The Forsaken Heir's Ascension
Chapter 100: System Curse: The Villain Remembers Pain

Chapter 100: System Curse: The Villain Remembers Pain

As he walked, the scene around him suddenly shifted.

It was as if he had been dreaming before, and what now unfolded before his eyes was reality.

He found himself in a dark, filthy alley.

A thin, malnourished boy with a dirty, tattered shirt was searching through a dumpster.

The boy’s eyes lit up when he found a whole drumstick.

It was like unearthing a treasure for him.

He looked around cautiously—and then spotted Riven standing nearby.

The boy stumbled backward, clutching the drumstick in his hand, hiding it behind his back.

He stepped back slowly, distrust shining in his wary eyes.

Riven gave him a sad smile, his eyes glistening.

"Don’t... I won’t snatch it."

But the boy didn’t believe him.

He turned around and ran, hugging the drumstick tighter to his chest, as if protecting his very life.

Riven exhaled and looked down at the daggers in his hands.

"I know how much that drumstick means to you," he whispered.

"Because that’s my own memory."

He looked around—the buildings, the bustling city—

And then realization dawned.

"So this is the hallucination they were talking about..."

He clenched his teeth.

"I don’t like it.

I don’t like something that reminds me of painful memories."

Suddenly, the hallucination shattered.

He blinked and found himself completely bound by vines.

Through a narrow opening, he could see he was back in the same eerie forest.

With a furious shout, space slashes burst from his body, tearing the vines to shreds.

Thud!

He fell onto the grassy ground.

He pushed himself up and dusted off his clothes—just as an echoing voice rang out:

"GAME OVER – WINNER: VEYLOR TEAM."

Riven clenched the daggers in his hands and muttered through gritted teeth:

"Was I trapped for that long?"

As Riven stepped out, the Wild Zone shimmered and vanished behind him.

His eyes gleamed with anger, a deep frown carved across his face.

He strode toward his team, who were still celebrating victory of their first match.

Lyra stepped forward, her eyes filled with concern. She gently touched his hand and asked, "Are you okay?"

Riven gave a stiff nod. "Who crossed?"

Aslan bounded up theatrically and declared,

"Miss Lyra, our brilliant dasher, was the one who led us to victory! She was faster than the wind—gliding through the forest like it was her backyard. And bam! We won in just twenty minutes. Can you believe it? Twenty! Minutes!"

Lyra blushed but kept her composure.

"It was all thanks to the tower. We honed our instincts there. The forest wasn’t a problem—I could’ve crossed it with my eyes closed."

Riven glanced at her and forced a smile, but the storm in his chest hadn’t calmed.

"Let’s clear the arena!" Aslan cheered, still laughing.

The team moved off the battlefield, descending from the Arena.

Just as Riven’s mood began to lift ever so slightly, a familiar blue screen blinked to life in front of him:

[CONGRATULATIONS ON WINNING ANOTHER MATCH.]

[MAIN MISSION PROGRESS: 1.7%]

[HOST’S MENTAL STRENGTH HAS INCREASED AFTER FACING PAST PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA.]

[HOST WILL SOON UNLOCK: MIND SPACE]

Riven’s smile vanished.

Tch... as usual, nothing useful, he thought bitterly.

This damned system treats me like its slave. Fucking trash. Now I truly get what those "trash-system" protagonists always whine about.

As the match ended, Alex stood up and turned to Darian.

"I’m heading out. We’re hungry."

Darian, wearing his usual easy-going smile, replied,

"Don’t forget about tomorrow’s match."

Alex gave a nod before walking off, with Hati trailing silently behind him.

Once they disappeared into the crowd, Darian’s smile faded.

He stood up and quietly made his way toward his dorm room.

Far from the roar of the arena, in a quiet room adorned with soft, snow-like drapes and a perfectly made bed covered in a sky-blue sheet, Selene lay on her stomach. Her legs swayed in the air as she read a letter, her brows furrowed with worry.

She rolled onto her back, the letter clutched in her hand, and whispered,

"Mama’s coming to tomorrow’s match..."

Her gaze lingered on the ceiling.

"It’s against the Ice Phoenix Club. I have to win... I have to show my new ability and prove I’ve made progress. If I don’t..." she paused, eyes growing distant,

"Mama will get angry again."

With a long sigh, she buried her face into the pillow.

Far from the innocent beauty, a seductress in emerald green—her signature colour, matching her eyes—walked steadily toward the teleportation tower.

Her heels clicked sharply against the stone bridge, each step echoing through the cold night, cutting even through the crashing waves below.

Serene’s thoughts were just as turbulent as the sea.

What should I do? I can’t hide the truth from my sister... she’ll blame me.

She’s trapped in that prison for my sake—and for her family.

And Father... He didn’t keep his promise. Why would he? He was never truly part of the proud Seraph—never worthy of the Flying Snake bloodline.

She stepped into the teleportation portal and vanished in a flash of light.

A moment later, she appeared in another tower. Waiting at the base were dark-clad figures—black guards, their faces covered, only their cold eyes visible.

They bowed in unison.

"Princess."

She gave a curt nod and moved forward, not sparing them a glance.

Through the gate and into familiar grounds, the emerald-green mansion loomed before her, cast in eerie silhouettes under the pale, gloomy moonlight. Shadows clung to its edges.

Serene walked with purpose. The guards didn’t follow her.

At the far side of the mansion, she reached a staircase—narrow and old, leading downward into utter darkness.

She exhaled and stepped downward. With each descending step, the moonlight behind her faded—until only suffocating darkness remained.

But it didn’t hinder her.

Serene moved with purpose through the black, reaching a worn wooden door. A sliver of moonlight filtered through the narrow slit, casting a faint glow into the damp, stone-walled basement.

A raspy voice drifted from within.

"What are you doing here?"

Serene leaned closer to the slit in the door.

"Hello, big sister. How are you?"

"Why are you here, Serene?" Vireya asked, her voice hoarse and empty.

Serene hesitated, fingers trembling at her side. But then she clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white.

"Sister... you should leave this self-made prison. The promise is already broken."

From the shadows, two guards silently stepped forward, blades drawn.

Without turning around, Serene raised her hand.

Emerald green needles shimmered into existence—glowing with a deadly light—then shot backward with lightning precision.

Thk! Thk!

The guards fell like severed puppets, blood pouring from their eyes, dead before they could even make a sound.

Inside the cell, Vireya slowly stood.

A regal aura unfurled around her like a coiled dragon awakening, calm yet immeasurably powerful.

She stepped forward and looked through the slit, her piercing eyes meeting Serene’s—mirror images of her own.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, voice dangerously still.

Serene’s lips trembled.

She tried to speak, but the pressure from Vireya’s presence was overwhelming.

She steadied herself, releasing her own aura to balance the weight in the room, her voice cracking as she forced the words out.

"Big Sister... Little Anna and Brother-in-law..."

The atmosphere thickened, almost suffocating.

"They’re dead."

Silence.

Then—

"WHAT!?" Vireya’s roar shook the walls, her voice echoing like a tidal wave of wrath.

Her aura exploded outward like a serpent made of pure power, coiling and twisting around the entire castle.

Serene shouted back, this time screaming at the top of her lungs:

"LITTLE ANNA AND BROTHER-IN-LAW ARE DEAD! THEY BROKE THE PROMISE—ALEX TOLD ME!"

BOOM!

The ground quaked. Dust fell from the ceiling. The walls groaned under the pressure of Vireya’s unleashed fury.

Her eyes changed—blood-red irises with vertical slits.

An invisible force surged outward.

A mountain-like pressure slammed down on the castle.

All across the estate, guards dropped to their knees.

Some collapsed instantly—bones crushed, organs ruptured—reduced to nothing more than pulp beneath the sheer weight of her aura.

Yet through it all, Serene stood untouched.

With deliberate grace, Vireya reached for the lock, the ancient door creaking open.

For the first time in over twelve years, she stepped out of her self-imposed prison.

Her bare, pale feet touched the cold floor, silver hair flowing like moonlight behind her.

Each step toward the stairs sent another wave of pressure rolling through the air, like the descent of a goddess reborn in wrath.

In a lavish chamber far from the chaos, a man lay sprawled on a luxurious bed—naked, surrounded by equally naked women entangled around him like ornaments.

His eyes snapped open.

Grey hair tousled, eyes dark and gleaming with vicious amusement, he smirked as he rose slowly, peeling himself free from the bodies around him.

"So... she finally knows," he murmured. "Doesn’t matter now."

He turned toward the door and shouted, casually, "Hey—Bitch Number One. Come here. You too, Bitch Number Two."

Two women entered in silence.

The first had pure white hair and lifeless, glazed gray eyes.

The second, younger and eerily similar to the first, knelt beside her.

Both bowed before the man without question.

"Go welcome your daughters," he said, chuckling.

"And don’t kill them... yet."

His laughter echoed through the dark hall like the cackle of a devil.

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