Seven Sins System

Seven Sins System Chapter 248. The Echoing Hall

"Why are you here? Don't you want to rest before your trial?" my dad's voice echoed in his office as I materialized before him, using my teleportation skill. He was seated behind his imposing desk, engrossed in the documents sprawled out in front of him. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced along the walls. It felt as though time itself had paused within this chamber of authority.

I approached him, my footsteps were resolute and purposeful until I stood just inches away from the massive wooden desk. My eyes scanned the room, noticing the absence of any other demons. It was just him and me in this clandestine meeting.

"I'm going to sleep during the trial, right? So, what's the difference?" I retorted, my voice tinged with a hint of defiance. I leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing my arms over my chest. "Besides, I can't sleep," I added, my gaze fixed upon his stoic figure.

My father's gaze remained fixed on the paper, his expression betraying no hint of emotion. It was as though he possessed an uncanny ability to remain impassive in the face of any turmoil. He finally spoke, his voice devoid of any warmth or concern. "Then you should invite your women to warm your bed then," he remarked, his words carrying a biting edge.

"I have Ivy to warm my bed. As for the others, I want them to enjoy their vacation here," I nonchalantly replied, leaning against the edge of my father's desk. The air in the room felt heavy with tension, yet I maintained a cool and indifferent demeanor.

My dad, momentarily distracted from his papers, raised an eyebrow and peered at me. "Vacation?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued as he set the document aside and shifted his gaze to meet mine.

I offered him a dry smile, a hint of mischief dancing in my eyes. "Yeah, this place counts as overseas for them, right?" I remarked, my voice laced with irony.

His response was as impassive as ever. "Right," he simply acknowledged before returning his attention to the paper in his hand.

"So, I want to take my trial now," I asserted, pointing to the reason for my unexpected visit to my father's office.

He sighed wearily, glancing up from his desk to meet my gaze. "It can wait until after I finish my work," he said, waving his hand dismissively as if trying to shoo away my request.

With an exhale, I swiftly teleported to his side, leaning casually against the edge of his desk. "Oh, come on, Dad," I teased, my tone laced with annoyance. "That paper is upside down," I chided, pointing out the obvious. I had noticed it the moment I arrived, so I knew he was merely using it as an excuse to avoid the trial. It was clear that he was intentionally stalling.

He hastily flipped it right-side up, his face flushing with mild embarrassment. "It was just a small mistake," he muttered, attempting to defend himself. However, the subtle twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement at being caught in the act.

"I know you're not working," I stated, my voice tinged with skepticism as I gave my dad a dry smile. My eyes bore into him, assessing his every move, searching for any hint of deception.

He remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the paper before him, his expression unreadable.

"I don't know what you're keeping from me, but I'd rather know the truth than stay in the dark," I pressed, my voice filled with a mix of determination and concern. There was something hidden, something he was reluctant to reveal. After all, he had been concealing it for centuries.

"I know, I know," he muttered with a trace of annoyance and bitterness. He finally looked up, meeting my gaze with a mixture of resignation and regret. "It's just..." His voice trailed off, his words hanging in the air, burdened by the weight of secrets.

"Whether it's now or later, I will uncover the truth," I asserted, my tone firm and resolute. The memories that had been locked away were slowly resurfacing, filling the gaps and fragments of my past. I was beginning to piece together the puzzle, and my father's reticence only fueled my determination to unearth the complete picture. "You know that, don't you?" I added, my voice softer, tinged with a touch of sadness.

Another short silence hung in the air, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. He let out an exasperated grunt, his annoyance palpable as he forcefully placed the paper on his desk. With a heavy sigh, he rose from his seat, determination etched into his features.

"Ugh! Fine! Let's get this over with," he declared, his voice tinged with weariness and resolve. It was clear that the weight of the undisclosed truth burdened him, and he was ready to confront it head-on.

His hand extended towards the empty space, conjuring a swirling portal before us. Without hesitation, I stepped forward, my own curiosity and anticipation urging me to embark on this journey of revelation alongside my dad.

As we emerged from the portal, we found ourselves in Echoing Hall, a place where tormented souls were subjected to endless suffering. Their agonized cries and screams reverberated through the air, creating a haunting symphony that resonated with my devilish nature. It was a twisted melody that strangely soothed my demonic ears.

Navigating through the cacophony, we pressed forward, the ethereal echoes guiding our path. The tortured souls slumbered, their restless dreams manifesting as distorted visions of their torment.

Eventually, we reached the heart of the hall. The air grew heavier, charged with dark energy and palpable despair. The architecture itself seemed to contort as if mirroring the anguish embedded within these walls.

Nestled amidst the somber ambiance was a stone bed, its design reminiscent of an ancient altar. Its surface was smooth yet cold, with intricate carvings that seemed to tell a tale of suffering and sacrifice.

The bed exuded an aura of darkness, a miasma that swirled around it, almost as if it were a living entity. The shadows danced and writhed, creating an ethereal spectacle that both intrigued and unsettled. The essence of despair and anguish converged, manifesting as an invisible barrier, like a small dome, that encased the bed.

This dark barrier held an unmistakable purpose — to protect and contain the malevolent energy that permeated the stone bed. It served as a shield.

"Here's your bed," my dad said, his voice tinged with an unusual mix of solemnity and concern. He pointed towards the stone bed that stood before us, its presence commanding attention.

I couldn't help but scoff at his attempt to pass off this ominous structure as a place of comfort. "Looks comfortable," I muttered sarcastically, my gaze fixed upon the ancient altar-like bed.

My dad's response was a mere whisper, his voice filled with unspoken sorrow. "Yeah..." he trailed off, his gaze distant. Without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed my face, the sudden contact catching me off guard. At that moment, time seemed to freeze as a surge of energy coursed through me, my mind becoming a whirlwind of confusion and disorientation.

Before I could react, my body was engulfed by an unseen force, drawing me toward the cold, unforgiving surface of the stone altar. My consciousness wavered, teetering on the edge of oblivion, as I succumbed to the overwhelming pull of the dark energy. As the world blurred around me, my dad's words echoed in my mind.

"Promise me you have to wake up," he pleaded, his voice filled with an urgency that pierced through the haze of my fading awareness. I caught a glimpse of sadness in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability that I had rarely witnessed. It was a moment of raw emotion, an unspoken plea for my survival.

And then, in an instant, my consciousness slipped away.

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