Seven Sins System Chapter 705. Holy and Unholy

Seven Sins System Chapter 705. Holy and Unholy

One of my tentacles twitched in real time—its tip still buried deep beneath mana-rotted soil, touching something that wasn’t supposed to be there. A pulse. Not electrical. Not infernal. Not divine. Just old. Like a heartbeat carved into stone by time itself.

Puriel sat up slightly, her blonde hair falling over her bare shoulder, those calm, unnervingly blue eyes locked on me.

I raised one hand and gestured vaguely. “It didn’t look like a lab at first. But the more the tentacle crawled… the more it made sense. It's not a building. It's a nest.”

She tilted her head. “A nest?”

“Yeah.” I exhaled. “Looks like a damn temple. Built inside the hill, not beneath it. Entrance hidden in the roots of a collapsed tree. Covered in illusion magic so thick my tentacle almost melted going through it. But the inside?”

I closed my eyes again, tapping into the sensory tether.

“It’s a maze. Ant tunnels. Layers and layers. But not random—shaped. Designed. Like a… ritual maze. Maybe even a test.”

She absorbed that silently. Her hand slowly found mine beneath the blanket. Cool fingers over the back of my hand. No heat, no seduction. Just grounding pressure. Like she was holding a blade, not a boy.

“It doesn’t make sense,” I muttered. “You saw that monster. That thing shouldn’t exist. It shouldn’t even function—the mana patterns were jagged, clashing. Holy and unholy. Mortality spliced into divine geometry. But it moved.”

Puriel nodded, thoughtful. “So the place that created it… must be just as contradictory.”

“Exactly.”

A moment passed between us. Quiet. Heavy.

Then she asked, voice soft, “What do we do now?”

I sat up fully, sighing as my bones cracked.

The last of the bath’s warmth had left my skin.

And my brain? It was sprinting again.

“First, we stop thinking like students,” I said, standing and stretching.

She looked unsure. “You mean infiltrate it? Alone?”

“You scared?”

She gave me a look. One that said I’m a goddess, not your scared girlfriend.

But the flush on her cheeks betrayed her just a little.

“I’m not scared,” she said finally. “I’m concerned.”

“Same difference,” I muttered.

Behind me, I heard the rustle of fabric. Then the subtle thrum of holy power.

Puriel was shifting. Letting her divine form slip through her mortal glamour.

I turned to look.

And yeah, I had to stop for a second.

Feathers. Wings spread behind her in quiet brilliance. Not pure white. Not the sickly gold of the High Thrones. Her wings were soft cream and dusky peach, like parchment aged by sunlight. Her skin glowed faintly, veins pulsing with divine grace. And her eyes?

Still blue.

Still shy.

Still her.

“You’re beautiful,” I said before I could stop myself.

She blushed. “You’ve seen me like this before.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m immune.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

Then she looked at me expectantly. “Your turn.”

Right.

I inhaled. Rolled my shoulders.

The room darkened. Shadows curled around my limbs, peeling away my mortal disguise like cheap paint under fire. Horns spiraled up from my head. My skin shifted to ashen bronze, flickering with runes etched into muscle. Tentacles and two tails unfolded behind me, dripping mana like molten tar. My wings?

Bat-like. Slitted. Veined with crimson.

And my eyes—black sclera, ember irises, glowing faintly like a warning sign.

I wasn’t pretty like her.

I was terrifying.

But she didn’t flinch.

“Still you,” she said softly.

I chuckled. “That’s what scares most people.”

“Then they’re not seeing clearly.”

I stared at her. She held my gaze.

And for a second—just a second—I forgot about monsters and rituals and dying in a hill made of teeth. I just saw her. In divine form. Looking at me like I wasn’t broken. Like I wasn’t wrong.

I wanted to kiss her or fck her.

But I didn’t.

Not yet.

Instead, I raised a clawed hand and opened my portal skills.

The air split with a soft snap of vacuum being replaced by something older.

[You have opened a portal.]

The system’s voice echoed in my head, flat and factual.

I held out a hand. “Shall we?”

She took it. “We shall.”

We stepped through together.

The world shifted.

Temperature dropped.

Our feet landed on damp stone. The scent hit first—earthy, dense, almost wet. Like moss, blood, and centuries-old secrets. The light was faint, blue-green from bioluminescent roots that crawled across the tunnel ceiling like veins.

I let go of her hand. Not because I wanted to—but because I needed mine free.

Puriel summoned a small orb of light. It hovered beside us, humming softly.

I whispered, “Welcome to hell’s idea of a secret lab.”

She scanned the tunnel. “It really does look like a temple.”

“Yeah,” I said, kneeling to touch the floor. “Carved stone. Not conjured. The walls are etched with runes—old ones. Pagan maybe. Or older than Pagan. Definitely pre-divine.”

“How can you tell?”

“They’re… not afraid,” I said slowly. “Most sacred or infernal structures are terrified of power being unstable. They lock everything down. But this place? It embraces chaos. Look at the branching paths.”

She followed my gaze.

The tunnel didn’t fork cleanly.

It spiraled.

Dozens of sub-tunnels branched like ant hills. Cracks led to cracks. Some were too small for a body. Others loomed wide enough for an elephant.

I could feel the layout shifting.

Like the tunnels moved when you weren’t looking.

“It’s alive,” Puriel whispered.

“More than that,” I said grimly. “It’s watching.”

We stood in silence. Listening.

Nothing.

But the silence wasn’t empty. It pressed on the ears. Not like a void.

Like breath.

Like waiting.

“Do we go in?” she asked.

“I have to,” I said.

She touched my arm. “We.”

I looked at her. She was glowing again. Just slightly. Her blue eyes shining like twin moons.

“…You’re not scared?”

“I am,” she admitted. “But I trust you.”

I stared at her for a long second.

Then I nodded.

“Alright then.”