Burn actually didn’t blame Morgan for not telling him or keeping her secrets. At first, he knew it was because she was guarded against him, playing it safe, keeping him at arm's length like a fine ancient vase too precious to touch.

And these days, it was because there were just a lot more urgent matters that needed to be addressed. The stakes were much higher, with chaos brewing all around them. Surely, facing an impending apocalypse took precedence over sharing family drama.

More than that, Morgan had read his memory and probably cringed at the rollercoaster of his schedule, realizing he was just a mortal juggling the universe with mere arms and legs. Although powerful, he was not all-powerful.

And let’s be real—she had promised him she’d spill the beans as soon as the last loop came to a close.

Morgan Le Fay had just recovered and was trapped in a loop with him—while before, she had too many responsibilities and too much on her plate as well, which somehow always seemed to explode on her like a surprise party from hell.

This woman…

“Force of evil always exists,” Morgan suddenly said. “I was complacent, as I said. I let them approach and harm you and the mind of your youth, all because I wasn’t guarded enough. Five hundred years, and what did I achieve? A joke.”

Morgan stood up. “Romeuf was right. I wasn’t fit for sainthood. Forgive me—”

“And what did he do? Dying alone on the cross, leaving all responsibility to you? What was he, a baby who can’t wipe his own ass?” Burn suddenly interjected.

Defeating the Demon Lord and purifying the effect of the corruption—all of that wasn’t done by him.

She did.

At least most of it. Especially the nasty jobs.

“A man who can’t clean his own mess is just that, and he dared say you weren’t fit for sainthood? What about him—was he fit for apostlehood? I’ll say that, and if the whole world points at me for being a villain, so what?” Burn was fed up.

Burn stood, and his height immediately towered over her. He just looked at her and said, “He can’t do shit.”

“And fucking Merlin,” Burn continued. “I knew there was something wrong with this famous mage everyone admires. So what if he’s your father?”

Morgan was speechless, and so were the assembly members.

Just three silently deafening seconds later, she softly smiled at him and said in a choked voice, “I love you.”

“Good job falling in love with me,” Burn replied. He turned to the assembly. “Now, there’s clearly someone targeting us.”

“I don’t care if it’s just my reputation on the line. It's plainly obvious they had the resources to harm my father and Princess Shorof. If you ask me, I’d flip the sky upside down just for fun, but honestly, who even knows who orchestrated all of this chaos?” Burn continued.

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The mythical community was called "mythical" because they were all linked to legends. Their grand accomplishments were so over-the-top that even the most creative of storytellers would roll their eyes and call them myths. But hey, they were real—totally not just elaborate bedtime stories. They were still true, living souls.

Most of them had lived for thousands of years and were more experienced in dealing with issues like corruption and ailments such as Mana Poisoning.

Meanwhile, Burn, bless his human heart, entered the scene a mere 27 years ago. His army? Yep, all human. His kingdom? Human, too.

Despite their undeniable might, not one of them stood a chance against anything remotely mysterious—like that whole debacle from 500 years ago that still got brought up awkwardly at assemblies like this.

Yes. No matter how strong they were, they wouldn’t be able to do much if they needed to fight something of unknown origin.

Thus, Burn must borrow the strength of the mythical creatures.

Initially, he thought it was merely the world moving on its course, but now it appeared that someone was secretly steering it, slowly and calmly, over a long period of time.

“The corrupted mana within the items can only be harvested from corrupted places. I have wandered through those places alone all this time and encountered nothing strange. Of course, the other four continents were far too vast for me to guard by myself…” Morgan muttered.

“Even if one wishes to harvest some corrupted mana from there, they need only to avoid you. Not to mention, you were attacked just before you could finish the magic circle that could purify the whole world,” Vlad remarked.

Isaiah furrowed his brow and spoke in solemn tones, “Thou didst bid me guard the moon, and I thought all was well…”

“With thine infinite soul, canst thou still purify the world if the magic circle be completed?” Isaiah inquired further.

Morgan shook her head and turned to Burn. “I am now using my soul for something else.”

“How could she still do it when she had lost her accumulated soul energy over hundreds of years?” Burn glared at Isaiah, who nodded apologetically.

Vlad frowned and ignored Burn’s words, yelling at Morgan, “You—!”

“What?” Isaiah turned to Vlad, looking worried.

The old vampire sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you later, Isaiah.”

Isaiah looked very puzzled, but he kept his silence. Vlad obviously knew what Morgan had used her soul for long ago and was now reminded of it again.

Burn looked at Vlad and almost rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Morgan grasped his hand.

The other mythical community leaders frowned. These old heroes… it felt as if they were speaking in a different set of syntax. They couldn’t understand at all.

But why did it feel like Burn just merged into the senior group so seamlessly?

Among the heroes of the past, there were six central figures: Apostle Romeuf, Archmage Merlin, King Urien, Morgan of the Fairy, the Vampire of the West, and the Dragon of the East.

Burn was a famous genius, someone who apparently killed two mighty mythical creatures and dared to consume them at the age of eleven.

By the mere mention of his Soulnaught Syndrome, he would almost remind them of King Urien. He was also his ancestor, who built the Soulnaught Kingdom, after all. But Urien was famous for his righteousness and wouldn’t be fierce enough to do what Burn had done.

In terms of his governing style and penchant for maintaining order, he could be compared to Romeuf. But again, Romeuf was an apostle, not someone branded a villain like Burn.

So what was left was Archmage Merlin. Burn’s talent might be comparable to that of the genius mage, as well as his ruthlessness. Now, after Merlin was revealed as this world’s traitor, they seemed even more similar.

However, seeing Burn near Morgan Le Fay eased everyone’s doubts. He might look cold and pragmatic, with his ruthless methods and inhumane resolve, but when the Holiness herself fell for him, could they still dare to doubt?