Tower Of Trample -

The world, she knew, was not saved by the proud. It was saved by the kneeling, who learned to rise without forgetting the heel.

A flicker of something—respect? boredom?—crossed her face. "Most come for gold. Or revenge. Or to prove they are 'worthy.' You came to be nothing so that others could be something." Tower Of Trample

The heel descended.

You woke at the Gilded Gate, face-down in the cinders. The plague in your lungs was gone. In your hand was a smooth, warm stone—the Orb. But you did not remember the tower. You remembered only a feeling: the absolute, undeniable certainty that some forces are not to be fought, only survived. The world, she knew, was not saved by the proud