The Franco-British Union: The Trials of Time

Chapter 14: Down Goes the Emperor

A few minutes later...

5th of May, 15:10

The Great Chamber, Western Wing of the Mellowish Palace, Quistadoria Empire

     Alaric Quistadoria IV, the Emperor of all Quistadorians, rested his back against an overturned table as he took a deep breath, to try and steady his slightly trembling hands. He could feel the adrenaline rising within him because of the sound of footsteps from down the hall, slowly approaching his room from the outside. How were they suddenly here?

     He was the Emperor of the strongest empire on the peninsula, backed by the mighty HOE, yet here he was, a dishevelled and frightened shell of his former self, hiding like a coward from something that shouldn't have existed in the first place - The Franco-British Union. His mind slowly became a mess as the name echoed through his mind.

     Where was the hero Kimoto when he needed him the most? Where were his elite guards? Where was everyone? Alaric kept asking himself the same questions over and over again while the lantern, the only source of brightness in his room flickered and then blew out, plunging him into darkness darker than the darkest nights on the peninsula, so much so that even the sun rays, blocked by the curtains, couldn't reach him.

Alaric: [C] "Fuck... FUCK!"

     Alaric's emotions quickly turned from that of fear and frustration to that of sheer anger as his shout rang across the entire room, attracting the attention of those outside. And thus, the door flew off its hinges as four operatives led by Sergeant Ian Griffon, armed to the teeth with assault rifles and breaching equipment, clad in distinctive yet secretive black tactical uniforms, rushed into the room, their weapons at the ready as Alaric scrambled to unsheath his hidden knife, intending to rush the group of operators and take at least one of them down with himself, only to be violently thrown down to the floor.

Griffon: "Paladin, this is Bravo 6. We got the target over."

Paladin: "Bravo 6, this is Paladin. Roger, prepare for exfil, over."

Alaric: [C] "Get off me, you bastards!"

Griffon: "Roger, out. Oi, shut him up or I will."

     One of the operatives quickly nodded as Alaric tried to stand up and look at his captors in the eyes. He then made an attempt to break free from the operative's grasp, though it proved much harder than it looked as he was greatly weakened by the force of two operatives restraining him. Soon realising that his attempts to break free from their grasp were futile, Alaric decided to mock his captors instead.

Alaric: [C] "So this is what it has come to huh? It's funny, I always thought I would end my glorious days as the Emperor on the battlefield... Not in my own room within some dusty palace, especially by bastards that appeared out of nowhere like you."

     Gritting his teeth, Alaric steeled himself before continuing with his seemingly mocking and intimidating voice, although it only fell on deaf ears. He welcomed death, but he knew the Franco-British don't intend to end his life here, otherwise, they could've just killed him instead of throwing him to the ground. If such was the case, then there was no need to be afraid.

Alaric: [C] "Did you really think capturing me will end this war?! The bastards in Orientalis will never accept this and soon enough, you too will face their retribution!"

     Unbeknownst to Alaric, however, none of the SAS operatives could speak nor understand even a little of Spanish, after all, when would Toms like them even have the time to study foreign languages? All of them looked back at their sergeant, Griffon, who could only shrug and shake his head in response.