Chapter 477. Engaged

Seven Sins System Chapter 477. Engaged

Azrael’s PoV

I stared at the thread of fate wrapped around my hand, and for a long moment, I fell silent.

The glow from the thread pulsed faintly, more vivid than it had ever been before, its light seemingly alive, reacting to something I couldn’t quite grasp.

My confusion was written plainly on my face. ‘Why did this suddenly appear again?’ I wondered. I had thought the thread would only show itself if Puriel and I were in the same place, or if something significant triggered it—like when we attacked each other, or when it first appeared because of the memory of our past connection. But now… now it had appeared without any clear reason.

I didn’t understand.

‘Does this have something to do with our feelings?’ The thought struck me hard. It made sense, in a way—if the thread reacted to more than just physical proximity, then maybe it responded to the emotions we tried so desperately to suppress. I thought back to earlier, to the moment I had made the necklace for her, to the burn I had received from the holy water. And Puriel… she had been watching me. I knew it was her outside my window. The roll of bandage I found was hers, of course. She must’ve seen Red with me and decided against approaching.

I glanced at Red, who was still standing in front of me, her eyes fixed on the thread as well. Her expression was hard to read, but I could sense the storm brewing within her. She was staring at the thread like it was some kind of enemy.

“Is that the thread you told me about?” she asked, her voice tight, laced with bitterness. “The one that binds you with her?”

I nodded, offering her a dry smile, but it was devoid of humor. The irony of it all wasn’t lost on me. “Yeah,” I said softly, staring down at the glowing thread on my wrist. "That’s the one. The one who somehow turned our relationship from sworn enemies to, like... engaged or something," I added, the bitterness in my voice mirroring Red’s.

The word ‘engaged’ felt strange on my tongue, almost laughable given everything that had happened between Puriel and me. But it was true, wasn’t it? This thread, this damned thing, had altered everything. What should have been a simple, age-old rivalry had twisted into something far more complicated, something I didn’t know how to deal with.

Red didn’t say anything at first, but I could see the way her jaw clenched, the way her hands balled into fists at her sides. I didn’t blame her for being angry, for being frustrated. This was beyond anything either of us had expected.

For centuries, she had been my loyal servant, the one who had fought beside me, bled for me. And now, here was this thread—this invisible bond that tied me to someone else.

To Puriel.

"I honestly don’t get how it ended up like this," I continued, my voice quieter now, more resigned. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were supposed to be enemies, destined to fight each other until one of us fell. But this thread… It changes everything. I don’t know how to explain it.”

I paused, my gaze drifting back to the glowing thread. The more I looked at it, the more frustrated I became. Thinking back, how could something so simple, so thin, cause so much chaos in my life? I had never asked for this. Neither had Puriel, I imagined.

Red finally spoke, her voice low, almost hesitant. “Do you want this, my lord?” Her tone carried more vulnerability than accusation. She wasn’t just asking about the thread. She wanted to know if I wanted her—if, despite this cursed thread of fate, I still wanted the relationship we had.

I glanced up at her, catching the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the way she held herself like she was bracing for a blow. Red had never looked at me like that before. And yet, here she was, uncertain, as if everything we had built could be swept away by this thread.

My gaze returned to the glowing line on my wrist.

Did I want this?

Did I want Puriel, of all creatures?

The answer should have been simple. No. I was a devil. She was a goddess. Our worlds were too different, too far apart for anything like this to work. And yet, the thread didn’t seem to care about logic or reason.

But did I want it?

“I didn’t ask for this,” I finally said, my voice rougher than I intended. “This thread… it’s not something I wanted. It’s not something either of us wanted.” I lifted my wrist slightly. “But here it is.”

Red remained silent, her eyes never leaving mine. She was waiting, waiting for me to say something that would make sense of all this, to give her reassurance that she still mattered, that her place in my life hadn’t been usurped by some invisible thread and the goddess it was tied to.

“I don’t know what it means,” I admitted, letting out a long sigh. “This connection with Puriel… it’s complicated. It’s not something I can just sever, even if I wanted to,” I said, my voice trailing off. Yet, I knew the answer didn’t satisfy her. Hell, it didn’t satisfy me either. I felt like I was caught in the middle of something I didn’t fully understand.

I knew I had grown feelings for Puriel, but the question that haunted me was simple.

Were these feelings real? Or were they simply a product of the thread? Was this all because our younger selves had made a naïve promise to be friends forever, unaware of what it would mean centuries later? I didn’t have the answer. I didn’t know if I even wanted to find it.

I reached out and touched Red’s face, pressing my palm against her cheek. “You're mad,” I said, my voice low. As the Lord of Wrath, I usually relished seeing people in this state—mad, angry, consumed by rage. But somehow, seeing her like this didn’t bring me the satisfaction it normally would. It felt different. Not because of Puriel, not because of the thread, but because Red’s anger wasn’t just a passing emotion. It came from a place deeper, from years of loyalty and devotion.

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