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After the battle, I discovered that it had completely dulled. The smiths worked tirelessly, day and night, to reforge it for me.

This new sword is heavier. It carries the weight of even greater expectations than before.

Diane, this sword reminds me every day of the right path—

The future of Victoria doesn't rest with me or Parliament. It rests on all of you—those who reclaimed our home with their own strength.

Vina, I have one last question.

What really happened in the Palace of Westhaleg that day?

What kind of story would you like to hear?

A heroic fairytale that'll make it into the books of that old bookstore, or the truth, so plain that it's almost boring?

Haha.

Diane takes a long swig of her drink, her hand brushing over the cold steel of the sword.

To be honest, I prefer the old sword… When I used it to strike down our enemies, those were the moments I felt closest to Victoria.

Back when I was living a simple, uneventful life, I never imagined I'd have thoughts like these…

And besides, there's hardly any time left to savor those quiet, pre-war days, is there?

Vina, forgive me, but I can't save the last bit of this whiskey for you. I really need it—

(Choking up) Why now, of all times, am I suddenly afraid to die?

(Choking back tears) Vina, before I'm completely drunk, would you tell me one last fairytale?

Her tears fall on the sword, sliding down its blade. 'Drip', 'drip'...

Diane… you already know the stories of the past, and you were there for the best parts of this fairytale.

But you may not know how it ends.

That day, I entered the Palace of Westhaleg, tore down the Sarkaz banner, and was about to leave—when suddenly, I heard someone call my name from the throne room.

'Alexandrina Vina Victoria.'

Then I pushed open the door that had been sealed for so long.

I saw—

my father. Alistair II, speaking to me.

My Alexandrina! You're finally home.

Come sit by my side, daughter of Victoria.

Vina couldn't make out the King's face.

The golden mask blended with his golden hair, radiating authority and an air of mystery.

He was Victoria personified.

My daughter, are you afraid of me? Are you afraid of Victoria?

Vina, never reveal even the slightest hint of fear to your subjects. Your teacher should have taught you that.

You died long ago.

Twenty-six years ago, they hanged you from the gallows.

Laughable! Who could kill Victoria?!

Those greedy condorwings thought they could tear the flesh from my body to feed themselves.

They were so blinded by fear that they conspired in regicide, all so they could feast upon the lands of the Aslans for their own gain.

But no one can kill us—not the dukes, not the Red Dragon. We are the beating heart of Victoria!

So that's why… your statue in the Mausoleum of Kings was never completed…

The dukes never truly laid you to rest; you've been here all along.

What little courage they possessed drove them to confine me in this throne room, but never to claim my throne. Cowardly usurpers!

They fear my people; they fear my Steam Knights; they fear us, Vina.

My daughter, tell me, do my people still remember me? Do my knights still guard our palace?

The people of Victoria have long since adapted to life without a monarch. As for your knights, they're all gone.

They were murdered by the very people they were sworn to protect.

And what of you, Vina?

I… I can barely remember what you look like.

Then come closer. Take off my mask and look closely… you'll see only yourself, Alexandrina. The blood of the royal line flows in us both.

I'm sorry, my child, that I failed to keep my promise.

I intended to hand you a peaceful and powerful Victoria, yet betrayal has left me sitting here, rotting on my throne, for over twenty years.

But at last, you've returned. Take my scepter, wear my crown…

Proclaim to our people that their sovereign has returned.

Purge our land of all dissent and punish every coward who betrayed the crown. Let glory endure—this is Victoria's rightful way!

The king's scepter struck heavily against the throne platform, its dull echo reverberating.

…Blood was never the source of our strength.

How familiar those words are—just like my defiant boasts to my own father.

(Chuckles) You still have much to learn, my daughter. Let me teach you a long-overdue lesson: the meaning of 'royal power'!

Still, I grant you the right to oppose me.

Alexandrina, return to my side, and listen.

No. You're already dead, Your Majesty. All that remains here is your echo, lost in the glories of a bygone empire.

I do not need you to grant me anything, nor do I need you to validate the strength of my convictions.

...I just want you to rest in peace, Father.

Vina tightened her grip on her hammer, stepped onto the platform, and walked toward the Empire's last glimmer of twilight.

Vina... I don't like this story.

The King who found no peace in his eternal rest upon the throne, and the hero who laid down her crown…

The story's over, but has anything really changed?

You and King Alistair both wanted to make Victoria better… but in the end…

Diane takes a hard swig from the bottle.

Cough—cough!

The burning liquor stings, coaxing more tears from her already swollen eyes.

If the King couldn't do it, then what hope do we have?

How can we possibly change anything?

But the story's <i>not</i> over yet, Diane.

I had also believed it would all end when the king found peace... but then someone unexpected appeared.

Should I even ask what brings you here?

A white figure emerges from the shadows behind the throne.

'Faint glimpses of that fairy can be seen in so many of Victoria's legends…'

'Power, intrigue, destiny, dreams coming true—throughout the centuries-old tales, she seems to possess different powers. Yet no one can say for certain which one is truly her.'

'Vina, who did you see?'

'I saw the Unicorn.'

Vina, you've far exceeded my expectations. You've shown me new possibilities.

Put down your hammer. I am not your enemy.

We fought side by side once, didn't we?

Who are you, Unicorn?

A tailor's daughter, a leader of the Self-Salvation Corps, a witness to Victoria...

Of course, many old men, even as they faced death, insisted on calling me 'the Nation's Sentinel' in their history books. Wishful thinking, I suppose.

Over the hundreds of years I've remained in Victoria, I've assumed, and later erased, countless identities, but at present, I am Clovisia.

In short, I am your friend, one sincerely pleased by all you've achieved. Does this answer satisfy you, Vina?

Another one of the 'long-lived'? You deceived every ally in the Self-Salvation Corps, as well as all of Rhodes Island.

Deceived? I've never deceived anyone. Everyone has their desires; I merely fulfill them.

Ordinary people tormented by Sarkaz bloodshed wanted to survive, so I led the Self-Salvation Corps to find a way out.

Ancient families, mired in power struggles, feared annihilation in the Empire's whirlpool, so I eliminated every threat to the continuation of the ducal lineage.

Frederick III hoped Victoria wouldn't fall into chaos beneath the Red Dragon's shadow—I could grant that wish, too.

So now you've come to me?

Alexandrina, daughter of Alistair, why would you think I'm only just noticing you now?

Vina, history is like a sailing ship, and you all are the ones who steer its course.

Since you wish to change Victoria, I can help you. What role would you assume to realize your ideals?

You could be a king, a speaker, or even the sole leader of The Exemplars—any of these titles are yours to choose.

'Vina, I must say, yours isn't a new story. I've read far too many like it in old shops...'

'In the end, the hero always accepts the fairy's gift. So, in the end, you chose the role of speaker?'

'No, Diane. I chose nothing.'