Now that they had seen the djinn for themselves, they are determined. They would defeat it to avenge their fallen friend an claim the gold as they initially planned for.
They began to move forward but then the wyvern roared.
Azhdar stepped back. Its enormous clawed feet scraped the stone floor as it retreated a full pace, its wings folding tight against its body, its burning eyes wide.
Kaiser froze. His spirit—Azhdar, the creature that had torn through spriggans like dry twigs, the being that answered only to him—was backing away. As if acknowledging something greater.
"What's wrong, Azhdar?" Kaiser asked, his voice low and steady.
A pause. Then, "That being and I are created of the same shadows and smoke," Azhdar said with its ancient and rumbling voice "But it is far greater than me."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
Kaiser looked at the djinn with new eyes. The others heard the wyvern's message—passed between them in frozen glances and pale faces.
Now how are they supposed to win?
Before anyone could speak—before anyone could even think—the djinn moved.
One moment it stood at the far end of the chamber, the next, it was there. Right in front of them. So close they could feel the cold radiating from its form, could smell ancient dust.
It had happened in the blink of an eye. No. Faster than that.
The djinn then spoke. Its voice was not loud, yet it filled the entire chamber, echoed off every wall, seeped into their bones.
"So… you have made it this far." The white eyes swept across each of them, one by one. "So tell me… now what will you do?"
Kaiser's hands curled into fists. The memory of Ayumu—her smile, her sacrifice, the way the light had left her eyes—surged through him like fire. His red eyes blazed.
"We will defeat you," he said, each word sharp as broken glass. "As revenge for our fallen friend. Then we shall claim all the gold here."
Behind him, the others eeked—small, involuntary sounds of terror. Drobar's mouth fell open. Fifi covered his face with both hands. Even Osmond, steady and silent, shifted his weight uneasily.
Kaiser! They wanted to scream. What are you doing?
They could feel the djinn's power pressing against them like deep water. This was not a creature they could wound with swords or fire. This was something ancient. Something eternal. And Kaiser was threatening it.
But Kaiser did not waver. He stood there, staring into those white eyes, rage and grief tangled in his chest.
The djinn stared back.
Then it laughed.
"HAHAHAHA!"
The sound was enormous. Deep and rumbling and almost joyful. The whole chamber shook with it. Gold mountains shifted and cascaded, coins raining down like glittering waterfalls. The very stones vibrated.
The others dropped into defensive positions. But the djinn did not attack.
Instead, it threw its shadowy arms wide and said, "I lost the game. And now I lost the bet." It shook its head—a strangely human gesture. "Never in my eternal life would I thought I would be outsmarted by a white magis."
A sharp intake of breath from the group.
White magis.
The words twitched through them like a physical shock. They looked at each other, confused, unsettled. How does this being know about a White Magis?
Then the djinn smiled—or at least, the shadows of its face shifted into something that resembled a smile. It turned its head slightly and spoke louder, as if addressing someone.
"I have lost, Ayumu. You can come out now."
"Ayumu?!"
The name burst from the group in a chorus of shock and their entire body went rigid.
How did the djinn know the name of their dead friend?
Then—movement can be seen from one of the mountain of gold nearby.
Two hands emerged as they pushed aside a cascade of coins. Then a head popped out—messy white hair, bright golden eyes, a soft grin.
"I WIN!"
It was Ayumu. She was alive.
She scrambled out of the gold pile, giggling with pure, unfiltered delight, coins tumbling from her clothes and hair. "And you were so close to find me, Great Djinn!" She brushed herself off, still laughing—then looked up.
And finally saw her friends.
The smile on Ayumu's face grew brighter and she glowed slightly. She ran over to them so excitedly. Tumbling slightly on her way.
"Everyone made it! I knew it, I trusted you all would! Isn't this place amazing? Look at the MOUNTAINS of gold. I was waiting for you all and did you know-"
As she continued rambling continuously, the other did not even move. No one breathed even.
All this while, they had thought she was dead. They had carried her memory like a wound. They had fought for her. And now she stood before them, covered in gold dust, grinning like a child who had won a game.
Before Ayumu could finish talking—Rhea's hand shot out.
She pinched Ayumu's right cheek. Hard.
"Ah—ow ow ow! That hurts, Rhea! It hurts!"
"I thought you were dead!" Rhea shouted, her voice cracking. Ayumu flinched as if struck by lightning.
Then she saw it. Rhea's eyes were overflowing with tears. Ayumu's own eyes went wide.
Then Rhea used her other hand to grab a fistful of Ayumu's long white hair. Not hard enough to hurt badly—but enough to tilt Ayumu's head to the left, to make her wince. And Rhea said again, her voice smaller now, breaking apart like dry leaves:
"I thought… you were dead…"
Ayumu was flustered. And in pain. And completely, utterly unprepared for this.
"I'm sorry, Rhea," she stammered. "Don't cry. Please… um… I don't die easily."
Drobar stepped forward, his heavy boots crunching on scattered gold. He reached out, intending to urge Rhea to let go—but before he could speak, Rhea released Ayumu on her own.
And then she just hugged her.
Tightly. Desperately. Sobbing into Ayumu's shoulder with no attempt to hide it.
Ayumu stood frozen, arms hovering awkwardly in the air. She had no idea what to do. She had never been good at this—at feelings, at tears, at the messy weight of being loved. But when she looked past Rhea's shaking shoulders and saw the others…
They had similar faces.
Drobar's jaw was tight, his eyes suspiciously bright. Fifi's wings drooped, his small hands pressed over his mouth. Levain looked like he'd seen a ghost—which, in a way, he had. Osmond stood perfectly still, but his sword hand trembled just slightly. And Kaiser…
Kaiser looked like a man who had forgotten how to breathe.
They were surprised. Shocked. Shaken. Someone they had mourned—someone they had buried in their hearts—was alive.
The djinn, who had been watching all of this with quiet amusement, suddenly disappeared.
No sound. No flash. No warning.
One moment he stood among them. The next—Ayumu vanished. Rhea vanished.
Before anyone reliazed what had happened, the djinn spoke.
From above.
They all looked up. The djinn now sat upon a throne that had not been there moments before—a massive seat carved from obsidian and gold, rising from the treasure like a dark flower blooming. He lounged casually, one leg crossed over the other.
And on his lap, he held both women.
Ayumu sat comfortably on one side, looking perfectly at ease. Rhea sat on the other, stiff as a board, her tear-streaked face frozen in confusion.
The djinn grinned—a wide, shadowy smile.
"It's been a while since I have had the company of two women by my side," he said, his voice rich with amusement.
Rhea stopped crying immediately, trying to process what was happening. Ayumu, meanwhile, simply crossed her legs and settled in as if she'd been sitting on ancient shadow-beings her entire life.
The men watching this were not calm.
Drobar's face turned red. He stepped forward, fist clenched, and shouted: "Let them go, you despicable being!"
Ayumu's head snapped toward him. Her eyes narrowed.
"Sir Drobar," she said in a soft but stern voice, "you are being rude to the Great Djinn. He has not done a single thing to harm me while I was here."
Drobar was taken aback. He had expected fear, gratitude, something—not a lecture on manners.
Then Kaiser stepped forward.
His red eyes were burning—not with the glow of magic, but with barely contained fury. His voice came out low and dangerous.
"How can you say that, Lady Ayumu? The lightning bolt that caused you to fall from the cliff—it's obvious he is responsible for it! It's only by chance you happened to survive."
The chamber fell silent.
Then another voice spoke from above—bright, sharp, and thoroughly unimpressed.
"Not only that. She made a bet with the djinn."
Everyone looked up.
Vesta.
The phoenix was the size of a hawk, her feathers glowing like molten gold. It flew in a lazy circle above their heads.
The djinn tsked—a sound of mild annoyance, as if a secret had been spoiled by the annoying pheonix.
Vesta landed atop Azhdar's head.
The wyvern's eyes rolled upward in annoyance, but Vesta paid him no mind.
"I never thought I would ever say this," Vesta continued, preening one glowing feather, "but I am glad to see you, lizard."
Azhdar growled—a low, rumbling sound of pure irritation. His massive clawed hand swatted at his own head. Vesta darted away just in time, the wind of the missed strike ruffling its feathers. It flew over and perched on a small pile of gold beside Kaiser.
Kaiser turned to Vesta, his red eyes blazing. His voice was quiet.
"…What bet was it, Mighty Vesta?"
Vesta pointed one glowing wing at the group.
"She made a bet that if all of you made it here, then you all will be awarded."
Kaiser's fist tightened at his side. The knuckles went white.
"If not?"
Vesta tilted its head.
"If you all didn't… then she will stay here for eternity and be married to the djinn."
Silence. Devastating silence.
Then—
"WHAT?!"