Cursed System-Chapter 99: Cursed Children 3
RAGNA POV...
When I confirmed that Oge’s interface responded perfectly and her status remained stable, a weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying finally eased from my chest, and for the first time since everything spiraled out of control, I allowed myself to feel something close to relief—because if she was fine, then there was a high chance Mother and Adah were also still alive, still breathing somewhere under the same fading sky, even though I had no way of knowing what kind of danger surrounded them at this very moment.
The guilt over Father’s death had not faded; it lingered like a quiet bruise beneath my ribs, surfacing whenever my thoughts slowed down, yet that guilt was precisely what pushed me to act decisively—giving half of my attribute points to Belle had not been an impulsive move but a necessary investment, because if I could not stand beside them physically, then the least I could do was make sure she had the strength to protect herself and the others, and with fifty-five points at her disposal, I was certain she would grow rapidly as long as she followed what I had taught her.
"Alright! Dinner is about to start, let’s head there before it finishes."
Reiner’s voice cut through my thoughts, light and eager, as though we were attending a festival rather than being held captive.
A mild wind swept across the horizon, brushing against my face as the sun slowly dipped toward the edge of the world, its fading light spilling across the sky in layers of gold and amber that stretched like burning silk; under different circumstances, it might have been beautiful, but here it felt misplaced—like warmth forced into a scene that did not deserve it.
As we approached the center of the encampment, I finally took in the full layout. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮
Massive carriages formed a rough circle, enclosing the space like the ribs of a beast, and at the center burned a large campfire whose flames crackled steadily, illuminating the gathered figures with restless shadows.
Cursed children—if that was what we were—sat scattered around the fire, some perched stiffly on cloth mats laid over the ground, others lying down with exhausted expressions, and while a few faces were clouded with sadness or shock, there was something else beneath those fragile surfaces: wariness, calculation, and in some cases, a predatory sharpness that did not match their age.
They devoured their food with intensity, chewing and swallowing in heavy gulps as though missing a single bite would cost them their lives.
As we walked past, I felt it clearly—the different auras pressing against my senses.
Each one felt unstable, dangerous in its own way, like criminals temporarily restrained rather than innocent children waiting for rescue.
Beside me, Reiner continued smiling in that same unnerving manner, his eyes narrowing into crescents as he waved politely at anyone who glanced his way; however, most of his attempts at friendliness were met with cold stares or outright hostility, and yet he did not seem discouraged in the slightest.
I watched him carefully.
Was he testing them the way he tested me? Probing, observing, gathering information under the guise of harmless cheerfulness?
The more I observed, the clearer it became that the children here were not united. They kept their distance from one another, forming loose, cautious clusters at best. It was obvious we had all come from different places, different circumstances, bound together only by the same accusation—demon.
I subtly moved ahead of the siblings, positioning myself at the front so I wouldn’t be perceived as part of their strange duo; I had no intention of forming alliances, no desire to stand out, and yet no matter how I adjusted my pace, they followed closely behind me, as though drawn by something unseen.
Reiner, for all his sociability, seemed to remember one practical priority.
Food.
After a short walk, we reached a long wooden table where several loaves of bread and pieces of grilled fish were arranged on both sides, their scent drifting faintly through the air. According to the siblings, this was where meals were distributed.
A small queue had already formed before us. The children in line barely acknowledged our presence, casting only brief glances before returning their focus to the food, their hunger too pressing to allow distractions.
I scanned the surroundings again.
Every child here was different.
While I carried three pairs of eyes, and Reiner and Berthold bore curved horns that marked them clearly as non-human, others possessed tails ending in sharp points, clawed hands instead of fingers, furred or scaled faces, elongated ears, even features resembling animals.
For the first time, I began to understand what the villagers meant when they called us hideous.
To them, we were aberrations.
My gaze shifted to the one distributing the food.
The moment I saw him clearly, my muscles tightened.
He wore armor similar to the black steel knight who had attacked me before, and though most of his appearance was concealed beneath his helmet, his cold golden eyes were visible through the narrow slit, steady and detached; a black leather whip rested at his side, coiled loosely yet suggestive enough of violence.
If all the knights here possessed strength comparable to the one I had faced, then escape under our current conditions was unrealistic.
Even with my current attributes, I would not be considered formidable in their eyes unless I invested significantly more points—and even then, there was no guarantee my techniques would work. ’Cursed Menace’ and ’Cursed Charm’ might influence weaker minds, but against trained knights like these, they could very well prove useless.
Compared to me, many of the other children seemed even less capable; none had attempted revolt, and if any of them possessed systems, they clearly had not developed enough to challenge their captors.
My earlier thoughts of escape began to feel naive.
Which led to a more pressing question—why capture us at all?
If their intention was extermination, they could have slaughtered us in our villages or executed us here without ceremony. Instead, they fed us, organized us, transported us together like livestock being preserved for something specific.
The most plausible answer unsettled me.
Sacrifice.
A collection of mixed reincarnators, gathered methodically and kept alive—such a scenario rarely ended well.
I forced myself to stop overanalyzing before my thoughts spiraled too far ahead of available information.
The line moved quickly, and soon it was our turn.
The steel knight handed each of us a few pieces of bread and grilled fish without a word, his movements efficient and emotionless, before gesturing curtly for us to move along; as I stepped away, I felt a faint but unmistakable chill emanating from within his helmet, as though those golden eyes had lingered on me just a moment longer than necessary.
After receiving the food, Elijah and Matthew bowed formally in greeting, their politeness almost theatrical.
"What are you doing staring like that? Come up next!"
The knight’s voice rang out sharply, jolting several children from their daze.
I heard faint grumbles under their breath, but none dared speak openly; fear sealed their mouths even as resentment flickered in their eyes.
Still, their bodies moved quickly, efficiently collecting what they were given, because regardless of pride or anger, they understood the hierarchy here.
We were prey.
And the predators were watching.
