Seven Sins System Chapter 875. Villain III
Seven Sins System Chapter 875. Villain III
The Queen’s PoV
At first glance, there was only scorched white stone.
Then she saw it.
Blood.
Not Puriel’s.
Devil blood.
Black, thick, and steaming faintly against the holy floor.
But it was mixed with silver.
The queen’s eyes narrowed.
Holy poison.
His blood had been contaminated with it.
A cold realization moved through her chest.
No one else noticed.
They had been too angry. Too focused on the blade near Puriel’s neck. Too offended by his presence. Too eager to see the devil as the threat.
But she had been close enough.
She had seen the tremor in his hand.
The way his burned fingers barely held steady beneath Puriel’s back. The stiffness in his shoulders. The unnatural stillness of his body, not arrogance but restraint. The way he stood as if one wrong breath would break something inside him.
He had hidden it well.
‘Crown prince’, she thought grimly.
Even half-poisoned, he had worn pride like armor.
The queen looked down at the blood again.
He had brought Puriel here while that poison burned inside him.
Through the Light Realm gate, a plaza that had actively rejected his body.
And still, he had stood straight.
Still, he had made himself look like the villain because it was faster than asking frightened soldiers to believe him.
The queen’s grip around Puriel softened.
Seems like the battle was harder than she expected.
If even Azrael had been wounded like that…
Then what exactly had they fought?
The captain spoke again, harder this time. “My queen, please. We must answer this.”
The queen finally looked at him. “No.”
The word dropped cleanly.
The captain froze. “My queen?”
“He did the right thing.”
The angels around them stiffened.
The captain’s expression twisted with disbelief. “He held a blade to her neck.”
“He did not cut her.”
“He threatened—”
“He forced you to wait.” Her voice sharpened. “And if he had not, half of you would have attacked him while my daughter’s core continued breaking in his arms.”
The captain went silent.
The queen stepped closer to him, Puriel still held carefully against her chest.
“You saw a demon,” she said. “I saw a wounded soldier carrying someone more important than his pride.”
The captain’s face paled.
She turned her gaze across the plaza, letting every angel there feel the weight of her words. “Azrael did not come here to conquer. He did not pass the gate. He did not strike first. He delivered Puriel and requested reinforcements.”
A few angels lowered their eyes.
The queen turned toward the healer path again. “We concentrate on Puriel. Nothing else.”
The captain bowed his head, jaw tight. “Yes, my queen.”
The air around her grew colder despite the light.
“And summon the other Virtues to my chamber.”
Several angels inhaled sharply.
The queen continued walking. “I need to speak with them.”
Puriel’s fingers twitched weakly against her sleeve.
The queen looked down.
For a moment, she was not ruler, not commander, not guardian of the gate.
Only a mother holding her wounded daughter.
Her voice softened, barely audible. “Hold on, my light.”
Then her face hardened again.
Because below them, in the mortal realm, whatever had cracked Puriel’s core had not yet finished breathing.
-----
Azrael’s PoV
I arrived home.
The dimensional gate room in my realm opened around me in black stone, red fire, and familiar shadow pressure.
Towering pillars circled the gate chamber. Lava veins glowed beneath the obsidian floor. Demonic guards turned sharply at my arrival.
For one second, relief almost hit me.
Almost.
Then the Shadow Realm noticed the poison.
The realm rejected it.
Violently.
The silver-gold contamination inside my body flared like a foreign parasite thrown into a hostile ocean. My demonic blood surged against it, trying to burn it out. The realm’s natural darkness pressed into my wounds, purging, crushing, tearing.
[Realm Shift Complete]
[Environment: Shadow Realm]
[Foreign Holy-Septic Poison Detected]
[Realm Rejection Triggered]
[Internal Conflict: Severe]
[Demonic Core: Intact]
[Body Stability: Critical]
[Recommendation: Immediate Treatment Required]
I took one step.
Then another.
My burned hand twitched.
My ribs failed to hold steady.
My knees hit the floor.
Hard.
The impact echoed across the gate chamber.
I coughed.
Blood hit the obsidian.
Not black devil blood.
Black mixed with silver poison, sizzling where it struck the floor. The droplets smoked, burning tiny holes into the stone before the realm’s darkness swallowed them.
Yeah.
Bad.
Very bad.
My vision blurred.
I tried to stand.
Failed.
Pathetic.
I hated that.
One tentacle stabbed into the floor, trying to support me. Another curled uselessly around my side where the holy wounds reopened beneath the armor. The eyes on my tentacles blinked weakly now, red glow dimmer, mouths shut tight like even they didn’t want to taste the air.
Then the room shook.
A pressure descended. Heavy. Darker than mine.
The kind of presence that made every demon in the gate chamber drop to one knee without thinking.
Diablo appeared.
My father stood in front of me, black cloak dragging behind him like night given weight. Horns crowned his head, eyes burning crimson, face hard enough to frighten war itself.
But when he saw me… that face changed. “Azrael!”
He came to me in a rush.
His hand caught my shoulder before I pitched forward completely. The contact sent shadow authority through my body, stabilizing me enough that I could breathe once without feeling my lungs melt. “What happened?”
I tried to answer properly.
Professional report.
Clear.
Concise.
No weakness.
Instead, I coughed again.
More black-silver blood spilled down my chin.
Diablo’s eyes darkened.
The whole gate chamber temperature dropped. “Who did this?”
That tone.
Oh.
Someone was going to die later.
I forced my mouth open. “The creature…”
My voice sounded rough. “Dual power…”
Dad’s grip tightened, not painful. Supporting. “What creature?”
“Holy… demonic… adaptive poison…”
My thoughts scattered.
I grabbed Dad’s sleeve with my burned hand. Pain shot up my arm. I didn’t let go.
“Reinforcement…”
His eyes sharpened. “Where?”
“Mortal realm…”
The room spun.
“Luci and Mamon…” My breathing hitched. “They’re in danger…”
I needed to say more.
The school.
The core.
The hidden clinic.
The seller network.
Puriel needed help.
Lumira too.
I needed to tell him everything.
But my body finally reached the end of its dramatic endurance budget.
My vision darkened.
Dad’s voice came closer, sharper. “Azrael. Stay with me.”
I almost laughed.
I wanted to say, ‘I’m Wrath, not Sloth. I don’t stay anywhere’.
But my mouth didn’t move.
The last thing I heard was his voice, colder than the Shadow Realm itself. “Summon the war healers.”
Then darkness swallowed me whole.