Burn felt it had been an eternity since he used a living, breathing horse.

Adorned in its ceremonial mithril armor, the horse sashayed across the vast plain on the border of Soulnaught and Inkia, aiming for the enemy's doorstep.

If you were to inquire with Burn, he'd likely argue vehemently that this plain still fell under Soulnaught's jurisdiction.

However, truth be told, even the most devoted Soulnaughtians seemed to have forgotten this forgotten patch of land. Perhaps it was due to the rather inconvenient mountainous obstacle course separating this place from the heart of Soulnaught.

Burn knew that this vast plain had also been used as a battlefield a couple of hundred years ago. The land was scorched by a high concentration of magic that only the most stubborn grass could now populate.

His horse clip-clopped down the plain, slowly, purposefully relaxed. And seeing him trudging down toward them, the representative of the Inkia Army also decided to meet him in the middle.

"My lord, Your Majesty Pendragon, fancy meeting you here! It's been what, a century since our last meeting?"

As the renowned, ever-humble army commander of Inkia, Finn Wilderwood, greeted Burn, memories of their last encounter flooded back. It was back in the ancient times of this very year, right around the moment Burn decided to shake things up and declare war on the universe.

Oh, and who could forget? This fine fellow even made an appearance at Burn's grand coronation, alongside the King of Inkia himself, and popping in occasionally after Burn showed those outsiders who was boss.

He was the crowned champion of continental bootlicking.

Finn, bless his devoted soul, dared to grace Burn's doorstep, bravely attempting to plant the seed of 'reconsideration' in Burn's mind about taking over the entire world. Naturally, his efforts were swiftly brushed aside.

Now, Burn wasn't one to harbor ill feelings. After all, Finn was the lone Inkian who made a half-hearted attempt to cozy up to the Soulnaught rulers. Maybe it wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, but Finn understood that challenging Burn was about as wise as juggling flaming swords blindfolded.

“Looks like you brought the whole circus with you,” Burn remarked, eyeing the army Finn had mustered.

Finn smirked. “Hey, desperate times call for a backup choir. You can’t blame me. I am stuck between a rock and a hard place, after all. In this case, it was an unstoppable force and a group of stupid politicians.”

It was a sight to see Finn stepping out of his usual diplomatic shell. But let’s face it, when you’re dangling over a pit of hungry crocodiles, etiquette tends to take a nosedive. It was not everyday he was wedged between a tsunami and a flock of clueless pigeons.

“I heard someone was sent and ended up stabbing you?” Finn asked. “That’s uncalled for…”

“Just Tuesdays,” Burn casually shrugged.

Stolen story; please report.

It was a bit peculiar. Witnessing Finn deviate from his usual loop behavior was like finding a pineapple on a pizza—unexpected and not quite right. It appeared he had been pushed beyond his limits more harshly this time.

In prior loops, this gentleman bravely guarded the border, his eyes holding a glimmer of hope. Even when Burn killed him each and every loop, he seemed surprisingly unfazed by it.

“Your family got the classic hostage card?” Burn asked, as if unraveling a well-worn mystery.

“Well, doesn’t that just scream 'civilized society' to you?” Finn retorted wryly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “There’s this delightful, violent playdate between the prime minister’s fan club and the first prince’s cheer squad.”

The man explained that Burn had started to irritate both political parties, and Finn had borne the brunt of their frustrations. He was threatened with his family on the line; if he couldn’t take Burn out, his family would be stripped of their assets and sold as slaves.

This never happened in the previous loops.

The main reason was probably the utter lack of successful attempts that could even touch Burn except the first one. In the previous loops, they could still sneak into his bedroom, slip poison into his morning coffee, you name it, even though they still failed.

But now, every single attempt couldn’t reach Burn due to his diligent subordinates and Morgan.

With that, Burn probably had sucked up far too much of their attention. Quite the escalation for just a single week.

Which means, now, not only did Finn have to bite the dust, but his family would get the short end of the stick too—slaves in the making. Yet, that was just a drop in the ocean compared to the other bombshells.

Take, for instance, the colossal army Finn paraded in with. He went all out, betting it all on a losing hand. All for nothing, all for one. Maybe that was his way of retaliating. He was well aware that everyone in this place was headed for the grave, thus Inkia would feel the burn too.

"For the love of God, Your Majesty, could you please wrap up this war swiftly? Crush Inkia in months? No, scratch that, I bet you could do it in days."

Finn only wanted a swift death.

Burn didn't immediately answer, but he listened and witnessed everything the man had to say. Before responding, he decided to remind Finn of his offer from a couple of years back: "You sure you don’t want to switch sides?"

The emperor didn’t expect it, but upon hearing that, Finn looked more shocked than he ever had before. The man suddenly burst out laughing.

“—BH—HAHAHAHAH! HAHAHA!”

The pressure had been suffocating, making it seem like laughter had become a long-lost memory for Finn. The thought of his family suffering in his death weighed heavily on him.

"The offer still stands? Man, I'm so tempted to turn around and join you," Finn said, a tinge of regret in his voice.

But alas, it was too late.

If only he had known earlier, he would have secured his family first and then kicked off a rebellion. Now, at last, he was ready to join Burn's camp. He cursed himself for his past stupid patriotism and loyalty.

"Would you have done it if it hadn't been too late?" Burn inquired. "Let's say, one or two weeks ago."

"Hmm, absolutely," Finn mused. "Now that's a thought, Your Majesty. Thanks for sharing my regret."

Burn simply nodded.

Just like the assassin who stabbed Burn in the chest, screaming 'Long live Inkia,' Finn was also one of the many shadows of Inkia’s long-past glory. Inkia was great, but no more.

“Inkia will drag this war with every single card they have,” Burn said. "I'll fill you in on the details later. So prepare for the grand tour without the grumbling."

It would be enough to entrust the man with Inkia’s invasion later. He was quick-witted and well-connected too, judging from the army he brought.

Inkia would suffer quite a bit after Burn defeated this army amassed under the Wilderwood flag. He could imagine Finn lobbying the other nobles to contribute parts of their armies, effectively chipping away at Inkia's defense and manpower.

“Later?” Finn tilted his head in confusion. “Later when?”

Wasn’t this the end of his journey?

“Later, in the next loop,” Burn grinned.

Finn blinked, and somehow, it was a painless death. He was certain of it when he saw his vision halved, parts of his brain scattered on the ground.

The lower half of his face smiled. Burn had granted him the exact thing he wanted.