To the throne room! Looks like the other team really could use some help!

You waste no time in climbing up to the upper floor, following the trail of defeated Champions leading to the stairway to the High Throne. On the way, however, you come across Auric Bastion and a couple of limping paladins carrying wounded knights to safety.

Auric Bastion: "Outlanders. Sir Solar Flare is just up ahead. He bid us to retreat, though I fear he will not last long against our foe on his own."

Before you continue onward, you ask Auric Bastion if he will be alright.

Auric Bastion: "I will, but I fear for these knights. They were hit by debris when a blast destroyed most of the spire."

Sensing that they are greatly needed here, you suggest that Apple Basket and Moonflower stay and help him. The two younger ponies agree, and rush to the paladins' side.

Auric Bastion: "You have my thanks. I can only hope that the rest of you do not march off to your doom."

Moonflower: "The king's probably just one big nightcrawler. You got this!"

Apple Basket: "Uh, still, be careful, you two!"

You nod, then resume your course. As you climb up to the High Throne, rubble begins to obstruct the stairs. Not feeling like slowing down, your dragon companion lifts you up, and flies over the obstacles, until you emerge outside.

You are coldly greeted by a snow storm blowing over crumbled stone walls. All around you, broken pillars, splintered wood and tattered fabrics litter the ruins of what might have once been a lavish throne room.

Solar Flare: "Hail, my shining allies! I trust your battle has fared better than mine?"

In front of you, you find an exhausted Solar Flare, shielded by a radiant magic barrier of his own flickering magic.

And before him, in the midst of the destruction, his long, emblemed cape flowing in the wind, his ostentatious golden ornaments shining in the sunlight, his dark ethereal mane contrasting his pale ashen coat, and his eyes and horn glowing an all-to-familiar vivid scarlet, stands tall without a doubt the so-called Crown of Midgard; King Empyrius of Hollow Shades.

As the gray stallion directs his apathetic gaze in your direction, you are filled with an intense feeling of unease. A deep voice pierces the tempest, shrouded in growling dissonance.

King Empyrius: "Oh? The outlanders. How contemptuous must you be of your own fates to tempt it so.

You who I undeservedly welcomed into my kingdom. You who corrupted a brilliant mind with forbidden knowledge. You who stoke the flames of insurrection among my loyalest of knights. You who unchained the Betrayer from the very depths of the abyss.

I have shown myself tolerant of your ignorance and merciful to your crimes, and yet here you are, come to claim your own sentence. Tell me: do you truly believe your cause so righteous that you would sacrifice yourselves unto it?"

Sensing a powerful magical aura surrounding Empyrius — rivaling that of a royal alicorn —, you think it best to weight your next words or actions carefully.