The Tyrant's Pet

Minutes ago...

"Reverend!" Climaco yelled, seeing that a royal knight came up from Modesto's back. He leaped and blocked the attack without thinking twice, barely saving Modesto's life in the nick of time.

Grinding his teeth at the heavy metal pressing his sword down, Climaco screamed at the top of his lungs to force the reserve energy in him to shove the knight away. He panted when he successfully created distance between them and the knight.

"This is bad," Climaco mumbled in between his ragged breathing, looking around at the other knights surrounding them. The two of them stood with their back against each other, facing these monstrous royal knights. Both were exhausted from all that fighting, not to mention their fatigue and hunger from being locked up for days.

Just moments ago, the Valiente Group and the knight templars got the upper hand in subduing the royal knights. They sullied their hands if they must, since some knights were too loyal to the new emperor. However, just when they thought they got everything under control, these knights appeared out of nowhere and turned the tides for the worse.

Not only these elite royal knights were strong, but they were also faster beyond comprehension. The casualties in their forces grew aplenty, and now their morale was slowly declining. They weren't even sure if Roman or Ismael had already reached Joaquin or what sort of situation they were now in.

Everyone was just so busy fighting and surviving to be concerned about other things. All they could do was hope and trust that the third prince or the seventh prince met halfway to fight Joaquin.

Although with the situation at hand, Climaco and Modesto were certain... Roman and Ismael's fighting chance crashed in half.

"Reverend," called Climaco under his breath without taking his eyes off of their enemies.

"I'll cover for you," Modesto breathed out, causing the knight's brows to knit. "I had sinned and betrayed this land. Even if I am fighting for it now, it is not much to repent for everything I turned a blind eye to."

He glanced over his shoulder briefly and then set his piercing eyes on their enemies. "I will cover for you, so you... go and help the princes. They mustn't fall." His tone grew solemn as his eyes darkened.

"Even if we fail today, those two must live," Modesto added with conviction. "Go and search for them. Help them in any way you can... and if the situation is terrible, risk your life to save them. This land... needs them alive."

Climaco's jaw tightened as it sounded like Modesto had accepted the worst-case scenario. However, no matter how bitter those words were, he didn't have a choice but to swallow this fact with the current situation.

<strong>They had to retreat.  </strong>

"Reverend, even if the Gods cannot understand why you swayed from your divine oath..." his eyes showed resolve, breathing out through his mouth. "... but this pathetic knight does. My opinion might not be much and this sentiment might sound pretentious, but I'm certain those children the church shielded would be forever grateful."

Modesto's eyes softened as his lips curled up subtly. Not because he was moved by Climaco's words, nor the thought of the children's recognition. His heart warmed up only for the sole reason... he didn't regret deviating from the virtuous path. He did what he thought was right and even if it was cowardly, he didn't mind being labeled as a coward if that meant those children got to enjoy the peace the adults couldn't.

"If possible... don't die, Reverend." Climaco swallowed a mouthful of saliva before his heart rate calmed down.

Both of them remained silent for a moment, standing cautiously before the knights surrounding him. When Modesto yelled, "now!" Climaco leaped away. A knight tried to stop him, but with this great will to survive, Climaco was able to send him flying.

Another knight appeared behind him, but this time, Modesto blocked the attack.

"Don't look back!" shouted Modesto to Climaco, grinding his teeth, and was able to kick the knight away using brute force. "Go!"

Climaco glanced back and nodded, taking gigantic steps away with gritted teeth. He fought some knights ahead, aiming only for their vital points. He inflicted wounds on the way, but they weren't enough to stop him from aiding the seventh or third prince.

Climaco didn't look back even once, despite the sounds of metals erupting in the air. He knew once he did, his feet would turn and help Modesto until the end.

'I'm sorry...' he lamented internally, steeling his heart. To help him force his way through the knights, Climaco yelled and swung his sword like a madman.

Deep in the knight's heart, he didn't change. He was like Modesto, who turned a blind eye to the injustices and feigned mute and deaf. For what? For the sake of survival. But even if this wasn't about survival anymore — at least not the primary point — Climaco was disappointed at himself... and even angrier at Joaquin.

With a heavy heart, Climaco continued to flee the scene while Modesto stopped them with everything he had got. When Climaco managed to enter the inner palace, Modesto was already in the last straw.

Surrounded by monstrous royal knights, he panted for air, narrowing his eyes to see better from his blurring vision.

"I hope... he will not be late," he mumbled, smirking at the countless enemies before him. "God... I know I had sinned and there's no excuse for that. However... may you protect the innocent and grant them mercy."

His vision shook, his body reaching its limit. Just as he took a step, Modesto swayed, and before he knew it, his knees crashed to the ground.

He hung his head low, smiling bitterly, knowing this was the end for him. "At least..." he whispered, hearing the footsteps of the approaching enemy.

"I won't die pathetically." Modesto closed his eyes, waiting for someone's blade to come into contact with his nape.

"Reverend!!!"

Suddenly, a voice erupted in the already loud air, causing Modesto to open his eyes. The second the Reverend raised his head, an arrow pierced through the royal knight's visor, causing it to stumble back. Modesto furrowed his brows as he looked around, catching a group of men panting for air.

"Your Highness..." he called, recognizing the person leading the men.

The fourth prince, Enrique Imperial. Ismael's trusted vassal.