Everyone except Kaiser shouted at once. Drobar's voice boomed.
Ayumu jerked at the loud sound. She looked warily at Rhea beside her.
Rhea's face had gone very, very still.
Then she exploded.
"Are you MAD, Ayumu?! How could you bet your life like that?! And to such a being—" She pointed accusingly at the djinn, who merely raised his shadowy eyebrows.
"R-Rhea, you are being rude to the Mighty Djinn—"
"WHO CARES!" Rhea shrieked, then she reached out and grabbed Ayumu's long white hair—both sides this time—and pulled. "Ayumu, how could you do that?! What if we didn't come?! What if we had turned back?! What if—"
She didn't finish.
Ayumu yelped, flailing. "But—BUT! You all managed to come! I had my faith in all of you… so it's all well… owww Rhea, it hurts! Let go, please!"
The djinn watched this entire scene with the expression of a man enjoying a particularly fine performance.
The djinn chuckled—a low, rumbling sound like distant thunder. He reached down with both shadowy hands, grabbed both women by their waists, and pulled them apart, adjusting them on his lap like a man settling cushions. One on each knee.
He leaned back on his throne, grinning.
"Now," he said in his ancient voice, smooth as polished stone, "what is so bad about staying here and being married to me?"
Rhea's face twisted with indignation. She glared.
"Everything!" she spat. "My innocent Ayumu shall not be married to the likes of you, Djinn!"
Ayumu's eyes went wide. "R-Rhea…" she said worriedly, her voice small. Rhea was being rude to a being of unimaginable power. On his own throne. While sitting on his lap.
The djinn did not seem offended. If anything, his grin widened.
"I like feisty women too," he said, his white eyes flickering with something like delight. "You shall be my second bride, then."
Rhea's mouth gaped open. Her face went through several expressions in quick succession—shock, horror, outrage!
"NO way!" she shouted.
While the women were arguing above, the conversation below took a different turn.
Azhdar the wyvern, still standing like a mountain of shadow and smoke, tilted his massive head toward the small glowing phoenix perched nearby. His voice rumbled, "If your master, Ayumu, marries the Djinn," Azhdar said to Vesta, his tone dripping with smugness, "then you will be the djinn's pet, Vesta."
He snickered.
Vesta's feathers flared. Its glow intensified to a near-blinding white. It shrieked, "Silence, you lizard!"
Azhdar's snickering only grew louder.
Meanwhile, the men stood frozen at the edge of the treasure hoard, completely clueless.
Drobar looked from the djinn's throne to Kaiser to the arguing women and back again. His hand hovered over his sword hilt, but he had no idea who to strike—or if he should strike at all. Levain simply stared upward, mouth slightly open. Fifi was hiding behind Osmond for safety.
But Kaiser? Kaiser remained unmoved.
His face was stone. His posture was rigid. His red eyes were fixed on the djinn—fixed on Ayumu sitting so casually on that shadowy lap—and nothing in his expression shifted.
But inside him, something was brewing.
Not the cold rage he had carried into battle. Not the burning fury he had felt when he thought Ayumu was dead.
This was quieter. Like a slow, seething volcano building pressure beneath an unbroken surface.
And somewhere in the darkest part of his chest, a voice whispered:
Ayumu? Marry you? Say that again. I dare you, Djinn.
Ayumu, noticing the reactions of her friends were unfavourable towards the djinn, had to step in and calm everyone down. She raised both hands and spoke with the kind of gentle authority that had always come naturally to her.
"Well, since you all made it here, that means I have won the bet." She turned to the djinn, her white hair still mussed, her cheeks still flushed from Rhea's pinching, but her voice steady. "And I hope you are able to stay true to your words, Great Djinn."
The djinn's face crumpled. For just a moment, he looked like a man who had swallowed something sour.
But djinns are bound to promises. It is an ancient law for the djinn and he could not refuse.
So he spoke, his ancient voice carrying a note of reluctant admiration.
"As promised, I am to grant you all a wish. You may wish for whatever it is you may desire."
Silence fell over the group.
Then Fifi gathered his courage. From behind Osmond he shouted and pointed at the djinn:
"Wishes don't come free! I don't trust you."
He then whispered urgently to the rest of his companions, "I don't trust that thing. Be careful. It is the same being that had this place destroyed in the first place, right?"
The others exchanged glances.
This was the creature that had laid waste to the Paititi kingdom. And now he sat on a throne of gold, offering wishes with a smile.
Rhea, still seated on the djinn's lap—still flustered but refusing to show it—looked up at him. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Then she asked: "What if I ask for all the jewels in this place?"
"RHEA!"
The other men shouted in unison. As usual, Drobar's voice boomed loudest.
They had just said not to trust the djinn. They had just warned each other to be careful. And Rhea had made a wish without thinking twice—without consulting any of them.
But Rhea's intention was not greed. She was simply trying her luck. Testing the waters. Seeing if the djinn's smile would crack under the weight of a real demand.
The djinn's smile did not crack.
Instead, it deepened. He reached beside him—slowly, and picked up one of the crowns adorned with diamonds that lay scattered among the treasure. It was an ancient thing: platinum banded with silver, encrusted with stones the size of a child's fist. He placed it gently on Rhea's head.
The jewels caught the torchlight and sang—flashing rainbows across the chamber walls.
"It is all yours," the djinn said softly. "For a wish that small, made by a person of pure heart as you—one who has suffered—the payment I ask for is a smile."
Rhea's eyes widened.
Suffered.
The word struck her like a physical blow. How did the djinn know? Did it have power to look into a person's memories? To peel back the layers of a soul and see the wounds beneath?
The crown sat heavy on her head. Jewels for a smile. Such a simple trade.
The djinn waited.
And Rhea, for the first time in a long while… smiled.
Not a forced expression. A natural smile. Sincere and sweet.
It was the first time—other than Ayumu—that someone had praised her for her heart and not just her looks. The first time anyone had looked past her face and body to see something deeper.
Something stirred inside her. A warmth she did not expect. A crack in a wall she had built long ago.
She now acknowledged: the djinn was powerful. Powerful enough to see her secrets.
The djinn, looking at that smile, smirked. His shadowy hand rose and caressed her cheek—cold, yet not unkind. Like touching moonlight.
Ayumu, watching this, smiled warmly as well. Her heart swelled. She was glad that people were beginning to see the djinn not as a cruel, wicked being, but as a creation of a supreme being. One with a different purpose than humans.
Not evil. Just other.
The men watched with mixed feelings.
All except Kaiser.
Kaiser had not moved since they entered the chamber. He stood apart from the group—still as carved stone. His red eyes fixed on the djinn with an intensity that could cut glass.
Levain approached him carefully, lowering his voice.
"Lord Kaiser… what is it that you wish for?"
Kaiser was silent for a long moment. Then he spoke—softly, so that the djinn supposedly could not hear.
"Let me do my wish first. Then you all can." His eyes never left the djinn's white gaze. "We will see if this djinn is genuine… or just has a soft spot for women."
Drobar nodded, a lopsided grin cutting through the tension. "Perfect idea," he said, clapping a heavy hand on Levain's shoulder. "If anything happens to Kaiser, we run first."
He was joking. Most probably...
Kaiser didn't even glance back. He simply walked forward with his boots echoing on the stone. His red eyes locked on the djinn like a wolf approaching a bonfire.
The djinn shifted its gaze towards Kaiser's. Watching his every movement. The djinn could sense it—radiating off this man like heat from a forge. Out of all the others in the chamber, this one held more power. And more selfishness.
It was simply what he was.
Kaiser stopped a few paces from the throne, and spoke.
"Then I shall take up the offer of the wish, O Djinn."
The djinn tilted its head. The shadows of its face rearranged into something unreadable.
"And what is it you want… Black Magis… of the Wrath Descendant?"
Kaiser's eyes flickered.
How did it know?
He had never spoken his full lineage here. Never revealed the old blood that ran through his veins—the wrath of a cursed line. But the djinn had seen it.
This djinn's powers are truly unmatched, Kaiser thought. But he did not waver.
He raised his chin.
"I wish for a follower. A being—other than my spirit—that can follow me and do my bidding." His voice was steady, each word chosen with care. "It is to be a part of me, loyal to me alone and will not cause me any harm."
The djinn's white eyes narrowed. Then its lips curved—slowly, deliberately.
"That," it said, "is a big wish."
Kaiser met its gaze without flinching. "I truly wish to see your capabilities… O Great Djinn."
It was more a challenge than an acknowledgement. A gauntlet thrown at the feet of an ancient being.
The djinn felt the slight irritation—a prickle across its shadowy skin. No one had spoken to it like this in centuries. No one had dared.
The djinn picked up the two women—one under each arm, as easily as lifting kittens—and deposited them side by side on the throne. They landed with twin gasps, Rhea clutching her crown, Ayumu smoothing her hair.
Then the djinn disappeared.
And reappeared in a flash—right in front of Kaiser. So close that Kaiser could feel the cold radiating from its form, could smell ancient dust and the absence of breath.
"Your wish," the djinn whispered, "I shall grant it. But I need a 'part' of you...as you said..."
Kaiser was confused. But before Kaiser could ask what that meant—
The djinn's hand stabbed into Kaiser's upper stomach.
Kaiser's eyes went wide. A strangled sound escaped his throat—half gasp, half groan. He had not expected this. Not cold fingers pushing through his flesh like water.
But as the Djinn is pushing, there was no blood. No wound. No tear in his clothing. The djinn's hand had simply entered him, as if his body were a curtain of smoke.
Everyone else gasped. Drobar lunged forward. Fifi shrieked. Rhea shot to her feet on the throne. But none of them could move. Some invisible force held them in place—watching, helpless.
The djinn rummaged inside Kaiser's body. Its fingers searched—through muscle, through sinew, through the warm dark places where souls keep their secrets. Kaiser groaned, his hands clutching at the djinn's arm, his knees buckling.
"Stop—" he hissed, but the djinn did not stop.
It searched for a long while. Kaiser's face turned pale. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His grip weakened.
Then—the djinn's hand withdrew.
And Kaiser screamed.
It was not a warrior's cry. Not a shout of anger. It was a raw, animal sound of pure agony—ripped from the deepest part of him. He dropped to the floor, convulsing, his body curling around the empty space where something vital had been.
In the djinn's hand: one of Kaiser's ribcage bones.
It gleamed white in the torchlight. Perfectly clean. No blood. No flesh. Just bone—pale as milk, smooth as polished ivory, still faintly warm.
The djinn held it up, examining it like a jeweler admiring a gem.
"A part of you," it murmured. "For the follower you desire."
Kaiser lay on the cold stone floor, gasping, his chest heaving. His hand pressed against his stomach—no wound, no blood, but the absence of that bone echoed through him like a missing tooth.
The others stared in horror.
Drobar's joke about running no longer seemed funny.