"Pain." That was the only sensation Yang could feel. As the sharp Bone Spurs continued to pierce his skin, the pain penetrated his very marrow, yet he couldn't manage to pass out, no matter how much he wished for it. In the midst of this seemingly endless torture, his consciousness began to fade.
Within the fog of his mind, Yang seemed to see the painted Dragon King slowly begin to move. As the mural on the wall started to shift, he suddenly understood. The black snake wasn't the Dragon King himself; it was merely the Dragon King's shadow. The real Dragon King lay behind it!
