Seven Sins System Chapter 741. Reborn Demon IV
Seven Sins System Chapter 741. Reborn Demon IV
His eyes flickered like static, memories moving too fast to grab.
But then…
Like a rusty lock giving in after years of being shut.
Algan's breath slowed, and I saw it. That switch. When instinct gave way to memory. When a soldier stopped surviving and started remembering what made him one.
“The Canyon Unit,” he said finally, voice low. Hoarse but steady now. “We were deployed to the border trench. It was supposed to be routine reinforcement. Patrol and report.”
I leaned back in my seat. The infernal wine buzzed under my tongue like a second heartbeat, but I didn’t drink more. Not yet. His voice had that tone. That... survivor guilt flavor, with ash and fire underneath.
“We got ambushed,” Algan continued. “Celestial Hunters. Full regalia. Sanctified weapons.”
He didn’t flinch saying it, but his jaw tightened.
“It was a slaughter. At least at first. Their commander, an angel, high lieutenant, I think his name was Serial. Blonde. Gold wings. Fire chain weapon. Brutal. Efficient. He cut through us like it was sport.”
I remembered that name. Serial. Not famous. But not small either. One of those quiet reapers the Celestials liked to keep out of headlines.
“But we pushed back,” Algan said. “I don't know how. We lost too many. My second in command, Grusk, fell in the first charge. That broke morale. But the rage? It kicked in. Wrath doesn’t retreat. You know that.”
I nodded once.
“Eventually,” he said, “we managed to push them to the cliffs. Both sides were bleeding. But we held.”
“And then?” I asked. Already feeling the crackle. The wrong part of the story.
His shoulders slumped a little.
“That should’ve been the end,” he muttered. “Us dragging our wounded, waiting for reinforcement, carrying the ones who could still walk. I thought we made it.”
His fingers curled, nails tapping the stone table softly.
-Tap. Tap. Tap.
Like a drum beat to something worse.
“Then the mortals came.”
My wine stopped halfway to my mouth.
Algan didn’t look at me. He stared through me.
“They came with carts. Horses. Lanterns. Not soldiers. Not knights. Just… robed bastards. Alchemists maybe. Mages. I don’t know. They had strange tools. No holy aura. No infernal stench. Just cold eyes. Calculating.”
“They weren’t looking to finish the battle,” he said. “They were collecting. Us. Them. Everyone.”
He finally met my gaze. His own was darker now. Hot. Not from pain, but fury. Real Wrath fury. The kind you only saw after everything you swore to protect had been stepped on.
“I tried to crawl. I swear I did,” he said. “Tried to pull myself toward the shadows. But my legs were gone. My core was cracked. My senses were fractured. Every movement felt like needles dragging through bone.”
He breathed in. His chest rose, skin tight over hard muscle, the scales on his shoulders shifting.
“I saw one of them pick up Grusk’s core. He tapped it. Laughed. Said it was ‘still hot.’ Then he dropped it in a glass container like it was a damn trinket.”
I felt my own nails curl into the armrest.
“Demons. Angels. They didn’t care. We were trophies. Samples. Ingredients.”
He looked down at his hand. The one he had now. Flexed it.
“They got to me. They said I was precious. They put something around my core… some seal, maybe. Everything turned black after that. But before I blacked out, I heard them talk.”
My eyes narrowed. “Talk about what?”
He looked up again. Grim.
“A king. Of the mortal realm. They mentioned a lineage. Said something like, ‘The blood remembers.’ One of them asked if my core could be compatible. If the ‘royal reagent’ could be fused.”
I didn’t like that. I didn’t like it one bit.
“They kept saying things like ‘next phase’ and ‘transference compatibility’ and ‘phase-two colonization.’ It didn’t make sense.”
He rubbed his chest, right over the spot where his cracked core had once burned.
“Whatever it was… it wasn’t even alchemy. It was old. Like… sacrificial old. I smelled dried blood. I saw bones carved into ritual sigils.”
I stood. The wine bottle tilted. I didn’t realize I’d gripped it hard enough to bend the neck.
I put it down before I snapped it.
“And the cave?” I asked. “Describe it. What was inside it in the past?”
He nodded slowly, his expression tightening as if peeling the memory open hurt more than the wounds he’d just healed from.
"They dragged me through an opening shaped like a cracked mouth. Blackened marble pillars lined the entrance. At first, I thought it was Infernal, maybe ancient Wrath architecture. But when I looked closer, I saw Celestial tool marks. Sharp, clean cuts. Seals I didn’t recognize carved into the base. They cracked it open together, I think."
He rubbed his knuckles along his jaw, eyes unfocused.
"Inside… it was cold. Not the kind that bites your skin. The kind that gets into your marrow. Like time didn’t move there. There were chains embedded into the walls. Huge ones. Heavy enough for full-blood demons. And Celestial rings welded into the ceiling, light still flickered in them like starlight trapped forever."
He paused.
"A sigil was at the center. Floor-wide. Carved so deep the grooves were almost tunnels. Mixed languages. Some I understood… Old Infernal runes, fractured Celestial glyphs. But there was a third kind. Rough. Crooked. Primitive. Not demonic. Not divine. Mortal… or maybe both."
His voice dropped.
"They had relics. Bottled cores. Preserved essence. Angel feathers sealed in silver wax, humming with restrained light. Demon scales suspended in amber-like glass. Labeled. Tagged. Stored like lab specimens."
He shut his eyes.
"And the smell. Sweet, but wrong. Like perfume poured over rot. Like someone tried to hide the death stench but only made it worse. Every breath burned. Not from poison, but from insult."
When he opened his eyes again, there was rage in them. Clean. Focused. Old.
"They weren’t just scavenging," he said. "They were studying. Cataloguing. Like we were beasts. Not enemies. Not gods. Just… material. Flesh and mana. Soul properties. I heard them talking. They said something once, about a lineage. A mortal king. Something about reclaiming what was theirs."