...
{3rd Pov}
Once Zero departed, the expected feeling of victory and unity that everyone had hoped for never came.
Instead of relief or celebration, what followed was a heavy atmosphere filled with suspicion and unease.
The members of the different Camps began to exchange wary glances, their eyes often drifting toward Subaru, their expressions mixed with doubt and caution.
Zero's final words before leaving had carved a deep and unsettling impression into everyone's minds, leaving them unable to shake off the unease he had planted.
According to Zero, the fact that nothing catastrophic had happened to his future self—the Subaru from another timeline—could only mean one thing: that their current Subaru, no matter what choices he made now or what path he took, was inevitably destined to become Zero in the end.
The implication was terrifying, suggesting that every action, every decision Subaru made, would ultimately lead him to the same cold, emotionless version of himself they had just encountered.
Even Subaru himself seemed affected by that statement, as he knew exactly where the alias "Zero" came from—the name belonged to a character from an anime he recognized all too well, which made the situation feel even more surreal and disturbing.
Despite the fact that Subaru had chosen to stand by them, despite him being the crucial reason behind their hard-earned victory, the alliance of the five Camps began to fracture.
The sense of trust and cooperation that had briefly united them started to crumble under the weight of doubt.
Each Camp returned home carrying not the pride of success, but the burden of uncertainty and mistrust.
Many among them continued to glance at Subaru with quiet suspicion, wondering if the person they now called an ally would someday become the very enemy they had just defeated.
In fact, the impact of this entire incident was far from over.
The consequences were only beginning to unfold, and once the Nobles, along with the other influential figures such as the Wise Men of the Sage Council, came to know the full details of what had transpired here, the situation would undoubtedly escalate into something far more dangerous.
Those people—driven by fear, pride, and the desire to maintain control—would use all the authority and resources at their disposal to arrest Subaru, and if possible, eliminate him entirely.
They would see him not as a hero who had contributed to their survival, but as a potential threat to the kingdom's stability and a living embodiment of something that defied their understanding.
This reality was something that the more politically experienced individuals among them—Anastasia, Priscilla, and even Felt—fully understood the moment the dust settled.
Their expressions alone showed they were already preparing for the inevitable backlash.
Only Crusch, who was still suffering from her memory loss, and Emilia, along with the members of her camp, failed to grasp the full gravity of what was about to follow them.
They didn't yet realize that what had happened here would send shockwaves through the upper echelons of the kingdom, and that Subaru's very existence would soon become a matter of heated debate and possible persecution.
When the group finally returned to their designated meeting place—the mansion that had served as their temporary headquarters—they were met with an unexpected development.
A messenger from the capital of Lugunica was already waiting for them, insisting on urgent communication.
Apparently, someone of great importance wanted to speak with them immediately.
The meeting was to take place through the use of the metia mirrors located in the mayor's mansion, a magical communication system reserved for official and high-level discussions.
There was no time to rest or even process everything that had happened; they were summoned without delay.
Once everyone gathered in the room and the meeting began, the atmosphere grew tense almost instantly.
The Wise Men of the Sage Council appeared on the mirror's surface, their faces stern and full of expectation, and without any pleasantries, they demanded a complete and detailed explanation of the events that had occurred.
Their tone made it clear that they were not merely curious—they were interrogating.
Emilia remained silent, her hands clenched tightly as she struggled to find the right words.
Felt, too, stayed quiet, her sharp eyes darting between the others as if measuring the situation.
Even Priscilla, who was never one to hold back her words, chose to stay silent this time, though the look in her eyes spoke volumes.
She gazed at the Wise Men with an expression that clearly conveyed what she thought of them—as if she considered them nothing more than fools performing a farce in front of her, rather than people worthy of her attention or respect.
In the end, it inevitably fell upon Anastasia and Crusch to explain the situation to the Wise Men.
The pressure in the room was suffocating, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. Anastasia, seated with a composed yet calculating expression, turned her gaze toward her loyal knight, as if silently debating whether she should truly reveal what had actually taken place.
She understood perfectly well that to say there would be no problem afterward would be nothing but a blatant lie.
The truth, if spoken aloud, would cause chaos.
It would bring consequences neither she nor the others could control.
The fact that the other three camps—Emilia's, Priscilla's, and Felt's—had all chosen to remain completely silent said more than words ever could.
Even the usually naive and overly honest Emilia, who was often too quick to speak, had kept her mouth shut this time.
That silence carried meaning.
It meant that as long as none of them spoke up, as long as they maintained a united front of quiet denial, no one outside the room would ever learn the truth of what had really happened.
More importantly, Subaru would be spared from being accused, arrested, or worse.
Revealing the full story would serve no one but their enemies in the capital.
Yet, beneath the surface, there was another layer of thought that couldn't be ignored.
Despite their temporary alliance, the five camps were still fundamentally rivals—competitors aiming for the same throne, each pursuing their own claim to the crown.
Political gain was always at play, and the temptation to expose the Emilia Camp and remove them from contention was undeniably strong.
If Emilia and her people were to be disqualified or branded as traitors because of Subaru, it would clear the path for the others.
From a purely strategic standpoint, it would be the most beneficial outcome.
But the moral weight of such an act, the betrayal it represented, made the choice far more complicated.
Should they truly reveal the truth and sacrifice one of their own for political advantage?
Or should they stay silent and risk the wrath of the Sage Council later if the truth ever surfaced?
Everyone who had been part of the battle was present in the room—everyone except for one man: Heinkel.
His absence was not due to convenience or choice but necessity.
The man was currently bound tightly with ropes, every single one of his limbs broken and rendered useless.
The handiwork belonged entirely to Priscilla, who had ensured that he would not cause any more trouble or speak out of turn.
Her method was brutal, undeniably extreme, but effective beyond question.
Even Anastasia, who prided herself on being a composed and pragmatic strategist, had to admit—albeit reluctantly—that Priscilla's ruthless approach had been the most efficient way to deal with the problem. It was harsh, but in a situation like this, efficiency mattered more than mercy.
Finally, after a long stretch of heavy silence, Anastasia made her decision—to say nothing.
She quietly folded her hands in front of her and leaned back, her sharp eyes scanning the others as her mind worked through the situation from every possible angle.
Speaking the truth here, no matter how justifiable it might seem, would only lead to disaster.
From her perspective, it was clear enough that Priscilla's camp—no, Priscilla herself—had chosen to side with Subaru, whether out of interest, amusement, or genuine belief in his worth as her future husband.
Felt's camp, too, appeared inclined to bury the matter, their expressions showing a kind of streetwise caution that said they wanted no part in spreading this particular chaos.
If Anastasia were to break the silence and reveal what had really transpired, the consequences would be immediate and severe.
It would effectively mark her as an enemy of at least two, possibly even three, of the other camps.
The balance of power that barely existed between them would collapse instantly, and the delicate alliance they had managed to maintain through the crisis would shatter beyond repair.
Even worse, she couldn't predict what Crusch would do.
The woman, though honorable, was difficult to read since losing her memories.
Her response could go in any direction—she might remain neutral, or she might condemn Anastasia for attempting to use the truth as a political weapon.
Anastasia was far too experienced to overlook such risks.
She understood politics better than anyone in that room.
She knew that even if she spoke the truth and laid out every fact, the moment the other camps denied her version, she would be painted as a manipulator—a schemer trying to twist events for her own advantage in the Royal Selection.
Once that accusation took root, it would stick to her like a stain, regardless of what was real or not.
To the public and the Council, she would appear as someone spreading propaganda and using deceitful means to undermine her rivals.
And in a competition for the throne, perception mattered far more than truth.
Despite her wealth, her intelligence, and her influence within the Kingdom, Anastasia was still, at the end of the day, an outsider—a merchant from Kararagi, not a native of Lugunica.
The nobles would never fully trust her, and the people would always favor those who belonged to their own homeland.
In the eyes of the Kingdom, if forced to choose between her and the others, they would undoubtedly side with the native candidates—Felt with her connection to Reinhard, Priscilla with her mysterious authority and confidence, and Crusch with her noble lineage and charisma.
Against such figures, Anastasia knew she would stand alone.
And so, weighing every consequence and every potential betrayal, Anastasia decided to hold her tongue.
Silence, for now, was the most profitable and the safest choice.
When the formal deliberation finally began, it was Julius who took the initiative to step forward and address the Wise Men.
His movements were calm and composed, though anyone paying attention could sense the tension beneath his polite exterior.
With a steady voice, he began to explain the situation, choosing his words carefully as the council of Wise Men listened in sharp silence.
It was no surprise that their first response was to demand a detailed and chronological recount of the events that had taken place.
The sudden attack of the Sin Archbishops, followed by the complete takeover of an entire city, was no trivial incident—it was a grave and urgent matter that demanded immediate attention, not only for the sake of justice but also to ensure that similar catastrophes could be prevented in the future.
Julius's expression hardened slightly as he received their order.
A faint crease formed between his brows, betraying the weight of the decision he now faced.
Across the room, Subaru and the others exchanged uncertain glances, their faces tense and eyes fixed on Julius.
The question in everyone's mind was the same—would he reveal the truth?
Would Julius, the man of honor and pride, expose what had really occurred, even if it meant condemning Subaru in the process?
For a few moments, the air in the room felt suffocating, every heartbeat amplified by the silence that followed the Wise Men's demand.
Then, in a move that caught even his closest allies slightly off guard, Julius began to speak again.
His tone remained steady, but there was a subtle shift in his words—a delicate blend of truth and fabrication.
He skillfully wove parts of the real events together with selective omissions and fragments of the story that Zero himself had told them. Julius explained that the victory had come as a result of clever planning, cooperation, and a fortunate twist of fate, painting the events in a way that maintained credibility without exposing the dangerous truth about Subaru's connection to Zero.
He elaborated the version of the story on how, in an alternate version of events—the "original timeline" Zero had spoken of—they would have ultimately triumphed as well, emphasizing that their current outcome was not a fluke but the result of strength and unity.
His choice of words, his measured composure, and his quick thinking had the desired effect.
The Wise Men, though still suspicious, appeared satisfied enough with the explanation.
The tension that had hung over the group began to ease as the others realized what Julius had done for them.
A quiet sense of relief spread through the room.
Anastasia allowed herself a small, approving smile, while even Priscilla gave a subtle nod, acknowledging the knight's clever handling of the situation.
Just through this single act, Julius managed to rebuild a fragment of the broken trust that had been hanging by a thread between the camps.
For Subaru, watching all of this unfold was almost overwhelming.
He looked at his companions—people who, despite everything, had chosen to stand by him rather than throw him to the wolves—and a deep, genuine sense of gratitude filled his chest.
For the first time since Zero's departure, he felt warmth instead of dread.
'Zero, you were wrong… They won't betray me,' Subaru thought to himself, gripping his hands tightly as if to anchor that belief in his heart.
However, what he failed to remember was that trust, no matter how genuine it appears, is as fragile as a deck of cards.
It only takes a single card to be pulled out of place for the entire structure to collapse into chaos.
And once that happens, rebuilding it becomes far more difficult than it ever was to create in the first place.
And that unstable, dangerous piece in the fragile balance of trust was, without a doubt, the femboy healer—Felix Argyle.
Among everyone present, he was the one person whose emotions were still in complete turmoil, barely held together by a thin thread of restraint.
The recent chain of humiliations he had endured had already pushed him to the edge.
Being publicly exposed for attempting to conspire against Subaru—his act of secretly planting a bomb in Subaru's gate to eliminate a potential threat—had not only ruined his credibility but had also left him burning with shame and frustration.
The revelation had destroyed his image in front of everyone, turning him from a respected healer into a reckless schemer.
What made it worse, what truly shattered him, was what followed immediately after. Crusch—his beloved Crusch-sama—had struck him across the face.
The sharp sound of the slap had echoed through the air, but the pain Felix felt was far deeper than the sting on his cheek.
In front of everyone, she had scolded and insulted him, her words cutting through whatever pride he had left.
For Felix, Crusch wasn't just a master, nor merely the person he served; she was the center of his entire world, the reason he existed, the source of his strength and purpose.
Every action he took, every risk he dared to make, every drop of blood he spilled was for her sake—so that she could stand victorious, so that they could win the Royal Selection, so that together they could bring justice and avenge their fallen friend.
To Felix, Crusch's acknowledgment was his life's meaning.
Her praise was his reward, her trust his greatest treasure.
But now, that foundation had crumbled before his eyes.
He couldn't process the reality that Crusch-sama—his Crusch-sama—had actually raised her hand against him, that she had openly taken someone else's side over his, especially over Subaru, the very man Felix had viewed as a dangerous outsider and manipulator.
The thought tore him apart from the inside.
How could she?
After everything he had done for her—after all the sacrifices, the sleepless nights, the countless efforts to ensure her success—how could she betray him like that?
The more he thought about it, the more his mind spiraled into chaos.
He told himself that she must have been manipulated, that this wasn't truly her fault.
But then, the cruel truth returned to him—Crusch had lost her memories.
She was no longer the same woman he had followed so faithfully, no longer the person who had once looked at him with warmth and appreciation.
The Crusch he knew was gone, replaced by someone who didn't even remember the bond they once shared.
That realization struck him harder than anything else.
As Felix stood there, silent and trembling with a mixture of anger, guilt, and despair, one emotion began to consume all others—betrayal.
He felt hollow, broken, and directionless, unable to accept the idea that the one person he had devoted his entire being to had turned her back on him.
And as that bitterness festered, it became clear that Felix's instability was not just a personal issue—it was a spark, one that could easily ignite the fragile peace everyone else was desperately trying to maintain.
Yes, it was true that Crusch had lost her memories years ago, and Felix had already gone through the initial devastation when that truth first struck him.
He had mourned the loss of the woman he once knew, had accepted that the Crusch he loved was no longer fully present, and had struggled to rebuild some semblance of the bond they had once shared.
He had poured every ounce of effort into reconnecting with her, trying to reignite the trust and affection they had held before, hoping against hope that a piece of the Crusch he adored still existed somewhere beneath the veil of her memory loss.
But now, faced with her apparent betrayal, that fragile hope crumbled completely.
In this moment, Felix realized with a bitter clarity that this woman, standing before him and calling herself Crusch, was not truly his Crusch-sama.
She was someone else entirely, a version of the woman he had admired and devoted himself to, but stripped of the essence that had once defined her.
And yet, even in the midst of his heartbreak and searing anger, Felix could not bring himself to take his rage directly out on her.
The deep-seated loyalty and devotion he felt, the remnants of his love and respect, still bound him from confronting her with his fury.
So, as his emotions twisted violently within him, he sought a target elsewhere.
His thoughts sharpened like claws, and he instinctively redirected the blame toward Subaru, who had become the embodiment of all his frustration and despair.
'It is because of him!', he thought furiously.
'His future version is the one responsible for all the terrible deeds! Meowyh defiled Lady Theresia's corpse, stirred up strife against me! Clearly, meowyh did nothing wrong; everything is his doing, entirely his fault! It's all his fault!'
The words circled in his mind relentlessly, a mantra fueled by outrage and helplessness.
His emotions were coiling tighter and tighter, teetering on the edge of an uncontrollable explosion.
Meanwhile, the room waited in tense silence.
The Wise Men of the Sage Council, ever meticulous and patient, continued to observe the proceedings, their expressions unreadable.
Julius, having just finished delivering his carefully constructed version of the events that had unfolded in Priestella, adjusted his posture slightly, awaiting their next move.
"So, will that be all?" one of the Wise Men finally asked, his tone clipped but measured, cutting through the heavy air as he directed the question toward Julius.
The inquiry hung over the room like a sharp blade, signaling that, despite the length of the explanation and the intricate web of half-truths and selective omissions Julius had spun, the council required confirmation, closure, and perhaps even further clarification.
It was actually quite straightforward, at least in the version Julius presented to the Wise Men.
The Sin Archbishops of Lust, Greed, Wrath, and Gluttony—the four brothers responsible for the chaos—had launched a coordinated attack on Priestella.
Among them, Greed had been eliminated through the combined efforts of Emilia's camp and Felt's camp, their strategic cooperation proving decisive in that particular confrontation.
Wrath, on the other hand, had been captured and arrested thanks to the intervention of Priscilla's camp, aided by Reinhardt, who had arrived later and contributed his formidable presence to subdue the violent Archbishop.
Lust, facing the formidable defenses and relentless counterattacks of Crusch's camp, had been forced into retreat, unable to continue her offensive without risking annihilation.
Finally, the Gluttony brothers, confronted by Anastasia's cunning and the overwhelming strength of her forces, had also been compelled to retreat, their objectives foiled by her strategic acumen and resourcefulness.
Julius carefully framed the entire sequence of events to show a version where they had achieved victory through coordinated effort and skill.
Crucially, he omitted the darker truth: that they had only been spared due to the interference of a future version of their trusted comrade—Subaru—who had, in that timeline, assumed the identity of Zero and seized control of the Witch Cult.
Even in this distorted retelling, Julius subtly wove in the warning that Subaru, in the future, was destined to become Zero, a threat who could eventually annihilate them all and bring ruin to the already corrupt Kingdom.
The nuance in Julius's story allowed him to protect Subaru while still conveying the stakes in a manner that the Wise Men could comprehend without immediately leaping to punitive action.
In doing so, Julius had openly sacrificed his Knightly code of absolute honesty and unwavering justice.
For the sake of his friend, he had knowingly bent the truth, prioritizing Subaru's safety over his own personal honor and the rigid expectations of his role.
It was an act of profound loyalty, one that walked a fine line between righteousness and betrayal in the eyes of the Kingdom.
"Yes, it will be all—" Julius began, preparing to conclude his explanation, when his words were abruptly cut off.
Felix, meanwhile, felt the tension in his chest tighten, his thoughts still consumed with blame, resentment, and the gnawing ache of betrayal.
"It is all false!" Felix's voice rang out sharply, filled with indignation and accusation, as he suddenly stepped forward in front of the mirror, his posture tense and eyes blazing with anger.
The sudden outburst caused a ripple of alarm throughout the room.
In the blink of an eye, Reinhardt, ever vigilant and protective of the proceedings, reacted.
He lunged forward, securing Felix from behind with a firm grip.
One hand shot up to cover Felix's mouth, muffling the young healer's protest before it could escalate further, while his strong frame prevented any sudden movements that might disrupt the tense balance of the council meeting.
The sudden confrontation injected a sharp surge of chaos into what had been a controlled and carefully managed deliberation.
Unfortunately, even though Reinhardt and the others were able to physically prevent Felix from fully revealing the truth, the entire scene was still being transmitted through the magical mirror.
The image was perfectly clear to the Wise Men, who could see everything as if they were standing right in the room.
The sudden outburst by Felix had already startled them, but their shock deepened when they witnessed Reinhardt immediately silencing him.
The display of strength and control was both alarming and confusing, leaving the council unsure how to react to the unexpected chaos.
"Reinhardt, it seems Blue has something to say," one of the Wise Men remarked, his brows arched in surprise and concern as Felix struggled violently within Reinhardt's firm grip.
Felix's arms flailed and his body twisted, trying desperately to break free, but Reinhardt, despite being incredibly strong, was holding back just enough.
He didn't want to truly hurt his friend, Blue—Felix—yet his restraint meant that Felix still had the ability to twist and push against him, making the struggle visible and unnerving to everyone watching.
If Reinhardt had applied his full strength, he could have completely subdued Felix, leaving no chance for resistance.
Despite Reinhardt's efforts to restrain him without causing harm, Felix's mouth unexpectedly broke free from his hand.
With a shout that carried both fury and desperation, he managed to scream, "They have told lies! The real culprit w—"
His words were cut off in an instant.
With the grace and precision only Reinhardt could wield, he adjusted his hold and this time applied enough pressure to actually choke Felix, stopping him from speaking entirely.
The sudden escalation of violence, executed with clinical efficiency, left the room stunned and tense, the air practically vibrating with the unspoken tension of the struggle.
"What is happening?! Why are you stopping him from speaking?!" one of the Wise Men erupted, his voice sharp and laced with panic.
The abruptness of the act and the visible physical restraint triggered immediate alarm.
As the others watched through the mirror, many of the attendees' faces turned pale with shock, while others scrambled nervously, seeking answers or attempting to make sense of the scene.
The room was thrown into utter confusion, with questions and fears rippling outward as the council struggled to comprehend why Reinhardt would take such drastic action against one of their own, particularly in such a public and unavoidable manner.
Otto spoke up quickly, his voice measured but laced with concern.
"Your Excellencies, it seems he has been affected by the powers of the Sin Archbishops."
His words were careful, intended to defuse the situation and provide a plausible explanation for Felix's outburst, but they carried the subtle weight of an excuse rather than a defense.
Before the council could fully process Otto's statement, Ricardo interjected almost immediately, his tone sharp and defensive.
"Your Excellencies! Do not listen to him! He is just a foolish demi-human, nothing more! Do not take his words seriously!"
His objection was brash, almost insulting, but it came from a place of loyalty and concern for Subaru's safety.
The two of them had spoken almost simultaneously, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other in stunned disbelief, realizing how directly they had contradicted one another.
The scene was chaotic, the tension between them adding to the confusion, and neither could immediately reconcile the other's words with their own intentions.
The Wise Men, observing this exchange with their characteristic scrutiny, immediately became wary.
Their eyes narrowed, suspicion etched across their faces as they processed the rapid-fire explanations.
They could feel that something about the situation did not add up, that these contradictory accounts were far from reassuring.
Meanwhile, Reinhardt, still holding Felix firmly, began to move toward the side of the room, intending to remove him from the mirror's view and de-escalate the tension.
At that moment, Miklotov's commanding voice cut sharply through the air.
"Reinhardt! It is my order! Unhand him immediately!" The sharpness of the demand carried the weight of authority, leaving no room for hesitation.
Hearing this, Reinhardt's expression hardened, the tension in his shoulders becoming visibly pronounced.
As a Royal Knight, directly disobeying an order from one of the Wise Men constituted a grave offense, potentially punishable by severe reprimand or even dismissal.
He knew the risks, yet his protective instinct toward Subaru was at odds with protocol.
At the same time, the Wise Men had already begun to realize just how suspicious the situation had become.
The earlier outbursts, the contradictory explanations, and Reinhardt's hesitance to comply had all contributed to a growing sense that mere excuses would no longer suffice.
"We will decide whether Blue is speaking nonsense or not!" Bordeaux's voice rang out, firm and uncompromising, cutting through the tension like a blade.
"Reinhardt, unhand him this instant!"
His words left no room for negotiation.
Reinhardt's gaze shifted briefly to Subaru, who was standing nearby with a pleading look in his eyes, silently begging him to hold back, to be patient and trust that they could resolve this without escalating it further.
The silent communication between the two was brief but intense, a mutual understanding passing between them, even as Reinhardt wrestled internally with the conflict between his duty as a Royal Knight and his instinct to protect his friend.
The room held its collective breath, the tension so thick it felt almost tangible, as the moment teetered on the edge of an irreparable disaster.
He had reached a critical crossroads, forced to make an impossible choice between his duty as a Royal Knight and his loyalty to his friend, who was not just an ally but a central figure within the Kingdom.
The weight of the decision pressed down on him heavily, each heartbeat echoing the consequences of whatever path he would take.
In the end, Reinhardt bit his lip, a brief, tense pause reflecting the inner turmoil he wrestled with, and finally made his choice.
With a slow but deliberate motion, he released his hold on Felix, who immediately began gasping for air, the tight pressure on his lungs dissipating.
Small tears, a mixture of relief and lingering frustration, began to streak down Felix's face as he struggled to regain composure, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.
Wasting no time, Felix's eyes darted toward the magical mirror, the image of the Wise Men framed within it.
His chest heaved as he caught his breath, and then, summoning all the courage he could muster, he shouted, "Your Excellencies! Whatever they told you was a lie… cough Meowyh will tell you the truth!"
His voice cracked slightly under the strain, but he pushed through, determined to make them understand the gravity of what had really happened.
And with that declaration, he began to reveal the full, unvarnished truth.
The Wise Men's expressions shifted almost immediately, their eyes widening, their brows knitting together as the weight of the revelation settled upon them.
Felix painstakingly detailed the true scope of the threat they had faced: their real enemy was not a mere rogue force or random catastrophe—it was Zero, who had seized control of the entire city with a combination of terrifying intelligence, overwhelming power, and ruthless strategy.
Felix explained that Zero possessed a multitude of formidable abilities, each one deadly on its own, but the most fearsome of all was the power to kill anyone with nothing more than the snap of his fingers.
The mere thought of such an ability sent a ripple of tension across the faces of the council.
Felix did not stop there.
He went to extraordinary lengths to explain the origins of Zero's abilities, revealing that this particular power was a Sin Authority, derived directly from the Witches of Sin themselves—a force so dangerous that it could challenge the strongest of warriors without effort.
He recounted in vivid detail how Zero, alongside his extremely powerful allies, had confronted their combined forces, almost defeating the alliance in a single, sweeping campaign.
The intensity of the battle, the near-total destruction, and the level of threat were laid bare before the Wise Men, leaving no room for doubt about the magnitude of the danger they had narrowly survived.
Finally, after describing the harrowing struggle and the overwhelming might of their enemy, Felix exposed the critical turning point: how they had discovered the truth about Zero, how they had come to understand the terrible reality of the future threat, and how, through courage, strategy, and the unwavering efforts of everyone involved, they had managed to survive the encounter and protect what remained of the Kingdom.
The room fell into a tense silence as the weight of Felix's revelations settled over the Wise Men, their expressions reflecting a mixture of shock, disbelief, and the dawning comprehension of the monumental danger that had been hidden from them until now.
The Wise Men were completely stupefied as they listened to Felix's explanation.
The notion that Zero shared the same face, voice, and even body build as Subaru struck them as utterly incomprehensible.
Their expressions froze mid-thought, as if the very idea defied the natural order of reality. Felix, seizing the moment while their minds struggled to process the revelation, pressed forward with even more detail.
He explained how Zero had openly revealed that he was, in fact, Subaru from the future, a version of their ally who had gone on to destroy Lugunica itself and had single-handedly defeated the Sin Archbishops.
The magnitude of the revelation sent a wave of disbelief crashing over the room, leaving the Wise Men scrambling to reconcile what they were hearing with everything they thought they knew about the Kingdom, its heroes, and the forces of evil.
The council's initial instinct was to shout their classic, indignant exclamation—"Blasphemous!"—yet, as they opened their mouths, the absurdity of the tale quickly silenced them.
The story was already far beyond the bounds of anything they could reasonably accept.
By the time Felix had finished recounting the sequence of events, including the alliance's half-hearted victory—a victory that, in reality, had been nothing more than Zero sparing them—the Wise Men were left entirely speechless.
Their collective minds wrestled with the implications, each member silently questioning whether they were listening to the plot of some wildly imaginative new genre of fiction rather than the factual report of recent events.
Time-travel.
The very term was enough to make the seasoned council members' heads spin.
The idea that a man from the future could appear, alter events, and possess powers sufficient to control the fate of the Kingdom was so alien to their understanding that many of them struggled to maintain composure.
Whispers of incredulity circulated silently among them, yet no one dared speak aloud, afraid to commit to a statement that might later seem naïve or foolish.
"As you can see," Julius stepped forward deliberately, attempting to reassert some control over the situation.
His voice was calm but carried a subtle authority as he addressed the council.
"Felix has allowed himself to be influenced and corrupted under the power of the Sin Archbishops. His explanation, though passionate, is clearly far-fetched and highly unreliable."
"Indeed!" Priscilla's voice rang out next, surprising everyone in the room, including the Wise Men.
"He is a filthy demi-human. His words cannot be trusted under any circumstances."
The unexpected alignment of Priscilla with Julius added a new layer of confusion to the already chaotic scene.
The Wise Men exchanged bewildered glances, struggling to parse the conflicting signals before them.
One moment, Felix was exposing what he believed to be the truth, and the next, the supposed authority figures in the room were casting doubt on his credibility with equal force.
The council's sense of order and control wavered, leaving them in a state of profound uncertainty about what had truly transpired, and how they were supposed to respond to the extraordinary claims they had just heard.
Indeed, the explanation that Felix had given sounded wildly implausible, almost like the plot of a fantastical novel rather than a credible recounting of actual events.
To anyone observing from the outside, it might have seemed absurd, laughable even.
Yet, for the Wise Men, the reactions of everyone present—subtle gestures, tense expressions, the way Reinhardt had intervened, the visible fear and urgency on Felix's face—were all clear indicators that something extraordinary had indeed occurred.
The council could see, in real time, that the chaos and fear in the room were genuine, and that this was not merely the fanciful imagination of a young demi-human.
Miklotov remained silent for a moment, his sharp gaze settling on Reinhardt.
His voice was calm but carried undeniable authority as he finally asked, "Reinhardt… Was what Blue told us the truth?"
The question hung in the air, charged with tension, demanding an answer that could either validate or completely shatter the fragile narrative Julius had constructed.
The Sword Saint flinched at the inquiry, the weight of his decision pressing heavily upon him.
He opened his mouth to respond, his voice steady but hurried:
"Obviously, it is all—" And, as if on cue, he was interrupted once more, the room refusing to grant him the simplicity of finishing his sentence.
"It is true."
The words cut through the tension like a blade.
Every eye in the room turned to locate the source of the unexpected affirmation.
To their surprise, it was Anastasia who spoke, her calm and commanding presence anchoring the chaotic scene.
Her eyes glimmered with determination, and there was a subtle, calculating spark in her expression that indicated she had already made a decision about the next step to take.
In the midst of the turmoil, Anastasia had already resolved her strategy.
She had thought deeply and carefully about the implications of what Zero had revealed.
If the words of Zero were indeed true, then the future held a grim fate for her: she would never ascend to the throne as queen, and her life would be cut short at a young age.
That possibility filled her with a profound fear—not only the fear of death itself, but the fear of dying with her ambitions unfulfilled, with all her years of careful planning, hard work, and personal effort rendered meaningless.
Moreover, the thought of the Kingdom being destroyed, the country she wanted to rule, the nation where she built connections with such efforts, added another layer of urgency and moral weight to her decision.
What use would all her efforts be if everything she had worked for ended in ruin?
Recognizing that Felix had already absorbed the majority of the blame, Anastasia saw a clear opening for herself.
She could now step forward without drawing immediate suspicion, as the focus would naturally remain on Felix, the demi-human whom the alliance had already marked as unreliable.
Being a Merchant, she would be perceived as a practical, calculating figure, and her actions would be interpreted in the context of her pragmatic approach rather than betrayal or conspiracy.
By carefully leveraging the chaos around her and the preexisting assumptions of the council, she could maximize her advantage and ensure that her position, influence, and ambitions were secured.
In that moment, Anastasia's mind was razor-sharp, fully aware of the political landscape and ready to manipulate it to reap the greatest possible benefits for herself.
The expressions of the Wise Men shifted noticeably as they processed Anastasia's unexpected support of Felix's claim.
Normally, they would have dismissed the pleas of a demi-human without a second thought—prejudice and outright racism ran deep in their ranks, and individuals like Felix were rarely granted the benefit of credibility.
Yet, in this particular case, something even more potent than their disdain for demi-humans came into play.
The council harbored an intense, almost fanatical prejudice against Emilia, her camp, and anything even remotely connected to the Witches.
That bias was so extreme that it compelled them to consider Anastasia's words seriously, because backing Felix was, in effect, a condemnation of Subaru's allies.
Recognizing the gravity of the accusation and the potential threat it posed, the Wise Men immediately pressed for further confirmation.
Their attention shifted sharply to Julius and Reinhardt, the two most reliable and influential figures in the room, demanding their response.
Julius, upon seeing that his Lady, Anastasia, had openly taken a side and expressed her support for Felix's version of events, instantly faltered.
The weight of loyalty and honor bore down on him.
As the "Finest of Knights," he could not, in good conscience, act in opposition to her stance, even if it meant contradicting the truth about Subaru.
The conflict between duty and loyalty froze him for a moment, leaving him with little choice but to yield to her position.
Meanwhile, Subaru observed the unfolding scene with a mounting sense of dread.
The entirety of Anastasia's camp had taken a clear stance against him, their solidarity amplifying the pressure and isolation he felt.
Every glance, every subtle shift in posture, reinforced the message that the alliance he had relied upon was now actively opposing him.
After witnessing Anastasia's decisive move, the attention of the Wise Men gradually shifted to Crusch's camp.
Even though Crusch had initially been hesitant due to her lost memories and her cautious nature, she ultimately stepped forward and corroborated the truth.
Her confirmation added yet another layer of legitimacy to Felix's claims, leaving the Wise Men with little room for doubt.
With the corroboration from Crusch's camp, the council's scrutiny now fell squarely on Reinhardt.
Every eye in the room turned toward him, demanding his explanation and verification of the events that had transpired.
"Reinhardt… is what we heard true?" Miklotov asked, his tone calm yet carrying the subtle weight of a psychological assault.
"I am not speaking to you as a Wise Man at this moment, but rather as someone who truly wishes to protect this Kingdom. If you genuinely care for the safety and stability of the people you have sworn to defend, then I implore you, Reinhardt, speak the truth. Do not hide behind duty or protocol—tell us what really happened."
The words were precise, cutting through the tension like a scalpel, leaving Reinhardt with no room for evasion.
The pressure of the question, combined with the authority in Miklotov's voice, pressed down on him with the full weight of expectation, forcing him to confront the difficult decision he had been avoiding.
Reinhardt's hands clenched into tight fists, the knuckles whitening as he struggled with the internal conflict between his loyalty to his friends and his obligations as a Royal Knight.
His jaw tightened, and for a long, tense moment, the room held its collective breath, waiting for his response.
Finally, the weight became too much to bear, and his shoulders sagged slightly as his expression fell into a mixture of resignation and solemnity.
"Yes… it is the truth," he admitted, his voice steady but heavy with the gravity of the revelation.
The chamber seemed to exhale as the Wise Men processed his confirmation.
Many of them took a deep, audible breath, while others gasped, their eyes immediately shifting toward Emilia's camp, landing with particular intensity on Subaru.
The young man's face paled slightly under the sudden scrutiny, the weight of the council's judgment pressing down on him like a tangible force.
The room grew tense, almost as if the air itself had thickened in anticipation of the next command.
"Arrest him," Miklotov ordered, his voice cutting through the silence with absolute authority.
The words were final, leaving no room for argument, hesitation, or delay.
The gravity of the declaration reverberated throughout the chamber, instantly silencing every murmur, every movement, and every thought that had filled the tense space.
For a moment, there was nothing but stillness.
The entire place became engulfed in an oppressive silence, the weight of impending action hanging over everyone like a dark cloud. Every person present, from the highest-ranking Wise Men to the members of the various camps, froze, acutely aware that a single decision had just changed the course of the meeting—and perhaps the fate of the Kingdom itself. The tension was so thick it seemed to press down on their shoulders, leaving everyone waiting, uncertain of what would come next, yet painfully aware that the next moments would be decisive and irreversible.
(A/N: I like my tension to be thick 😏😏)
To be continued...
(A/N: Boissss, I cannot help it. My inner author is saying to finally look at versatile mage fanfic, perhaps you can help me? By chaining me down with powerstones?)