Defeat, Gather, Evacuate, Run, a.

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

  Oh, the Elysian capital didn't know what was ing for them. The Soulnaught Army had their sights ordered on quest, ready to snatch the like a greedy child grabbing for the st 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 on folk and their precious belongings? Cheothing valuable would be left behind. They still had time after all, so, take away everything.

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

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

  A's not fet the predestined route, carefully crafted through Burn's past loop experiences.

  They would traverse the capital, the northern border, award, through rugged ndscapes 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 pybook than a disciplined military operation. Like a rowdy gang of mists, they would swoop down upon unsuspeg cities, pilging their precious resources, and then swiftly move on to the arget.

  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 particurly aggressive sightseeing spree.

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

  With their pièce de résistahe advaeology from those outsiders. those gadgets and gizmos, and the added bonus of their Ford Vision, the Soulnaught Army ractically unstoppable.

  And Burn?

  He would apany 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 effit in their assault on Elysian. This meant that the poor prince didn't have to ehe royal seed insemination pn.

  But as, the young prind his father, along with a multitude of nobles, were instead o a life of svery. 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 and auro being practical, a signifit amount of time had been lost. The young prince might be...

  As Burn's presence graced the threshold of the Elysian pace, 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 pilged by his rambunctious Soulnaught Army while he strolled through the seemingly empty pace.

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

  The opulent tapestries and ornate deliers remained mere wito the chaos unfolding beyond the pace walls. Horrifying, horrifying sight.

  The emptiness surrounding Bur palpable, like a ghostly preseg his every move. The whispers of the wind carried the faint echoes of ughter and muffled screams, a symphony of triumph and terror orchestrated by his own army.

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

  Burn pressed forward, trag 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 ve.

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

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

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

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

  Amidst the chaos, everyoempted 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 y 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 eg through the depths of the pace.

  Shielded from the otion in the capital, they remained oblivious to the chaos unfolding outside. And as for aempting to report the situation to the pace, Burn's ing subordinates had intercepted them.

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

  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 hindrao her ability to flee.

  Uurbed by her departure, Burn approached the naked boy lying on the floor. Resting atop a fur b, its dark ight 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 sembnodesty. Carefully, he gathered the child in his arms, notig the vat look in the boy's eyes, an indication of the loss of his innoce.

  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 fusion evident.

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