Witchbound Villain: Infinite Loop

140 – Crown Prince of Soulnaught

“Where are the physicians?!”

Galahad and Percival paled, becoming two specters of alarm. Burn’s abrupt demand for every physician in existence felt like calling for the cavalry in an already crowded battlefield.

“Your Highness, His Majesty is a remarkably strong man. Though it appears grim, he’s merely—”

Burn shut his eyes, his fists trembling with a cocktail of fury and worry. Percival wisely fell silent.

“Where is my brother?” Burn demanded, his voice laced with barely concealed urgency.

“He mentioned he was preoccupied with state affairs and couldn’t return just yet, sir. After your return, he immediately strode back to his principality,” Galahad replied, his tone almost apologetic. “There have been unrelenting storms in his principality.”

“Call him. Make him return, no excuses, Galahad,” Burn insisted, a king amidst chaos. “I’m departing for a day. Percival, you’re in charge of His Majesty.”

The two exchanged glances, engaging in a silent conversation steeped in concern and resignation. His Highness, that stoic sentinel, usually remained a beacon of composure. This moment was an aberration—a rare glimpse into panic overshadowing his usually unflappable demeanor.

No, nothing was truly amiss; His Majesty simply had a slight cough—not the kind that warranted a royal summons of every doctor this side of the realm.

Their physicians were already the best, and although they seemed puzzled, there must’ve been something they could do before something fatal actually happened.

That man was Arthur Pendragon, for heavens’ sake!

Yet here they stood, caught in the undertow of Burn’s tempestuous anxiety. Leaving just a cough under Percival's vigilant gaze felt like using a castle door to hold a single ant.

After all, what could possibly go wrong with a bit of illness? Storms, the prince, and a cold—surely, nothing needed immediate attention, except, it seemed, Burn himself.

“Drag my brother home!” Burn bellowed before soaring into the sky.

Galahad didn’t dare dilly-dally. Just as he was about to dash off, Percival grasped his arm, as if anchoring him. “Something’s definitely off, but don’t go playing the martyr just to retrieve His Highness Prince Clarent against His Highness the Crown Prince’s whims.”

With a somber nod, Galahad replied, “I’m quite aware of the Eldest Prince’s temperament. He might detest the notion of being ordered around, but duty calls, doesn’t it?”

“Alright. Perhaps we should summon Young Duke Leodegrance. You secure an audience with him,” Percival suggested.

“Sure, let me just speak with Landevale,” Galahad responded.

Burn arrived at his hidden refuge deep in the mountains, opening the door urgently. He scrambled through his storage room, as if

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