Defeat, Gather, Evacuate, Run, and Defeat.

First, they would charge forward, their swords clashing with every obstacle in their path, like a herd of determined wildebeests stampeding through.

Oh, the Elysian capital didn't know what was coming for them. The Soulnaught Army had their sights ordered on conquest, ready to snatch the crown like a greedy child grabbing for the last piece of cake at a birthday party.

Once victory was secured, it was time for the grand gathering. They would snatch up everything and everyone in their path.

The royal family? Check. The common folk and their precious belongings? Check. Nothing valuable would be left behind. They still had time after all, so, take away everything.

With their newly acquired entourage and resources in tow, the army would then embark on a great escape, like fugitives running from the law.

As they fled, they would leave a trail of defeated foes in their wake, as if they were playing an elaborate game of "Whack-a-Mole" with their enemies. Noble houses, military fortresses, military posts—every single thing.

And let's not forget the predestined route, carefully crafted through Burn's past loop experiences.

They would traverse the capital, the northern border, and westward, through rugged landscapes and treacherous valleys, until finally looping back to the starting point to the south, in the west of the capital.

Along the way, Burn would always keep a watchful eye on his merry band of marauders through his trusty team of mages. They were to be on high alert for any sign of outsiders and the White Dwarf, both Burn and the other end.

Their break and loot strategy resembled more of a bandit's playbook than a disciplined military operation. Like a rowdy gang of miscreants, they would swoop down upon unsuspecting cities, pillaging their precious resources, and then swiftly move on to the next target.

It would be a never-ending cycle of chaos, like a never-ending buffet of mayhem.

But fear not, for this pattern had been carefully crafted. They would traverse the kingdom in a grand circle, visiting the big cities like tourists on a particularly aggressive sightseeing spree.

And all of this would be accomplished without so much as a wink of rest for two to three whole weeks. Who needs sleep when you can conquer and loot to your heart's content, right?

With their pièce de résistance—the advanced technology from those outsiders. those gadgets and gizmos, and the added bonus of their Force and Vision, the Soulnaught Army was practically unstoppable.

And Burn?

He would accompany his army just until they reached the capital. After all, there were important matters that needed his attention.

In the previous loops, Burn and his army were swift and efficient in their assault on Elysian. This meant that the poor crown prince didn't have to endure the royal seed insemination plan.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

But alas, the young prince and his father, along with a multitude of nobles, were instead condemned to a life of slavery. Whether this was a better fate or a worse one, well, that's a topic open for debate.

Now, however, even though Burn had taken over command and returned to being practical, a significant amount of time had been lost. The young prince might be...

As Burn's presence graced the threshold of the Elysian palace, he effortlessly swung open the giant door with a single hand, causing a resounding echo to ripple through the empty halls.

Oh, how fitting it was that the capital was being gleefully pillaged by his rambunctious Soulnaught Army while he strolled through the seemingly empty palace.

With each thud of his metal heels against the polished floors, it was as if the very foundation of the palace trembled in fear. The grandeur that once adorned these halls now stood as a haunting reminder of the power that Burn wielded.

The opulent tapestries and ornate chandeliers remained mere witnesses to the chaos unfolding beyond the palace walls. Horrifying, horrifying sight.

The emptiness surrounding Burn felt palpable, like a ghostly presence watching his every move. The whispers of the wind carried the faint echoes of laughter and muffled screams, a symphony of triumph and terror orchestrated by his own army.

It was a scene that would make even the most hardened souls shudder with a mix of awe and dread.

Burn pressed forward, tracing the very halls that Yvain had ventured down to find the horror of human hope. It didn't take him long to reach it. How convenient.

It was eerily quiet for such activity to be happening behind the door right in front of Burn.

However, as he opened the door and beheld a line of women—adults, young, and even younger—surrounding a young boy in the middle of the hall, he finally understood.

This was what Yvain had witnessed—or perhaps even worse. The boy king had encountered it approximately a week later from today. And surely, after a week, the boy prince in the middle would have been a mere shell of himself.

Gasps echoed through the room, triggering a frenzied scramble as women desperately clung to their garments, seeking cover.

Amidst the chaos, everyone attempted to flee, but Burn simply stood, knowing they couldn't escape the capital with his army lurking nearby.

The only two who remained were the boy prince himself and an old woman. The boy lay naked on the floor, devoid of expression, while the old woman, taken aback by Burn's intrusion, was on the verge of screaming at him.

"Duchess Delone, I presume?"

Burn inquired with a hint of sarcasm, his voice echoing through the depths of the palace.

Shielded from the commotion in the capital, they remained oblivious to the chaos unfolding outside. And as for anyone attempting to report the situation to the palace, Burn's cunning subordinates had intercepted them.

"The king is here as well, isn't he? Summon him," Burn commanded.

Perhaps, much like the boy, the king himself had also been instructed to engage in procreation in a separate chamber. However, being an adult, he didn't require any supervision.

With a panicked expression, the old woman hastily departed, despite her advanced age proving no hindrance to her ability to flee.

Unperturbed by her departure, Burn approached the naked boy lying on the floor. Resting atop a fur blanket, its dark color might have masked its filth, but the putrid odor alone revealed its true nature.

Pulling his armor cape, Burn draped it over the boy, providing him with some semblance of modesty. Carefully, he gathered the child in his arms, noticing the vacant look in the boy's eyes, an indication of the loss of his innocence.

And in that moment, Burn's gaze fell upon the familiar figure of the old woman, trailed by the disheveled king, still fumbling to clothe himself properly.

"You are—"

"Alright," Burn interrupted. "Join the masses and follow them. My army is evacuating the capital."

"What—" the king started to question, his confusion evident.

Without missing a beat, Burn pivoted on his heels, his expression flat and cold. "I want the capital empty by dawn.”