Cursed Heir System: Revenge Against the Gods

The forest trail twisted through dense forest, with golden patches of sunlight peeking through the trees. With her arms outstretched as though she were embracing the wind, Moriko skipped forward, her bare feet touching the damp ground. 

Her tail swayed with her steps, and her ears perked up at every rustle of leaves and chirp of birds. Laughing as sparrows soared into the trees, she flicked low branches and ran her fingers along rough tree bark.

She turned with a playful pout, "Hey, Alan." 

"Where exactly are we heading? Why are we circling around like lost children when you said that the straight path leads to the town?

Alan walked behind her with steady steps. The bandages on his forearms brushed leaves as he moved, his blue eyes locked on her. 

"Straight paths are too obvious," he said in a short tone. "We can't just walk into town. They'll be hunting us by now."

Moriko tilted her head, ears flicking with curiosity. "Hunting us? Why?"

He kept his eyes on the path. "We killed guards and slaves in the mines. That place is a mess, probably would be shut down for months. We're fugitives now, and Duke Danel's not the type to let that slide."

Moriko halted and turned to look at him, her golden eyes narrowed. "Duke Danel? Do you think he is already looking for us? There was chaos there because of that creepy monster! In all that confusion, they couldn't notice the two slaves escaping."

His lips formed a grim smirk and he shook his head. "You don't know the Duke. He is not a typical lazy aristocrat drinking wine. He is ruthless and sharp. If anyone's piecing together what happened, it would be him."

Her ears drooped slightly as her playful demeanor faded. "Have you met him?"

Alan's eyes darkened as he recalled seeing the Duke's icy eyes when he met him as a kid and hearing tales of his cruelty. The man was a monster disguised as a human.

"Yeah," he said in a short voice. "A long time ago, and he's not someone you underestimate."

Moriko nodded. "Okay. So we should stay unnoticed. What's the plan, then?"

Alan glanced at her with a softened smirk. "We keep moving, stay off main roads, and find a place to hide. A small village, maybe. Somewhere they won't look."

She grinned, her tail flicking again. "Fine, but you're buying me food when we get there, gray-hair."

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The campfire embers glowed dimly at the now-empty riverbank, releasing thin gray smoke into the crisp morning air. 

Zoe stood quiet by the charred woods, her dark cloak billowing in the breeze and her sleek black mask reflecting the embers' light. 

Like a predator pursuing its prey, she stood. 

With her boots silent on the soft ground, she took a step forward and observed the fish bones and leaf plates strewn about. 

Her eyes then shifted to the mud, where two distinct sets of footprints—one small and light, the other larger—were visible.

Zoe tilted her head as she focused on the smaller print. 

She crouched and hovered her fingers on the footprint, a shimmer of grey mana flowed from her fingers, sinking into the mud like mist. The air hummed for a moment, and her head snapped up, her body tensing as if the mana had shown her a path. 

She stood, adjusting her cloak with a quick, sharp motion. Without a sound, she turned and vanished into black mist.

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Alan seated on a wooden bench inside a small clothing shop in the small border town. He wore black pants and a plain gray shirt that he brought freshly.

The changing room curtain swished, and Moriko stepped out, twirling once in a light, flowing white one piece dress. She struck a pose, hands on hips, her golden eyes gleaming with happiness after wearing gold clothes for the first time in many years.

"How do I look?" She asked.

He furrowed his brow. "All right."

Moriko sulked in a phony rage. "Rude! You know I look fantastic."

The shopkeeper behind them was a thin old woman, narrowed her eyes to Moriko's. Beastfolk were rare these days, and even fewer walked in smiling like they belonged. 

Alan got up and took the silver coins out of his pocket and placed them on the counter. He said, "Keep the change."

The shopkeeper was surprised as Alan grabbed the small bundle of their new clothes and turned to the door. "Let's go, Moriko."

Moriko followed as she glanced at the shopkeeper. With a cheeky grin, she called out, "Gramma, thanks for the dress!"

The streets of the town glowed with the warm orange light of sunset, the sun dipping behind the distant hills. The air filled with the scent of dusty earth, stew, and baked bread.

It's a small town. The locals looked at strangers like Alan and Moriko with quiet suspicion.

Alan walked slowly, almost absently, his eyes fixed on the uneven road beneath his feet.

What now…?

All he could think about in the mines was getting even with them for every breath and pain. However, reality hits him after he gains his freedom.

They were untouchable, protected nobles, not merely slavers or guards. 

His brother was no longer merely a favorite son. He was nearly invincible as he was the Sun God's chosen champion.

Alan's fists clenched.

He was given a chance by Return by Death—yes, a cursed blessing that allowed him to repeatedly rewrite failure.

But he wouldn't get justice with just willpower and a curse. Not in opposition to the gods. Not against smiling, crown-wearing monsters.

I have to get ready; if I get all of them together, I might destroy them all. I need allies, power, and knowledge.

"Alannnn!"

Moriko's annoyed voice broke through.

Two shopkeepers and a woman carrying a basket turned to stare at her twitching ears and swaying tail as her loud energy caught their attention.

She poked a finger into his chest and hissed, "Where the hell is your head at? You've spent the entire day dozing off. You're just... gone all while I'm talking to you."

Alan blinked, his mind still focused on his plans. He rubbed his neck and muttered, "I'm... thinking."

She proceeded to poke his chest once more, saying, "Don't give me that look."

She interrupted him as he opened his mouth.

"Also, I'm hungry. You have to buy me dinner."

A second went by. Alan rubbed his head and sighed. "....all right." 

Her face brightened at once. "Well done."

She grabbed his arm and gently pulled him toward the town square, where lanterns were beginning to glow.

Maybe I just have to wait... let the right opportunity come to me.

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The silver-trimmed noble carriage rattled along the muddy Tolheller Route, flanked by twelve guards, their eyes sweeping the surroundings for danger.

Inside, Anna Nocella's red eyes glinted in the carriage window's reflection. Delicate silver clasps, shaped like crescent leaves, pinned back her long, icy silver-blue hair, shimmering in the sunlight. Her finger tapped restlessly on her knee, and tiny sapphire earrings swayed, catching the light with every jolt.

"Is it really necessary to attend some old priest's funeral?" she muttered with irritation.

Madam Marlene—her etiquette tutor and personal maid sat across from her, hands folded neatly in her lap. Eyes closed as if compressing her impatience, she gave a tight smile.

"Lady Nocella, it's essential. As a contender for this continent's next ruler, appearing at the Concordia temple is expected. Your reputation with the people and the church matters now."

Anna leaned back against the cushioned seat. "First I was dragged into politics, now a funeral. What's next, a death parade?"

Madam Marlene's smile thinned, but before she could respond, the carriage jolted violently and screeched to stop abruptly. Mud splattered across the windows as Anna slammed a hand against the wall to steady herself.

"What was that?" she asked.

Marlene pulled back the curtain and pushed the door open. "What's happening out there?"

The closest guard, a blond haired knight, took out his sword, its blade blazing with flames. "Stay inside, Madam Marlene! We're having trouble!" he barked, slamming the door shut. The sound reverberated inside, drowned out by the clatter of armor and the snorting of horses outside.

Anna's eyes met Marlene's. "Bandits?" she asked.

Marlene's hand tightened on the seat's edge. "Or worse."