The palace walls stand locked, and the homeland has crumbled to dust. He is a captive monarch, enduring humiliation and concealing his edge as he enters the game with all his grace. He is an emperor presiding over an age of prosperity, falling in love at first sight and offering his empire as a betrothal gift.
He watches the court with cold eyes and secretly weaves a web. Loyal retainers lie in wait, and informants remain hidden. He advances with careful steps, waiting only for the winds to change so he can reclaim his land. He knows everything, yet destroys his own wings and quietly awaits the end.
One night, a palace coup changes the master of the imperial city. The world is told that the emperor has died and the nation mourns; within the palace, the inner chambers are secretly sealed. The histories are edited, erasing half a lifetime of devotion and sacrifice. The age of peace and prosperity endures, but who remembers that tender gaze from deep within the palace?
He becomes a sage ruler who revives the dynasty, his name recorded in the annals of history. The other remains alone in a secret chamber, growing old in silence. “I never blamed you,” he says, summing up a lifetime of devotion. The country and family betray each other, love and hate burn to ash; one song of the Imprisoned Dragon sings of all the sorrow and joy of the ages.
