Cursed Heir System: Revenge Against the Gods

Alan clutched his sword's hilt. The only sound he could hear was the roar of his heartbeat.

Thomas Fitzgerald was walking toward them calmly, like a man used to taking control of every room he entered.

Alan could hardly hear what Sharra was saying to him. Her voice came muffled and far away, as if she were speaking from under water. His vision blurred slightly as sweat formed on his forehead and he took slow breaths to calm himself.

A part of him wanted to pull out his sword and kill Thomas right there.

No, he thought as his jaw was tightening. Not now. He's too strong and has the God of War. Rare blessing, and Alan wouldn't survive. Even if he killed him there, there won't be any chance of survival.

That thought brought him back to his senses.

He needs to stay low for the time being, as it was just the start of his plan, and he needed to wait for the right moment to take his revenge.

He released his sword hilt and took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger burning inside him.

As Thomas walked past them, Alan lowered his head toward Sharra, hiding the killing intent in his eyes.

But suddenly, a memory flashed in his mind. Tobias's last words to him: 'Run to the forest, Alan. I'll hold them off.'

That memory hit his head hard, which made him realize that he had something that no one has, and a small, wild grin appeared on his lips that surprised Sharra. She raised an eyebrow as she was confused.

"Alan?" Anna's concerned voice broke through his thoughts. She touched his shoulder gently. "Are you okay?"

He turned to her with a small smirk on his face. "Sorry, Lady Anna. Just… remembered something I need to take care of," he said and looked at Sharra, who noticed something worse in his gaze.

The Duchess looked into his blue eyes, and her own amber eyes narrowed as she sensed something dark in his gaze.

Without saying anything, Alan turned and started walking down the hallway. He pulled up the black mask around his neck, covering the lower half of his face.

"Grey-hair, what the hell are you doing?" Moriko asked, confused by what he was doing. But Alan didn't answer her. His eyes were fixed on the man walking ahead of him.

"Lord Fitzgerald," Alan called out loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

He slowed down and turned around with a mildly irritated expression. "Yes? Who are you?" the Duke asked, his brows tightening as he saw the masked knight of Nocelle approaching.

Alan stopped a few steps away, posture straight, voice cold. "Alan Verdelane. Official knight under House Nocelle."

The Duke's expression remained unreadable.

Alan's next words dropped like a blade between them.

"I know where your first son is right now."

Thomas Fitzgerald blinked as he was momentarily confused. "What are you talking about? My first son died six years ago."

Alan slowly reached his mask and pulled it down.

"No," he said. "He's right here."

Thomas stared at Alan, not recognizing his own first son. Of course he's older now and weathered by time and suffering. The boy he had cast aside, beaten, and abandoned… was gone. In his place stood a man.

The Duke took a half-step forward with irritation as he clenched his jaw. "Don't play games with me…"

Alan's smile was slow and bitter. "Come on, Father. It hurts when you forget your own son. You gave me a little gift, remember? You fractured my right arm clean just because I didn't get a blessing."

Thomas's eyes widened with the memory crashing into him with brutal clarity.

The courtyard seemed still, the air growing heavy as Thomas froze, his face paling.

"Alane?" He whispered with his voice cracking. "No… it can't be. You—you died."

Alan took another step forward with eyes locked on him.

"You thought I was dead?" Alan's smile twisted. "No. I am right here, Father."

The Duke's mouth opened and hesitated, and that was what Alan wanted. He quickly pulled a small combat knife from his belt and stabbed it straight into Thomas's heart before the man could move.

People around them gasped in shock, but Alan didn't stop. He pulled Thomas close, their faces just inches apart, almost like a son hugging his father.

"Dead?" Alan whispered. "How could I die when I've been waiting for this moment?" He drove the knife in again, and again, and again. Each filled with rage that he barely contained for years. The Duke's body jerked weakly until it could no longer resist.

Alan held him close, as he drained life from the man who once called him a mistake.

Then he laughed, it's a terrible, unhinged and raw laughter. His shoulders trembled as he breathed, filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. His blood covered hands let the knife fall as the Duke's lifeless body dropped at his feet.

Anna's hands flew to her mouth, her silver braid slipping over her shoulder as she staggered back. This wasn't her knight. This was a stranger with Alan's face, painted in blood and grinning like a demon.

The others could only watch in shock and fear as Alan stepped back, unsteady like a drunk, covered in blood. His smile was wide—wild, broken, and full of manic joy.

But the high didn't last as a silver blur came from the corridor in front.

The elven knight had returned and Alan turned to him, but it's too late already.

Shhhhhunk.

The sword cleaved down through the shoulder and spine in one perfect arc. Time seemed to stop as Alan's body split cleanly in two, collapsing onto the floor with blood pooling beneath.

[Skill: Return by Death activated!]

[Checkpoint Retained!]

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"So… you did all that?" the green-haired Duchess asked softly, without showing any hint of anger in her tone.

Alan's breath hitched suddenly. His blue eyes widened locked onto hers. He stumbled a little, bending forward as the pain from being sliced almost in half like onion still burned through him. His fingers twitched, and he breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to keep something explosive inside from breaking out.

He was back in that moment again where Duchess Sharra asked about his confrontation against Fire Champion.

"Alan?" Janine asked gently as she reached out and nudged his shoulder. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

He didn't answer. His eyes weren't on her, but were on Thomas Fitzgerald who's walking past them as if nothing happening here. The same stride, the same smug calm.

Alan's breath caught in his throat. Every cell in his body urges to kill him again, to tear him apart, again.

He could use his Return by death ability. He could do it, he can kill him again and again and again—

But no.

That would ruin the satisfaction that will come from that one true moment. The real death of Thomas.

So Alan gritted his teeth and forced his hands to stay still.

But one day… oh, one day…

A slow, crooked smile played across his lips as his breath steadied.

He would wait.

Because revenge was a dish best served without a time-loop's interruption.