The wish to live.
It was a right as ancient and sacred as existence itself—a truth that transcended species, status, and strength—the gift of life.
Every living being clung to it with unyielding instinct. Creatures great and small fought tooth and claw for survival, not merely to endure, but to extend their bloodlines, to carve a place for themselves in the great tapestry of time.
But beneath it all, there was something more profound. More primal. A yearning—not just to live, but to taste life. To savour its fleeting sweetness. To bask in its warmth, its chaos, its beauty. And in that, the Sword Saint was no different.
Despite his legendary power, he was still a man—bound by flesh, time, and the inevitable decay that came with age. The end loomed near, a silent predator stalking his every breath, waiting to rip away the nectar of life he had come to cherish. And so, his desperation was understandable.
For what could be more human than the longing to defy death?
