Reincarnated as the disaster prince

Theodore stood frozen, his mind spinning as Anita explained the horrifying truth.

"So, the current chief knows everything?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Anita gave him a bitter smile, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes. The current chief knows. His ancestors passed down the secret for generations. They've always known the truth about the curse, about me, about the children. But to keep the village alive, to make the land fertile, they continued the ritual. They cursed me and forced me to kill the children so they could fuse them into the tree. It's their legacy to maintain the curse so the village can survive."

Theodore clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "So, the food I ate…" he asked hesitantly, his voice filled with disgust. "Was it… was it made from the blood and bodies of the children?"

Anita looked down and nodded slowly.

Theodore's stomach churned as bile rose in his throat. He covered his mouth, struggling to keep from vomiting. His breath came in sharp, heavy gasps as anger began to boil within him.

"And the water?" he asked suddenly, recalling Mr. Black's earlier warning. "What about the water we drank in the village? Was it…"

Anita's eyes widened briefly, then softened.

"The water wasn't made of children, no," she said quickly, shaking her head. "But it's not innocent either. Long ago, it was pure, but the chief and his people added cursed magic to it. That water wasn't meant to harm you—it was meant to break you. It causes illusions, fear, and hopelessness, making anyone who tries to solve the village's problems give up. That's why so many have come to Daunt only to leave empty-handed."

Theodore could barely hear her. The thought of consuming anything tainted by this dark curse made his skin crawl. His disgust morphed into rage, his breaths growing shallow as fury overwhelmed him.

Anita placed a gentle hand on his trembling shoulder. Her touch was cold but carried no malice. "It's futile to focus on that now, young prince. You cannot undo what's been done. But you can still set me and the children free. Please… burn the tree."

Theodore hesitated, frustration bubbling inside him. "I tried! I can't even scratch the damn thing. How can I burn something I can't destroy?"

Anita knelt before him, her expression filled with quiet determination. Suddenly, hundreds of faint, glowing figures appeared around them. Theodore turned to see children,hundreds of them,surrounding him with radiant smiles. Their bodies shimmered like golden light, but their faces were unmistakably innocent and hopeful.

"They trust you," Anita said softly, gesturing toward the children. "We all do."

Theodore swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of their hope.

"Before I go," he asked, his voice shaking, "how did you know I was a prince?"

Anita smiled faintly, a flicker of warmth breaking through her sorrow. "Your scent," she said. "The Dominick bloodline has a unique aura. But it wasn't just that. Your determination, your heart, your refusal to give up,it reminded me of the boy I once knew. That's what awakened me to you."

Theodore's chest tightened. So she had been watching him all along.

The illusion around them began to tremble as the world cracked and distorted. The children giggled and waved as Anita smiled one last time. With a gentle push, she sent Theodore falling backward into the darkness.

"Good luck," she whispered, her voice fading as the children prayed silently.

Theodore was violently ejected from the tree, his body sticky with green, viscous liquid. He landed on the wooden floor with a heavy thud, gasping for air.

When he sat up, his eyes locked on the battle before him. Belial was still engaged with the monstrous ghost that Anita had become. Her cries were louder than ever, reverberating with agony and desperation.

But Theodore could sense something new. Those cries weren't cries of hatred,they were cries for help.

"She's still trapped," Theodore whispered. "Her soul is crying for freedom."

Ignoring the pain in his leg, Theodore pushed himself to his feet and faced the massive, grotesque tree that loomed before him. He summoned every ounce of mana left in his body, casting Flame Blast, sending a condensed sphere of fire toward the tree.

The flames struck the trunk but fizzled out, leaving the cursed bark untouched.

"Damn it!" Theodore screamed, his voice breaking with frustration. "Why won't you burn?!"

He cast Flame Blast again and again, but nothing worked. His mana reserves were nearly gone, and his body trembled from exhaustion. Dropping to his knees, he pounded the ground with his fists.

"I hate this," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I hate feeling powerless. Useless!"

Suddenly, a sharp, searing pain pierced his skull. Theodore cried out, clutching his head as a flood of ancient knowledge poured into his mind. It felt like fire itself was carving into his brain.

Moments later, the pain subsided, and Theodore lay on the ground, breathing heavily. A weak smile crossed his face. "Finally… something interesting."

He stood, his body trembling as he invoked his newfound knowledge. "Ancient Flame Conjuration!"

The ground beneath him trembled violently as fissures split open, and a torrent of fiery energy erupted from below. From the flames emerged twenty ancient flame entities, their forms massive and terrifying. Though Theodore's mana was nearly depleted, he could feel their presence as if they were extensions of himself.

The entities knelt before him, awaiting his command.

"Burn it all," Theodore ordered, his voice filled with quiet fury. "Leave nothing behind."

The flames roared to life, engulfing the tree in an inferno. The cursed bark cracked and splintered as the fire consumed it, and the screams of the ghost echoed through the forest.

Belial, sensing the change, rushed to Theodore's side and scooped him into his arms. "You're exhausted, my lord," he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

The wooden house collapsed into ashes as the fire spread, leaving the cursed tree at the center. The ghost,Anita's monstrous body,clung desperately to the burning tree, her cries turning into mournful wails. She tried to extinguish the flames, but they were relentless.

Finally, the cursed tree gave way, crumbling into ash. Anita's monstrous form began to crack, holes forming across her body. Black blood poured from the wounds as her form shrank, her malice burning away.

As the flames subsided, her true body emerged.

Anita stood there, her black hair cascading over her shoulders, her pale skin unmarred, her dark eyes filled with sorrow. She was heartbreakingly beautiful, her former humanity fully restored.

Theodore, cradled in Belial's arms, looked at her in awe. "Anita…" he whispered.

Her lips curled into a faint smile as she looked at him one last time.