“Finally, something I can agree on,” Burn pulled his sword, balancing it in his hand. “But I refuse to let him stroll back to you on his own two feet. He might decide to test out that fancy weapon he brought and shoot the ground—not that I’d expect common sense from someone like him.”

Mahkato raised her eyebrows, clearly entertained.

“Thaddeus Voss, prepare to collect them and handle the situation,” Mahkato ordered, her voice smooth yet authoritative.

Thaddeus bowed deeply. Meanwhile, Mahkato turned her gaze back to Burn, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. Just how strong was this man? His determination to guard himself, his land, and whatever else he could claim was as clear as day. But oh, those ambitions of his—were they bigger than the sword he brandished?

His strength was palpable; anyone could see that. But what of his knowledge? The energy burst three years prior had drawn them here like moths to a flame. Did he know anything about its source? It seemed not.

Burn met Mahkato’s gaze head-on, and honestly, it was rather endearing. Three years ago, many of the world’s more powerful entities likely felt that energy pulse. But let’s be clear; they all assumed it was the same phenomenon that had caused that obnoxious crack in the sky.

The outsiders.

So Burn didn’t think much of it at the time. Only now, with the revelation that it was Morgan—her soul energy pilfered by Merlin—did he finally grasp the depth of the situation.

According to Morgan, if the energy intended to cleanse this world of corruption was used as planned, her energy and magic wouldn’t exactly scream “come one, come all” to the outsiders.

It was Merlin’s brilliant idea to use that very energy to crack open a dimensional gate to who-knows-where that ended up making the energy spike detectable. Because, of course, subtlety was never on his agenda.

That crack Burn had tried to penetrate with his power? A delightful exercise in futility. Not to mention the fact that going past it was about as likely as getting a cat to take a bath. So, with a sigh, he concluded that some fancy technology was probably needed to traverse that gaping void.

Dirk had explained that the crack wasn’t just a tear in reality but also a kind of full-fledged dimensional gateway. Perhaps it was partly conjured when Merlin decided to ignore the laws of reality entirely, allowing the outsiders to waltz in through the breach and connect with their quaint little world.

Now, stationed on the other side of the gateway, the outsiders used the gateway itself as their makeshift fortress.

“Are you certain you have no intention of returning it to us?” Mahkato inquired.

Burn merely shrugged, his expression nonchalant. “I’ll consider returning it if you can present me with a compelling offer,” he replied. “For example, get your ass off my world.”

Mahkato scoffed, utterly unimpressed.

“Or, at the very least, pay your visitor tax and adhere to basic guest etiquette, you invaders,” Burn continued. “Honestly, following rules is the least alien behavior you can possibly exhibit.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Almost certainly, Burn yearned for a method of space travel. Although this was a magical realm, even the most fantastical sorcery had its limits. Ultimately, technology emerged as the true answer for effective space travel—considering even the gods from the Seven Heavens relied on gadgets and gizmos.

Even herself.

Ah, technology—so convenient, so sustainable. Naturally, one could see why Burn would want to stretch his little arms and expand his reach. However, beyond the grandiose Seven Heavens, no other world was allowed to possess the coveted technology of space travel.

And those mercenaries? They were still bound to align themselves with the mercenary unions under the ever-watchful eye of the Alliance. Every lower realm and its hapless inhabitants had to grovel for permission to venture intergalactically, either.

Sure, there was illegal space travel aplenty, fluttering about like a cockroach in a kitchen. But much like other illicit escapades under the thumb of the illustrious space Alliance, they were constantly under pressure—struggling to survive and perpetually repressed.

It’s almost poetic, really. The universe is a vast playground, and yet, here they were, diligently following the rules like good little subjects.

And this lower realm’s tyrant just needed to know his place.

“Well, it’s not like having the White Dwarf can bring you anywhere,” Mahkato remarked.

As for taking back the White Dwarf, that was hardly an issue. It wasn’t as if Burn could ever hope to harness its power; it was just another mundane form to fill out for her. At most, an extra bit of paperwork.

Still, she wouldn’t tolerate it for too long.

The moment they uncovered the source of that explosive burst of energy, she wouldn’t hesitate for a heartbeat to eliminate this insufferable cockroach herself.

It would be cathartic, really—like a rite of passage in a world filled with pretentious personalities and egos inflated far beyond their worth.

Even to him, the White Dwarf he clung to might prove a source of peril. Mahkato found it hard to fathom that this man—not exactly a paragon of brilliance—had somehow survived the White Dwarf’s wrath unaided. Perhaps a chat with the fleet admirals was in order; they might hold the details.

“If there’s nothing else to amuse me, kindly remove this trash from my presence. Ah, I’ve shared my name, but yours eludes me,” Burn said with an air of dismissiveness.

Mahkato’s lips curved into a disdainful sneer. “Typically, barbarians like you don’t warrant my introduction.”

“Mahkato, then?” Burn chuckled. “The Alliance’s esteemed higher-up, I presume?”

Her frown deepened at the sound of her name tumbling from this barbarian emperor’s lips. It was an affront to her very being. “The ninth of the Ten Overlords, Mahkato,” she corrected with pointed emphasis.

Burn’s smirk widened. “Delightful to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all yours,” Mahkato said coldly, and the transmission ended.

Mahkato's expression remained unreadable as Burn’s taunts echoed in her ears. How many like him had she faced before—self-proclaimed rulers, swaggering in the face of the Alliance’s might?

This truly wasn’t the first time Mahkato encountered characters like him—arrogant souls who fancied themselves capable of conquering the universe. The Alliance was helmed by the finest minds the cosmos had ever known, and not even they, deities in their own right, stooped to such levels of self-importance.

Particularly not when she had crossed paths with the one who could actually seize the universe.

It wouldn’t take long before Burn’s bravado faded into oblivion. Oh, she could almost hear the air escaping his inflated ego already; soon, even he would bow to the might of the Alliance.

This one, too, would crumble when the weight of the universe bore down upon him. Still, there was something oddly satisfying about watching him grasp at the last shreds of control in his pitiful little world.

For now, her priority was to unravel how this disarray had devolved into a situation more befitting a sideshow than a fleet capable of anything resembling glory. A meticulous assessment was in order—what catastrophic blunder had occurred within this project?

Surely, the reason couldn’t be as dire as being bested by a single man from some unremarkable boondocks of the galaxy, could it?