Seven Sins System Chapter 876. Royal-grade Suffering I
Seven Sins System Chapter 876. Royal-grade Suffering I
Pain.
That was the first thing I recognized when consciousness crawled back into my skull.
Deep. Heavy. Everywhere.
It wrapped around my bones like molten chains and squeezed until my nerves remembered they were alive purely to complain.
I opened my eyes.
Darkness greeted me.
Ancient darkness.
The kind that had weight, memory, hunger.
Millions of demonic letters covered the walls, carved into black stone and filled with pulsing red light. The language was older than most demon houses, older than court law, older than the first idiot mortal who thought summoning a devil would end well for him.
The letters shifted slowly, rewriting themselves every few breaths.
Healing formulas.
Pain-binding curses.
Blood restoration rites.
Core-pressure stabilization.
And a few threats written by ancient healers who clearly had no bedside manner.
Below the words, screams echoed.
Damned souls.
Their cries rose through the stone like steam, twisting with the smell of sulfur, iron, old blood, and raw demonic power.
I looked down.
Ah.
That explained why my body felt like it had been placed inside a blender owned by Wrath.
I was in the Royal Abyss Chamber.
The ancient healing chamber for demons.
And by chamber, I meant a massive black pool sunk into the floor, filled with liquid darkness so thick it looked alive. Red bubbles rose from underneath and burst against my skin, each one releasing demonic energy directly into my wounds.
It hurt.
Healing in the Abyss Chamber was not gentle.
It did not soothe you.
It judged your weakness, insulted your bloodline, then forced your body to remember how to be monstrous.
This one was much more concentrated than the pool where I threw Algan so he could get back to his true form.
That pool was painful.
This?
This was royal-grade suffering.
Premium agony.
Ancient family tradition.
The good thing was, this pool had its own legend.
They said it could turn even the purest angel into a demon if she was dropped into it long enough.
Just a legend, of course.
Not a single angel had ever been dropped here.
Mainly because the Light Realm would lose its collective feathers and start another war.
They had their version too.
A holy restoration spring that supposedly could turn a devil into an angel.
Disgusting rumor.
Terrible branding.
I tried to move.
Bad idea.
My whole body flinched.
Pain ripped through my burned hand, ribs, shoulders, back, and channels. The pool reacted instantly, black liquid crawling higher over my chest like it was offended I dared move before being fully repaired.
[Consciousness Restored]
[Location: Shadow Realm (Royal Abyss Chamber)]
[Core Status: Intact]
[Internal Holy-Septic Poison: 16% Remaining]
[Previous Contamination Level: 31%]
[Poisoned Blood Expulsion: Severe]
[Blood Loss: High]
[Demonic Channel Damage: Moderate-Severe]
[Regeneration Efficiency: Recovering]
[Recommendation: Remain Immersed]
I stared at the panels.
So I had coughed a lot of poisoned blood.
Yup.
Understandable.
Honestly, considering I walked through the Light Realm while carrying Puriel, I was lucky my lungs didn’t resign completely.
Voices moved outside the chamber.
Low.
Controlled.
War healers.
And Dad.
“…seventh purge complete, Your Majesty. The holy poison is resistant, but the Abyss pressure is forcing it into the bloodstream.”
“Core damage?”
“None. His core is stable. Angry, but stable.”
That was my core. Very professional.
Another voice answered, “His hand will need time. The burn reached the demonic nerve lattice. Regeneration is active, but the holy residue delayed closure.”
Dad’s voice came colder. “How long?”
“Hours for function. Days for full stability.”
Silence.
Then Diablo said, “Dismissed.”
The war healers answered together. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Their footsteps faded.
The huge doors opened without sound.
Dad walked in.
Yeah.
He still wore that appearance.
Not the lazy, careless, irresponsibly king form he usually wore when he wanted everyone to forget he could end countries by blinking wrong.
No.
This was Diablo.
King of the Underworld.
Black royal armor. Long cloak like living night. Horns crowned high and sharp. Eyes burning crimson-gold. Authority pressed around him so hard the ancient letters on the walls brightened when he passed.
Guess we were in that serious condition, huh?
He stopped beside the pool and looked down at me. “Oh,” he said. “You’re awake already.”
I stared at him.
My throat felt like sandpaper dipped in poison. “Cut the crap.”
His eyebrow lifted.
I forced the words out. “How are Mamon and Luci?”
Dad’s face did not change, but something in his eyes eased slightly. “They’re back already.”
My body relaxed before I allowed it.
Only a little.
“I sent Levi and Asmo to reinforce them after you collapsed,” he continued. “The mission is a success. They managed to secure the core.”
I exhaled slowly. “The demonic one?”
“Yes. The demonic core sample is in containment.” Dad folded his arms. “The holy one was separated. Lumira took it.”
“I see…”
My eyes shifted to the black liquid around me.
The pool bubbled against my ribs, forcing more poison out through tiny wounds. Black-silver threads leaked from my skin and dissolved into the abyss water with angry hisses.
Good. But still hurt like hell.
I was silent. Because there was one question stuck behind my teeth.
Puriel.
Her pale face.
Her weak breath.
Her cracked core pulsing black-red.
Her unconscious hand hanging toward me when the queen carried her away.
I wanted to ask. Desperately.
But somehow I held myself.
Not the time.
Also, Dad probably would not like the fact that the first thing I asked after nearly dying was about an angel woman.
A Goddess of Chastity.
My former nemesis.
My… complicated problem.
Dad looked at me. Long.
Then he said, “Don’t you want to ask about Puriel?”
Tch!
Of course, he knew.
I kept my face flat. “I asked about Luci and Mamon. Not her.”
“You were avoiding the question.”
“I’m injured. Be kind.”
“I am being kind. I have not mocked you yet.”
I looked at him. “That is your definition of kindness?”
“For you? Yes.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
Mistake.
Puriel’s face appeared behind them.
I opened them again.
Dad’s gaze sharpened. “I heard you brought her to the Upper Realm. That is why the holy poison acted more violently,” he said. “You carried her through holy pressure while already contaminated.”
“I had no choice.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed. “You had one.”
I said nothing.
His voice turned quieter. “You could have dropped her at the gate and left.”
The words sank into the chamber.