Reincarnated as the disaster prince

The hall was filled with joy as Cahir's men and his twin sons crowded around Mimi, their faces alight with awe and gratitude. They embraced her, calling her a miracle and even going so far as to call Theodore an angel.

Cahir, standing slightly apart, hesitated. He knew better. The ten-year-old boy was no angel. Far from it. Theodore radiated a sinister intelligence and ambition that made his skin crawl. But he held his tongue. For now, his men's loyalty was a valuable asset, and their faith in Theodore only strengthened that bond.

Turning to face Theodore, Cahir knelt down, bowing his head deeply. "We are in your debt, my prince. My men and I swear our undying loyalty to you. Whatever you require of us, we will provide."

Theodore raised a hand dismissively, smiling with a deceptive warmth. "There's no need for such formality," he said, his voice carrying an air of magnanimity. "I promise I will not use you for anything... evil."

Cahir's unease deepened, but he remained silent, masking his suspicion with a respectful nod.

Theodore stretched, signaling that it was time to leave. As Cahir stood, he offered, "Allow me to prepare a carriage for your journey, my prince. It's the least I can do."

Theodore shook his head. "No need. I'd prefer to walk." His tone left no room for argument.

And so, Theodore, Belial, and Mimi—still carrying little Luna—departed on foot. They walked into the dense forest that bordered the mercenary guild, the towering trees casting long shadows as the sky darkened. Once they were deep enough to avoid prying eyes, Belial raised a hand, summoning a swirling portal. The air grew heavy as the gateway materialized, leading directly to Theodore's dormitory.

The three stepped through, and the quiet of the forest was replaced by the familiar stillness of Theodore's private quarters. The room was dimly lit, its atmosphere heavy with the scent of aged wood and parchment. Theodore collapsed onto a chair, a rare look of satisfaction on his face.

Belial watched him with a curious smirk. "You seem pleased, my lord. But I have to ask—why didn't you deal with the Marquess directly? He's an obvious threat, and you had the opportunity."

Theodore's crimson eyes glinted as he leaned back, a calculating smile playing on his lips. "The Marquess is a figure of immense influence. His power extends to key regions of the Kiran Continent. Striking him down now would be premature—it would create chaos, yes, but it would also alert my enemies. I want to unravel the network of those who plotted my death first."

Belial nodded, his admiration evident. "And what about the queen?

Theodore's smile darkened, and he folded his hands together. "The queen is no longer a concern. Since She's been... replaced."

Belial ask "what role will she play my lord"

Theodore nodded. "She will act as my pawn, feeding me information about the king—my father—and the Marquess. They'll never suspect a thing."

Belial chuckled, shaking his head in admiration. "You truly are a master of the long game, my lord. The Marquess and the king won't know what hit them."

Theodore's smile widened as he leaned back in his chair, the glow of triumph in his crimson eyes. "Let them believe they hold the power. By the time they realize the truth, it will already be too late."

Theodore had just sunk into the soft embrace of his bed, his mind replaying the day's triumphs and schemes, when a sharp knock shattered the peace. His crimson eyes flickered open, irritation swirling within them as he rose. He strode to the door and opened it slightly, his glare meeting the face of Mr. Roman, who stood with his ever-imposing aura.

"It's late," Theodore said curtly, barely concealing his annoyance. "I won't attend to you now."

But Roman was unfazed. "We need to talk," he replied firmly. "You'll either cooperate, or I'll ensure your punishment for sneaking out of the academy becomes far more severe."

Theodore sighed, stepping aside reluctantly. "Very well," he muttered, glancing at Belial. "Prepare some refreshments."

As Belial busied himself, Mr. Roman took a seat, his gaze never leaving Theodore. "I'll get straight to the point," he began. "Earlier tonight, I sensed a massive wave of mana. Dark magic, unmistakable. Were you involved?"

Theodore raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Dark magic? That's absurd," he said smoothly. "I wouldn't even know where to begin with such magic."

Roman's eyes narrowed, his suspicion deepening. "Don't pretend with me, boy. I've been around long enough to recognize a liar."

Theodore sighed theatrically, maintaining his mask of innocence. "With all due respect, Mr. Roman, I've been in my room all evening. You've seen my magic—it's elemental, not dark."

Unsatisfied, Roman lunged forward, gripping Theodore's wrist. His mana flared as he delved into Theodore's veins, searching for any trace of darkness. But as before, Theodore's mana was spotless, pure as a saint's. Roman released his grip, confusion etched across his weathered face.

"Impossible," the old mage muttered, leaning back in his chair. "I could've sworn..."

Theodore saw an opportunity to shift the conversation. "Mr. Roman," he said casually, "you've lived for centuries, haven't you? Tell me—are you truly human?"

Roman's expression hardened, the question clearly striking a nerve. "There are things, Theodore, that are best left unknown," he replied coldly.

Theodore's lips curved into a knowing smirk. "Then let's make a deal. Just as there are things I don't need to know about you, there are things you don't need to know about me. Rest assured, I don't dabble in evil magic. What I wield is something... greater."

Roman's brows furrowed as he rose to his feet, his frustration mounting. "You're an enigma, Theodore. But mark my words—I'll be watching you closely."

As Roman turned to leave, his eyes flicked to Belial. He paused, studying the demon's face. "Your face," Roman murmured, "feels... familiar."

Belial stiffened, his gaze locked onto Roman's. But he said nothing, his silence speaking volumes. Roman lingered for a moment before shaking his head and leaving, the door closing softly behind him.

The room was quiet again, the tension dissipating. Theodore exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned against the edge of his bed. "That man is relentless," he muttered, a trace of admiration in his tone.

Belial smirked as he placed the tea tray on the table. "He's dangerous. But you handled him well."

Theodore chuckled, sipping his tea. "Let him keep watching. By the time he uncovers anything, it will already be too late. Everything is progressing perfectly."

Belial raised an eyebrow. "And what's next, my lord?"

Theodore's eyes gleamed with ambition. "Now, we prepare. The gods will come for this world one day, and when they do, I'll ensure to grow stronger. But first, there's a kingdom to dismantle piece by piece. Let the game begin."

He smiled, a predator savoring the hunt, as the future unfolded in his mind.