Chapter 113 – The Steel of Wrath and the Scales of Greed.

Night in the kitchen of the Lower Cauldrons Estate passed under the gentle glow of a pine-oil lamp.

On the polished wooden table, Diana placed two earthenware mugs of steaming barley tea. She sat in the high-backed chair wearing her dark linen shirt, the two obsidian horns and the amethyst circlet resting upon her brow.

Zarek sat on the other side of the table. His four secondary chitinous hands were folded close against his ribs, while his two primary hands held the warm mug with long, gray fingers.

Diana rested her elbows on the wood, looking directly into the six eyes of the arachnid demon.

“We are going to keep hunting together in the Level 50 rifts,” Diana began, her voice carrying a calculating calm. “But for me to coordinate my spellfire with your blades without risking friendly fire, I need absolute precision. I want you to explain the exact mechanics of your skills as a Candidate for the Sin of Wrath.”

Zarek blew on the steam from his tea, flashing a relaxed smile of sharp teeth.

“A fair trade of military intelligence?” he asked. “What do I get in exchange for giving up the secrets of the Seventh Circle?”

“A full breakdown of how the Sin of Greed operates,” Diana replied without blinking. “Information for information.”

Zarek let out a low chuckle, leaning back against the wooden chair.

“Deal accepted, Commander.”

***

Zarek set his mug on the table and began explaining with the clarity of someone who had mastered his craft for years:

“Most people in Hell think Wrath is just losing your temper, screaming, and blindly slashing at everything like a drunken ogre.” Zarek gestured with two of his chitinous hands. “But the true essence of Wrath isn't a lack of control. It is Continuous Kinetic Escalation.”

He pointed toward his moon blades propped against the corner wall:

“My first Sin trait is [Ascendant Fury]. The longer I remain in close-quarters combat landing continuous slashes, the faster my arms move. With every critical hit, I accumulate Fury Stacks. At ten active stacks, my attack speed doubles and my blades ignore fifty percent of the monster's physical armor.”

“And your silk web?” Diana asked, logging the data mentally with her 201 Intelligence.

“The [Steel Silk of the Bloody Web] is the fusion of my arachnid biology with Wrath mana,” Zarek explained. “The threads released from my secondary arms conduct physical shockwaves. I can use the cables to pin the legs of a heavy monster, like I did with the Basilisk, or haul my own body through the air in any direction without relying on solid ground.”

Zarek leaned forward, his gaze turning more serious:

“My defensive trait is [Death Denial]. When my health bar drops below twenty percent, my biological pain receptors shut down entirely. My Strength jumps by forty percent and I become immune to any stun spells for three minutes.”

“What is the downside?” Diana probed straight for the vulnerability.

Zarek breathed a short sigh through his nose.

“Muscular Burnout,” he admitted. “If a battle drags on past fifteen minutes at maximum intensity and I can't kill the target to discharge the accumulated fury, my blood boils from within. Wrath mana drains all my stamina in one go, leaving me utterly exhausted and vulnerable for the next ten minutes.”

***

Diana committed every detail to memory.

Zarek was a machine of physical damage and territorial control in short and medium range, but he depended on rapid victories. If they faced a boss with colossal health in a slow war of attrition, his stamina would eventually collapse.

It was her turn to keep her word.

Diana took a sip of hot tea and began outlining the mechanics of her soul:

“Greed operates under the law of Absolute Ownership and Extraction,” Diana said in a calm tone. “My soul does not seek destruction like yours. It seeks control of resources.”

She detailed the pillars of her legacy:

“First: [Absolute Hunger]. It forces reality to yield twenty percent more experience and thirty percent more loot from any creature felled under my command. And when I slay another Candidate for a Sin, or when an enemy surrenders in absolute terror, my soul permanently extracts attribute points from the target's existence.”

Zarek widened all six eyes, flabbergasted. “You... permanently steal attributes from the defeated?!”

“Yes,” Diana continued without leaving room for interruptions. “Second: the [Possessor's Aura]. Because my soul perceives the members of my faction as my most prized possessions, my presence accelerates their learning speed and growth by thirty percent. What belongs to me cannot be weak.”

She gestured to the Crown of Sovereignty on her brow:

“Third: [Greed Command]. The quantity of gold coins I store in the faction vault converts directly into military might. When I activate the skill, my entire squad receives a temporary twenty-percent buff to all attributes based on our accumulated wealth.”

“And finally: [Servitude Resistance]. My mind possesses absolute immunity to any mind-control spells, charms, or coerced pacts.”

***

Zarek remained in absolute silence for several long moments, staring at Diana across the table with a fascination bordering on awe.

The six-armed demon let out a low laugh, shaking his head:

“By the gods of the abyss...” Zarek murmured, propping his chin in his hands. “You don't fight for honor, and you don't fight for blind rage. You fight like someone collecting a debt with compound interest and turning hoarded gold into shock value.”

He puffed out his chest with a broad grin of sharp teeth:

“My Wrath breaks the front line before the monsters can even draw breath, and your Greed drains their mana, freezes their cores, and hauls in double the treasure. We have an absolute masterclass in tactical synergy, Diana.”

Diana pushed her empty mug to the center of the table, rising from her chair and smoothing down her linen shirt with a neutral look:

“We have an efficient combat synergy, Zarek. Nothing more.”

Zarek laughed, getting up right after with the agility of a spider and retrieving his lunar swords from the corner:

“Call it whatever you want, Commander. What matters is that tomorrow, the Level 50 rifts are going to bleed.”

Diana extinguished the kitchen's pine-oil lamp, letting the quiet of the night settle over the house.