I Became the Cure for the Cursed Prince

“Ha, Hayan….”

His heart plummeted to his stomach. He couldn’t move recklessly, only managing to call out the cat’s name in a trembling voice.

Snapping back to his senses, Kim Woo-jin slowly approached Hayan.

“Don’t run. I’m trying to help you.”

“Hiss!”

Despite his cautious movements, it was useless. Hayan arched its back, fur standing on end, hissing aggressively. The little creature was so agitated that it wouldn’t even allow Woojin to get close.

If this went on, he would lose Hayan for good.

Determined, Kim Woo-jin hurriedly pulled off his worn-out jacket.

One… two… three!

As soon as he counted down in his mind and threw the jacket, Hayan darted toward the road—faster than his hands could reach.

“Gasp—No!”

With a desperate scream, Kim Woo-jin lunged forward.

At that moment—

Screech!

A truck, barreling down the road, struck him with a deafening crash. The impact sent his body flying through the air.

As his arms flailed, slicing through the empty space, realization dawned upon him.

This is… death.

Between the brief moment of soaring through the air and crashing to the ground, his life flashed before his eyes. Everything blurred into a haze of distant memories.

And then, a thought surfaced.

Would anyone even notice if I died?

He wasn’t asking for sorrow. He didn’t expect grief. But—he wanted at least one person to remember him.

Life had been unbearably insignificant. He couldn’t bear for his death to be just as meaningless.

“Meow… meow… meoow….”

Hayan approached, licking his bloodied hand, letting out mournful cries.

Summoning the last of his strength before his eyes fully closed, Kim Woo-jin whispered,

“…Thank you… for crying for me.”

And then, he lost consciousness.

A moment later, he found himself drifting in endless darkness.

If I could have just one more chance, any life would be fine—
As long as it was a life where I could be loved.
Where I could feel the warmth of someone’s touch…

「 ……. …… ……. 」

Somewhere, he thought he heard a sound.

Then, he felt his body being lifted into the air.

That was the last memory Kim Woo-jin had.

However, Kim Woo-jin—no, Lucas—soon realized that even in this new life, fate was not on his side.

Had he been given another chance?

He had been reborn in a different world, yet strangely, he still retained all of Kim Woo-jin’s memories.

“And yet, even in this life, fate never favored me.”

Lucas galloped through the snow-covered plains, the winter wind biting at his skin. Behind him, an elite squad of knights followed closely, bows in hand.

In the distance, a massive figure emerged—a beast with the body of a bear, covered in white feathers, and the head of a bird.

A Bird bear.

A monster that ravaged birch forests—an essential resource—and occasionally descended into villages, leaving destruction and death in its wake.

Lucas and his knights moved swiftly, surrounding the creature from all sides. Sensing their intent, the Bird bear spread its enormous wings, flapping them aggressively in warning.

Lucas raised his arm high and commanded,

“Ready!”

The moment the knights drew their bowstrings, he brought his arm down in a decisive slash.

“Fire!”

Poisoned arrows shot through the air, embedding themselves into the monster’s thick hide.

“Graaaaaah!”

The beast let out a deafening screech, enraged. It turned its enormous body toward the knights, ready to attack.

At that moment, the formation split in two, opening a clear path—one meant for Lucas.

Without hesitation, Lucas spurred his horse forward, charging straight at the Bird bear. The beast reacted swiftly, its massive beak opening wide, fangs glinting as it lunged toward his shoulder.

Just before it could clamp down—

Lucas dug his heels into his horse’s flank.

“Neigh!”

The horse reared up on its hind legs, lifting Lucas into the air. In that fleeting moment of suspension, he ripped off his gloves and reached out with bare hands.

His fingers grasped the Birdbear’s right wing, and with a forceful tear—

Rip.

Dark veins spread across the wound, and thick, black blood splattered onto the snow-covered ground.

“Shrieeeek!”

The beast’s agonized scream shattered the frozen air.

The Birdbear let out an ear-splitting shriek, furiously flapping its remaining wing. The gusts stirred up a blizzard of snow, but Lucas held firm, gripping the monster’s neck with unyielding strength. The wounds torn into its body rapidly darkened, spreading like a cursed rot. Finally, the massive creature collapsed onto the frozen ground.

Exhaling, he murmured a final parting wish.

“In your next life, may you be reborn as a gentle creature, loved and cherished.”

With that, he drew the sword from his waist and raised it high. The blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight before it pierced through the Birdbear’s heart in a single, swift motion.

Pulling back, he climbed onto his waiting horse, distancing himself before issuing his next command.

“Split open its belly.”

The knights obeyed without hesitation. Drawing their daggers, they sliced a clean, vertical line down the creature’s snow-white fur. One of them reached inside, retrieving something gleaming, and tossed it toward him. A blood-red mana stone soared through the air, landing perfectly in his grasp.

The hexagonal gem pulsed with an ominous glow.

“A Gargoyle’s trace, without a doubt.”

Confirming its identity, he turned to his men and ordered, “Mark this site with our banner and tie red ribbons around the birch trees. I must acquire a Gargoyle’s heart for my sister.”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

The knights swiftly moved, staking flags into the icy ground and tying ribbons onto the trees.

Scanning the area, his expression darkened as he took in the surroundings. The sun was already dipping beyond the horizon.

“We should return before the snowstorm worsens.”

He turned his horse around, and the knights followed at a distance.

Riding swiftly, they finally arrived at the castle gates. As he dismounted, he instinctively stepped away from the gathered servants.

Despite the Duke’s return, the castle’s attendants hurriedly disappeared from the hallways the moment they caught sight of him—as if they feared even being near him.

Saying nothing, he strode through the cold, empty corridors, heading toward his chambers.

Even in the solitude of his room, with a fire crackling in the hearth, the air remained frigid.

No attendants awaited him. No one lingered to serve him.

Removing his battle-worn garments, he stepped into the bath to wash away the dark, sticky blood clinging to his skin. He changed into more comfortable clothing and, without resting, moved directly to his study.

He sat at his desk, staring at the endless stacks of documents.

“…Ha.”

It had been twenty years since he was reborn in this world.

He had died trying to save Hayan.

And when he opened his eyes again, he found himself in the very novel he had read before his death—The Tyrant Prince Locked His Lady in a Secret Chamber.

He remembered the story well.

The novel began with the Empire’s second prince seeking military glory by launching a campaign to annihilate the Grand Duchy of the North, the Empire’s longtime rival.

The prince slaughtered the Grand Duke, only to find the duke’s sister weeping over his lifeless body. Overcome by obsession, he took the Grand Duchess captive, imprisoning her in a secret chamber within the imperial palace. What followed was a dark, twisted tale of suffering, captivity, and an all-consuming love built on possession.

He had not been reincarnated as the prince.

Nor was he the Grand Duchess, the novel’s tragic heroine.

No, he had been reborn as the doomed Grand Duke of the North—a mere obstacle in the protagonist’s path.

The character fated to die at the prince’s hands.

To make matters worse, when he turned ten years old, the ancient curse that had plagued his bloodline for generations finally manifested.

The curse was a deathly aura.

Anyone who merely came near him found it difficult to breathe.

Anyone who touched his bare skin suffered excruciating pain, their flesh turning black.

Anyone who lingered too long… died.

“…It would have been easier if I couldn’t feel anything at all.”

Despite the North’s harsh winters, his childhood had been warm—at least before the curse awakened.

Back then, even after losing his parents at a young age, he still had his sister. She had comforted him when he cried, gently patting his small head, offering him warmth.

But after the curse took hold, even she could no longer touch him.

And when she was gravely wounded in battle—when monster shards lodged into her body, leaving her permanently crippled—he had been helpless.

He had despaired.

But he refused to give up.

Lifting his gaze to the mirror hanging on the wall, he studied his reflection.

A towering frame, well over six feet, built with defined muscle from years of rigorous training.

Midnight black hair, deep as ink.

Eyes just as dark, glinting like sharpened obsidian.

And yet, his skin was stark white, contrasting sharply against his shadowy features.

“…I suppose I should be grateful.”

At the very least, his cursed appearance had kept people from realizing he was a recessive omega.

The curse made human contact nearly impossible, ensuring that no one could get close enough to discover the truth.

Cursed.
A recessive omega.
A wounded family.

This life was even crueler than the last.

But he had no intention of surrendering to fate.

His only remaining family depended on him.

So he trained relentlessly. He never once backed down, no matter how many times death loomed over him.

Under his rule, the Lion Grand Duchy had grown stronger than ever before.

His army was the most formidable in the North.

The once-lawless eastern mountains were now rid of bandits.

The diamond mines—long abandoned—were operational again, restoring wealth to the Grand Duchy.

All that remained was to defy fate itself.

“I just need to change my destiny.”

And that meant finishing the work in front of him.

Exhaling, he shifted his focus back to the stacks of paperwork.

“I have to clear out the monster hordes in the East tomorrow. Then, there’s the new batch of knight recruits…”

The fire crackled softly in the background as he continued his work, flipping through documents for hours.

Alone.

Just as he had always been.

Just as he had been in his past life.