After the outsiders brought their junior fleet admiral back, Dirk freed himself from the armor helmet and grinned at Burn.
“Haa, Your Majesty, it really is delightful to witness someone stand so straight in the presence of an overlord,” Dirk said, a smirk playing on his lips. “That was Mahkato, the one usually handling and gathering resources for the Alliance. She only comes out when it’s really important, too.”
Burn turned to him, leaning in slightly. “Enlighten me about her, then.”
The space mercenary paused, considering that overlords were regarded as gods among men. Even when they were sometimes replaced by other competent individuals, their legendary status clung to them like a shadow.
“I heard Lady Mahkato was once a mercenary herself before ascending to her overlord status. Quite the upgrade, wouldn’t you say?” Dirk chuckled, while Burn remained as stoic as a statue.
“All right, all right! I know what you’re itching to know. She’s quite formidable. The whispers claim she possesses an encyclopedic knowledge of worlds and an uncanny ability to adapt. It’s said her home planet, the Fourth Heaven, is an oppressive place with such hefty gravity and a frighteningly close proximity to the sun,” Dirk said.
He continued, explaining that the Fourth Heaven was such a massive planet it had a magnetic field so strong it practically encouraged its inhabitants to evolve to detect magnetic forces, as if that were the pinnacle of evolution.
“You mean to say she can detect magnetic fields?” Burn asked.
Even in this wonderful, magical realm, some creatures had the delightful talent of sensing magnetic forces. They could distinguish north from south even after being knocked silly, as if it were a natural-born talent.
Not to mention, with the presence of mana in this world, simple magnetic detection became a walk in the park. But if she had that level of capability...
No, Burn had to brace himself for the very real possibility that she possessed some spectacular ability, courtesy of her rather illustrious title as one of the overlords. Suddenly, an old man with a metal helmet, eyes censored behind a horizontal black bar, popped into his mind like an unwanted guest.
“M*gneto?”
“M*gneto!” Dirk finger-gunned him with both hands. “Maybe imagine him, but god. Wait, no. You shouldn’t oversimplify it like that. It’s just her famous power. Who knows what else she has up her sleeve that allowed her to become an overlord.”
“I know,” Burn said, reclining on his throne with a self-assured air. He then inquired, “You think I can defeat her?”
Dirk shrugged. “If you can’t, then this world’s finished. Count me out, too.”
“And you’re perfectly fine with that?” Burn asked, observing Dirk’s apparent indifference.
“Do I look like I have a choice?” Dirk shot back. “Despite my little dance with betrayal, I can be rather loyal, you know? Not that I’ve ever really been on their side—more like a reluctant bystander.”
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Burn sneered.
“As soon as I get that ship to blast through that crack in the sky, I’ll turn every single one of them into cosmic confetti,” he declared, fingers digging into the armrest of his throne.
Dirk sighed, hesitating briefly before offering, “You know, despite their actions, not everyone in the Alliance is a heartless tyrant hell-bent on colonizing worlds. Some—like me—are just people caught in a vicious game, bending instead of breaking, caught between a rock and a hard place.”
“So what?” Burn leaned sideways on his arm, his fist to his chin. “Do I have time to ask each one of them or convince them not to invade my world? Or let them run rampant and enslave my people without these poor people noticing it?”
“All I’m saying is, once you take a swing at one of them and maybe, just maybe, come out on top, prepare yourself. More will come knocking. It’s like an endless parade, more will just line up behind,” Dirk tried to warn.
He continued, “Truly an unending cycle. They’ve got an unfathomably vast army amassed from countless worlds, all cozy in their millennia of conquests—thousands and thousands of years’ worth of boot prints to walk all over us.”
“That is not an excuse to back down,” Burn said. “At least not for me.”
Dirk managed a weary smile.
“After all, protecting this world and its people is just part of an excuse,” Burn said with feigned humility. “So, I suppose I owe you all a thank-you. Thanks for giving me the reason to conquer not just this world, but the entire universe.”
Ah, the grand aspirations of a young tyrant capable of devouring the rays of a dying sun like a morning pastry. Truly, he showed remarkable taste in destructive cravings.
It might not be apparent, but every time Dirk was in Burn’s presence, there was an unsettling feeling that he was consistently getting stronger, almost as if the universe itself was fueling the madness.
And then, of course, there was that outrageous request: asking him to blast him with 8% of the White Dwarf’s energy on himself. Brilliant plan, truly. Just what any sane being would consider doing on a lazy morning.
“I can assume that you have a plan to defeat them all?” Dirk asked, an eyebrow raised, as if he expected a drawn-out map of the plan.
“I will be returning soon anyway. I bet she’s already planning to kill me and seize not just the White Dwarf, but the entire land,” Burn mused, contemplating how wonderfully chaotic time travel could be. Perhaps her arrival here had deviated from the original timeline.
Burn could remember vividly that, in the original timeline, he should still be tangled up dealing with Inkia while Velaryon was prancing around alive; thus, the outsiders hadn’t yet felt the dire need to remove Burn from the equation.
Ah, Velaryon—one of the two golden geese nurturing the outsiders. He’d been their favored puppet, wielding Edensor’s resources like a chef with a knife, providing the outsiders with unparalleled access and juicy insider info.
Once Burn had executed Velaryon and usurped the Luminus Kingdom, the White Dwarf descended.
Now, much to everyone’s dismay, Burn had become a thorn far sooner than desired. Well, let’s be honest—he had always been a thorn, but after they killed Velaryon, they realized he was a thorn with a particular spark of defiance. They couldn’t dangle the classic carrot of power and glory before him.
That wouldn’t work at all.
Maybe in the original timeline, Mahkato had visited this world but overlooked him, seeing him merely as a tyrant with grand ambitions. She would just inspect the fleet, pausing only to note that everything was still executing their master plan flawlessly before flitting away.
After all, Burn hadn’t met or seen Mahkato in the other loops. Isn’t it just delightful how fate dances? It could also be possible that she was the one who authorized the use of the White Dwarf on him in the original timeline, after all the delightful chaos ensued.
But this time, the situation escalated quicker than a toddler throwing a tantrum in a toy store, and the fleet admirals decided to hire Dirk instead of seeking permission for the White Dwarf’s use on land. Classic case of shooting first and asking questions later—so very military.
Maybe, if he hadn’t met Morgan and hadn’t returned to the past, he would eventually meet and face Mahkato anyway.
The loop would end either today or tomorrow, and he was quite confident that Mahkato would hunt him down soon, and Morgan would die—
“Your Majesty!” Suddenly, a servant burst into the throne room. His expression looked frightened and pale. “Her Majesty… the Empress!”