Chapter 79: The Child of Prophecy
Seraphel
Where my story ends?
If this Mirevale woman had told me this weeks ago—back when I was so desperately trying to claw my way out of this transmigrated nightmare, I would have accepted it without a second thought. I would have welcomed the sweet relief of non-existence.
But something had changed inside me.
It wasn’t just because I had grown addicted to Azriel’s shameless, sinful touch—even though that was undeniably the best part of being bound to him. It was something far deeper.
For reasons I couldn’t fully comprehend, I felt a strange, aching sympathy for the Prince of Lust. I found myself wondering what would happen to him if I suddenly vanished from his life.
My subconscious didn’t scream at me for thinking like this. Somewhere in the quietest corners of my mind, it felt the exact same way.
Maybe it was a lingering attraction to him, or the arrogant yet protective way he carried himself, or simply him as a person.
Whatever it was, I didn’t want to leave this world anymore. Not until I gave birth to our baby.
"What do you have to say for yourself before you die?" Mirevale’s mocking voice snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. "I adore hearing my victims weep as they realize their end is near. So go on... cry for me. What last words do you want to whisper to your killer?"
I glared up at her, ignoring the burning agony in my lungs as I dug my short nails deeper into her leather gloves.
My life cannot end here, I repeated like a silent battle cry in my mind. My life should not end in a dark, forgotten void because I do not deserve this—and the fragile life forming inside me doesn’t deserve it either.
"At least..." I forced the words past my bruised throat, groaning as I tightened my grip on her wrists. "At least let me know... who is killing me... and why."
Mirevale’s void-like eyes darkened to a terrifying pitch. The crushing pressure around my windpipe suddenly eased as she let go, allowing me to slump onto my knees, gasping for air.
She let out a light, melodious chuckle.
"Out of all the mortal insects I have crushed, you are the very first to ask me why you must die," she mused, her eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Since you are so wonderfully unique, I will grant you the privilege of knowing the truth."
She waved her hand in a smooth, sweeping arc.
The stark black-and-white rocks of the cliff melted away, plunging us into absolute darkness.
For a terrifying second, there was nothing. Then, a soft, ethereal glow flickered in the dark, coalescing into a floating, water-like mirror—a spatial projection reflecting images from another time.
In the shimmering surface, I saw Azriel first. He was standing amidst a blazing inferno, raining destructive crimson fire down upon a massive, towering citadel. Surrounding him were six other figures—men radiating terrifying, godlike pressure—whom I immediately recognized as the Seven Deadly Sins.
The image shifted rapidly, swirling into a new vision.
My heart nearly leaped into my throat.
It was me.
I was standing atop a mountain of crystalized ash, my hands wrapped in a brilliant, blinding blue light that pulsed like a dying star.
What the hell? I thought, my breath catching in my chest. There was no way I could ever wield power like that. I was just a powerless vessel! Yet no matter how hard I squinted at the floating mirror, the person on the screen was undeniably me—and my stomach was completely flat. I was no longer carrying a child.
"What is this?" I demanded, unable to endure the suffocating suspense a second longer. "What am I looking at?!"
"That is the future of Elysium if you are allowed to give birth to that creature," Mirevale hissed, pointing a dark, clawed finger straight at my stomach. "You will bring absolute doom to our sacred realm. That child will burn Elysium to the ground, which is precisely why it can never be permitted to draw its first breath."
My hands instinctively covered my lower stomach, rubbing the faint warmth there as her words echoed painfully in my ears.
"Elysium?" I whispered, my brows pulling together. "Isn’t that the holy realm of the gods and goddesses? How could an unborn child ever pose a threat to a realm of deities?"
To me, Elysium was the web novel equivalent of heaven. How could a paradise like that fall to a single infant?
"There is no way that’s true," I muttered, shaking my head violently. "I would never let my child—"
"I am not talking about you, fragile mortal!" Mirevale cut me off, her tone dripping with toxic condescension. "You are merely the soil! It is the child you carry! It is the Child of Prophecy—destined to break the ancient curse binding the Seven Deadly Sins, born with a cosmic strength capable of tearing down the universe! A child with such a catastrophic destiny is an existential threat to Elysium!"
I stared at her in stunned silence, desperately trying to process the heavy, absurd words spilling from her lips.
"So... you would slaughter an innocent child?" I yelled, running a hand through my messy hair as anger flared in my chest. "How is Elysium so cruel?! You deities are supposed to be the guardians of the world! You are supposed to protect mortals, not slaughter them out of paranoia! You are the Goddess of Life and Death—isn’t executing an unborn child against your sacred duties?!"
"THAT CHILD IS THE SEED OF SIN!" Mirevale shrieked.
Her voice vibrated with a suffocating, divine weight that sent a wave of pure ice shooting down my spine.
The dark projection shattered into a thousand glittering specks. In an instant, the black background vanished, throwing us right back to the edge of the color-drained cliff.
"Nothing born of the Sins is permitted to exist!" Mirevale snarled, her dark eyes glowing with fanatical fury. "The Sins themselves cannot be permanently slain—their souls merely reincarnate back into the world. Therefore, we must eradicate anything capable of breaking their curse! You were simply unfortunate enough to be chosen as the vessel to bear their child! Curse your own tragic fate, mortal, not Elysium!"
Is this woman out of her mind?! I thought, my blood boiling. The hypocrisy spewing from her mouth was sickening! There was no universe, no story, no logic where killing an unborn baby was justified!
"You are going to murder a child!" I screamed back at her, refusing to back down. "That makes you far worse than any Sin! You are committing the ultimate atrocity, and you’re too blinded by your own arrogance to see how grotesque you are!"