Cursed Heir System: Revenge Against the Gods

Morning came pretty quickly. The sunlight filtered through the curtains and fell across the small room Alan was staying in.

He stood by the window, quietly buttoning up his white knight's shirt, tied his white combat boots and then the white-and-red cloak bearing the sigil of House Nocelle. His reflection in the mirror looked… passable, presentable. Like a knight, at least on the outside.

Then a knock came at the door. But it was creaked open by the cheerful cat-girl before he could answer.

Moriko stepped in; she was already dressed in her guard uniform. Her freshly brushed short hair was mostly in place, though a stubborn strand still curled near her cheek like always. Her golden eyes sparkled with mischief and her tail swishing energetically.

"Oi, grey-hair," she grinned with hands on her hips. "Are you ready or what?"

Alan gave a faint nod as he cinched the belt at his waist and adjusted his sword. "Yeah. Let's get this over with."

They walked down the hallway of the tall building, their footsteps softly echoing on the shiny stone floor. They stood in the fifteenth-floor hallway, looking down at the floors below. The height made the view dizzying. Far below, priests and nobles moved around the stairs.

When they reached the railing, Moriko leaned forward over the metal bars—far too much for Alan's comfort.

"Damn," she muttered with a blink. "I didn't notice last night, but this place is high. Fifteenth floor, right? Alan, if I fall, you're diving after me."

"Don't tempt me," he muttered dryly while tugging her collar to pull her back.

But her attention had shifted. "Wait, is that Janine?"

She pointed at the tenth-floor corridor where the tanned champion stood with arms crossed as she was having a conversation with some people. Without waiting, Moriko ran for the stairs, without even looking where she was going, and slammed directly into a knight walking up from below.

"Ah—ouch!" She yelped as she bounced back and fell on her rear, her tail puffing up in surprise.

The knight didn't budge. The impact barely moved his strong frame. He turned slowly, revealing a tall, sharply built blonde elf with a striking face. "Don't you watch where you're going?" he asked with his voice cool but not unkind.

But then his eyes settled on her twitching cat ears, and his eyes widened. "Beastkin...?"

Alan stepped forward, offering a hand to Moriko. He pulled her to her feet with an ease. "Sorry about that," he said casually as he turned to the elven knight. "She's like a stray cat with too much energy."

The elf's eyes shifted to Alan's chest, catching the Nocelle sigil stitched over his shirt. "...Nocelle's knight?"

Alan's eyes noticed the Fitzgerald symbol on the elf's knight uniform. He doesn't remember an elf working when he was there, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he stayed calm and polite. He reached out his hand with a small smile.

"Alan, personal knight of Lady Anna Nocelle," he said.

The elf hesitated for a fraction of a second. He'd heard of him, the commoner who'd risen to knighthood by bleeding Janine and also stood against the fire champion yesterday.

The elf clasped his hand with him. "Alasdair Ralomoira, personal knight of Duke Thomas Fitzgerald."

The name sent a jolt through Alan's spine. His grip instinctively tightened, a subtle but sharp squeeze that the elf felt. But Alan's face remained composed and calm.

Moriko, rubbing her hip, huffed. "Okay, pointy-ears, sorry for dashing into you." She hooked her arm around Alan's with a cheeky grin. "Let's go, grey-hair."

Alas raised a brow and chuckled lightly. "Be careful, Sir Alan," he said with a smile. "You're attracting interesting company."

As they walked away, Alan didn't look back, but Alas did.

Then he stared down at his hand, which was still tingling slightly from that pressure. There'd been something in that grip.

They stepped onto the tenth floor which is dedicated to Noble's quarters, the polished marble beneath them gleaming with early light. The corridor opened into a wide veranda lined with columns and Alan spotted her.

Anna stood beside Janine, already talking to a temple messenger. She's wearing a long silver dress that makes her look like a noble truly blessed by the gods. Her silver hair was braided neatly and decorated with a fine silver clip.

She looked like someone out of a royal painting. She's elegant, distant, and perfect.

Alan slowed his steps when he saw her crimson eyes notice him and she smiled.

She stepped forward with her dress making a soft rustling sound, and gave Alan a gentle nod.

"Good morning, Alan," she said with a quiet but cheerful voice. "Did you sleep well? The view from up here is amazing, isn't it?"

Alan gave a polite nod. "I did, my lady. The view is excellent," he said softly, it's gentle enough to sound polite, but with just enough edge to make her eyes flicker.

Anna blushed slightly and looked away. At that moment, she didn't seem like a noble who's aiming for the throne, but a young girl who can't look at some guy.

Behind Alan, Moriko, clearly annoyed at being ignored, has crossed her arms. "Hmph," she muttered with her ears twitching in irritation.

Janine approached her and gently placed a hand on Moriko's head and playfully ruffled her hair. "Easy, kitty," she said with a teasing smile.

The cat-girl immediately deflated, muttering, "I'm not a pet," but didn't protest further.

Alan turned back to Anna. "You look beautiful today, my lady. I'm guessing today's meeting is with the High Priest?"

"Yes," she said, quickly regaining her calm. "The Concreda has called all the important people in the kingdom for an emergency meeting. It's about the message the last Bishop left before his passing."

She looked into his eyes with a small teasing smile.

"And make sure you don't get into trouble again like you did yesterday."

"What trouble?" came a smooth voice like a silk wrapped around a blade.

Anna flinched, her shoulders stiffened as she turned, the smile faded from her face as she saw her adopted mother standing behind her.

Duchess Sharra Nocelle crossed arms, her eyes sharp with amusement.

"I heard there was a little incident the moment I left," Sharra said with a smooth yet chilling tone. "Anna, dear… care to explain?"

Anna laughed nervously, avoiding her mother's gaze like a child caught with stolen sweets. "Well… Mother. It was nothing serious. Just some… small talk, really," she scrambled that excuse to shield Alan from her mother's scrutiny.

Sharra's amber eyes narrowed with a knowing glint. "Small talk, hm?"

She didn't press, she didn't need to. Her amber eyes shifted to Alan, who stood straight with calm expression under her silent demand for the truth.

Your Grace," Alan began, his voice steady and unflinching, "after you left, Paul Petersen, the Fire Champion, approached Lady Anna. He tried to touch her and I noticed Lady Anna felt uncomfortable. So, I stepped in and told him to back off."

Sharra tilted her head slightly, as if unimpressed. "Is that all?" she asked as her gaze shifted to the tanned beauty.

Janine's lips twitched with irritation. She scratched her chin before speaking.

"No, it's not. That son of a bitch Paul didn't just stop at crowding Anna. He tried to punch Alan's face. It would've killed him if I hadn't stepped in at the last second."

The corridor went quiet for a moment as Sharra stared at Janine. Then she slowly turned back to Alan with an unreadable expression.

"So… you did all that?" she asked softly, not showing any hint of anger.

Alan's blue eyes met hers, but then shifted past her, drawn to a figure at the far end of the hallway.

He's looking at a tall, middle-aged man with neatly tied blonde hair walking toward them. Even from a distance, he gave off a strong and powerful presence.

It's Thomas Fitzgerald, the biological father of Alan.

Alan's right hand started to aching as he remembered the time Thomas had broken it in anger.

Without thinking, his left hand moved to grip the handle of his sword.