Irospect, there was a ba of details Burn had overlooked in the previous loops.

  Yes, he had quered Elysian quicker than this loop, and in the process, mao save the ckluster prince from the rather uizing fate of the royal inseminatioion, courtesy of Duchess Delone.

  But, the prince's problems didn't vanish into thin air.

  Sure, the king and the prinded up in svery, like today, but Duchess Delone's insemination pn had the resilience of a cockroa a nuclear fallout. It simply tinued in their sve days.

  Duchess Delone, ever the persistent schemer, squeezed out the st drops of her power and influence, ensuring the p ahead.

  Sometime ter, Burn came across a report that the boy had chosen the perma solution to his problem and itted suicide.

  Well, not that Burn cared.

  "I uand," Man said calmly, her voice as soothing as the breeze. "After what you've been through, your wariness of women is uandable."

  She gently disentangled her hand from Burn's arm and walked slowly towards the boy who had arrived with the other male desdants of the royal family. Her pace was measured and careful; she didn't want thten the boy.

  "Prince Ronald Elle, I apologize for my tardiness," Man said, bowing slowly and kneeling. "I regret that circumstances prevented me from saving you too."

  The boy was indeed wary, but he had heard from his cousins and distaives about a secret Fairy Godmother who protected the male desdants of the royal family.

  After the trauma he had endured, he was now uo speak... but if he could, he would have said—

  "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself to speak right now. I promise I'll take care of everything," Man said.

  Oddly enough, it was exactly what he had wao tell her. He was grateful she had protected the persecuted males of the royal family. He was relieved that, even after all they had endured, someone was still secretly helping them.

  "Your Majesty, give them a ce to free themselves from svery," Man said, turning to Burn. "I heard that you have a w allowing sves to buy themselves out of svery."

  Burn hummed in response, a small grin on his face. "As long as they prove more useful to my empire than the average sve, then yes."

  “Surely, they are,” Man smiled back.

  And just like that, the male desdants of the Elysian kingdom, in a stunning dispy of familial unity or perhaps well-rehearsed chraphy, raised their hands in unison.

  The air crackled with anticipation, a tangible electricity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up like attentive soldiers.

  From the tips of their outstretched fingers, a spectacle of fire magic began to bloom. It was as if someone had tapped into the core of the sun as essence spill forth through their hands.

  Fmes flickered and danced, painting the air with strokes of brilliant e and red, a living, breathing vas of light a. It was a sight to behold, a mesmerizing dispy that would make any pyromaniac green with envy.

  All of them, that is, except the prince. Poor chap, he stood there amidst this radiant spectacle, as bereft of magic as a fish out of water. Well, he would soon learn too.

  Because the secret behind this indiary spectacle was Man's destine lessons in the Vision art. Yes, she had teached these royal desdants how to harhe power within them and transform it into a spectacle that could rival the northern lights.

  She was their ‘Fairy Godmother’ after all.

  “Yvain will collect their proof of alliaer under a magical tract. Will this be suffit, Your Majesty?”

  Man Le Fay… to think that this was the oute…

  The people who were practically only reduced to sves and hid away their powers before had stepped up and offered their service—

  No matter how he looked at it, this timeline was more iing than his previous loops.

  ***

  Two kingdoms. Edensor and Elysian.

  In a matter of mere months, Soulnaught had ma them to their knees. It erformahat would have left even the most aplished querors feeling a tad bit ie.

  By this time, the whispered rumors of Soulnaught's triumphs would have tickled the ears of the folks at Inkia, Luminus, and even the frosty denizens of Wintersin.

  Their versations, previously filled with muopics like the weather or the test fashion, now revolved around this formidable pyer on the chessboard of kingdoms. A sense of unease had started to permeate the air, much like the faint smell of burnt toast insinuating an impending disaster.

  Now, let's delve into the recesses of Burn's memory of the past loops. You see, Inkia was not the type to throw iowel at the first sign of trouble. Oh no, they were more the 'grit your teeth and hang on for dear life' kind.

  They would pull every tri the book, py dirty, scheme, plot, and pretty much sell their grandmother if they had to, just to avoid uttering the dreaded 'S' word.

  Yes, surrender was a dish best served st in Inkia, always squeezed into the eleventh hour, much like the st guest who turns up just as the party is winding down.

  And Burn respected that.

  Inkia might not have had an army that scared anyone, but their King, His Shrewd Majesty Rafaye Inkor, was as sharp as a tabsp;

  He may have been an old fossil, but he had more es than a switchboard operator on speed dial. Backed by allies from every nook and y of the ti, His Majesty's work was as solid as a bou a biker bar.

  Now, militarily, he had Wintersin bag him up. Their ey was as robust as a weightlifter on steroids, thanks to their geographical gift of being a main trade route.

  Education? Well, they were as brainy as a basket of owls. With the establishment of Saint Lucia Academy and several other institutions, the kingdom ractically brimming with knowledge, like a library after a book fair.

  A's not fet the political world in the kingdom. It was as stimuted as a caffeine addi a coffee shop.

  However, as is often the case with seemingly perfect societies, there was a dark underbelly. Beh the shiny facade of prosperity and education, the shadows were teeming with things that would give morality itself a heart attack.

  Human traffig, both legal and illegal, was as on as daisies in a meadow. The gap between the rid poor, the noble and on, the strong and weak was wider than the Grand yon.

  If the sed prince of Wintersin had been born as the prince of Inkia, he would have been like a kid in a dy store.

  Inkia would have been the perfect pyground for him. It’s like a well-oiled mae desigo keep the dirt uhe rug, or in this case, the prince's 'extreme is' well away fr eyes.

  You see, in Wintersin, his antics were as spicuous as a peaco a penguin y. But in Inkia? His shenanigans would blend right in, tucked away ly beh the veneer of respectability. He could indulge his peculiar passions with the ease of a cat burgr in a dark alley.

  But—

  "Why did you paint me in that pose?!"

  Just as they set foot ba Soulnaught, this certain cat burgr darted in, swiping away his train of thought like a seasoned pickpocket.

  Burn swiveled around, his gaze nding oronomical beauty that was Man Le Fay. There she stood, a ic evening star in human form, posed in front of the painting he'd crafted during his desperate search for her a few months prior.

  Yep, that painting. The ohat now seemed as ie as a stick figure drawio the Mona Lisa. It couldn't capture the essence of her beauty. How could oil on vas pete with the living, breathing, radiay that was Man?

  Momo, oher hand, narrowed her eyes at him, a hint of suspi creeping intaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

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  I 't wait to release the feters. The ses have been pguing my mind since before I started this book. Chapters 59 to 70 will be such a wild ride and will solidify Man as Burn's perma panion. It is also the reason I like Man as a character (not including her backstory) more than anyone I've ever written. Speaking of backstories, I like Burn's more.

  Writing female characters in male MC stories is tricky. They could e off as annoying, stereotypical, and weak, or worse, a fug burden. But it doesn't mean there's no charm in those s. Annoyingness could be charming, and stereotypes take you a long way. Weakness, to be ho, is a matter of perspective, and a burden, well, no one deserves to be called a burden EXCEPT if they choose to be a burden.

  There will be lots of other female characters introduced ter iory who will be ied in Burn, and I'm sure I'll enjoy writing them NOT as two-dimensional as possible.