Surrounded by the fallen remains of the Imperial Palace, two men stood in place—one was kneeling, while the other stood straight and tall, looking down at the man in front of him.
The man who was standing, Raymond, glared at the fallen Emperor before him…
"Two years," he uttered.
"For two years, you've done all that you could to unify the warring Kingdoms in this continent and forged yourself an Empire."
He then leaned closer, wanting to get a good look at the Emperor's wounded face.
"But what of it now?"
He grabbed his hair—
"What's left?"
—twisting it, before pulling it up.
"Thirty days, it took."
And with eyes, now locked together—
"Thirty days, and it all came crumbling down."
—Raymond spat on the Emperor's face before pushing him to the ground.
"What?" He then asked, voice, dropping with sarcasm.
"Did you really think those Kingdoms would be able to let their animosity towards each other fade away? Just like that?"
Clenching his fist, he asked, a tinge of fury in his voice.
"Your pride blinded you."
Feeling something inside him stir, the Emperor raised his head, staring blankly at Raymond, who continued,
"You did not see that behind your strict rule, the discontent of the people continued to rise. Your strength, as overwhelming as it was, was not enough to quell the hatred your vassals had towards each other."
Raymond raised his fists—
"They wished for blood, but you would not allow it."
—and punched the Emperor's face, spewing blood all over the pristine, marble floor.
"They wished for death, but you would not let it come."
He then punched him again—
"Their discontent turned into hate, their hate turned into malice, and their malice led them to me…"
Raymond punched his face—
"And now, here you are…"
Over…
"Fallen..!"
And over!
"Crippled..!"
And over—!
"And weak..!"
And over again—!!
"So what will you do now, oh gracious Emperor?" He asked.
The Emperor, bloody and limp, said nothing, and simply kept his silence.
"You've lost."
Raymond looked around them, at the crumbling walls of the Emperor's once glorious palace.
"Your empire is no longer yours," he growled.
"And your people? None of them have the desire to let you live."
Raymond grasped the hilt of his sword and pointed it at the Emperor's neck, asking,
"Any last words?"
Silence ensued for a while, as the Emperor—bleeding—stayed kneeling on the floor, slowly feeling whatever power left inside him fading away. He then raised his head, with eyes, bloodshot—glaring at the man before him, and uttered…
"Belial, heed my call."
A flash of crimson light quickly followed, dyeing the crumbling palace in red.