The Tyrant's Pet

Hours later…

The Valiente rebel group was a large organization that was originally just a group of farmers tired of being exploited by the monarch. They were simply normal citizens wanting to get to what was promised to them in exchange for their harvest.

Things were peaceful at first, with the previous emperor clinching a proper bargain without giving or losing too much. However, after the death of the previous crown prince, Manuel, everything was put on a hold. Until the emperor's health started deteriorating and the new crown prince — Joaquin, an ambitious and cruel young man — was put in charge.

Left with dismay, the said freedom fighters fought for what was promised to them. But since Joaquin wasn't open to any of their plea, they had no choice but to take what was theirs. Over time, the said group expanded as more and more victims of the rotten ruling sought help from them.

For the poor, these vigilantes were heroes. But for those aristocrats, the group was the bad people who needed to be set on fire alive. The commoners, on the other hand, had a divided opinion; half believed they should just obey the law as it was futile and only bring terror to them, while others were somehow inspired to fight for the oppressed. There were small numbers who didn't care about them for as long as they weren't affected.

This was the main reason Joaquin had to work on his image and prolonged his patience with this group. One wrong order and he would be painted as evil and a tyrant.

But tonight… that would change, as the difference between good and bad would blur.

In the middle of the night, the most silent time when everyone was fast asleep in their warm houses, men clad in blank stealthily surrounded the bottom of the small hill, which was said to be the hideout of the core members of the rebel group.

Under the seventh prince's command, they made their way up. Each of their steps barely made a sound, aside from the constant cracks of leaves and twigs underneath their feet.

Roman signaled everyone to move forward, and the lead captain of each unit signaled others to advance. As they all advanced, they soon reached the crest of the low hill, and a tiny hut came into sight. Everyone was wary, seeing faint light inside.

All the knights in black to camouflage in the night looked around to make sure no one was alerted of this attack. When they were certain everything was going as planned, they waited for Roman's go signal. However, it didn't come just as fast as he would usually do.

Instead, Roman gazed at the peaceful hut and breathed out carefully. His eyes glinted because he made a gamble tonight, hoping he wouldn't lose this one. Because if he did… that would be his end. After careful breaths, he raised his hand as a signal to pause.

He looked around and sniffed the night breeze. His brows furrowed before signaling the front lines to approach the hut, and they did — as cautious as they could get. Roman remained at the back lines, watching people come closer and closer to the hut, guns and swords in their hands for any confrontation.

One knight stepped into the vicinity of the hut, and rest his back on its wall while crouching low. Peeking up at the window, his brows furrowed. To let others know what he was seeing, he shook his hand, indicating to them that there was no one on that side of the window.

One after another, they did what the knight did. They also signaled they had seen no movements from the inside. Assuming this was a little peculiar, they looked in Roman's direction to get his permission to raid the hut. The seventh prince studied the hut before giving them what they needed.

And with that, the knights surrounding the hut looked at each other and nodded silently. Wearing their courage and heart on their sleeve, the silence shattered with their shouts as they barged inside the flimsy door of the hut.

However, as soon as they did, only one person was inside.

The knights who were at the front line had their eyes go round, seeing a crippled old man sitting on an old chair. But his dying presence wasn't what surprised them, but the explosives on the table, which were connected with a rope.

Some knights unconsciously glanced at the burning ropes and saw them extend to the ground and outside.

It was a trap.

BOOM!

No one was quick enough to react to the old man's smile as something exploded inside the hut, taking out the crippled man's life in an instant. The explosives inside followed a series of explosions and while everyone on the outside was alarmed, explosions planted around the crest of the hill blew off one after another.

Seeing this and hearing his people's shouts and then hearing how their voices disappeared, Roman remained rooted on the ground. His eyes were fixed on the hut as if he was silently paying respect to a particular elder who sacrificed himself for this to happen.

After a minute, the seventh prince snapped and ordered at the tops of his lungs, "it's a trap! Retreat!"

BOOM!

Another explosion came off near the seventh prince's, throwing him to a distance. If he was a little closer, he would've lost a limb or two, just like the knights who were near the explosion. Limbs kept flying in the air while blood covered the small hill.

Shouts to retreat and cries for help chorused with the deafening blast that would come off every twenty seconds. Soon, fire engulfed the entire ridge as the number of alive decreased in numbers significantly.

****

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the hill, Joaquin watched the fire ascend as thick smoke reigned in the sky. The snow soon changed into black wools, blanketing the white frost with darkness. The loud explosions reached their ears, but it wasn't as loud for them compared to those who were on the scene.

"Your Royal Highness…" Hernan called from behind him.

"Don't let him get away." Joaquin turned on his heel as he sauntered towards his steed. "I won't let him die, just like he planned. I will kill him myself."

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