“You took everything away from her.”
A Vision user relied on their souls to produce and control mana. They could heal themselves, keeping their body healthy with automatic recovery magic if needed.
So even if her body was in a dire situation, Morgan would still be able to heal herself if given ti.
But, just when she was able to recover enough soul energy and recover her body after three years, suddenly, it was depleted again a couple of months ago.
Yes. The exact mont Burn returned from three years in the future…
More than him, Morgan was in a worse suffocating loop.
Three years from today, she would manage to wake up, and realizing that everything she loved was gone because of Burn, she would confront him and looped him back to three years prior, depleting her energy once again.
Ouroboros. She was a snake eating her own tail.
“Now that you have her in your possession, you can even manipulate her. You can use her disciple as your hostage and force her to nd the curse as much as you like, giving you advantage. As long as you keep her by your side…” Vlad paused.
“You might even beco a real immortal.”
Silence.
“That’s a good idea,” Burn smiled. “But why are you staring at like you’re going to kill ?”
“How could I kill you?” Vlad laughed. “You’re just going to go back to the predestined ti and her soul would be depleted once more.”
"Not to ntion the stacking effect," Vlad asked, his tone laced with concern.
"How many loops have you wasted already? With each loop, the penalty on her soul doubles. Even though she's the infinite witch and might eventually awaken, don't you think each ti it happens, she'll wake up further into the future?"
“But she always cos… at the exact ti,” Burn said.
“Just because she can, it doesn’t an it was easy, right?”
“It was her own stupid choice to curse !” Burn snapped.
“Because you took everything away from her,” Vlad reminded.
Silence once more.
“She was weak, and on the brink of death each ti. Yet she chose not to kill you with her remaining power. She chose to—”
“Kill herself,” Burn sighed.
Well, well.
Was it not the consequence of his own action?
"Why... didn't she kill ?" Burn murmured, confused, weary.
As he stood by the side of Morgan Le Fay's coffin, the weight of his question hung in the air.
He knew her capabilities were vast, perhaps limitless, and it puzzled him deeply why she chose to manipulate ti instead of simply eliminating him.
What was it about his existence that necessitated preservation rather than elimination? Did Morgan see him as a piece in a larger puzzle, one whose role was not yet fulfilled?
Did she want his power, like he wanted hers?
These thoughts filled Burn’s head as he gazed upon her serene, tiless face. The decision to rewind ti rather than killing him could imply that Morgan Le Fay believed in possibilities that were not yet apparent.
And he was rely dancing on top of her palm.
"About that, you'll have to ask her yourself when she wakes up," Vlad said. He then turned and walked away, leaving Burn alone in the chamber with his thoughts.
GRIT!
Burn's hand tightened around the edge of the open coffin. His grip was firm, perhaps desperate.
The coffin, made of dark, polished wood, seed to absorb the scant light, casting deep shadows around its edges.
If Burn's grasp were any stronger, the wood might splinter under the force, marring the coffin's sleek surface and disrupting the ticulously arranged ornants that surrounded it.
Such a breach could fracture the delicate balance of the chamber—because apparently, the vampires’ magic had helped her as much as they could to shelter and strengthen her.
When Burn’s eyes wandered around her face, in a blink, it almost looked like she opened her eyes, but no. Burn focused his eyes and he was wrong. It was just his own eyes playing tricks on him.
“Huh?” Burn realized sothing. “Just so ti ago… you’re still breathing…”
The man widened his eyes.
“Why aren’t you breathing?” Burn shoved his hands between the petals of roses, grazing the sharp thorns, touching her soft and cold cheek. “Breathe!”
Fear gripped him. If she died, he would return again—and her soul would—
“Morgan Le Fay, breathe!”
Her organ was failing. His Force could sense it. “No. This—”
This was what Vlad said earlier.
[“A couple of months ago, her soul energy suddenly depleted again. She lost her breath and almost died. Her entire organ was failing.”]
But what was happening? Why suddenly… Was it because she wasn’t fully recovered from the incident a couple of months ago?
If she died now, he would return back to before the war started.
“Don’t die, Morgan,” Burn was desperate now. “I didn’t kill your disciple this ti! Are you forcing to redo that again?”
“Morgan Le Fay!”
[“Try to kiss her~ like sleeping beauty~”]
“Tch!” Why did he rember that now?!
But—
GRASP! CLATTER–CLATTER!
“Mmh…”
A woman’s body was soft. But not only was she soft, she was also light, and thin. She felt fragile.
The mont their lips brushed together, and then pressed to each other, Burn’s Force started to ignite. She had no sign of Force at all, and her Vision was depleted alongside her soul energy.
Her body felt like an empty shell of a lifeless human.
Yet, she was alive. Unmistakably.
And he begged for her to stay alive.
“Ngh… mh…”
There! The subtle rise and fall of her chest had returned. The warmth that emanated from her skin, all reconfird her existence in this world.
‘Breathe!’ Burn scread from the deepest pit of his chest. ‘Breathe more, damnit!’
“GASP!”
She was gasping for air. Her empty eyes blinked open, and slowly focused… to see him.
“C…Caliburn… Soulnon Pendragon—”
“Don’t die after calling my na again,” Burn demanded as he grasped her cheek and jaw. “Breathe, Morgan.”
“Give … more…”
Burn sighed, his eyes complicated, but he relented and gave her more—kiss—Force.
It was akin to thirst. An insatiable longing that coursed through their veins. As their lips t, once again, she drank in his Force, inhaling it with an urgency that mirrored the need for air itself.
It was a desperate, forceful exchange, a silent communion that left them both yearning for more.
Her breath mingled with his, forming a delicate dance of desire and passion. Like a parched wanderer stumbling upon an oasis, she savored the taste of his Force, drawing it deep into her being.
It was an intoxicating exchange, a subtle yet powerful exchange of energies that left them both breathless.
“You’re killing . That should be enough, right?” Burn whispered at the end of it.
But the woman in front of him… had started to daze off again—
“Don’t die again, this bi—witch!”
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