Chapter Forty—Guardian

On one knee, Debaku peered down into the throne chamber through the skylight, watched as Darius beckoned Shiro forward. Both men had swords—both were bare-chested.

It is a duel.

But Darius was far stronger than Shiro. Unfortunately, the isekai as he called himself, had almost no chance at besting this warrior before him.

It is nothing more than a vengeful display of malice.

With his scimitar sheathed at his side, Debaku grasped the rest of the weapons still wrapped inside the fabric sitting next to him.

The throne chamber was filled with onlookers, Scorpion Guards and…

Narrowing his eyes, Debaku strained his vision as he attempted to get a better look at the woman standing atop the dais. She was dressed in a revealing garment and bedecked with jewels.

Something about her was majestic and noble.

Is this Jessamine?

With intimate knowledge of the jinni, being a jinni bonded adventurer, Debaku was well aware of the constraints upon Jessamine. That attacking and killing Darius would sever her connection to the ethereal plane.

But that did not mean she couldn’t attack Darius’ Scorpion Guards.

Debaku was not one for easy intimacy—among friends or otherwise. Getting used to Archeamenes presence had taken a considerable amount of time. That was something he and Shiro lacked. They had not shared personal information to a large degree, but everything he knew from the foreign traveler who was now his friend, was that Jessamine was wholly on his side.

He thought back to their duel in the ally.

It had been storming.

At that time, he had thought Jessamine only a magicker—a fool I was.

Had it not been for Debaku, Shiro would not be facing his imminent death, and Jessamine would not be entrapped with the sultan.

And as he thought of Darius, the Black Cobra of Mar’a Thul noticed the glimmering lamp at the sultan’s side, slung over his shoulder with silver chain.

The two combatants moved, circling one another. Shiro held his scimitar high with the blade curved back slightly, while Darius held his blade at ease, in one hand, at his side.

There will be no contest between them.

Debaku had to move quickly, but then he was distracted from the movement in the upper chambers. There was an alcove with entablature and pillars, and an open view to the throne chamber.

Inside a man all in black with a large turban stood, watching and occasionally moving to get a better view of the proceedings.

Debaku did not have time to find out how to get to him—how to kill him. But he knew that sorcerer was a problem.

A poison thorn in my way.