The Tyrant's Pet

Modesto smiled. Although he didn't have foolish thoughts that they might save him, the prince's action moved him.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue," he whispered. "But... the third prince needs more reinforce..."

He couldn't finish his sentence as the remaining strength that kept him still slipped away from his grip. His body landed on the ground with a thud, letting dust ascend around him.

Enrique huffed, keeping his gaze on the old man lying on the ground. Aside from the visible wounds and bruises on Modesto, his blood and others tainted his armor. However, he didn't rush to Modesto but sized up the royal knights facing his entourage.

"You..." came out a shaking voice, gripping his sword until his hand turned white. "... have betrayed the land and people you promised to protect. I had no sympathy for the likes of you, no matter what reason you had."

His eyes darkened and the air between the two forces thickened. When a gust of wind blew past them, carrying the sound of death and lives from those who were still fighting and dying.

"Seize them!!" Enrique's voice thundered and followed by their cries; figures sprinting past him.

In a snap of a finger, another fight broke out until the sound of metals turned deafening. The guerillas and Enrique's strongest weapon were their will to fight until the very end. Despite the overwhelming gap in their strengths, they didn't falter and kept fighting with everything they could.

However, fighting spirit alone wasn't enough to save them in a war. This was no fairytale; every single one of them had families and friends they wanted to go home to or at least share booze with. But all the reasoning wasn't enough to make peace and stop this.

Only if the other forces raised their white flag or if every single one of them died would this war end. There was no other way.

"Ughh!!!" Enrique was sent flying, crashing on the concrete ground painfully. When he coughed, blood went along with it. But that didn't stop him from rising back to his feet with eyes burning with determination.

Even though they barely scratched their enemies with these royal knights' tremendous strength, they didn't allow their spirits to die. Another howl escaped the fourth prince's throat, bending his knees and lurching forward to the enemy who sent him flying.
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As the battle raged on, the outcome slowly got clearer and clearer. Every time they down a monstrous royal knight, tens of them would drop to the ground. Some died in one swoop, while others barely dodge death, albeit inflicting grave injuries incapacitating them to fight.

Seeing how helpless they were despite giving their all, Enrique ground his teeth and continued fighting. Since he was one of the best fighters in this group, he commanded others to drag their subordinates away. However, this order was easier said than done.

The royal knights didn't show the tiniest respect to them, as they would step on the dead rebels and even their own subordinates whilst fighting. When the fierce battle came to the boiling point and the Valiente continuously decreased in numbers, Enrique subconsciously accepted their fate.

'This is probably... as far as I can go...' the fourth prince held his breath, watching the royal knight before him swing his sword up. Standing in front of death's door, Enrique, although he took part in this revolt with all his heart, couldn't help but feel sorry for his wife and children.

He slowly closed his eyes, waiting for the quick pain before death. But the pain didn't come through. He slowly opened his eyes and furrowed his brows, staring at the royal knight standing in the same stance while holding the sword up, motionless.

"What...?" he whispered, looking around on instinct. Just like him, many of them were at the mercy of the royal knights. Confusion filled their eyes, staring at the royal knights, who suddenly turned into mannequins.

A moment later, all the standing royal knights took a step back, tossing their swords on the ground. Without a word, they leaped away, leaving their enemies with an enormous question mark over their heads.

"What... just happened?" Enrique stumbled back, feeling his bones and muscles softening from the fatigue and fear of death.

No one answered his question because everyone had the same question in their heads. What had just happened?

With that unanswered question in everyone's head, all they could see was the royal knights traveling at an unbelievable speed in a certain direction.

It took a moment before Enrique snapped out of his trance. "Reverend!" he yelled and hastily pushed himself from his spot, hearing Modesto cough.

<strong>*****</strong>

<strong>[ Inside the inner palace ]</strong>
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"What's going on?" Climaco murmured as he watched the royal knight he was just fighting to flee without a word. He also noticed the other royal knights around retreating. Just like everyone else, they were just as confused and baffled.

However, Climaco took this as an opportunity to proceed with his plan. He wasted too much time in here, and he still hadn't seen Roman and Ismael's shadows.

With that thought in mind, Climaco hurriedly went straight to places where Joaquin could be 'hiding.'

After many twists and turns, checking every area that Joaquin might use, Climaco nearly bumped into someone when he made a left turn. Thanks to his fast reflexes, he was able to stop on time.

"What..." came out a careful voice, slowly raising his head only for his eyes to dilate. "Your Highness?"

His brows creased as he narrowed his eyes to make sure the person looking down on him was Roman. After all, the seventh prince he knew had this huge scar across his eyes and a new deep one on his cheek. But this man had none. If anything, he looked... way younger than the usually disgruntled appearance Roman had.

If not for the color of his hair and the signature silver eyes of the royal Imperial family, Climaco would surely mistake him for someone else!

"They've gathered in the chapel." Climaco's back stiffened when Roman's familiar voice came out of the person's mouth. "Her Royal Highness is also there. If you're looking for her, she's there."

"Huh?"

Roman didn't speak further, walking past Climaco without a word. His steps didn't falter even when Climaco called him.

"Have you seen the third prince?" asked Climaco in a hurry, staring at Roman's back while the latter walked leisurely.

"No, but he's in the chapel," Roman answered in a dawdle. "I'm going there."

Confused at the relaxed demeanor of the seventh prince, Climaco shook his head. Since he was already with the seventh prince, who was on his way to the chapel where Ismael was, he hurriedly followed him.

Little did Climaco know, the scene he would walk into was something he had never fathomed to witness in his life. And only then did he realize the reason Roman was calm.

The war... was over sooner than anyone expected.