Kill Me

Not far south of Meridian Gate lay one of Di'an's most prosperous districts, where countless commercial quarters and grand estates clustered together. It was also the site where the Imperial and Prime Minister's armies had clashed that night. Many buildings lining the main avenue had collapsed, charred black by scorching flames.

Seven days later, Black Scale auxiliary soldiers were still organizing people to dig up corpses buried beneath the rubble along the streets. Though it had been brief, it was still one of Great Yan's most brutal street battles in recent years. So many lives had been frozen forever on that one night.

When the black dragon carriage passed down the street, most people's eyes held only numb emptiness. They merely followed the Black Scale auxiliary soldiers and knelt before the carriage.

At first, they had grieved. They had raged. But after grief and rage came nothing but numbness. They did not understand why the war that had taken their loved ones' lives had happened. They did not even know which side were the rebels and which were the heavenly troops.

The court said the Prime Minister's Mansion were rebels, yet it invited those very rebels to attend the grand ceremony.

The Prime Minister's Mansion said they were purging traitors under a forged edict, that the Imperial Guards were aiding a tyrant in his evil deeds. Yet now Crown Prince Yuan, whom they claimed had inherited the throne through a forged edict, was dead, and the True Lord had returned to the imperial palace—so why was Di'an City still under martial law everywhere?

The halls of power stood too high; they could not see through them.

Their strength was too weak; they could not resist.

The future was too dark; numbness was all they had left.

A bleak, frigid wind