(A/N: Decided to upload early, so yeah all better give me powerstones!)
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{3rd Pov}
Two full days had passed since Subaru's intense and chaotic battle had come to an end.
Back in the Capital of Lugunica, the air was thick with smoke, uncertainty, and dread.
Emergency response efforts were underway, and the local authorities, along with military officials and nobles, were working around the clock to assess the scale of the destruction.
Reports detailing the number of dead, injured, missing, and displaced citizens were being compiled with every passing hour.
The level of devastation was unlike anything the kingdom had ever experienced before.
It was confirmed that nearly half of the royal capital had been reduced to rubble. Entire districts had been flattened, major government buildings and noble estates were completely destroyed, and the infrastructure that held the capital together—roads, bridges, aqueducts—had collapsed.
The death toll had already surpassed seventy thousand, and that number continued to rise steadily as more bodies were discovered beneath the ruins.
Rescue efforts were ongoing, but hope was fading quickly with every hour that passed.
And then, amidst the panic, confusion, and despair, another devastating piece of news spread throughout the capital like wildfire—news that made even the most battle-hardened soldiers and high-ranking officials freeze in horror.
The Sword Saint was dead.
At first, many believed it was a rumor—an exaggerated tale born from the chaos.
But the truth became undeniable when Heinkel Astrea suddenly inherited the Divine Protection of the Sword Saint.
The moment he received it, he was struck with overwhelming shock.
The power, the burden, and the unmistakable energy of the Divine Protection left no room for doubt.
Reinhardt van Astrea—the strongest warrior in the kingdom, the ultimate symbol of invincibility and security—had fallen in battle.
Heinkel, already disturbed by the chaotic reports of a massive pillar of light erupting from the center of the city, along with accounts of violent quakes and energy surges, quickly came to a grim realization.
There was no mistaking it—that pillar of light had been Reinhardt's final stand.
Whoever or whatever he had been fighting must have been unimaginably powerful.
For the Wise Men's Council, who were already overwhelmed and struggling to maintain order after the partial destruction of the capital, this revelation was like the final nail in the coffin.
Many of them were stunned into silence, their faces turning pale with fear and disbelief.
Some, upon realizing what Reinhardt's death implied, seemed to lose all composure—almost as if their very souls had been ripped out of them.
Reinhardt wasn't just any knight.
He wasn't simply a talented warrior or a respected noble. Reinhardt was, without exaggeration, the kingdom's greatest weapon.
His strength was so vast, so absolute, that the very people who held political power in the kingdom feared what he was capable of if he ever turned against them.
There was a widely shared belief among both nobles and generals that if the entire combined military might of the Kingdom of Lugunica were to face off against Reinhardt in battle, the result would still be his victory.
His Divine Protections were numerous—far more than anyone could reasonably count—and each one of them was potent enough to make him a force to be reckoned with, even individually. Together, they made Reinhardt practically unstoppable.
To prevent any possibility of him going rogue or acting against the royal family or its interests, the ruling elite had gone so far as to create special legislation—laws that only applied to Reinhardt.
These restrictions were unofficially referred to as the 'Reinhardt Laws.'
Through them, his movements, decisions, and actions were tightly monitored and restrained, even though he had never once shown signs of rebellion.
As a contingency, they had devised measures that could be used to control or manipulate him. If things ever went too far, they planned to use Reinhardt's loved ones against him.
They would threaten his mother, Louna Astrea. In extreme situations, they were even prepared to carry out executions of his grandfather, Wilhelm, and his father, Heinkel, as a last resort.
All of this, simply because they understood one crucial truth—Reinhardt was not someone they could defeat if he chose to defy them.
Their only hope was to keep him in check through fear, manipulation, and emotional coercion.
But despite all these precautions, one thing was always certain—Reinhardt was their greatest source of power, and they believed in that power completely.
Whenever a mission seemed impossible, or a threat was too great for the army or other knights to handle, the solution was simple: send Reinhardt.
It didn't matter how dangerous the task was. No mission was ever considered a suicide mission as long as he was the one undertaking it.
Thanks to him, the Kingdom of Lugunica had confidence unlike any other. They did not fear invasions, rebellions, or even calamities.
Reinhardt was their shield, their sword, their trump card—an overwhelming deterrent to any enemy force.
And now?
Now that trump card was gone. Strangely enough, one might expect such an event to bring relief to some within the upper hierarchy—those who had lived in quiet fear of his power for years.
But the reality was far worse. The idea that someone—or something—existed that was capable of killing Reinhardt didn't bring comfort. It brought absolute terror.
Who could possibly defeat Reinhardt? What kind of being could accomplish such a feat?
If this enemy was a warrior from a foreign kingdom, that implied a force capable of wiping out the entire Kingdom of Lugunica.
If this mysterious figure was affiliated with the Witch Cult—then the implications were even more horrifying. The Sword Saint, the greatest champion of mankind, was no match.
Back in past, Roswaal had stepped forward on Emilia's behalf, bearing news of his own.
He claimed Emilia to have defeated several Sin Archbishops, and to prove it, their charred corpses had been presented to the council.
Given that Puck, the Great Spirit of Fire, was by her side, and considering the state of the bodies, no one questioned the validity of her claim.
The remains bore clear signs of intense magical incineration—consistent with Puck's known capabilities.
The revelation bolstered morale to some extent.
Many began to believe that perhaps the Sin Archbishops weren't as dangerous as previously believed.
After all, if a single girl—albeit one supported by a powerful spirit—could eliminate multiple Archbishops, then surely they weren't the godlike monsters they had once been feared to be.
They were strong, yes, but ultimately manageable.
That illusion was shattered when the Sin Archbishop of Pride made his move.
He did not simply fight a battle or carry out an assassination.
He burned down the capital of Lugunica.
The Wise Men of the Council were already overwhelmed, scrambling to manage the crumbling economy and prevent total collapse when yet another catastrophic piece of news landed on their desks—news that threatened to completely break what little order remained.
The death of Reinhardt van Astrea.
They were already at their limit, debating stimulus measures, emergency food supply routes, and how to rebuild half a city. But this? This was something no one had a contingency plan for. The strongest man in the kingdom, the one-man army, their ultimate deterrent against foreign invasion and civil unrest—gone.
For now, they had managed to keep the matter under wraps. Only the highest-ranking officials, royal family members, and members of the Council knew.
But the truth was a ticking time bomb. It wouldn't stay secret for long. People would begin to notice his absence.
The Knights would speak, rumors would spread, and eventually, the entire kingdom would learn the horrifying truth.
And what then?
What would happen when the world—when enemy nations—found out that Reinhardt, the Sword Saint, had died?
The very thought sent a chill through the room.
If the Empire of Vollachia or any of the other major nations learned that Lugunica had lost its trump card, there was no telling what they would do. In their current state—militarily weakened, politically unstable, and economically devastated—they wouldn't survive a full-scale invasion.
The room had fallen into tense silence until Miklotov, one of the elder Council members and known for his level-headedness, finally spoke.
"Before anything else, we must establish political stability," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere like a blade.
His words snapped the others out of their daze, but what followed was not hopeful brainstorming.
"Other than that half-elf girl, we have no Dragon Candidates left," one of the Council members grunted with frustration, slamming his fist lightly against the armrest of his chair.
"Are we really going to have to crown her?" another sneered, unable to hide his disdain.
The room filled with murmurs, and several heads nodded reluctantly. None of them dared to say it out loud, but the idea of crowning Emilia, the half-elf who was already a controversial figure even before the destruction of the capital, was not one they were enthusiastic about.
Her presence alone had always stirred political tension due to her resemblance to the Witch of Envy.
"Then what do you all propose instead?" Miklotov snapped, tone growing sharper. "Take the kingdom for ourselves and form a council of oligarchs? Or perhaps just elect some noble puppet and disregard the Divine Dragon's wishes entirely?"
That shut them up. No one had a response. The silence that followed was heavier than before.
They might have been powerful politicians and noblemen, but even they weren't ready to provoke the wrath of the Divine Dragon.
But one of them, eyes hollow from days without sleep, muttered something that made everyone's blood run cold.
"Why… why didn't the Divine Dragon save us?"
The question hung in the air like a death sentence. Gasps followed. Others turned to him in wide-eyed disbelief. He had just questioned their god. Their guardian. Their protector.
"You're suggesting the Divine Dragon abandoned us?" one asked in disbelief, his voice tight with anxiety.
But instead of backpedaling, the man elaborated, "No, I'm saying maybe it wasn't seen as a situation that required intervention. Think about it. We weren't invaded by another kingdom. We weren't at war with a rival nation. We were attacked by an individual—by a cultist. At the time, we still had Reinhardt. Maybe the Divine Dragon believed that was enough. And let's be honest with ourselves here… who could've ever imagined the capital would be destroyed by a single person?"
He paused, letting his words sink in.
That "single person" wasn't just anyone.
He was the one responsible for the destruction of the capital.
He was the one who murdered Royal Candidate Anastasia in cold blood.
He was the one who eliminated Felt, the only other Dragon Candidate protected by the Sword Saint's legacy.
He was the one who plunged the entire Kingdom of Lugunica into a darkness it had never known.
The Sin Archbishop representing Pride—Natsuki Subaru.
His corpse had been recovered and thoroughly inspected by both knights and medical experts. Shockingly, the healers and mages reported that, by all measurable standards, the man's body was no more durable or enhanced than that of an average human being.
Physically, he was weak—laughably so. He had no divine protections.
No significant magical aptitude. Nothing that marked him as a threat.
And yet he had done all of this.
The Council, unwilling to accept the terrifying reality that a man of such ordinary build and talent had nearly brought down the entire kingdom, quickly clung to the only explanation that let them sleep at night.
They told themselves that his power had not come from skill or planning, but from the Witch's influence. That his actions were enabled through mysterious and incomprehensible blessings granted by Satella—the Witch of Envy.
The matter was closed then and there. It had to be. To acknowledge that an ordinary man had torn their kingdom apart would be to admit their own weakness, and the fragility of the systems they built their power upon.
"For now, let us prioritize the immediate," Miklotov said at last, breaking the silence once more. "We must focus on managing the damage, securing the surviving population, and above all else—prepare to crown Lady Emilia."
His voice carried authority and calm, though every word was carefully measured.
"If we do not restore political structure and stability quickly," he continued, "then the Kingdom of Lugunica is doomed. It will collapse from within before any foreign army even lifts a sword. And while it's true she lacks experience, she is all we have. Therefore, we must take responsibility. We must guide her… support her."
A few members of the Council nodded solemnly, others simply sighed in resignation. But beneath Miklotov's composed exterior, there was a clear subtext in his words—one that did not go unnoticed.
He was suggesting that Emilia, the half-elf, the so-called final Dragon Candidate, would serve not as a true monarch, but as a symbolic figurehead. Someone who would wear the crown and sit on the throne, yes, but who would hold no real authority. Decisions would still be made by the Council. Policies would still be drafted and enacted by them. Emilia would simply be the one to approve them publicly.
She would be Queen in name only. No more powerful than a particularly influential noble.
This was the only way they could make the rest of the nobility accept her rule without inciting rebellion. Miklotov knew it wasn't fair to her. He was fully aware that Emilia would be walking into a throne filled with manipulation, backroom politics, and power games. But at this point, fairness was a luxury they could no longer afford.
The Kingdom needed a ruler. Not tomorrow. Not next month. Now.
And this—this—was the only way they could ensure it happened without tearing what remained of the kingdom apart.
To be continued...
(A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! From now onwards you will get only 2-3 chaps per week, I will make a schedule after two or three weeks.
Also those who pay 20 dollars will now get upto 35 advance chaps of this fic!
And just you know recent chaps have been very big like over 3k words, with several above 5k words and average of 4k words, you can ask any Royal Member from discord, they are the guys with both Patreon and devoted roles.
You can start as low as for 2.5 dollars.
Though I will recommend the 5 dollar respected member membership.
Of course majority are actually on 15 dollar membership, hehe.
The available quota for the 20 dollar membership will increase to 5 on 5th of this month, so you better grab that! Otherwise it will be sold out!)