lake that has not been disturbed for far too long.
"I never thought… That the family I have fought for all this time… That I have protected all this time… That I have loved with all my soul… Would turn out… would turn out…"
He did not finish his sentence.
Because he did not need to.
Ling Xu shook Huan Zheng's shoulders as he lay limp in his lap.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
With movements that grew more frantic.
More desperate.
Because he did not know whether the man had fainted, or died, or was trapped somewhere between the two in a place no one could reach—not even the Cancer plague dwelling within him.
"Huan Zheng… Huan Zheng, wake up… don't be like this… don't…" he whispered, his voice breaking, wet, like a harp string snapping in the middle of the most beautiful melody.
And the tears of light that continued to flow from the hollow sockets of his eyes now drenched Huan Zheng's entire face.
Soaking his furrowed brow.
His cheeks stained with dust and ash.
His pale, cracked lips.
As if with those tears, he wished to wash away every unseen wound, every pain that could not be spoken, every betrayal that could never be forgiven even if he were given a thousand more years.
But before he could make the fourth shake, before his trembling hand could touch Huan Zheng's shoulder again, Pendiam's flat and cold voice cut through the silence.
Not with mockery.
Not with laughter.
But with something that strangely sounded like advice.
Like a warning.
Like a faint remnant of humanity still lingering in the darkest corner of a heart rotted by power and greed.
"Stop, Ling Xu," Pendiam said, his voice no longer filled with horrifying delight, no longer soft in a sickening way, but flat and empty—like the surface of a lake left undisturbed for too long.
Yet beneath that flatness, something moved.
Something that might be called understanding by those who still believe that even enemies can understand each other's suffering.
"He is not dead. He just… needs time. Time to accept all of this. Time to realize that the people he loves most have chosen to live without him. Time to grieve a loss he will never be able to replace. No matter how many enemies he kills. No matter how many universes he saves. No matter how many sacrifices he makes."
Ling Xu fell silent.
His hand, which had been suspended in the air, slowly dropped to his side like a leaf falling in an endless autumn.
And for a moment, he could only sit there in silence, holding Huan Zheng who still lay weak in his lap.
Feeling the rise and fall of the man's chest as he continued to breathe, even though his breaths were short and irregular.
Feeling his heartbeat, still beating, though no longer slow and lazy as usual, but fast, restless—like someone being chased by a nightmare they could never escape.
Then, with a slow movement—one filled with certainty, one that felt like a decision he could no longer bargain with, because he had sat on the ground for too long, been a spectator in a battle he should have fought in for too long, allowed Huan Zheng, who had always protected him, to lie helpless in his lap for too long—
He released his embrace.
Gently laid Huan Zheng's head onto the cold, dusty ground.
And stood up.
To be continued…