Chapter 467. Re-creating The Past

Seven Sins System Chapter 467. Re-creating The Past

I took the rock out of my pocket and stared at it for a moment, its purple hue catching the faint light that filtered through the trees.

‘I’ll just need to make another one then,’ I thought, a plan already forming in my mind. It seemed like the simplest solution—create something new, something better, and perhaps ease some of this gnawing discomfort that had taken root inside me.

But as I shifted slightly, my movement caused a branch to rustle above me. The sound was enough to draw Puriel’s attention.

I gasped quietly, knowing that the noise would alert her to my presence. Sure enough, she turned toward me in surprise, her eyes narrowing as she searched the shadows for the source of the disturbance.

There was no time to think. I quickly opened a portal behind me and stepped inside, my heart pounding with a mixture of adrenaline and something else—something closer to embarrassment.

I didn’t know if she had seen me, if she had realized it was me watching her from behind a tree like some kind of voyeur. The thought alone made me cringe.

I had teased her and called her out for being my “crazy stalker” since she always followed me around. So getting caught doing the same thing was an irony I wasn’t ready to face.

I emerged in my academy dorm. The room was still empty; Red hadn’t arrived yet. The silence amplified the unease that had settled deep in my chest. I tried to shake it off, but it clung to me like a shadow, refusing to let go.

Once again, I opened my hand and stared at the purple rock nestled in my palm. “Let’s create something better,” I whispered to myself, the words an attempt to regain some sense of control, to do something that might make this gnawing sensation go away.

One of my tentacles wriggled forward, slithering across the floor to a drawer on the other side of the room. It opened the drawer and retrieved a gold ring, one that I had taken as a trophy from one of the cultist leaders I had recently dealt with. The plan had been to sell the ring, to use the money to treat the trio before I returned to my realm as a goodbye. But since my stay in this realm was now indefinitely extended, I figured there was no need to rush.

I held the ring in one hand and the purple rock in the other, my mind already working on the design. “Devil's Craft!” I invoked my skill, using my demonic power on the two items.

The ring and the rock began to fuse, the metal reshaping itself, the stone embedding into it with a faint glow. I watched intently, focusing on the details, on creating something that would be as close to the original as possible.

Slowly, the form of a necklace began to take shape. The gold twisted and coiled, forming a chain, while the purple stone settled into a perfect setting at the center. I had taken the heart shape now.

I manipulated the metal, ensuring that the design matched the one I remembered from her necklace—the one she had lost. It was nearly identical, down to the smallest detail.

But as I inspected the finished product, I noticed something different. The stone had a slightly different pattern, a subtle swirl that marked it as unique, different from the original. But it couldn’t be helped since every rock, especially this kind, would have its own pattern.

I held the necklace up to the light, admiring my own craftsmanship. It was beautiful, almost perfect. Almost. But as I ran my fingers over the chain, I felt it—a faint trace of demonic power lingering in the metal. It was a residue of my own essence that had seeped into the creation. It was a problem I had encountered before. For my kin, for my servants, it was of no consequence. They could wear such items without issue.

But for Puriel… that was another matter entirely. She was a goddess and the presence of demonic energy, even in such a small amount, would be intolerable for her. She wouldn’t be able to wear it.

I set the necklace down on the table. It was nearly perfect, but there was one final step I needed to take. “Now for the final touch,” I muttered to myself, my voice low and tense.

In the past, I had dealt with this by bringing such items to a priest, convincing him that the necklace was cursed and needed to be purified. It was a lie, of course, but it had worked. The priest would bless the item, unknowingly stripping away the traces of my power and making it safe for her to use. But that was centuries ago, in a time when powerful priests were common, their faith strong enough to counteract my influence.

Now, in this modern era, such priests were almost non-existent. Their power had waned, their numbers dwindled, and finding one who could perform the same ritual was next to impossible. I had to resort to a different method, one that I had avoided for as long as I could.

I opened the drawer on my desk and pulled out a small, silver flask. Its surface was engraved with intricate designs that glinted faintly in the light. Inside was something that could both save and harm me—holy water, blessed by none other than Puriel herself. She had given it to me when she mistakenly thought it was my birthday.

After all, what use did a devil have for holy water?

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The effects of holy water on devils were well-known—painful, corrosive, a burning that went straight to the core. But this wasn’t just any holy water; it was blessed by Puriel, a goddess. The thought of what it might do to me was enough to make me hesitate.

“Get a grip,” I whispered to myself, trying to push down the hesitation that was rising in my chest.

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