Seven Sins System Chapter 618. Lust Domain II

Seven Sins System Chapter 618. Lust Domain II

I nodded. “Yeah. The scent your father used to lace the entire Lust Palace with. You remember it, right?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then gave a slow nod. “I remember it. Of course I do.”

“You know what it was?” I asked.

He shook his head almost immediately. “He never told me.”

“Never?”

“As in ever,” he said flatly. “I asked once. Just once. He said I wasn’t ready.”

I stared. “You’ve ruled this domain for how long now?”

“Too long.”

“And you never tried to figure it out?”

He winced a little. “I mean, I tried. I was younger. Dumber. High on power and buried in orgies. Not exactly the best mindset for a scholarly deep dive, you know?”

I exhaled slowly.

“Did you at least try to investigate it?” I pressed. “Like—ingredients? Essence components? A hint? Anything? You’re surrounded by alchemists and pleasure priests. Someone must’ve known what he was working with.”

“Maybe,” he muttered. “But none of them ever said. Or maybe they didn’t dare say.”

I stood, pacing now. “You’ve had this entire palace under your rule and you never once considered breaking down the one thing that made it legendary?”

“It wasn’t my priority,” he said defensively. “I made my own changes. I built my own legacy. I didn’t want to chase shadows of a scent like some nostalgic idiot.”

“Well,” I muttered, “maybe nostalgia’s exactly what we need right now.”

He didn’t answer.

I turned back. “Asmo?”

He blinked, like I’d pulled him out of a deep tunnel.

“…Wait,” he said, voice softer now. “He did say something once.”

I stopped. “Yeah?”

He nodded slowly, like the memory was trying to drag itself out of the swamp.

“I was barely a century old,” he said. “Still stupid. Trying to impress him. I asked about the scent—again—and he said…”

He paused. Frowned. Looked at the floor like it had the answer.

“Something about… origin.”

He trailed off.

“Origin?” I repeated, stepping closer.

He raised a hand, trying to focus. “Yeah. He said it wasn’t from this realm. That he… ‘plucked it from the breath of the void where love and ruin sleep side by side.’”

“…What?” I blinked. “That sounds like poetry a drunk succubus would write on a bar napkin.”

“Right?” he huffed. “I thought he was high. Or just being theatrical again. But now…”

Now his eyes were wide.

I stepped in. Closer. “Now what?”

He went still.

“I don’t remember,” he said. Quiet. Too quiet.

I stared. “Oh come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not!” he snapped, frustrated. “It was centuries ago. And I think he used a memory ward on me. Or maybe he was using an artifact. I remember the words. That phrase. But nothing else. Like it’s just… missing.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Of course he did. Secrets laced in riddles and locked behind magic.”

“Welcome to my inheritance,” Asmo muttered bitterly.

I looked at him again. Really looked.

There was something tight in his jaw. Regret? Shame? Maybe both.

I sighed. Sat down again. The cushions hissed like they were disappointed I wasn’t doing anything inappropriate.

“I need a lead, Asmo.”

“I know.”

“This ripple—this thing—whatever caused it, it used that scent. Or at least something eerily close. And if your father was the last one who knew its origin, then that means someone else is playing with old tools.”

“Or reviving them,” Asmo said.

I met his eyes. “Exactly.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

Only the sound of distant moaning from another wing of the palace broke the stillness.

“I need to go through his vaults,” I said. “His old chambers. Anything that survived the transition.”

“You really think he left something behind?”

“I think he was obsessed with secrets. And people like that? They never burn everything.”

Asmo’s lips pressed together. “Alright. I’ll take you.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “You’re not the only one who wants answers.”

And for a second—just a flicker—he looked almost like the prince he used to be. Before the throne.

Just a demon kid who never got to know what his father was really hiding.

“Alright,” I said.

I stood up again.

I couldn’t tell Asmo about the cave. Not the full truth. If he knew what really happened, he’d either lose his mind or try to kiss me out of congratulations. Neither of which I had time for.

So for now? I’d keep it focused.

The scent. The ripple. The source.

And whatever the hell was hiding in the ruins of Lust’s past.

“Lead the way,” I said.

Asmo gave one last glance to the sealed doors behind us. Then another toward the hallway.

His voice was low.

“Let’s go dig up some ghosts,” Asmo said with way too much excitement.

I followed him out of the playroom, not entirely sure if I should be mentally preparing for ancient demonic revelations or just… pornographic archives. Knowing his dad? Probably both.

The halls beyond the Lust Palace’s public wings were quieter. Dustier. The velvet carpets here had frayed edges. The golden sconces on the walls still pulsed with mana, but dimmer now, like the walls themselves were trying to forget what they’d seen.

“This way,” Asmo said, practically skipping down the corridor.

“I swear to hell, if I see another statue with its ass facing the entrance, I’m leaving,” I muttered, flexing my fingers.

Did I want to touch anything in the former Lust King’s vault?

Absolutely not.

Did I trust Asmodeus to screen it?

Also no.

“Relax, El,” Asmo called from ahead. “It’s not like my dad kept cursed underwear in his vaults. I mean, probably.”

“Probably?” I echoed, deadpan. “That’s not helping.”

We reached the chamber. Two huge obsidian doors with a carving of a naked couple mid... something. Their expressions were weirdly intense—like they were experiencing both enlightenment and a leg cramp.

Asmo clapped his hands. The doors rumbled open with a slow creak that absolutely sounded like a sultry moan. Because of course they did.