“Merlin was your father?” Burn asked.

Morgan nodded as they walked down the elf palace corridor together. She answered, “He was my father for the longest time.”

Burn didn’t understand, but he didn’t take the initiative to ask. They walked in silence for quite some time, and slowly Burn decided to inquire about something else.

“You told me there were three people you knew who would be able to defeat me,” Burn said.

Morgan chuckled. “But they won’t be able to scratch you now.”

After Burn had been enlightened and transformed his body by absorbing the heat of a dying sun, they wouldn’t be able to match him.

“Who were they?” Burn asked.

“It’s Romeuf and Urien. The third one is Merlin,” Morgan answered. “Before you became stronger recently, Romeuf and Urien might have been able to defeat you without working together, but they’d still lose their lives, or they would need to sacrifice themselves to defeat you.”

Burn smiled. “What about now?”

“Now, even if they worked together, they wouldn’t be able to scratch you. You’d easily make them seem like a joke.”

Burn laughed, satisfied.

“What about Merlin?” he asked then.

Morgan shook her head. “I don’t know.”

That was when Burn raised his eyebrows. “You don’t?”

Silence again as they walked.

“I’ve never seen Merlin fight seriously. Not even when we faced the Demon Lord,” Morgan answered slowly.

Burn frowned. “So he could even afford not to fight seriously against the Demon Lord?”

Morgan thought for a moment and then answered, “Now that I recall, Merlin might have hidden his real power.”

The implication was too grave. It could be that Merlin refrained from helping the heroes save the world with everything he had, or worse, he was never on their side.

Burn remembered the story of the Original Saint, but the mystery of how she transformed into Morgan Le Fay remained. The Original Saint had been born 17 times in the Elysian Kingdom. But after that, where was she reborn?

Was Merlin one of her last biological parents who gave birth to her?

More than any type of betrayal in this world, being betrayed by one’s own parents surely stood as one of the worst. Burn, with her hand clasped in his, pulled her close and kissed the back of her hand.

Morgan didn’t need to read his mind to sense how deeply upset Burn was for her.

“You were just awakened after all that and found out how you lost everything because of me,” Burn said.

After the accumulated soul energy she had intended to use to purify the world was stolen by her own father, she awoke to find her disciple dead and the world in chaos. Yet, despite it all, she didn’t kill him.

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Burn smiled. “You resented me fairly, and you fought well.”

Seven loops, with more to come. Burn held no grudge.

But Morgan…

“It feels like I’ve had horrible luck with people for my whole life,” Morgan chuckled. “Whether it was a horrible family, or horrible companions, or they’d be like you, who’s neither black nor white.”

“If I could choose, I’d be completely black. But you dragged me over to the fence, and I’m sitting on it now,” Burn said.

Morgan mocked, “You’re never completely black. Even when you killed Yvain, you regretted it in your heart, although just a little bit, knowing that you’d kill more innocent people for the sake of the greater picture.”

“When I took this path, I was ready to do so,” Burn replied. “But you are always completely white.”

Old Burn would’ve gone and demolished Inkia the moment he knew they had something to do with his father’s illness. Yet, after everything they had been through together, though he still wanted to demolish Inkia, he felt less urgency now.

He used to solve everything with brute force, claiming it was the easier path. While that was true, it often glossed over many hidden aspects.

In the other loops, he didn’t know what became of the first elf princess, Shorof. Whether she died or suffered for more years, or if her illness was finally detected, he didn’t know. In any other loop, he also wouldn’t know the truth about his father.

Of course, he didn’t know the whole picture now, but when a hint finally led to the truth, he would pursue it to the ends of the earth. Wasn’t it the perfect excuse not to resort to brute force anymore?

Did Morgan from seven loops ago know about this?

Even if she didn’t know, she still did the right thing.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Burn said.

Morgan turned to him and raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“When exactly did you fall for me?” he asked.

Morgan’s eyebrows relaxed, just like how he insisted they floated like clouds at dawn. Her soft smile looked as gentle as dew after a long night of storm.

“Since the beginning?” Morgan half-shrugged, half-sighed.

“What?” Burn frowned.

Morgan didn’t know exactly when, too, but he was never unpleasant to her.

“Even though I killed Yvain?” Burn asked. “The resentful you from the past seven loops… they’re still you.”

“Yes,” Morgan answered. “But you killing Yvain was also part misunderstanding. Did you not see that Yvain didn't resent you after we told him the truth?”

Burn still wore a frown. “Because he thought I was the one who caused your disappearance?”

Morgan nodded.

“But I still killed him each time,” Burn said.

“Wasn’t it necessary?” Morgan’s lips slightly curled. “You didn’t want to deal with Velaryon, knowing that he was the real problem. The White Dwarf descended to this land partly because of your dealings with him.”

Burn didn’t want her to absolve him of the blame for Yvain’s death. Yvain’s death was entirely his fault. He had no excuse.

“You killed him only once in the original timeline. After that, you refused to deal with him directly again in the next loop,” Morgan said.

Burn killed him in the first timeline because Yvain refused to yield no matter what he did. In the next timelines, he killed the boy through other people to avoid the White Dwarf descending too early. He didn’t want to create too much of a butterfly effect, making everything even more unpredictable.

But no matter the reason, he still killed him.

“Your conscience is different from that of normal people,” Morgan said. “Not like normal good people who blame themselves and break down, forever in shame, you have the conscience of a ruler.”

Burn’s eyes faltered.

“A ruler who isn’t afraid to dirty his hands for the sake of the larger picture,” Morgan said. “Because sometimes, being a generous, kind and wise ruler is not enough.”

If she really fell in love with him from the beginning, was it when he kissed her to revive her from that coffin in the church and looked into his mind?

But indeed, the first time Burn laid eyes on her in that first timeline, he couldn’t help but see her as a dream.

If she fell in love from that beginning, Burn might’ve fallen in love with her from an earlier beginning, three years in the future.

“I fell in love with you first,” Burn said, his face emotionless.

Morgan burst out laughing. “What? Is this some kind of competition?”

Even though his eyes looked cold and his face was expressionless, his hands weren’t honest. They began to roam her body with explicit intentions.

“Caliburn…” Morgan smiled helplessly. “Do you want to do it…?”

Burn practiced self-restraint. “We need to go to the moon first.”

Morgan burst out laughing again, this time more unrestrainedly than before. “Of course. Let’s find a sword for you.”