My Lust System: I Inherited The Sin Of Lust And His Three Wives-Chapter 129: Making A Deal With The Duke

Hearing Duke Haborym’s explanation, Damian halted abruptly. His stance broke, his body straightening as genuine shock spread across his face. The raging white flames engulfing his hands flickered, then began to dwindle as his mind processed the Duke’s words.

For a brief moment, he said nothing.

Then his expression changed.

Instantly, Damian’s visage turned murderous. His eyes locked onto Corbin with a chilling intensity, killing intent surging beneath his gaze. If the cathedral merely suppressed his power, it was something he could endure. He could force it out, tear through it with enough effort. But this... this was different.

His power was being stole and fed into someone else.

His already slim chances of survival, which he had been calculating and recalculating in the back of his mind, plummeted instantly. Fifty percent became ten.

"Bastard..." Damian’s voice came out low, venomous.

Corbin stiffened, visibly taken aback. He had not expected Duke Haborym to see through his plan so quickly, let alone expose it so bluntly.

Duke Haborym let out a low, amused chuckle, his three faces twisting into a knowing expression. "I am a demon who has existed since the time of the first generation of the Seven Deadly Sins. I have fought countless battles and carved my place as a Duke of Hell through blood and fire. Did you truly believe there exists a divine art I do not understand?"

His six eyes shifted, settling on Damian.

"This," he continued, his tone turning colder, heavier, "is what happens when you place your trust in angels. They preach holiness, yet stab you in the back the moment it benefits them. They are no different from demons. The only difference is that they pretend to be saints while committing even greater atrocities behind closed doors."

Damian’s brows furrowed, his gaze sharpening as he listened.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice steady, though his guard remained fully raised.

Duke Haborym smiled.

It was not a warm smile. It was the kind that carried weight, calculation, and quiet confidence.

"I am not asking you to aid me," he said calmly. "I do not require your help to kill them."

His six arms flexed slightly, his presence pressing outward even within the cathedral’s suppressive field.

"I am merely asking you... to stay out of this fight."

His smile deepened.

"No matter who emerges victorious between us, the other will be left weakened. By then, you will have recovered enough of your strength to finish what remains."

Corbin and Gilbert paled almost instantly, their expressions tightening as the weight of the Duke’s words settled in. Before either of them could speak, before they could attempt to refute or persuade him otherwise Damian moved.

He turned without urgency or hesitation, he walked past them both, his footsteps echoing softly against the fractured ground as he made his way toward the far edge of the Cathedral of Absolution.

Then he stopped.

Lowering himself, he sat down cross-legged, his posture relaxed, almost indifferent. Yet his eyes remained fixed on Duke Haborym, sharp and calculating.

"Just so we’re clear," Damian said slowly, his tone carrying a quiet edge, "I don’t trust the church and I definitely don’t trust demons."

He tilted his head slightly, studying the Duke.

"But since your request is simply for me to stay out of the fight then I’ll adjust the terms."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I’ll give you five minutes."

The air seemed to still.

"If you can’t get rid of them in that time then that’s your problem."

Gilbert’s expression darkened immediately. "Scoundrel!" he spat, his voice laced with fury.

Corbin stepped forward, his grip tightening around his weapon. "You don’t have to take it this far over a misunderstanding..."

Damian ignored them completely. His attention never left Duke Haborym.

The Duke frowned slightly, a rare flicker of hesitation crossing his features as he considered the proposal. The silence stretched for a brief moment before his expression smoothed out once more.

Then, slowly he nodded.

"Very well...."

The moment the Duke nodded, he vanished.

There was no flare of fire, no distortion of space, no warning of any kind. One moment he stood across the battlefield, the next he was already in front of Corbin.

His six arms moved as one.

Each fist surged forward, engulfed in roaring hellfire, the sheer speed of the strike tearing the air apart as it descended toward Corbin with killing intent. There was no restraint, no hesitation. Duke Haborym knew exactly how little time he had.

But just as the attack was about to land...

Boom!

Gilbert was already there.

The massive archangel stepped in, his body planted firmly between the Duke and Corbin as his shield rose with divine authority. Golden light erupted outward, forming a radiant barrier that met the incoming strike head-on.

The impact shook the entire cathedral.

A violent shockwave burst outward as hellfire and divine energy collided, the ground beneath Gilbert’s feet cracking and sinking under the force. But this time, he was ready.

With a proper stance Gilbert barely held on.

His wings flared outward slightly, anchoring his balance as the shield absorbed the brunt of the blow. The golden light trembled violently, but it did not break.

Behind him, Corbin did not hesitate. The moment the block was secured, he moved. His body shot backward, boots skidding across the fractured ground as he created distance. In the same motion, his arm snapped forward.

Crack!

The golden whip lashed out like a living serpent, its length slicing through the air as it curled and twisted with deadly precision. Divine energy crackled along its surface, sparking violently as it tore toward Duke Haborym’s exposed side.

But the Duke did not retreat. Not even a step!

Instead, his remaining arms surged forward again. More fists and hellfire.

The whip struck first.

Slash!

One of the Duke’s arms was severed cleanly, the glowing lash cutting through flesh and bone like a blade through water. The limb spun through the air, blood spraying outward as it crashed onto the ground below.

Yet it changed nothing.

The remaining fists did not falter. They came down with even greater force!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three hellfire-wreathed punches slammed into Gilbert’s shield in rapid succession, each impact heavier than the last. The golden barrier buckled under the overwhelming force, cracks of light splintering across its surface as the pressure surged beyond what it could withstand.

"Ghh...!"

Gilbert’s body was forced backward and then...

BOOOOM!!!

The final strike broke through his guard, the accumulated force detonating against the shield and sending the archangel flying. His massive frame was hurled across the cathedral like a projectile, divine light scattering in his wake as he tore through the air!