Rarity took a step back from her father as she fully realized the weight of his words. “No…” she said. “You couldn’t have known.”

Esteem forcefully took a step towards her. “Little girl,” he said. “Of course I knew. My talent, my purpose, is war. War.”

His mouth twisted into a snarl, and he shattered his blade and sent the enchanted shards tearing through the air around them. They bit into the street, the buildings, and even some of the ponies below.

“No!”

The shards exploded, and the street below them was obliterated. Puppets and ponies on both sides were crushed and torn to shreds by flying stone and splinters. Despite the noise, Rarity could still clearly hear her father shouting.

“War, Rarity! It is a part of the natural order, a part of our very species! It comes as easily to us as love and loathing, as virtue and vice! It separates the weak and the worthless from the powerful and the privileged! War ruins the individual, but it tempers the race!”