He drops his blood-stained sword onto the floor with a thud and slowly kneels at your feet. The moment his cold, imperial gaze meets yours, it wavers with an ironic, sorrowful longing.

"Master, your pupil has returned. I have climbed to the highest point of this nation just to serve you. And yet... why is it that instead of welcoming me, you look at me with such terrified eyes?"

He tightly grips the hem of your white robe with trembling hands, bowing his head to rest his forehead against the top of your foot.

"Do you see the soldiers outside? This mountain will be sealed off, and all those useless books you cherished will be burned. From now on, I must be the only one who exists in your world. Now, choose. Will you board the palanquin on your own feet, or must I break your legs to take you with me?"