"Move forward or I will break your legs and drag you!"

A boot connected with Wu TianLan's spine, sending him tumbling forwards. Pain shot through his ribs as if each of them were bent to the brink of breaking. Breathing in sharply, Wu TianLan barely stayed standing with shackles restricting his every move.

He looked at his hands through tear brimmed eyes. Hands which once were so delicate, only used for holding ink brushes and books, now had lost their subtle golden glow. His overgrown nails had darkened with dirt, and his fingers had nothing but skin hanging on the bone.

Cuffs weighed like bricks around his wrists, tugging at his already abused skin, tearing at them with every little movement. Tiny droplets of blood prickled down the dangling metal chains that connected him to the two other men beside him.

Even at death's door Lee SunLiu kept his head high, like a noble imperial general heading towards his final battle frontier. No fear, only determination, as his eyes looked on, staring at the ever-nearing podium as if it was a mere obstacle rather than his last standing ground.

Ruan AnChen, on the other hand, looked as haggard if not more so than Wu TianLan. His beard had dirt hanging to each strand, his well-fed body was now nothing but a shadow of its former self. He walked with grave effort, putting more weight on his left leg, limping along like a wounded dog.

Ruan AnChen, once the imperial historian, was now but a lowly animal in the people's eyes. Even at his most pathetic state, he still doted on the Emperor, hoarsely whispering,

"TianLan, did they hurt you badly? You can lean on me if it hurts to walk."

TianLan shook his head in response. Soon, they would be relieved of their physical pain. A smile tugged on his chapped lips. To think not long ago, he commanded thousands of men, had the allure that even rivalled women, was now only the walking remains of his own shadow.

Black rings surrounded his mischievous eyes, cheeks that were full of life were now hollow and flaking. His once alluring stubble had grown out like weeds.

How the mighty have fallen, Wu TianLan mused over the irony of the situation.

"What the hell are you smiling at?"

This time, the kick hit the back of Wu TianLan's knee, sending him crumbling down to a heap of dirt, man, and rags. As he gasped for air, another kick landed on his stomach, rearranging his intestines. He painfully rolled on his back.

Blow after blow, he was kicked around, unable to breathe, desperately trying to shield his abdomen with his frail arms.

"Get up! You two! Keep walking! If he doesn't stand up, then you drag him along like the dog he is!"

"TianLan, stand up!"

Ruan AnChen's words pierced through Wu TianLan's thumping pain and inch by inch, he crawled upon his knees and elbows, enduring each painful kick to his sides along the way. When he finally got to stand up, his legs went numb. He waddled a few steps and dived towards the ground again.

Strong arms caught him in time and held him steady. As he looked up, Lee SunLiu was by his side, nodding encouragingly. With great effort, SunLiu helped him forward.

As they reached the centre of the podium, all three men were forced down on their knees. A fire was lit on one side of the podium. The three looked on as scrolls after scrolls of the legacy of Wu was being burned, ridding the world of the name Wu TianLan for good. He was as good as never having existed.

Across from them, on a little ledge, sat none other than Lang YangZhou. The bastard dared to lament the three as if he was the one who brought an end to their reign.

"Wu TianLan, just tell me where Wang ZhiYi and the girls are hiding, and maybe I can spare your pitiful life." Lang YangZhou said, his eyes heavy with distraught. But at the depths of his beady eyes, a chance of seeing Wu TianLan on his knees brought pleasure to him.

"Just kill us already, or is this a new form of torture? Listening to your grating voice?" Ruan AnChen spat. For that, AnChen was kicked to the ground and dragged back up by his thinning hair, making him squirm and grit his teeth.

The gathered crowd cheered at their mistreatment. They deserved no better than to be stomped to the ground! A punch of filthy dogs!

TianLan raised his gaze to look YangZhou in the eyes. Even now, kneeling in front of hundreds of people, he somehow managed to look down on the other man, with nothing but disgust in his eyes.

"Why look for them when far disgusting creatures deserving of death sit right in front of me?"

YangZhou slammed the table before him, his face slowly turning red. The crowd howled with him. "If it wasn't for you and your wanton ways, you would still be the Emperor! Thousands of lives would've been spared!"

"Slander!" TianLan spat.

"Ever since you brought Wang ZhiYi to the palace, only death and destruction has followed! Now tell me where he and the rest are if you still wish to live!"

Wu TianLan's shoulders quivered uncontrollably as he laughed at YangZhou's words.

"And what do you think you will do with that information?" Wu TianLan's lips were still carved in a smirk, but his glare could have frozen the sea. "Do you think it is wise to look for him? Have you forgotten what happened the last time you two crossed paths?"

YangZhou turned beet purple as he clasped the remaining stump which was all that was left of his foot.

"So you wish to die, TianLan?"

"I'm not scared."

"So be it then." YangZhou motioned with his hands, and the sound of blades dragging along the ground approached the kneeling men.

TianLan let his eyes wander to the crowd, over the faces that held nothing but hatred in their eyes and hearts. As the three executioners aligned behind them, TianLan turned towards YangZhou for the last time.

"After everything you did, you still couldn't sit on the throne. Just a lowly cripple." TianLan mocked.

Hot blood spattered over him from both sides, as Ruan AnChen's and SunLiu's heads rolled over and stopped at his knees. Wu TianLan let out a bitter laugh as he gazed at the remains of the only brothers he ever had, lying lifeless beside him. A rusty smell of blood filled the air.

"Mark my words, Lang YangZhou. You will forever be nothing more than a servant dog!"

The cold edge of the metal brushed against TianLan's neck, sending his head rolling to the ground, stopping at the edge of the podium. His wide, dead eyes still stared at YangZhou.

"Spread the word! That mutt, Wu TianLan, is dead!"