Seven Sins System Chapter 846. I am Your Follower
Seven Sins System Chapter 846. I am Your Follower
The floor cracked beneath my boots as I shot forward. Five tentacles erupted behind me, each tip sharpening into blades. Not hooks. Not mouths. Not playful restraints. Blades.
I was going to kill him.
This guy was dead anyway. Undead. Soul thief. Body thief. Old corpse wearing new flesh. Whatever technical term the Light Realm wanted to cry about later, it wasn’t “protected mortal citizen.”
So technically?
Not violating the agreement.
Beautiful loophole.
My tentacle blades slashed down toward his throat.
For a moment, his face showed fear.
Real fear.
The kind that widened the stolen eyes and made the lips tremble because even with all his stolen tricks, something inside him remembered what Wrath meant.
Then…
He smirked.
“Oh?”
He raised one hand.
The souls screamed.
Not willingly.
Pulled.
Dragged.
The trapped souls around the chamber were yanked toward him by invisible hooks, their translucent forms stretching into streaks of pale light. Old souls. Young souls. Crying souls. Furious souls. All slammed together in front of him, forming a barrier.
My blades hit it.
-CLANG!
Not a sound flesh should make.
Not a sound souls should make either.
My tentacles recoiled slightly from the impact.
The barrier didn’t break.
Instead, green-black sparks exploded outward, carrying faint traces of Wrath and Envy.
My eyes narrowed.
Oh.
So that was how.
[Attack Interrupted]
[Barrier Type: Soul Composite Shield]
[Foreign Authority Detected: Wrath Essence / Envy Essence]
[Damage Transfer Risk: Bound Souls]
[Warning: Direct Force May Harm Captive Souls]
The necromancer smiled wider. “Too naive.”
I slowly lowered my blades.
He chuckled, stepping back with theatrical ease. “I am your follower, my lord.”
Ugh.
Hearing that from him made my skin crawl.
“I consumed devil essence,” he said proudly, spreading his arms as if giving a lecture at a private club full of idiots. “I refined it. I fed it into the dead. Into the vows. Into my beloved. Into this house.”
The chamber pulsed around us.
The floor veins brightened.
“And it made me powerful.”
The souls forming the barrier trembled, faces twisting in pain as they were forced to shield him.
“More powerful than any normal necromancer.”
Luci and I exchanged one glance.
No joke this time.
Because yeah.
This guy was different.
The fake Greed and Pride hybrid we fought before had been obvious. Loud. Mutating. Self-destructing under the weight of stolen Sin. The power tortured it. Deformed it. Made it unstable.
But this one?
No transformation.
No twisted monster body.
No uncontrolled mutation.
He had consumed scraps of Wrath and Envy and somehow neutralized the backlash.
Not fully.
There was still rot in the spellwork. Still madness in the structure.
But he had built anchors.
The bride.
The lover.
The guests.
The stolen bodies.
He didn’t let the Sin eat him.
He fed the Sin into other people first.
I looked toward the crystalline torture chamber.
The lover’s soul convulsed inside, pierced by looping needles of necromantic light.
Then toward the bride.
Her bound soul shook weakly beside her preserved body.
“I wonder,” I muttered, “if it’s because of that decoration and the woman.”
Luci’s eyes followed mine. He understood immediately. “He used them as stabilizers.”
The necromancer laughed softly.
“You see? You understand now. Love is the greatest binding. Grief is the strongest thread. Jealousy, devotion, betrayal, longing… all of it can hold power better than bone.”
I stared at him. “You’re making me regret teaching mortals metaphors.”
Luci moved slightly to my side, violet light gathering around his claws. “Just kill him.”
I glanced at him.
He looked toward the bride and the crystal prison. “I will take care of the girl and the pathetic lover.”
The trapped lover lifted his head weakly at the insult, then seemed too tired to be offended.
I nodded. “Got it.”
Then I lunged again.
This time, I didn’t strike the barrier directly.
I slid under it.
My body dissolved into shadow for half a heartbeat, my boots scraping across the floor as I passed beneath the soul shield’s lowest edge. The necromancer’s eyes widened.
He wasn’t used to fighting devils.
Only worshipping fragments.
My tentacle blade snapped upward toward his ribs.
He twisted away, faster than a normal stolen body should move. Necromantic strings yanked his limbs like a puppet controlled by several hands at once. My blade cut through his coat, opening a slash across his side.
No blood.
Black-green liquid spilled instead.
The host soul screamed silently, clutching its own side.
I clicked my tongue. “Still connected to the body.”
[Hit Confirmed]
[Damage Type: Physical / Necromantic Vessel]
[Host Soul Feedback: Minor]
[Recommendation: Sever Possession Thread Before Lethal Damage]
I couldn’t just shred the body if the original soul remained attached to it.
The necromancer noticed my hesitation instantly.
His smile returned. “Ah. There it is.” He touched the cut in his coat, then lifted stained fingers. “You care.”
I stared at him. “You sound surprised.”
“You are Wrath.”
“And?”
He laughed. “Wrath should destroy.”
I moved again.
He threw a wave of soul chains toward me. I cut three, dodged two, caught one with a tentacle and yanked hard enough to rip it from the floor. The attached corpse collapsed harmlessly.
“Wrath destroys what deserves it,” I said.
He sneered. “So righteous.”
“No. Professional.”
Behind him, Luci reached the crystal prison.
Puppet bridesmaids lunged at him, dead hands clawing toward his face. He stopped them with one lifted finger, violet pressure pinning them midair like bugs on a board.
“Do not,” he said coldly, “touch the skincare.”
Then he sliced their strings without looking.
The bodies dropped.
Luci studied the crystal, one hand hovering near its surface.
He felt the resistance the moment his power touched the crystal.
Not physical resistance.
Emotional.
The prison wasn’t just holding the lover’s soul inside. It was tied to the bride’s grief, wrapped around her soul like a second chain. If he shattered it with brute force, the pain would snap backward into her too.
His expression darkened behind the sheet mask.
“…Tch.”
So this wasn’t a cage.
It was a knot.
A very ugly, very delicate knot.
And Pride hated ugly things that required patience.
Luci grimaced. “Azrael.”
“Busy.” I kept fighting.
“This thing is disgusting.”
“Everything here is disgusting.”
“No, this is technically disgusting.”