Seven Sins System Chapter 592. Bad Sacrificial Offering

Seven Sins System Chapter 592. Bad Sacrificial Offering

When I looked up, I caught sight of Puriel across the chamber, her form surrounded by a glowing, feather-edged holy barrier. Her expression was frozen mid-what the fuck as she floated gently to the ground, dust and light swirling around her like she was modeling for a divine shampoo commercial.

We locked eyes.

No jokes. No snark.

Just a silent “Did that thing just push both of us back?”

“Did you just—?” I started.

“I did,” she answered immediately, stepping toward the pedestal, her boots crunching on broken stone. “It pushed me too.”

I stood up, brushing off bits of ash and divine static from my coat. “You? With your virtue-enhanced angelic purity? You got booted like a bad sacrificial offering?”

She gave me a sharp look. “You just got flung across the room like a cursed ragdoll, Azrael.”

“Yeah, and I cushioned it with style.” I winced as I popped my shoulder back into place. “Okay… maybe not that much style.”

She didn’t smile.

Neither did I.

Which meant things were serious now.

“Alright,” I muttered, turning back to face the pale-gold crystal, still rotating quietly in the center of the room like it hadn’t just slapped a devil prince and an angelic goddess across opposite ends of the floor.

“So what are we dealing with?” I asked, shaking my arms out and letting my tentacles retract with a sizzle. “That… wasn’t just holy magic. Or demonic. That was something else.”

She nodded slowly. “It felt... blended. Equal parts divine and unholy.”

I raised a brow. “So a cosmic smoothie.”

She frowned. “You joke, but this might be the first artificially stabilized core we’ve ever seen.”

“First one we’ve seen,” I corrected. “For all we know, some other moron cult’s been harvesting these for years and using them to bless their toothbrushes or power mecha-priests or something.”

Her eyes narrowed at the crystal again. “It rejected us both.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “It looked at me, went ‘no thanks, edgelord,’ then looked at you and went ‘ugh, go back to heaven.’”

She gave me a tired glare, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

I stepped cautiously toward the pedestal again, this time keeping my aura completely muted. No Wrath, no Lust, no dramatic flares of darkness, no tentacles. Just me. Human version of walking on eggshells. Dr. Allen.

Still, when I reached within range, the crystal gave off a faint pulse, like a heartbeat of raw power, and I froze.

Puriel edged beside me, her hand resting lightly on her sword hilt. “If it attacks again—”

“I’ll throw you at it,” I said.

She didn’t laugh.

I exhaled. “Okay, okay. How about we think for a second before getting launched again.”

I stared at the crystal. “Let’s break it down.”

“It responded violently to both divine and demonic signatures,” she said. “Which means…”

“It doesn’t like either of us,” I finished.

She nodded. “But that shouldn’t be possible. Holy artifacts only reject unclean essence. Demonic ones only reject the divine. For something to repel both...”

“…it has to be something new,” I said. “Something outside the usual laws. Neutral?”

She blinked. “Or beyond. Something above divine or demonic.”

We both stared at the crystal, now spinning a little faster, as if aware we were talking about it. Jerk.

“Let me try one more thing,” I said, cracking my neck and rolling my shoulders.

“Azrael—”

“Don’t worry. I won’t touch it this time.”

I activated Greed mode. Two clones of me poofed into existence, each giving me a salute before stepping forward toward the pedestal in sync.

“Now let’s see if it reacts to me… but diluted.”

The crystal pulsed again—but no pushback this time. Clones reached closer… and as they neared, their forms shimmered. Then, pop. Gone. Disintegrated into a dark aura and returned to my back without my order.

[Clones Eliminated: Overwhelmed by Unknown Energy Signature]

“Well, that’s new,” I said. “It didn’t reject me with a slap. It just… unmade my clones.”

“Like they were never real to begin with,” Puriel whispered. “This thing’s tuned to something deeper.”

I rubbed my chin, my expression finally losing some of its usual smug.

“So if it’s not reacting violently to just raw power… maybe it needs something else.”

She looked at me. “Like what?”

I turned to her, very slowly. “A mortal.”

She blinked. “You mean—”

“Yup.” I crossed my arms. “This whole place is powered by mortals building divine artifacts behind our backs. Maybe this core’s designed for them. Not us. Not gods. Not devils.”

She frowned. “That’s risky. Mortals can’t handle this kind of energy. It could kill them.”

“Or turn them into god-kings,” I added casually. “Which would explain why someone down here’s trying to make more of these things.”

Puriel stepped back, her eyes still fixed on the crystal. “We need to seal this chamber.”

I raised a brow. “Seal? You serious?”

She nodded. “If word gets out about this... both heaven and hell will start a war just to get it.”

“Good,” I muttered. “Sounds fun.”

She sighed. “Azrael—”

“I know, I know. Chaos is bad, millions die, the world goes boom. I’ll consider not immediately telling everyone.”

Puriel gave me that stern, patented glare again. The kind she reserved for when I said things that made sense but in the worst possible way.

But I kept my gaze locked on the pale-gold crystal, still pulsing in midair like a god’s angry heartbeat.

“But sealing it isn’t a solution and you know that,” I said, the grin dropping from my face. “This thing is a time bomb. And mortals? Oh, they’re gonna poke it. Prod it. Feed it. Hell, they’ll worship it if you give them a week and a shiny robe.”

She exhaled, slowly. “...It’s true.”

“And you said it yourself. If a mortal’s the only thing that can approach it safely... then maybe we let one.”

She turned her head slowly toward me, suspicious. “Who?”

I smirked. “Wait here.”

Without another word, I activated Teleportation.

[Skill Activated: Teleportation]

Reality twisted with that delightful pop in my ears as my body shimmered out of the chamber and reformed back in the sacred hall above.

Right where I’d left him.

The priest.

The first one who’d gotten a taste of my entrance earlier when I wrecked the statues like a divine bowling league. He was still unconscious—lucky bastard.

“Yup,” I said, stretching lazily. “This is what I need.”