Seven Sins System Chapter 591. Glowing Stick

Seven Sins System Chapter 591. Glowing Stick

She made a noise. Could’ve been disgust. Could’ve been amusement. Could’ve been a hiccup. She was impossible to read sometimes.

The only reason I could even see my own boots was because she was behind me—her divine aura, without even trying, cast a soft, dim glow in all directions. She didn’t need a lantern. Her holiness just lit shit up. Like a walking glowstick of judgment.

“Do you always shine like this or is it because we’re in a cursed basement?” I asked over my shoulder.

“I’m not shining,” she said flatly.

“You’re glowing.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re like a flashlight powered by guilt and chastity.”

She didn’t answer. Which meant I was absolutely right.

We finally reached the bottom with a soft crunch—stone giving way to older, uneven stone, the air shifting into something… older. Denser. Colder.

A narrow passage stretched before us, built of massive black stones worn smooth with age. The architecture was completely different from the pristine white marble upstairs. This was ancient. Built during a time when faith and bloodshed were synonymous.

“This place is really old,” I muttered, letting my fingers brush along the rough walls. “Not as old as us, though.”

I glanced at Puriel with a shit-eating grin.

She didn’t laugh.

Just blinked. Neutral expression. Like I hadn’t said anything at all.

‘Yeah, mortal jokes don’t work on her,’ I thought, sighing dramatically. “Tough crowd.”

She looked around, her brow furrowing. “This predates the current temple structure by centuries… possibly even older. Maybe from the war between the light and darkness.”

“Oof. That long?” I squinted at a broken mural half-covered in moss. “I figured this place smelled like angel angst.”

She crouched beside a cracked statue on the side, brushing her fingers gently over an inscription in an ancient script. I leaned in over her shoulder to read it too, mostly because I wanted to annoy her and also because it made me look smarter.

“‘Blessed be the bearers of light. They shall cleanse the world with fire,’” she translated softly.

“Subtle,” I said. “Definitely not foreshadowing a genocidal cult or anything.”

She stood back up, eyeing the tunnel ahead. “There’s something powerful down here. You can feel it too, right?”

“Yeah.” I popped my neck. “It’s like… a divine migraine. But with more sass.”

We walked forward, slow now, both our senses flaring. Her aura pulsed subtly as she opened herself to the holy frequencies in the space. I let my tentacles twitch inside my back, ready to spring the moment something made the wrong move.

After maybe another minute, we entered a wider chamber.

Pillars lined the walls, most cracked or leaning. The floor was etched with faded runes, glowing faintly with white and red magic—angelic and demonic, woven together in a perfect duality. At the center of the room?

A pedestal.

Of course. Always a pedestal.

Floating above it, suspended mid-air in a slow rotation, was a crystal unlike the others we’d seen. Not white. Not red. But pale gold.

“Oh,” I said, low and amused. “That’s new.”

Puriel’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not supposed to exist.”

“You mean you didn’t know it existed,” I corrected, stepping closer.

She didn’t argue. Probably because she didn’t know. Which made this even more fun.

I glanced back at her. “So. Want me to do the honors?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t touch anything for once.”

“Cool. So I’m touching it.”

“Azrael—”

“Lust,” I whispered with a grin.

My tentacles snapped out and shifted into smooth humanoid hands again, carefully cradling the air around the crystal, feeling for traps, enchantments, curses, divine bombs—the usual.

“I swear, if this place collapses—”

“Relax,” I muttered, focusing. “I’m not an idiot. Just reckless.”

She didn’t look reassured. But I was already in the zone.

“Alright, little artifact,” I whispered to the crystal. “What secrets are you hiding?”

As I reached closer, a jolt of energy surged out—light and darkness in one pulse. Not hostile. Not yet. But it hit both of us like a shiver through my core.

Puriel gasped softly. “It’s… balanced. Completely.”

I smirked, still not touching it yet. “Guess the cult’s bigger plan was about merging power, not just hoarding one side.”

“But why?” she asked. “Mortals can’t contain that kind of duality.”

“Which is exactly why they’ll try,” I said. “Mortals love doing impossible shit. Especially if it means they get to feel important before exploding dramatically.”

“Can we take it?” she asked quietly.

I was already grinning. “Oh, we’re not just taking it. We’re stealing it. Let’s make it ours.”

And as I carefully reached in, I knew this was more than just a clue.

This was the beginning of something big.

And the gods—and devils—would both want to know about it.

I reached forward, a cocky grin stretched across my face, all six Lust-mode tentacle-hands out and ready to cradle that weird pale-gold crystal like a divine baby. This thing radiated power so intense it made the air taste metallic, but hey—I’d held worse. Literally held a screaming blood-soul grenade once. This thing? Child’s play.

Or so I thought.

The moment I got within five inches of it, a sudden force shot out from the crystal like an angry god just woke up and hated my haircut. A golden ripple slammed into me—no, through me—so fast my system didn’t even have time to yell at me first.

[WARNING: Unknown Divine Energy Detected! Initiating Emergency Defense Protocol!]

Too late.

“Sloth!” I barked on instinct, and my tentacles retracted and surged outward again, forming a thick, jagged cocoon of dark, obsidian armor just in time to absorb the impact. The shockwave still sent me skidding back across the chamber floor like a demonic hockey puck, groaning the entire way.

I slammed into one of the cracked columns with a thud, Sloth-coating flaking off in steaming pieces. I stood there for a second, back stinging, pride absolutely wrecked.

“Okay…” I coughed. “That was not a hug.”