Chapter 342. The Dark Centaur
Seven Sins System Chapter 342. The Dark Centaur
The Malifex Clan's “mansion” was more like a massive, eerie cave, with winding passages twisting off into hidden rooms. If I could even call it “architecture,” it reflected the unique taste of the Malifex demons. Crystals stuck into the walls glowed softly, casting a dim, ghostly light across everything.
Strange symbols and markings covered the stone walls, adding to the weird vibe. Once I stepped into the central hall, I could hear voices and faint echoes from somewhere deep inside. The whole place was this strange mix of ancient and oddly modern, a mashup of demonic flair and pure mystery.
I couldn’t help but admire the dark aesthetics of the Malifex Clan’s “home.” Sure, it didn’t look like a mansion by any normal standards, but for beings that thrived in shadows and dabbled in the arcane, it was a perfect fit.
Navigating through the maze-like caves, I eventually ended up in what they considered their “living area.” Though, to me, it looked more like a chaotic mix of rocks and some kind of pulsating, living slime. This wasn’t a typical cozy living room—no couches or coffee tables here. It reflected the clan’s bizarre taste.
Even though the Malifex Clan controlled vast territories, they chose to hunker down in this secluded cavern. The clan’s dwindling numbers had left most of their land unused, almost forgotten, as if waiting for something—or maybe someone—to bring them back to life.
This “living room” served as a meeting spot, and from what I’d heard, it was where they held their strange rituals. The Malifex Clan, notorious for their twisted logic and odd traditions, had kept these ways alive for generations.
The woman caught in my tentacle grip thrashed and struggled, clearly terrified. Her muffled screams bounced off the cavern walls, her eyes wide with fear as she took in the creepy, demonic decor. The stone walls, the slimy, pulsing stuff covering parts of the floor, and the dim glow from the crystals—all of it felt disturbingly out of this world.
“Xalgrim, I brought you a bride!” I called out. Usually, the word “bride” would stir up some excitement among the clan, but this time, I got nothing. Silence.
The room, dimly lit by those weird, pulsing crystals, seemed to absorb my words, like the place itself was listening. The living slime on the walls twisted and moved.
No matter how many times I called out, the chief, Xalgrim, didn’t show. His stubborn refusal to come out was starting to wear on my patience.
Growing annoyed, I finally shouted, “Come on, show yourself already! I know you heard me! I’ve got things to do, you know!” Frustration was clear in my voice; dealing with the Malifex Clan always took a lot of persistence, and today was no exception.
The shadows shifted around me, and a few faint voices echoed from hidden corners, murmuring in response to my presence.
“It’s the prince,” one voice whispered with respect.
“Azrael. It’s Azrael,” another confirmed, spreading the news through the cavern. Apparently, a visit from the prince of the realm was still a big deal for them.
Amid the quiet excitement, a voice spoke up with a note of intrigue. “I smell a woman. A bride,” it murmured, catching my attention. The comment lingered in the air, hinting at their odd obsession.
With a roll of my eyes, I replied, “Yep. Brought you a beautiful bride,” my voice laced with sarcasm and irritation. The woman dangled helplessly in my grip, still kicking and trying to break free.
I adjusted my tentacles, making sure she was held firmly as her legs flailed around. Then, I looked down at her with a casual smirk, tilting my head like I was sizing her up. “Give them a good scream,” I suggested, lowering the tentacles covering her mouth.
Without missing a beat, she let out a blood-curdling “AAAHHHHH!” Her scream echoed throughout the chamber, raw and full of terror. After a few seconds, I covered her mouth again, just to give her a breather.
“There,” I announced to the Malifex Clan with a smirk, a bit of satisfaction in my tone.
“Nice voice… Very nice…” a voice murmured from the shadows. They seemed to appreciate the intensity of her scream, oddly pleased by her display of fear.
Once her scream faded, the living slime on the floor seemed to pulse in response, almost like it was feeding off her fear.
The woman, still trapped in my tentacles, was breathing heavily, her eyes darting around the room, clearly overwhelmed by the demonic atmosphere.
The shadows in front of me began to gather and shift, taking form about ten meters away. The darkness twisted and condensed, until five figures emerged, their shapes gradually solidifying from the shadows themselves.
The last of the shadows faded. Their true forms were revealed. These weren’t ordinary demons—they were dark centaurs.
The upper halves of these creatures were like muscular, dark-skinned demons, with powerful torsos and ominous goat-like horns curling from their heads, giving them an intimidating look. Their lower halves, however, were pure equine power, with the legs and hindquarters of horses. Their obsidian-black hooves struck the stone floor with a rhythmic, echoing sound as they stepped closer.
They closed in, their eyes fixed on the woman in my grip, their expressions a mix of curiosity and hunger.
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