Witchbound Villain: Infinite Loop

It was a sight to behold. Absorbing pure heat and light the White Dwarf vomited, he was almost no longer in the shape of a man.

Picture this: his skin, once a subtle shade of pale, now glowed like a neon sign at a rundown carnival. It was as if he had bathed in the essence of a supernova, and his complexion was here to prove it.

[Lumigryn esheridynn, thylyra ael'rinnor naithryn, aeshoryslyn xeril, lumithyr draesthris, lyssaryn'lyn lershaithyr denunaishalo vaedryn alysyn, luminara dreithryn ael'varinthynn lyriistindar…]

His hair, oh his hair, decided it was tired of being just hair. It shimmered like strands of precious metals, catching the light in a way that would make a disco ball jealous. Each follicle seemed to whisper secrets of the cosmos, as if the universe itself had taken up residence on his scalp.

[Dol'nae'vyr alasaryn kythendara, laedaraen ryndraestyr thyrindae kythendyr valyn, viirydol viilylyn'sindaer lomor, luminara heyllis, teryndaelon, hynaii, hynaii, hynaii—]

His eyes, windows to the soul and all that jazz, were no longer mere orbs of vision; they were swirling vortexes of galaxies colliding. Staring into his gaze was like trying to count the stars on a moonless night—a dizzying, exhilarating experience that left anyone questioning their very existence.

[Hymbrim, sothar lumihyr ael'rinnor shin'lyssals, araynthir virlys'arynethor riandranaes, lumirar dael'naa, vinae'lyn soulaera saendryn'shin, aldryrn viilastar verin'dorah luminae'shyn…]

[Lathynaedin, nindryn viilylyn, viraelor luminae'shyn!]

And his mana? Oh, dear. It swirled around him like a force field of pure energy, crackling with power and potential. One couldn't help but be drawn to him, as if his mere presence was a promise of something greater, something beyond mortal comprehension.

BZZZZZZZZT—

What do you think the sun sounded like up close?

When everything was absorbed into him, suddenly his presence blackened. Light bent around him—no, light itself was being absorbed toward the empty silhouette of his being.

What they heard at that moment wasn’t the sound of the sun. It was the sound of a black hole—absorbing even the sound of Morgan’s holy song.

But she didn’t stop.

[Mirendolara inyrlynth shylryndaes, viitalthyr litharysyr myrlynthor viilera lumirar, vindenyr lumithalii aelinii alysen vilthyn, hymdril'lo—]

[Aelyrilyn raethoryn'thor'lyn, araynendal voe'haeris hynaelleth hynaelleth hynaelleth…]

BZZZZZZZZZZZZT—

It was just a split second, but it felt like eternity. Burn was lost in himself, the outline of his being almost shifted to another plane of existence.

Danger.

Ahhh, how could he be so complacent? He almost let even himself be absorbed in the process. Thankfully, he could still hear her voice.

[Hymbrim, sothar lumerys rynniru'shaaleth, vael'nae shylindrae virlys'arynethor, verin'dorah araynthir aeslyn vennethor shyrinales, verli las'anaaes nia'serith verin'dorah aelysyn…]

[Aldryrn viilastar nora mylath nindyr rynnae, hestarii lun'dor syrallyn'senth velessa'lyn nia—]

[Luminexa'ryn, nindryn viilylyn, viraelor luminae'shyn…]

Burn's body majestically descended, showcasing a truly mesmerizing glow that defied all logic. Meanwhile, Morgan valiantly grappled with the mana field encasing him, seemingly determined to give Burn a quick "how are you holding up" check in the midst of it all.

Burn, worrying if he would hurt her with his atomized body, said with his voice echoing in a strange wave of sound, “Wait.”

“Just a quick touch. Checking your soul, that’s all,” Morgan said.

Extending his hand after recalibrating his body for a second, Burn took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his palm, inspecting his arms and body carefully. “Okay. Touch.”

Morgan slowly touched his skin, and the moment they made contact, she felt a shiver down her body.

“Scary?” Burn asked.

“You can rip me apart so easily now,” Morgan said with a smile.

Burn creased his eyebrows, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Tsk tsk. Don’t start what you can’t finish, Madam.”

“Stop,” Morgan almost snapped at him, but the smile on her face didn’t go away. Slowly touching him with her entire palm, she sighed in awe.

Looking around, Burn could see so much more with his eyes now. “I can see stars despite the daylight now. That’s neat.”

Not only that, he could see the flow of mana, small mundane waves in the air from sound and other things, and he could see so many more colors. It was weird that with everything more he was able to comprehend with his eyes, Morgan just stayed the same—cosmically gorgeous.

Merely seeing her now made him experience information overload. Seeing something so devastatingly beautiful in detail had overwhelmed his brain so much that he had to frown and narrow his eyes.

“Why are you making that face again? It’s been a while since you made that face at me…” Morgan felt a bit helpless. This particular face of Burn made him look scary.

“Tone it down. Don’t smile,” Burn said.

Morgan chuckled, “Pfff—this again?”

“Your Majesty!”

Yvain ran toward them with his short legs, clutching Burn’s robe to his chest. As he approached, he asked with concern, “Are you okay?”

“It’s a success,” Burn replied, “As expected.”

Coming up behind Yvain were the other spectators. Galahad stood with a broken shield, Finn and his people wore looks of horror, and... there was Dirk. He removed his helmet and appeared stunned. “Damn... I thought I had killed you.”

“Not even a trace of radiation in the air,” Morgan muttered as she helped Burn put on his robe. “You absorbed everything.”

“This is like feasting on nuclear bombs for breakfast…” Dirk remarked. “Are you actually a god? Is this one of the Seven Heavens or something?”

“Congratulations, Your Majesty,” Galahad said, restraining his instinctive urge to kneel before Burn, understanding the Emperor's desire to avoid any unnecessary commotion at this moment.

Yet, more than anyone present, Galahad understood the magnitude of Burn's achievement with his Force art. It was unprecedented in history—

Burn just hummed, his eyes focused on Finn, who he hadn’t greeted yet, and who hadn’t spoken a single word yet.

So, Burn invited, “I’m curious what food tastes like with this body now. Let’s eat.”

"Food!" Yvain exclaimed, darting towards the small camp they had set up the day before.

Morgan and Burn couldn't help but notice Yvain's sudden fixation on food. The kid seemed perpetually stuck in that awkward pre-pubescent phase, probably due to a diet that was about as balanced as a unicycle on a tightrope.

He looked one or two years younger than he actually was, not to mention boys usually hit puberty late.

Well, sure, he was a king and all, ruling at an age when most kids were still mastering the art of tying their own shoelaces. But hey, stress didn't discriminate, folks. Even with a buffet fit for a king and naps longer than a full afternoon, your body would still be like, "Emergency mode: activated."

But now, with Morgan back in the fold, vanquishing his worries, and Burn’s Force art training sessions, Yvain's stomach was singing the ballad of hunger like a hungry hobbit at elevenses.

The prospect of a growth spurt loomed on the horizon, promising a transformation from pint-sized king to towering titan in just a few months, following in the lofty footsteps of the Edensor Royal Families' genetic giants.

"Maybe you're right," Burn suddenly said to Morgan as he guided the way for his guests and subordinates with authoritative ease.

"Hmm?" Morgan turned to him, asking for context. Despite their linked arms, it wasn’t like she read his mind all the time.

"Last night, you said Yvain looks lonely. We should enroll him in the academy, let him meet his peers, make friends, and the like," Burn said.

Morgan blinked, her expression conveying a hint of pleasant surprise. "Oh, my... Caliburn…"

"Yeah," Burn shrugged. "Isn't it time for the academy's entrance test?"

Galahad, Finn, and Dirk wondered if they had transitioned into a family/slice-of-life genre.