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{3rd Pov}
Was Natsuki Subaru truly alive?
Emilia felt a bitter pang of betrayal surge through her chest, her thoughts churning in a whirlpool of confusion and guilt.
After everything he had said—after all his endless ramblings, all his emotional confessions where he declared his love for her and insisted that everything he had done was for her sake—how could this be possible?
She had believed him. She wanted to believe him.
And yet, here she stood, with what should have been his lifeless body at her feet, hearing Reinhardt's voice echo in her mind, claiming Subaru was still alive.
She had a hard time accepting it.
Her eyes were fixed on his pale, motionless face, yet doubts gnawed at her heart. Subaru was the Sin Archbishop of Pride, after all.
The Witch Cult's Cardinals had always been known to possess unnatural powers—abilities twisted by the blessing of the Witch. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to believe he had some method of faking death.
"Maybe it was all part of his plan from the beginning," Puck muttered beside her, his voice tinged with cynicism.
"Perhaps he just wanted to pretend to be dead, to make sure you didn't question how someone capable of burning down the entire Capital could simply die that easily."
Emilia exhaled deeply, her breath visible in the cold air conjured by her own magic. "Puck… Sir Reinhardt has gone to find him. But the Capital is still burning. We can't just stand around. We need to help. We have to save everyone we can."
With a quiet nod, Puck complied.
Together, they encased Subaru's corpse in thick ice, preserving it, before covering it carefully with tattered cloth salvaged from the debris of ruined shops.
Emilia then turned her attention to the flames engulfing the city. Her heart was heavy, her emotions conflicted, but she couldn't afford to falter—not now.
She raised her arms and began conjuring waves of ice and flurries of snowflakes, using her magic to suppress the inferno consuming the Capital.
This time, she wasn't wearing her usual robe or cloak—her identity as the half-elf royal candidate was laid bare for all to see.
The devastation around her was beyond words. Hundreds of thousands had perished.
The Capital of Lugunica, which once held a population in the millions, now looked like a broken shell of itself.
It didn't matter that, by percentage, the number of deaths was small—these were people, not statistics. Entire families had been reduced to ashes.
Dreams extinguished in the flames.
There was no justification, no rationalization that could erase the loss.
Emilia moved rapidly across the scorched streets, commanding snowstorms and ordering Puck to summon icy winds to quell the blaze. Her relentless efforts didn't go unnoticed. Survivors and even soldiers began turning toward her, watching as she fought to save what remained.
Among them, Marcos—the commander of the Royal Knights—stepped forward. His armor was scuffed, his face dirtied by soot, but he maintained the composure of a soldier.
"Lady Emilia," he greeted, his tone neutral, yet respectful. "I'm glad to see that you are safe."
Emilia turned to him and gave a tired nod. Her reputation had risen significantly in the recent months.
The tale of her bravery, of her role in defeating the Archbishops of Sin—Sloth and Greed—had spread like wildfire.
The people had begun to see her not just as a royal candidate, but as a genuine protector.
Even she didn't fully understand the full extent of those events. When she asked, Puck had explained it was he who had slain both Sloth and Greed.
Roswaal, for his part, had allegedly hired mercenaries to eliminate Witch Cult remnants across the region. It had been a shaky alliance of convenience.
That's why the truth about Roswaal's betrayal had struck her so deeply.
To learn that he had, in reality, been one of the key instigators of the Capital's inferno—and an ally of the very Sin Archbishops they were fighting against—had been a painful blow. Everything she thought she knew about him was a lie.
To prevent widespread panic, Reinhardt had made a decisive choice. He struck Roswaal down, ensuring he would no longer be a threat.
Afterward, he told Emilia to remain silent about the truth. To the public, the official explanation was simple: Roswaal had been killed by the Sin Archbishop of Pride.
That narrative would hold and will become the truth.
But deep in Emilia's heart, she wasn't sure what to believe anymore. The truth was becoming harder and harder to recognize.
And if Subaru was still alive… what did that mean for all of them?
She didn't have the answers yet. But she knew one thing.
She had to keep moving forward, for the people who were still alive. For the ones she could still save.
In the current volatile situation—where Emilia's public image had transformed dramatically and she now stood as the only surviving Royal Candidate—her death would trigger catastrophic political unrest.
Priscilla, once her rival, had already been disqualified from the Royal Selection under the damning accusation of being a Vollachian spy.
That left Emilia not only as the sole hope of Lugunica's throne but also a crucial unifying symbol for the populace amidst the chaos.
This very reality brought a wave of relief across Commander Marcos's face upon confirming she was safe and alive.
"Commander Marcos," Emilia said with a composed yet determined tone, "please begin evacuating the citizens from this district immediately. I will allow Puck to release his true form—if only briefly. The sheer power from it will be enough to extinguish the remaining fires."
"Indeed," Puck added with an air of unshakable confidence, his small form floating above her shoulder.
"Do exactly as my daughter says. And while we're at it, let me share some excellent news. My daughter, Emilia—yes, that Emilia—has personally slain the very perpetrator behind this disaster. The one responsible for setting Lugunica ablaze, the murderer of Royal Candidates Felt and Anastasia... the Sin Archbishop of Pride!"
The declaration was like a magical shockwave. Everyone present—Royal Guards, knights, mages, even the dazed commoners—froze, wide-eyed and speechless for several seconds before chaos turned into celebration.
"W-Wait... is that true?!"
"She actually killed the Sin Archbishop of Pride?!"
"Praise the spirits! Lady Emilia is a true Archbishop Slayer!"
"I knew it! She's not a witch, she's the Anti-Witch! She probably dressed like one on purpose to lure those cult bastards out!"
The crowd began to rally, awe and admiration sparking in their eyes. Some knelt. Others cried tears of hope. Even the remaining knights who had been hesitant to obey a half-elf a day ago now stared with newfound reverence.
Emilia was taken aback by the sheer intensity of their response. She was about to speak up, to clarify the situation and perhaps temper their enthusiasm a little, when she received a telepathic message from Puck.
'Emilia, let it go. Let them believe it. You did kill the Sin Archbishop of Pride—even if it was a body double, or some trick. If they find out he might still be alive, their morale will plummet. But if they believe you've slain him, they'll follow you without hesitation. You can save more people this way. You can do more good.'
Emilia's eyes widened slightly. 'But… isn't that lying?' she thought, hesitant.
Still, she couldn't ignore the logic in his words. Puck had always been the one guiding her, supporting her. She owed much of her survival and progress to him. He had even slaughtered the Sin Archbishops of Sloth and Greed in her name. Could she really cast doubt on his judgment now?
She slowly nodded. For now, she would accept this role—this façade—for the sake of those in need.
Once Reinhardt returned and confirmed the true status of the Sin Archbishop, they could deal with the consequences. But right now, this belief in her might be the difference between life and death for thousands.
And so, the flames in the Capital were met with an icy resolve. Emilia gained the unwavering support of the public—knights, mages, nobles, and civilians alike. Her legend grew that day.
At the cost of becoming a puppet.
To be continued...
GIVE ME POWERSTONES!
(A/N: Look, I know fires can burn for days, and yes—half the capital is literally on fire. So Emilia's decision to allow Puck to use his true form, even temporarily, is tactically sound. It's also politically necessary. Think about it: if news breaks that Roswaal—a high-ranking noble and part of the Mather family, a name respected almost as much as the Astrea house—was aiding the Witch Cult? The sheer distrust it would create among the people toward every noble house could cause riots, anarchy, and potentially fracture the entire Kingdom. That's why Reinhardt took it upon himself to kill Roswaal and bury the truth for now. Emilia, under Puck's persuasion, chose silence—for the sake of national stability.)