The wind whistled through the hollowed-out city, carrying the scent of dust and sorrow. Natsuki Subaru, his clothes tattered and his face streaked with grime, stood on a pile of broken marble. His signature tracksuit was long gone, replaced by the practical, battle-worn attire of a soldier. His right arm, a permanent black mass, was a constant, aching reminder of a victory that felt more like a defeat.
He looked over the city, searching for any sign of life, but there was only silence. The "King of the Royal Capital," a title whispered among the survivors, felt like a hollow mockery. He had "won." The enemies were defeated, the immediate threat neutralized. But at what cost?
Behind him, a light footstep crunched on the gravel. It was Reinhard, his usual pristine appearance now bearing the marks of a fierce battle. His Divine Sword, Astrea, was sheathed but its presence was a cold weight in the desolate air.
"Subaru," Reinhard said, his voice quiet, devoid of its usual heroic warmth. "We should return. There's nothing left to find here."
Subaru didn't turn. "Nothing left? How can you say that? This was a kingdom, a home for millions. And it's gone." His voice was raw with exhaustion and a grief he had no right to feel, yet it gnawed at him. "This… this isn't a victory, Reinhard. It's a tragedy."
Reinhard’s expression, usually so serene, was pained. "We saved the world. We stopped the Witch of Envy from destroying everything."
Subaru finally turned to face him, his eyes burning with an intensity that the Sword Saint had rarely seen. "And what did we sacrifice for that? The people we couldn't protect? The families that were torn apart? What about… what about that one child, Reinhard? The one you had to… to..." He couldn't finish the sentence, the memory a fresh, open wound.
Reinhard's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, a rare show of emotion. "I did what was necessary to protect you, Subaru. I am a hero. My Divine Protections dictate that I must choose the greater good. The life of one child, or the lives of all? There was no other choice."
Subaru shook his head, a single, bitter laugh escaping his lips. "That's it, isn't it? That's the difference between us. You see a hero's choice. I see a tragic one. You follow your Divine Protections. I… I just keep dying for the people I can't save."
The silence that followed was heavier than any miasma. The friendship, the easy camaraderie they had once shared, was strained and fractured. The weight of their final, devastating conflict was a chasm between them.
Suddenly, a voice, cold and filled with a quiet rage, echoed across the ruins.
"So this is the great 'hero's' victory?"
Both Subaru and Reinhard turned to see Emilia standing atop a nearby ruined wall. Her silver hair was unbound, and her eyes, normally so kind, were filled with a fierce, chilling hatred.
"You speak of sacrifices, of the greater good," she said, her voice trembling with barely-contained fury. "But for what? The throne is empty. The people are scattered. And the person I... the person I hate the most... is still alive."
She wasn't looking at Reinhard. She was looking at Subaru. The true cost of the "victory," the terrible truth that had driven a wedge between them, was finally out in the open. The grand tragedy had just begun, and the greatest villain, in Emilia's eyes, was not the Witch of Envy, but the man who had been her knight.