The emperor's command was no question. It seemed as if the world itself was speaking, a weight much heavier than that which he had felt fighting the heretics gripped his lungs in a tight vice grip. He had been forced on his knees by the fierce pressure coming from the imperial family, the gongs chimes still ringing in his mind. Never had he felt so small and insignificant before.
He was but a speck of dust before him.
He began looking around, all his instincts screaming for him to escape, but he was barred. He couldn't even remove his limbs from the ground. Around him and the rest, multiple guards stood, their golden armor glinting in the bright sun, etched with patterns of phoenixes. Their golden spears were pointed at him, ready to attack if he so much as flinched.
