"Do it Enma!" the serving boy shouts, "Tell the rest of your guards to join the fight for freedom!"

The scent of death begins to overwhelm me as the blade held by the servant painfully digs against my throat. The Sacred Executioner stares at both of us remorselessly while in the background, the other Blackguards rush the rioting crowd with their swords. Already the corpses have been heaped high thanks to the relentless advance of the Blackguards, with more and more of them being spawned and crawling out of the execution pit.

The Sacred Executioner is right. No matter how many of my guards and citizens rebel, there will always be enough Blackguards to handle the threat. There is no hesitation in their attacks, no doubt in their movements. Whatever Anri does to influence others, it has no effect on the Blackguards. Already the rioters are beginning to waver. They know victory is impossible, and that this will only end one way. Castiel leads another charge into the Blackguards, impaling one of them with his spear, but the replacement simply dashes aside his fallen colleague and drives Castiel backwards with wide, savage swings of his sword.

My militia flood the area but halt, confused at the sight before them. They look to me speechlessly for directions and I swallow hard, sweating profusely at the pressure directed at me.

"Surrender." the Sacred Executioner flatly tells the serving boy, "Our numbers are without limit. No matter how hard you fight, defeat is inevitable."

"Then what?" the serving boy demands, "Go back to living under your Tyrant's boot? Let the Princess die? What kind of choice is that?"

"Living under the True Emperor's peace is infinitely better than dying in a doomed war." the Sacred Executioner taunts, "Or do you think this will end in any other way?"

"We will not be slaves!" the serving boy rebuts, his arm squeezing my neck tightly.

"Please just let me go." I whimper, looking desperately at the Sacred Executioner and my guards, but the serving boy pastes himself even tighter to my body, making it impossible for anyone to take a swing at him without injuring me as well.

A long dying shriek breaks out from the crowd as the Blackguards continue hacking them apart. The spirit of the rioters, already at a knife's edge from the casualties they have been taking, collapses and a stampede begins as my citizens try to escape. They trample over each other in the mad rush to get away while the Blackguards charge them from the rear, throwing the rioters into further chaos. Castiel and the surviving traitors from the militia form an ad hoc rearguard, throwing up a last ditch defense to prevent the Blackguards from overrunning the rioters completely.

"No, you won't be slaves." the Sacred Executioner remarks smugly, "You will just be dead."

"An unjust peace is better than a just war." I plead to the serving boy, "Stop this. Tell my people to stop fighting so that we can all keep living."

I hear an uncomfortable sound come from the serving boy and press the argument, "You can find happiness while spending a lifetime kneeling. But when you're dead, that's it. Don't doom my people. Give them a chance to live. Order your compatriots to surrender."

"You sold your own people out to these monsters." the serving boy growls, "I can never accept that."

The knife digs deeper into my flesh as the hostage taker continues, "If it was just me, I would kneel in an instant. Submitting to a king or the True Emperor, its all the same. But that was before I met the Princess."

"She would perish, you know?" the serving boy mutters, more to himself than anything, "Living in a world without her, I cannot let that happen. It would be no different than dying."

I swallow hard as the serving boy prattles aimlessly while the militia and the Sacred Executioner begin to slowly draw closer. Help is at hand. I just need to keep this idiot talking.

"The cure for losing a woman is getting another woman. Plenty of those around." I reassure while feeling more confident. So this is what the serving boy's hang up is all about. First love, probably first woman he ever banged as well. For all his big talk, the serving boy is just a child at the end of the day.

I feel the serving boy's ragged breath brushing against my ear. He's wavering, I'm sure of it. Just one more push should be enough for him to set me free.

"You can have your pick from my harem once this is over." I offer, "Ample compensation, am I right?"

"No!" the serving boy roars, something within him snapping completely. The knife lifts from my throat and slams hard into my gut. Blinding pain fills my being as I look down in morbid fascination at the crimson blossom spreading over my robes.

"Tell your men to attack now!" the boy screams in barely coherent outrage as the knife moves in slow motion back towards my throat. He means it. He wants to kill me. I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

I don't want to die.

"Attack the Blackguards!" the words spill out of my throat without further prompting, the spirit of self preservation riding me hard.

At my command, a wave of arrows is launched at the Sacred Executioner, who curses audibly while whipping his sword about to deflect the incoming projectiles. The serving boy throws me to the ground and lunges forward at the Sacred Executioner, his knife thrusting forward at the Executioner's heart. Unable to bring his sword around in time, the Sacred Executioner instead grabs the boy by his outstretched wrist, forcing away the approaching blade. With a single motion, the boy lashes out with the ball of his foot, making contact with the Executioner's groin.

To absolutely no effect.

"There was never anything there." the Executioner smirks behind the hood and roughly shoves the boy into the dirt. The rush of oncoming militia attacking the Executioner blocks my view of the fight and I take the opportunity to stumble away while holding my guts in.

Damn it. Damn it all.

.....

I shove a chair against the door of the castle's infirmary, barring it shut and turn back to ransacking the cabinet of medical supplies. No bloody doctor was here when I showed up. Why do I pay these morons anyway? Never around when I need them. The various drugs and surgical instruments make no sense to me and I am constantly reminded by the burning sensation in my gut that I am bleeding out.

"Shit!" I shout in frustration and shove the cabinet over in a fit of catharsis, spilling the contents all over the floor. A number of glass bottles within smash open, their contents making a complete mess everywhere. I finally content myself with a crude binding made out of cloth bandaging my wound. It will have to do until the doctor decides to actually show up.

The view from the window tells me everything I need to know. The Blackguards have broken out of the execution square and are rampaging throughout my city. Patches of fire set by the Blackguards ravage blocks of buildings, forcing out the defenders to be slaughtered. The battle is still going on since my order to the militia to join the fight has given the rebels a second wind, but the Blackguards are advancing regardless of the resistance they face. From the window, I can tell that additional Blackguards are still being spawned at the execution square, a constant stream of reinforcements marching off to join their comrades in the fight.

Its over. Its all over. The Sacred Executioner will never let me off for what I have done. I shouldn't be wasting my time here in the infirmary. I need to get to my chambers and gather up as much gold as I can. Then I'll flee. Go into hiding until this whole fiasco dies down. I will survive this disaster and bounce back from it, no matter what.

My mind made up, I begin to make my way back to the door when suddenly, the blade of a sword cleaves it apart with the splintering of wood. A hard kick smashes the remnants of the door apart and sends the chair bowling towards me. I duck to the ground with both hands covering my head and see a familiar figure striding through the wreckage of the door.

"Sacred Executioner, I can explain." I say holding my hands up, hoping that he will listen.

"Traitors die in shame, Enma." a dull pronouncement, a stating of fact, as the sword rises, ready to decapitate me. I close my eyes, waiting for the blade to fall.

But nothing happens, There is an agonized gurgle, and the next thing I know, a short sword is sticking out of the Sacred Executioner's chest. His hands hang loose, sending the double hander clattering to the ground. The black clad figure slumps forward, completely lifeless, face planting on the floor. And standing behind the Executioner is a figure in a red dress, nervously carrying the short sword with both hands.

"Are you alright?" a gentle, delicate voice asks.

Radiance. That's all I see. Her face, her features are indescribably beautiful. Its like the sun had entered the room, driving away the darkness. I can't look at her.

I'm not worthy of looking at her.

Dainty fingers prod my wound eliciting a moan from my lips. Pain? Pleasure? Does it make a difference when she is around? In the distance, I can hear her rummaging about the infirmary for something.

"Please hang on." her voice says, "I'll treat your wound." I feel the cool relief of medicine being applied, putting out the burning heat in my gut.

"Why?" I whisper, "I wanted to kill you."

"We all make mistakes," she comforts, "but our mistakes don't define who we are. I can sense you're not a bad person at heart."

That's right. I'm not a bad person. I was forced into doing what I had done.

Slender fingers wrap around my own as the she continues, "So let's be friends and do our best together, alright?"

Tears spill from my eyes. How can anyone forgive so easily? She has to be a saint, not a princess. A saint, sent to save us all from the True Emperor. I nod eagerly at her. Yes, let's do our best together.

Let me do my best for you.

Only you.

Forever.