Climaco stood motionless at the chapel's entrance, watching a man slam a person's head inside a crate repeatedly. Every single monstrous knight under the crown prince, now Emperor, stood on the side doing nothing but watch.
"What...?" he breathed out, confusion apparent in his eyes. When he caught a familiar figure on the side of his eyes, Climaco turned, catching Ismael wincing about his injuries.
"Your Highness!" he rushed to the pew where Ismael was sitting, standing on the end of the pew. His heart thudded seeing the injuries the third prince inflicted. Ismael was barely recognizable — Climaco wouldn't recognize him if not for his voice.
"Ah, you're alive — damn, this hurt!" Ismael winced, pressing his side. At this point, Ismael could barely sit while leaning against the pew's armrest.
Climaco heaved a deep sigh, relieved that Ismael and Roman made it alive. But why were they in this chapel and everyone?
