Burn, the connoisseur of all-out warfare, always had an impressive repertoire. This had always been the case all his life. Whether it was unleashing brute force or resorting to underhanded tactics, he never failed to entertain.

Today was no exception.

“Done,” Morgan said after she finished carving her enchantments, as if she had just painted a masterpiece on the metal griffin. Turning to Burn, she upped the ante by bedazzling his armor with more enchantments than ever before.

As she worked, whispered spells and touched his armor’s entire surface, embracing him completely with her magic, Burn stood still. She was nearly finished when Burn got an idea—

“What about you carve enchantments into my body?” he asked.

Morgan raised her face, her eyes widened, but then helplessly scoffed, “Yes, of course I can, my crazy darling.”

The suggestion of having enchantments etched directly onto his body surely could only be described as crazy. But as her initial shock morphed into wry acceptance, she thought, well, why not add 'human enchantment' to her job description?

The man smiled, knowing that it was unheard of—something that was meant for objects rather than living bodies. Surely it could render his body irreparable, not to mention the risk of failure, but this was a way to go all out.

Signing up for a magic-infused tattoo session was half a good and a bad idea, depending on how you look at it.

And he was right. The process was unbearably painful as the ancient letters started to carve themselves into his skin. With Morgan as the enchanter, the letters even started to embed themselves into his flesh, then his organs, and eventually into his bone structure.

She had never done this to a person before, but she embraced and improved the idea of engraving enchantment magic directly into someone’s body.

This feat, which might only be achieved by the masters of their crafts after years of research and experimentation, was done in mere seconds by the combination of Burn’s sturdy, Force art-enhanced body, and Morgan’s millennia of experience and Vision art understanding.

"What's next?" Burn asked. "They're about to start. Are we ready?"

"Yes," Morgan replied. "I'm going to heal you by borrowing God's holy energy and buff you with protection and increased attack power using my Vision. I'll do it simultaneously, but you don't need to protect me. Just focus on the fight."

"Got it," Burn blinked once in subtle amazement and nodded.

Fighting alongside the Infinity Witch, who apparently also doubled as a Saint, turned out to be a hell of a—no, a heaven of a luxury. A fucking divine comedy of a cheat.

"I will now ask you," Morgan continued, "do you need me to provide support attacks? I can do offensive spells on the side too."

"No," Burn answered. "I don't want them to be distracted from me."

If they decided to pick on anyone else, this world would go kaput in the blink of an eye. How boring would that be, right? Morgan understood, realizing Burn was all geared up to soak in every blow they threw his way.

"Alrighty then..." Morgan closed her eyes. "Let's kick this off, shall we?"

"Raise that sword sky-high and brace yourself for some divine TLC."

Burn arched an eyebrow, questioning if a non-believer like himself was even eligible for this. Nonetheless, he hoisted his sword toward the heavens. Lo and behold, a ginormous halo—a giant crown of light materialized in the sky.

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As Morgan's essence began to disperse into the surroundings, her physical form melted into pure light, yet miraculously retained her attire, shape, and face.

Suddenly, all of Burn's body enchantment-induced agony vanished, and he found himself glowing from within.

"O Divine, bestow your healing touch upon my beloved son of man—wipe away his hurts and woes as my chosen one," Morgan beseeched. "By the power vested in me—"

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST!!!

"—I dub thee my Paladin, my first holy knight."

***

“3% output! Go!” Rudolf screamed—

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAST!!!

Here comes the world-ending heat energy, all focused in one straight line, targeting the man in the center of that blinding crown of light. Cue the absolute whiteout—just when you thought you'd seen it all, the whole world goes blind again.

The blast that was supposed to create a big enough crater in the planet to make it collapse into itself was absorbed into the crown of light as it mimicked Burn’s energy-swallowing technique.

While the grand plans of obliterating the planet with a colossal blast, only to have it sipped up by the crown of light like a fancy energy smoothie, Burn was also surprised himself.

He felt the weight, the overwhelming pressure. He took it all in. But there was no pain. There was no difficulty—nor strain.

So this was what they called God’s blessing? Or was it just… Morgan?

Post that blinding blitz, his body was all pepped up. The energy he sucked in was kind of lukewarm, not the scorching-hot mess he dealt after facing Dirk. The blinding light did its disappearing act, and voila!

His golden eyes peeked behind Morgan’s fingers, which shielded him from blindness with her hand.

“Our turn, Caliburn.”

Burn charged forward, leaving Morgan in the middle of the slowly rotating crown of light. Raising his sword to almost breaching the speed of light towards the direction of the invisible ship, he felt another blast coming.

And he was correct—

BLAAAAAAAST! BLAAAST! BLAAAAAAAAAAST!!!

“0.02… 0.04… 0.1… So it’s not human. Artificial intelligence?” Burn muttered as he commented on the precision. Atop his metal griffin, he maneuvered skillfully around the pattern of the blasts, not only deciphering its algorithm but also throwing random feints of his own attacks.

He had absorbed enough energy after all.

SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!

“Just like that, you invisible rat—be where I want you to be!”

***

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

DANGER! DANGER!

“Turn off those fucking noises! What are you doing?! Hit him! He’ll go down eventually!” Rudolf yelled.

His subordinates couldn’t even put their behind properly in their chairs, their entire weight on their toes, their faces reflecting horror.

One of them tracked Burn, helplessly trying to capture his blurring image with their camera as the tracking AI failed to differentiate between their enemy and a streak of light.

As the fight—or the game of cat and mouse where they kept changing the role between who was the cat and who was the mouse—continued, they realized more and more how absurd it was to try and face a literal star eater with mere algorithms and artificial intelligence.

But the AI kept updating. It kept processing impossibly broken data of the man in the camera—whose actions defied logic and prediction.

“It’s weird. His hair is slowly… turning golden…!”

“What is he? Super S*aiyan?”

The small quips between the tactical officer and the co-pilot were enough to make every crew member actually involved in the fight grin. It was just priceless to manage to crack even the most stoic faces among the crew who were actually doing the heavy lifting.

Well, of course, they were all part of the cream of the crop, handpicked for the Junior Fleet Admiral of the Alliance, after all. And when it came to battles, they practically had more stripes than their esteemed leader.

Slowly, they started to enjoy the fight itself. This line between life and death was not to be crossed, but they couldn't ignore how close it was to their necks, reminding them of what they had forgotten after joining the elite ranks.

This was a real fight.

Just beyond the illusion of their undefeatable reputation, there was a window separating them from the reality that they knew—they were going to die.

In front of them stood death himself, and yet they smiled back at him.

Oh, how glorious their endings would be!

But among those with the wisdom of their own fates, there was one with blissful ignorance.

Rudolf screamed in fear, "Forget it! JUST DESTROY HIM! 6% OUTPUT!"