Seven Sins System Chapter 813. Who Cares About Control?

Seven Sins System Chapter 813. Who Cares About Control?

The moment the thought settled, my body moved before anything else could interrupt it.

No warning.

No countdown.

Just instinct.

My tentacles extended outward, six arcs of dark steel flashing through the dim void of the Shadow Space. Their tips cut through the air with a hiss that felt almost relieved.

Luci met me halfway.

His hands twisted mid-motion, fingers elongating into claws, elegant, deadly, perfectly aligned with his whole ‘I refuse to get dirty but will absolutely ruin you’ aesthetic. His wings flared slightly behind him, not fully extended, just enough to anchor his balance as he lunged.

We collided.

Not gracefully.

Not strategically.

Just impact.

My first strike came from the left, a sweeping arc meant to test his reaction speed. He didn’t dodge. He caught it. Clawed hand gripping one of my tentacles mid-swing, stopping it inches from his shoulder.

The force cracked the ground beneath us.

He twisted.

Hard.

The motion yanked me forward, momentum shifting instantly. I let it happen, stepped into it and drove my other arm toward his ribs. He blocked with his forearm, the collision sending a shockwave rippling outward, slamming into the surrounding shadow walls.

The space responded.

It didn’t break.

But it shook.

Good.

That meant we weren’t holding back.

“Still sloppy,” he muttered.

“Still talking,” I shot back.

I pivoted, my lower tentacles snapping downward like spears. He kicked off the ground, wings giving him just enough lift to avoid being skewered, then dropped back in with a downward slash aimed straight at my shoulder.

I turned into it.

Let it graze.

Pain flared, sharp, immediate, grounding.

But it disappeared quickly.

[HP Regeneration Activated]

I grabbed his wrist mid-follow-through and pulled him in, driving my forehead into his.

Headbutt.

Clean.

Solid.

The sound echoed like stone hitting stone.

He didn’t stagger.

He drove his knee upward into my abdomen immediately after, the impact folding my breath for half a second. I released him, stepping back, tentacles lashing outward again, this time faster, tighter, controlled chaos.

They struck in sequence.

Left.

Right.

High.

Low.

He blocked most.

Deflected some.

One slipped through, cutting across his side, shallow but enough to draw a thin line of red.

He hissed.

Not in pain.

In irritation.

The space around us flickered as our movements escalated. Every step cracked the ground beneath us, every impact sent ripples through the pocket dimension. Walls warped slightly under the pressure, shadows bending and reforming as if trying to keep up with the force we were throwing around.

I lunged again.

No hesitation.

Closed distance.

No room for elegance.

Just hands.

Fists.

Claws.

We traded blows.

Fast.

Brutal.

No rhythm.

No pattern.

A strike to the jaw? Blocked.

A hook to the ribs? Countered.

A shoulder slam? Returned twice as hard.

He grabbed my arm, twisted, tried to throw me.

I anchored with two tentacles, reversed the motion, dragged him down instead, we hit the ground together.

The impact cratered the surface beneath us, cracks spiderwebbing outward in every direction. I rolled immediately, kicking upward as he tried to pin me, catching him in the chest just enough to create space.

We separated.

Breathing heavier now.

Not tired.

Just… alive.

Luci straightened slowly, adjusting his stance.

“Reckless,” he said.

“Slow,” I replied.

He smirked faintly.

“I am controlled.”

“Who cares about control?”

We moved again.

Faster this time.

No testing.

No holding back.

My tentacles whipped around him, not to stab but to restrict, locking his movement for half a second. That was all I needed. I stepped in, drove a punch straight into his sternum.

The sound?

Heavy.

Dense.

Like hitting reinforced steel.

He absorbed it.

Then retaliated.

His clawed hand shot forward, catching my shoulder and slamming me sideways into the shadow wall. The surface rippled like liquid before solidifying again, the force sending cracks of light through the dark structure.

I pushed off immediately, spinning mid-air and launching myself back toward him.

We met again.

Mid-space.

Another collision.

Another shockwave.

The impact rippled outward like a contained quake. The walls buckled. Floors cratered under our feet, chunks of fractured structure tearing loose and collapsing into dust. The air vibrated with a constant rumble, deep, relentless, while debris lifted, spun, and shattered mid-air, reduced to drifting gray haze that clung to everything.

Behind us, a voice cut through the chaos.

“Azrael! Stop it!”

Puriel.

Sharp. Clear. Commanding.

She stepped forward, wings flaring slightly, light gathering in her palm like she was seconds away from forcing us apart. Her eyes flicked between me and Luci, trying to read the rhythm of the fight.

“Both of you, stop this! What are you doing?” she demanded.

I heard her.

I did.

Ignored it.

Completely.

Lumira moved beside her, more hesitant but no less urgent. “Please, this isn’t necessary,” she said, voice strained. “You’re not enemies… right? This isn’t… punishment?”

Another impact shook the space as Luci and I collided again.

Puriel clenched her jaw. “This isn’t strategy,” she muttered. “This is just—”

“—madness?” Lumira finished softly.

Algan exhaled beside them, arms crossed.

“Thinking,” he said flatly.

Puriel blinked at him.

“…This is thinking?”

“Yes.”

Another explosion echoed.

They didn’t look convinced.

A pause.

Then Algan’s voice, calm as ever.

“This is normal.”

I almost laughed.

“Especially among the Seven Sin Lords,” he continued.

Luci’s claw caught my side again, dragging downward. I hissed slightly, more from the sensation than the damage, and retaliated immediately, two tentacles slamming into his back, forcing him forward.

He twisted mid-motion, grabbing one of them and snapping it back toward me, using my own momentum against me.

I let it happen.

Closed distance again.

Another strike.

Another block.

Another impact that echoed through the space like distant thunder.

Behind us, Puriel and Lumira stayed back, confusion written all over their expressions.

They didn’t understand.

Of course, they didn’t.

They weren’t demons.

This wasn’t anger.

Not entirely.

This was release.

Alignment.

Luci’s claw grazed my cheek.

I didn’t react.

I drove my fist into his shoulder instead.

He caught it.

Held it.

For a second.