Reign of Empires – Betrayal


By Robert B Cole

As one world falls, another shines bright. Reece, a man haunted by violent dreams and waking hallucinations, spends his days drinking to hide from his maddening demons.Now at his lowest, he is thrown relentlessly into the truths of his past and the fears of the future.As empires collide and the old gods stir, Reece’s next choice could decide the fate of billions.

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Reign of Empires is a unique blend of diverse genres from futuristic sci-fi to fantasy, that plays out on an epic scale, spanning different eras of time all colliding in the present. As a an advance alien race descend and ravish a distant world forcing the only surviving heir to the throne into exile here on earth, an everyday guy named Reece finally learns the truths about his past, and the haunting visions that have plagued him daily forcing him to the bottle.
Now with the remnants of one world and the last of his devoted followers behind him, Reece must find the courage to fight for the future of not just his world and the people he loves, but in a twist of fate for every single person here on Earth.
Excerpt from book 1,
Chapter: Seluthra Pass
The guns fell silent, flames roared skywards and danced into the night’s sky. Every part of the fort was scorched or burning, the defences at Seluthra Pass was an inferno of rage and death. The pass was strewn with bodies, some showing no obvious signs of damage while others would never be recognised or identified. The scene was horrific and the brave defenders of the doomed fort had put up an incredible fight but it had been a case of sticks and stones against metal and explosives. Only two things had managed to slow the I.D.S, first was the extremely well built fort with its well-built walls (half of it being built within the base of a mountain), the second was the Wolfern night attacks. When the pass fell into darkness Prince Aryon would send out his stealth hunters to slip into the enemy’s camp to sabotage their equipment and hunt down as many officers as they could, then slip back into the shadows like phantoms. As the siege went on though the stealth groups got smaller and smaller and the initial surprise of the attacks was lost and to make things worse the I.D.S pulled back the artillery and began a constant bombardment that lasted three days. The constant bombardment had turned the fort into the Wolferns very own crematorium.
As the I.D.S troops watched the fort burn and crumble seeing the fight finally won, a dark hazy figure appeared in front of the burning fort. No detail could be seen of this lone man who just stood there staring back at them his cloak flapping wildly in the wind. One of the I.D.S officers shouted out for the lone figure to surrender but his efforts were in vain, as he looked to his superior Commander Knox for some guidance as to what to do next. Then before Knox could give an order a loud beating began from the direction of the fort, the beating got so loud that it even began to drown out the noise of the fire consuming the fort. Suddenly there was a war cry, not since the second day of the fighting had they heard this but here it was again and now as they watched they saw the lone figure was no longer alone.
Prince Ayron looked around at his men, there was only seventy of them all tired and weary, many showing signs of injury and fatigue but they all howled loudly and defiantly into the night. Aryon bowed his head to a younger Wolfern who in turn saluted and began to walk away from his prince, fellow soldiers and friends to try and head south for the king just in case Koli never made it through. The prince watched him disappear into the darkness and glanced one last time into the black void of the night… nothing, no help had arrived, there were no reinforcements, no sign of help and no time to say goodbye. Aryon could hold out no longer, there was nothing left to hide behind, nothing left to defend,
one way or another the I.D.S where going to roll on past him. So this was it, one last rebellious stand with one order… kill as many as you can, especially officers. He turned his attention back to the enemy below him and gave out one last frenzied war cry and then began to charge down the hill, his men did not falter nor hesitate as they joined their prince in the charge. Knox himself was flung into action, he gave the order for his troops to form up, aim and fire. The crack of gunfire ripped through the air, there was a sudden feel of electricity bustling all around. Round after round was fired at the Wolfern charge. Some shots went astray but many found their mark, bursting through the Wolfern armour and tearing into and through their bodies, but it seemed no matter how many Wolferns fell there was another one in his place continuing the charge. As Ayron approached the first line of I.D.S soldiers a sudden burst of gunfire tore through his body, but he did not stop. His adrenaline was pumping, his rage was literally screaming from him, it was all that was keeping him moving. He slowed for just a second then leapt the last few feet straight into the enemy lines, his sword swinging all about him with lightning speed and deadly accuracy. Blood was evident on him now but whether it was mostly his or his victims was impossible to tell. Ayron waded through the I.D.S soldiers hacking, punching, slashing and kicking even biting those foolish enough to get to close to him.
Knox could now see Ayron ploughing his way through his soldiers and realised in that moment what his intention was. Knox raised his pistol and took a steady aim waiting for the right moment to let the prince have a piece of him, and then he was there, he had made it through all of his troops before him. He saw Ayron look up and fix his gaze upon him as he begun to run straight at him.
Ayron suddenly found himself free of all the intense melee that had surrounded him and he didn’t waste any time picking his next target. He saw the uniform of the commander and with a burning devotion ran towards the man, every muscle aching, his breath heavy but this was not the time to stop. To do that he knew he would lose this last chance and so, he pushed his damaged body to the limits.
There was a flash in front of him followed by a searing pain tearing into his stomach ‘Just a few more feet’ Ayron screamed aloud. Another flash from the man he ran towards and a new pain, a fresh pain that hit him just below his collarbone causing his left arm to fall limply at his side. A third flash as he felt a thump to his chest, but no pain this time… his body could feel no more, his charge became a sodden stagger, but still he refused to stop.
Knox stood his ground and fired his gun, three times he fired and three times this man, this Wolfern kept coming. As Knox went to fire a fourth time the sodden movement of the Wolfern suddenly sped up and he found himself standing toe to toe with him. A roar bellowed from the broken beast and a shiver ran all over Knox’s body. Before he could react the shiver was replaced with his own pain, Knox’s stomach became a fiery pain, his own intestines beginning to burst their way out and spill to the ground where he stood. Knox could do nothing to stop this final onslaught and was helpless as he watched the blade come back at him and into his neck.
Another swing and Ayron watched as he decapitated the man in front of him called Knox.
The head fell to one side and for a brief moment the body just stood there headless its innards hanging out for all to see until Ayron gave it a little nudge with his sword causing the body to finally collapse in a heap at his feet. The noise of the battle was fading behind him, the I.D.S troops nearest the prince just stood there staring, guns pointed at him. He could feel the world starting to spin and the night was becoming darker, an unnatural darkness. Ayron dropped to his knees, his chest heavy and the taste of blood filling his mouth. He was tired and Ayron’s body was dying, finally his time had come. As he knelt there with his enemy surrounding him Ayron stared into the darkening shadows beyond the soldiers and suddenly realised there was a large wolf staring back at him, it was time, his time. With all the strength he could muster Ayron stood once more with his sword held high and let out one last defiant howl, a moment later his chest erupted as a spray of bullets tore through his body.
The prince was dead. Prince Ayron, first in line for the throne now lay dead amongst his enemy. Those who had honoured their Prince and fought to the bitter end with loyalty and devotion, had all died the Wolfern way, with honour and courage but most of all totally defiant until the end.
Now the future of the Wolfern people lay with their aging king and the next in line Prince Krid.
The war had finally come to their land and it had come at an extremely high price. As the rest of the world was about to find out, the Wolfern’s are not known for their mourning nor their mercy.


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