Seven Sins System Chapter 612. Fetish Unlocked
Seven Sins System Chapter 612. Fetish Unlocked
I rubbed the back of my neck, pacing a bit across the floor. The thread of fate still faintly shimmered on my wrist, and I could feel her watching me as the morning light crept through the dusty blinds like a lazy, judging spotlight.
“We should report this,” I said finally, turning to face her. “Or at least investigate it. Separately. You go to your side, I go to mine. Check your realm, ask your mom. I’ll do the same in the Shadow Realm.”
She tilted her head. “You mean your father?”
“Yeah. I’m sure the Old Man’s still lurking in his shadow throne sipping corrupted tea or something.” I rolled my eyes in annoyance. “Or f*cking one of his succubi in his office.”
She nodded, then paused. “But what about the academy?”
I blinked. “The what?”
“The class schedule,” she said with a very serious tone, as if she hadn’t just ridden a demon lord to near cosmic collapse. “It will start in about three hours.”
I stared at her.
“You’re seriously thinking about mortal classes right now? After we nearly broke the veil between realms with sex magic?!”
“Responsibility,” she replied, completely deadpan. “Is responsibility.”
I held up a hand, biting back a laugh. “That’s not responsibility. That’s insanity. We literally came back to reality naked on a divine altar, and you’re worried about being late to combat theory 302?”
She folded her arms. “Some of us still have rank evaluations next week.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Then allow me to recommend something important before you return to your realm.”
She raised a brow.
“Take a bath.”
Her brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”
I stepped closer, dangerously so. The grin on my lips was probably illegal in several pantheons.
“Unless,” I whispered, leaning just enough that she could feel the heat of my breath against her cheek, “you want your mother to catch you reeking of me.”
Her cheeks immediately flushed a divine pink. She stepped back—instinctively—but I closed the gap again, trailing a finger gently down her arm.
“You do smell like me,” I said, voice dropping. “And I gotta say, it kinda makes me horny again.”
Her entire posture stiffened.
I smirked.
My fingers slid lower…
-Flash!
She vanished in a blink of light and reappeared across the room, back against the wall like I’d just threatened to summon another apocalypse.
I exhaled through a grin, dragging a hand through my hair. “Yup,” I muttered to myself. “Still the Goddess of Chastity. Not gonna be that easy.”
She pointed at me with a shaky finger. “I’m taking a bath now!”
“Good call.”
She gathered mana around her fingers, clearly prepping another teleportation spell. But right before she vanished, I raised a hand.
“I’ll make a double,” I said casually. “One to handle things here. In the infirmary. In mortal business. Just in case.”
She hesitated. “Understandable. Just…” Her voice dipped. “…Just make sure you bathe, too.”
I tilted my head. “Why? Worried I’ll corrupt the halls with my scent?”
Her cheeks turned impossibly red.
“I-I mean… If they catch you smelling like me—” she waved frantically, “—they might assume things!”
I placed a hand over my chest. “Assume I had sex with the untouchable, holiest figure in the heavenly realm? I’d get a trophy.”
She paused mid-cast. “You—”
I held up a finger. “We’re different species, Puriel. Different logic. I corrupt things. People. Objects. Real estate. Goddesses.”
Her lips twitched. “Asmo is still going to laugh.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, nodding. “He’s gonna laugh forever.”
“Just—just take a bath!” she shouted before disappearing in a flash of light and residual embarrassment.
I stood there for a second.
The air still smelled faintly like her.
I stretched, groaned, glanced down at the thread still hanging on my wrist.
“Wonder if she likes me better in my truest form than this,” I mused aloud. “Maybe she’s got a thing for horns and molten skin…”
I smirked.
“…Fetish unlocked. Nice.”
Now to clean up, create my double, and pretend I wasn’t one whisper away from collapsing the mortal plane with round two.
One hell of a morning.
Steam hissed from the faucet as I stepped into the narrow excuse for a bathroom attached to my dorm. I stripped off the priest’s robe—yeah, I still hadn’t returned it—and tossed it onto the sink like the guilt of sacred textile abuse wasn’t mine to carry.
I stepped into the small bathroom, and the heat wrapped around me like a low-grade infernal cloud. The water scalded, but I didn’t care. I liked it that way.
I rolled my shoulders under the cascade, fingers tapping against the walls. Her scent was still faint on me. Her divine aura had clung like mist—sweet, heavy, and far too tempting for someone supposed to be resisting. I let the steam pull it away, wash it down the drain with everything I couldn’t say.
I stayed under the water longer than I needed.
Because what I had to do next? Required focus.
I stepped out, steam rising around me like coiling fog.
After the quick shower, I cracked my knuckles and let one of my Greed tentacles slip from my back.
“Alright,” I muttered. “Double time.”
The tentacle pulsed once, then separated from me.
It writhed midair, morphing rapidly, shadows twisting until a carbon copy of myself stood in front of me—smirking like he already hated my morning.
“Same schedule. Same sarcasm. Don’t flirt with the students.”
Then I used my Portal skills.
[You have opened a portal.]
A pitch-black tear split the air before me, humming with deep, ancient resonance. My home.
I stepped through—and was immediately consumed by cold.
Not physical cold. Soul cold. The kind that reminded me what it meant to be born of the night, of wrath, of things that once chewed holes in reality for fun.
On the other side, the portal chamber of the Shadow Realm.
The moment I entered, I let go.
[You have activated your demonic form ]
My body surged—taller, broader, heavier with power. Horns curled backward from my skull, glowing faint at the ridges. My tentacles slithered out, and my wings spread.
And in a flick of thought, my royal battle garb assembled over my frame—black and deep purple suit etched with layered enchantments, gold-threaded sigils that only manifested at my level of access.
“Right,” I muttered, striding forward. “Let’s see if the Old Man’s still slacking off.”