A rush of emotion courses through his chest, hot and searing. It whispers with the voices of the Burial Mounds: not the home it had become, but the dark, vengeful energy that nearly choked him alive. It is the rage that made him upend his work table and scream until he coughed blood his first week at the inn. It is the pit of the Ninth's eyes, welcoming him to step from a cliff and fall forever.

"Yes." Hoarse. "As many as I could. I would kill them all again, and again, if I were taken back to those gates, and it would still not be enough."

He tried to spare Yunmeng Jiang, of course. Even in the throes of his grief and madness, he would not raise a hand against his brother and the rest of his former sect. But.

"But somehow my shijie found her way there as well."