Seven Sins System Chapter 843. A Love Letter Written in Murder
Seven Sins System Chapter 843. A Love Letter Written in Murder
The bride’s soul looked at me with terrified hope.
Beside me, Luci exhaled like a man finally released from a boring conversation.
“Damn…” he muttered.
His voice was almost emotional.
“I was really waiting for this.”
Dark violet aura exploded from him.
His wings opened with a sharp, violent sweep, tearing through the stagnant air. Horns curved from his head. His claws lengthened. His posture straightened into that ridiculous noble elegance only Pride could weaponize.
And then…
A spotlight hit him.
A random shaft of pale light from somewhere above, cutting through the chamber and landing perfectly on his figure.
I slowly turned my head toward him.
Deadpanned.
“…Really?”
Luci didn’t even look at me. He lifted his chin slightly. “What?”
“Where did that come from?”
“Presence.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only answer you deserve.”
The possessed man stood speechless.
Understandable.
One devil revealing five tentacles was bad enough. Two Sin Lords breaking puppet theater protocol while one wore a skincare sheet mask and still somehow received dramatic lighting?
That would damage anyone’s mind.
Then the man’s face changed.
Fear.
Recognition.
Mad delight.
“The devils…”
His voice shook.
“The devils have come…”
Then he laughed.
A full cracked, broken, insane laugh that bounced around the corpse room and made the candles flicker blue.
“Yes…” he whispered.
Then louder.
“Yes!”
Oh no.
“At last!”
He spread his arms wide.
“You have heard my prayer!”
I leaned slightly toward Luci without taking my eyes off him. “He prayed to us?”
Luci tilted his head, watching the man with faint disgust. “I guess.”
“He looks more like yours.”
“Excuse you.”
“A dramatic old-style suit? Obsession with presentation? Wedding theme?”
“I will stab you.”
I hummed.
Luci added quietly, “But yes. Many of our followers are… sick in the head.”
“No kidding.”
“This one must be that kind.”
The man stepped forward, trembling with excitement.
“My lords,” he breathed, voice cracking between reverence and madness. “My lords of sin. My beautiful witnesses. My glorious patrons.”
Luci stiffened slightly.
I glanced at him.
He whispered, “He called us beautiful.”
“Don’t encourage him.”
The man turned toward the bride on the altar, face twisted with desperation.
“My bride…” His voice softened. “Please. Give her immortality.”
The chamber went colder.
The bride’s soul shrank against her body.
The man clasped both hands together like he was begging at church.
“So we can live forever together.”
I stared at him.
Luci’s expression soured visibly beneath his sheet mask.
The man continued, words spilling out faster now.
“I preserved her as best I could. I did what I could. I learned from old books, old rituals, old whispers. I listened. I listened to the voices beneath the soil. I fed the house. I fed the altar. I fed the vow.”
His eyes grew wet.
“But her body…”
He looked back at the bride.
“…is too stiff. Too cold.”
A sick tenderness entered his face.
“I want her alive.”
His voice lowered.
“I want her warm.”
The bride’s soul began shaking harder.
“I want her to love me.”
My gaze shifted to her.
She looked terrified.
Her soul’s hands clawed weakly at the invisible bindings holding her to that preserved body. The physical bride remained seated like a doll with heartbeat trapped inside it. Her eyes were open now, barely, unfocused and glassy, but the soul inside screamed without sound.
I turned back to the man. “I don’t think she wants that.”
His smile vanished.
For one second, the charming dead-era gentleman mask cracked.
Something ugly looked out.
“What?”
I pointed toward the bride with one tentacle. “She looks like she wants to get out of here.”
The man’s face tightened. “No. She is confused.”
Luci let out a low, humorless laugh. “That always means no.”
The man glared at him. “She is confused because that peasant filled her head with lies.”
I said nothing.
Let him talk.
Villains loved explaining themselves when they thought someone powerful was listening.
“That servant boy,” he spat, pacing now. “That low-born thief. He tried to take her away from me.”
“I loved her,” the man continued. “I was promised to her.”
The bride’s soul shook her head desperately.
“No?” I said softly.
The man ignored me.
“She was young. Foolish. Influenced by vulgar dreams. She thought love meant choice.”
Luci’s claws flexed.
I felt Pride’s disgust sharpen like glass.
“She tried to run with him,” the man hissed.
Then he smiled.
Small.
Cruel.
“So I killed him.”
The displaced soul froze.
Even though he probably already knew.
Hearing it still hurt him.
I watched his translucent face collapse.
The man laughed lightly.
“Then she cried. She screamed. She cursed me.”
The bride’s soul sobbed silently.
“She killed herself.”
The chamber seemed to exhale.
The man continued, like this was a tragedy that happened to him. “She left me. Again. Even in death, she abandoned me.”
He turned toward the bride, expression softening in the most disgusting way possible.
“So I revived her.”
The bride’s soul trembled. “I bound her soul to her preserved body. I stitched every promise back into place. I gave her home. I gave her ceremony. I gave her forever.”
He spread his arms toward the room of corpses.
“And I promised her…”
The dead guests twitched.
“We are going to celebrate our wedding day every day.”
My tentacles lowered slightly.
Not relaxed.
Ready.
The man smiled proudly.
“So I killed the guests.”
The old souls in the chamber wept louder.
“All her family and friends.”
The younger souls stared with pure hatred.
“To accompany us.”
The man looked at us with shining eyes, completely convinced he had made the most romantic argument in existence.
“She will never be lonely again.”
A corpse bridesmaid near the wall twitched in her chair.
A father in old formal clothing sat slumped beside the aisle, hands tied with ceremonial ribbons, head tilted permanently toward the bride like his last sight had been his daughter trapped at an altar.
The whole room was a love letter written in murder.