November 1, 2026

Seven Sins System Chapter 910. You're Stuck with Me

For a while, neither of us moved. Not because we were enjoying the silence. Well, I was enjoying it, but that wasn't the main reason. The main reason was considerably less romantic. We were both exhausted.

Puriel remained beside me on the altar, her shoulder resting against mine while her fingers occasionally brushed through my hair. Her breathing had become steadier, and the faint golden light beneath her skin was no longer flickering erratically. At least her core was recovering.

Mine, meanwhile, felt like it had been dragged through a cathedral, beaten with a holy sword, and thrown into a furnace for additional seasoning. I had survived the extraction, but surviving and recovering were two entirely different things. Eventually, we began fixing our clothes.

It was a surprisingly complicated process.

Puriel could move more easily than I could, although every sudden movement still made her wince. She carefully adjusted her dress, smoothing the fabric over her shoulders before fastening the parts she'd loosened earlier. Her hair fell around her face, and she occasionally paused to catch her breath.

I watched her from the altar. Partly because I wanted to make sure she wasn't hurting herself. Mostly because I was still a shameless bastard. Some things never changed.

My own clothing presented a different problem. My arms worked, technically. They simply disagreed with the concept of lifting anything heavier than my dignity, which had already suffered enough damage today.

Puriel helped me button my shirt. Her fingertips occasionally brushed my chest, and every time they did, I had to remind myself that flirting with her was currently a terrible medical decision.

Once we were reasonably presentable, we sat side by side on the altar. I stretched my fingers. Then rolled my shoulders.

A dull ache spread down my spine, accompanied by an unpleasant burning sensation near my throat. Still there.

I swallowed experimentally. Regretted it immediately. Apparently, my throat had developed a personal hatred for the basic functions of being alive. I tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling.

The floating white flames continued burning above us, completely indifferent to my suffering. Golden inscriptions shimmered along the walls, while the black runes beneath the altar maintained their steady rhythm.

After several minutes, I decided to test my tentacles. They responded almost before I finished thinking. This time, however, their emergence sent a sharp ache through my shoulders.

My jaw tightened. One tentacle rose. Then another. The third twitched halfway through its movement, while the fourth and fifth curled weakly behind me.

That was pathetic. My terrifying, flesh-devouring appendages currently possessed the enthusiasm of six exhausted snakes.

I concentrated.

The first tentacle extended toward the ceiling, its tip opening to reveal the familiar rows of sharp teeth. Its eye blinked. Then it slowly turned toward me. I stared back. Even the damn thing looked tired.

I attempted to make it form a blade.

The dark flesh shifted. A narrow edge appeared. Then dissolved almost immediately. Pain rippled through my back. No point forcing it.

My tentacles were connected directly to my demonic channels. They had spent the entire extraction filtering poison, injecting regenerative essence, and maintaining the delicate balance between my energy and Puriel's holy core. They needed recovery just as badly as the rest of me. I allowed them to retract. We were all having a terrible day.

I activated Observation again, this time focusing on my own body.

[Observation Activated]

[Target: Azrael]

[Physical Condition: Severely Fatigued]

[Demonic Energy Channels: Strained]

[Residual Holy Energy: Detected]

[Foreign Demonic Toxin: Neutralization Ongoing]

[Regeneration Efficiency: Reduced]

[Recommendation: Abyssal Restoration]

I stared at the information. Even after all that, there were still traces of foreign energy circulating through my body. The demonic poison was being neutralized, but the holy residue was a different matter.

Some of Puriel's power had entered my channels during the extraction, and I couldn't be certain that microscopic traces of her blood hadn't accompanied it. Normally, my body could tolerate a small amount of holy energy. Not comfortably. But tolerating unpleasant things was practically part of my job description. This was different.

Her core had been cracked.

Its power was unstable, and the foreign toxin had tangled itself around the damaged structures. What I'd absorbed wasn't ordinary holy energy. It was a mixture of contamination, fractured celestial power, and whatever remnants had been trapped inside those wounds. I didn't want any of that remaining inside me. Especially with the Ancient One lurking in my body. That bastard was already difficult enough to manage without accidentally feeding it something interesting.

The last thing I needed was to discover that Puriel's blood had triggered some ancient supernatural catastrophe.

I was definitely going back to the Royal Abyss.

Another session in that pool should help purge whatever remained, restore my damaged channels, and accelerate my regeneration. Hell, I might spend the entire night there.

I glanced at Puriel. She was quietly studying her hands, occasionally flexing her fingers as though testing how much strength had returned. Her complexion was better. But she still needed proper healing.

A lot of it.

Her fingers slipped between mine, warm and gentle. "Thank you, El. For saving me."

I shrugged, immediately regretting the movement when my shoulders protested. "I just did what I should do."

She studied my face, her eyes lingering on the burns around my mouth.

I leaned closer. "But there's one more thing you need to remember." I let my smile turn into the familiar, wicked smirk she knew far too well. "You're mine." Her cheeks warmed. "And my dad has already made sure your mother signed the agreement. Our bond is protected now. You belong to Wrath." I brushed my thumb across her knuckles. "Forever."

Puriel held my gaze. There was no fear in her expression. No uncertainty about what those words meant between us. Only the quiet affection that had somehow become more dangerous to my sanity than any holy weapon. "Forever," she whispered.

I grinned. "Good. Because I'm a terribly possessive bastard and you're stuck with me."