The One and Only Sami Chapter 22

Razard let go of Sami, his hands withdrawing slowly as if he had been handling a fruit that might easily bruise. He didn’t take his eyes off the face still slick with his fluids; he simply reached a hand back over his shoulder.

The moment he habitually stroked the band of his ring with his thumb.

“…!”

In the silent room, where the great moon should have been the only witness to their pact, Razard’s shadow—so faint in the dim light that its presence went unnoticed—began to flicker and sway in a bizarre, eerie rhythm.

“What is it?”

There wasn’t a hint of agitation on his face. Instead, a cold sense of boredom dwelled in his eyes.

“Did you think that because the lamps in the room went out, you could cross the boundary?”

Razard chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. To an oblivious onlooker, it would have looked like a mad, handsome man cradling an unconscious boy while muttering nonsensical monologues to himself.

With one hand still raised over his shoulder, he added a word.

“Mages. This is why you keep dying at my hands.”

The curve of his lips was soft and bright, a look that didn’t match the words of death he was pronouncing at all.

Suddenly, a hand that looked as though it were made of sticky tar thrust out from the violently vibrating shadow. A hand gripping a scimitar curved like a crescent moon trembled as it brought the hooked blade toward Razard’s throat.

“…Ra, zard…! I will sink the Queen Serpent’s fangs into your eyes and cast you into the fires of Jahannam. I swear it…!”

“Poison and fire, is it…?”

Ha. Razard let out a dry, airy laugh, completely unbothered by the blade touching his neck. It was the same reaction he’d had to Bisan’s curses and insults. Pure, unadulterated ridicule.

“Arrogant as I may be, I could never match the likes of you.”

Even now, the man was all talk, despite being blocked by the light of the ring and barely managing to hook a blade near him.

Razard didn’t spare a glance for the mage’s black arm shouting behind him; instead, he peeked out the window. The sky, having passed midnight and reached the dawn, was blooming with pale light at the edge of the desert beyond the fortress walls.

Well, this was a problem. Diligent servants were bound to be busy from the break of dawn. Since he had promised to return Sami “safely,” it was time to start getting ready.

“Before Nisim’s ribs rot away, I will surely—”

“Nisim? Who was that again?”

He knew full well, yet he asked anyway. It was the same name he had mentioned when he encountered the mage Bisan before.

“Ah.”

As if he had just remembered, Razard let out an exclamation with a heavy theatrical flair.

“The mage who swallowed the Marut! You worked so hard to get it out. Come to think of it, you cut him open so wide his ribs were showing. Is that why you’re saying that? What touching friendship.”

It was perfect mockery.

“You… disgusting… insect-like… bastard…”

“That’s enough. I’m busy; I have a promise to keep.”

He had to put Sami back before any more time passed. Normally, he would have provoked the man further until he withered away, but he didn’t have time to play right now. Besides, the fact that they had aimed for his back while he was using Sami to extract the Marut was quite unpleasant.

“Mage. Withdraw the sword.”

The moment Razard finished speaking, the sword fell with a clatter and rolled across the floor.

Since it was an expected outcome, he felt no thrill. Only the ring on his finger glistened greedily. The emerald gem decorating the center of the ring glowed ominously, like the eye of a snake.

“The one that dared to move you behind my back must be the ‘Shadow-Devouring Jinni.’”

“Urgh…!”

“Then, pay back the favor for working that Jinni until now.”

“N-no!”

Realizing what was about to happen, the mage shrieked. With a voice that surely had the veins in his neck bulging, he bared his teeth and cried out in agony.

“Razard, you lowly, filthy…!”

“Who would want to avenge Nisim? Ah, it must be Hatim.”

“…!”

“If you’re so grief-stricken, why didn’t you follow your friend?”

“How dare you…!”

“That’s my line. How dare you point a sword at me?”

Razard’s voice turned ice-cold. Yet, he remained relaxed and composed.

“Still, I am a merciful man… so first, I shall soothe your anger.”

“I will curse you. I’ll offer every magic to—”

“Hatim.”

No, it was a voice better described as bored.

“Relinquish your anger and command your Jinni.”

“…”

When he called the mage’s name, the curses coming from behind suddenly snapped shut.

All the shouting stopped abruptly, as if sliced off by a knife.

“I…”

A moment later, a weak, stuttering voice drifted from behind Razard’s back. It was a hollow voice, as if all emotion had evaporated.

“Command… the Jinni…”

The murderous rage that had been smoldering behind him vanished.

It was only natural. He had ordered him to “relinquish his anger,” and the ring would still be glowing blue over his shoulder. Once the trap was set, the rest was simple.

“You shall be devoured and killed by your Jinni.”

“I shall be devoured and killed by my Jinni.”

The mage didn’t even let out a common death rattle. Only the heavy splatter of blood that spread across the side of Razard’s face marked his end.

The sound of crunching echoed from behind… and soon, it became as quiet as if nothing had ever happened.

“Tsk. Talk about a lowly and filthy end.”

He clicked his tongue while wiping his blood-splattered cheek.

“Typical mages, always so fond of curses.”

Since he was already plagued by a curse, a crude one made of such trivial words was merely tiresome.

The man, who hadn’t looked back once, finally turned his head to check over his shoulder—simply to see how much blood had gotten on his body.

The mage, devoured by the Jinni, had clung to Razard’s back like a final grudge and left marks on his shoulder and cheek, but not a single drop had reached Sami, who lay in his lap.

Of course not. The only fluid Razard would allow on Sami was his own. From now, and forever.

“Still, it really is strange.”

Razard withdrew his hand and stared down at his ringed finger. When he gave a slight flick of his finger, the gems embedded in each ring poured out a soft, diamond-shaped light.

“It works exactly as I say, but… hmm.”

His head tilted to the side as he leaned down.

“Why didn’t it work earlier?”

And twice, at that.

There was a dark stain on the back of his hand. It seemed a few drops of blood had splattered there as well. Not feeling particularly pleased, Razard tightly clenched his loose fingers into a fist.

“Nn…”

As if sensing the sinister aura, a faint groan escaped Sami’s lips. Razard’s face, which had been wearing a murderous gaze, transformed in an instant.

“We can’t have that. Sami. Sleep a bit longer.”

He smiled broadly again and picked Sami up. Though the boy was heavy like water-soaked wood from his total lack of strength, the man’s firm arms easily lifted the slender body that sat on the boundary between boy and young man.

The body, which lacked the hardness of maturity, found its place flexibly in his arms with just a slight adjustment of Razard’s hands.

“I promised to take you back safely, didn’t I? I must keep my contract with you like a Jinni in a lamp.”

I told you before. I keep my promises.

Instead of leaving through the door and stepping over the fresh pool of blood, he gave a short whistle and hopped over the windowsill. As he fell lightly out the window holding Sami, a carpet flew in, responding to the whistle, and caught the two of them gently.

Feeling the texture of the soft wool rug against his back, Razard let out a smirk.

“It’s a bit dull without someone screaming that we’re falling.”

And here I thought I hated whiners.

Is it because his talent is so precious that everything about him looks cute?

⚜️

…mi, …Sami!

“Gasp!”

Sami groaned and then snapped his eyes open with a jolt as someone shook his shoulder. It felt like lately, he was frequently waking up in a fright, as if cold water had been dumped on him. The main culprit behind that was Razard, though.

“…Razard?”

“Stop talking in your sleep, mate. It’s already morning.”

“Huh…?”

When he sat up, he felt the rustle of the coarse straw he had layered under his bed. It was a familiar sensation. Even the smell of the palm bark lining the walls made of crushed sand and clay was familiar.

Before he could even blink again, he realized. This was the servants’ quarters for those serving Salif, and… he was in his own bed.