Seven Sins System Chapter 743. High-value Assets

Seven Sins System Chapter 743. High-value Assets

I leaned back down, letting the seat creak as I sat, then slammed my goblet on the table. Wine splashed. Servants flinched. Algan didn’t move.

"That little detail you just gave me?" I said low. “Might be the entire key to this mess.”

He tilted his head.

I looked at him and tapped two fingers against my temple. “Mortals aren’t just salvaging power from our wars. They’re breeding it.”

He blinked.

“Creating bloodlines. Harvesting core fragments. Mixing divine with infernal. Building soldiers. Or kings. Or… Gods.”

“Like we’re just… parts to a machine,” Algan spat.

I smiled. Cold. “No, Algan. Like we’re currency. High-value assets.”

His face twisted. “They’re trading us?”

“Worse,” I said. “They’re investing.”

He stood slowly, jaw tight, muscles flexing. “Then why the hell are we sitting here?”

“Because we need proof and targets,” I snapped. “Real. Tangible. Not just a random target.”

He stared. “You already have a plan.”

I grinned. “You think I’d be drinking blood-wine with you in my palace if I didn’t?”

The firelight behind me cracked loud, like thunder under velvet.

Algan sat back down. Took another chunk of meat from the platter and tore into it with teeth. "Then tell me where to start."

I raised my glass. “Welcome back to Wrath, Lieutenant.”

He looked at me. No more slumped shoulders. No more hesitation in his voice. No more crackling breath like his lungs still remembered the death he almost didn’t escape. He lifted a new goblet one of the servants had silently placed beside him.

We clinked glasses.

His eyes burned like they used to.

War was off the table.

But vengeance?

That was still on the menu.

“I’m ready, My Lord.”

“No,” I said. “You’re not. Not yet.”

He blinked. His fists clenched. I could see it in his jaw, the tension crawling back into his shoulders like armor reattaching itself. He didn’t say anything. Not yet. But the urge to snap was right there under his skin.

I just smirked.

“Come with me.”

I turned and walked out, cloak dragging across the cracked obsidian floor of the Wrath Palace. Behind us, the last servants were still clearing the bones from the table. Literally. Some were still twitching. The smell of scorched meat and burned herbs clung to the air, thick and violent. Our boots left red marks across the stone, but no one cleaned those. We were heading somewhere that didn’t require polished floors.

I used my Teleportation skills and brought him with me. And we appeared in the shadow realm palace. In front of the throne room.

I waved my hand. The doors to the throne room opened with a heavy groan. And there he was.

My father.

King Diablo.

Sitting lazily, but with the kind of presence that could end continents. One leg draped over the other.

Yeah, he was in the king’s mode. Not fooling around like usual. Well… No one could fool around after what happened.

A reminder that all of this? Still belonged to him.

He didn’t rise. Didn’t speak. Just tilted his head slightly.

And smiled.

The kind of smile that knew your sins before you confessed them.

I walked forward with Algan at my side, then stopped a few meters from the base of the throne. Even I didn’t walk right up unless invited.

"Father,” I said, voice even.

Diablo didn’t respond. Not with words.

His eyes cut to Algan.

And Algan?

Algan’s eyes flared instantly. His entire body went rigid.

Wrath instincts. That unfiltered pulse of rage that made demons like us dangerous. He was still made because of that agreement.

I watched Diablo’s eyes narrow just a little. Amused, sure.

But not pleased.

And before my father could lift a finger, literally or metaphorically, I spoke.

“Lieutenant Algan.”

My voice snapped through the chamber like a crack of thunder.

“Remember what I said to you.”

Algan stiffened. Chest heaving once. Twice. Then…

He dropped his head.

“My King,” he said, low and strained. “Forgive my insolence.”

Diablo didn’t answer immediately. Just leaned back a little further, swirling the chalice in his hand. The blood inside rippled like it heard everything.

“You have temper issues, soldier,” Diablo said finally.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good.” He grinned, baring teeth. “Wrath’s useless without it.”

I exhaled. My chest finally loosening.

Yeah. That was close.

“Why did you bring him here?” Diablo asked now, gaze sliding to me. “Don’t tell me it’s a reunion party.”

“No. He’s the bat. I managed to restore him.”

That got my father’s attention. His goblet stopped moving.

“Lieutenant Algan. He survived the Canyon ambush,” I continued. “The one with the celestial hunters. Angels. The massacre. He was there.”

Silence spread like oil across fire.

“He crawled through the aftermath, hid his cracked core inside that bat just to survive long enough to return.”

Diablo’s jaw twitched. Just once. His rage didn’t burst like ours. It boiled. Quietly. “And now you want to take him with you?” Diablo guessed, eyes narrowing.

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I chose him.”

“Hm.”

He sounded skeptical. I could see it in the way he stared at Algan now.

He wasn’t dismissing him anymore.

But of course. He had to push.

“So you want to bring him to the mortal realm.”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Not immediately.”

Algan twitched beside me. “Your Highness?”

I turned to him. Calm. Collected.

“You still have family here in the Shadow Realm,” I said. “You need to see them. Tell them you’re alive.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

I went on. “I already paid compensation to them. For every soldier we lost. Every family touched by that war. I nearly emptied my Wrath vaults doing it.”

His eyes widened. For real this time.

“You… you did that?”

“Of course I did,” I said simply. “I’m Wrath. Not Greed. Money doesn’t rule me. Pain does.”

Algan’s jaw clenched. His gaze dropped.

“Thank you, My Lord.”

I just nodded.

Diablo finally stood. His presence filled the entire chamber like a second heartbeat.

“Take him then,” he said.