[Voidknight Ascension] Chapter 267 – An Unexpected Reunion II

Zahif gave Sam and Komachi a tour of the markets.

They were overwhelmed with choice. Though he had just eaten, Sam found he had the appetite for more. The twinned cities were a melting pot of cuisine and craftsmanship.

It was hardly what he expected in a place that was regularly attacked by monster incursions.

He dug into a steaming bowl of red curry, topped with fresh slices of pineapple and a fruit that looked–and tasted–just like mango. He opted for the spiciest variety and paid for it.

Though his mouth burned like an inferno, it was nothing compared to Komachi’s reaction.

Apparently, animals farting ribbons of flame weren’t too unusual even in the Empire. His armor earned more than a few scorch marks.

It wasn’t until Zahif brought them to the fresh produce section of the market that he made good on his word.

“You can’t be serious,” Sam said, staring at the large series of stalls.

“He wanted to honor you,” Zahif said, suppressing a grin on his stately face. “We all thought you would be proud.”

“It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Nonsense. Besides, the likeness is very becoming, don’t you agree?”

Sam shook his head.

They stood before a mural on the wall next to a permanent shop of brick and mortar, a rarity in Al Dhorna. The mural and the mascot for the company was a muscular shirtless man flexing his biceps. Balanced atop each bulging muscle was a pineapple.

It was exceptionally accurate, so much so that many people passing by pointed and stared. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Galbast’s fortune had been made thanks in part to him, there was more. Not only was their mascot the spitting image of Sam, the company name was also an homage.

“Heh, BEEFY,” Komachi said before taking out some parchment and painting a replica. “Raiko would like this.”

The art in progress already felt like looking into a mirror.

“Really though?” Sam asked. “Did he have to call it ‘Pineapple Sam’? That sounds like a really bad superhero name.”

“I’m not sure what that is,” Zahif said sanguinely. “Pineapple Sam is one of the largest fruit merchants in all the Empire. It all started with the humble pineapple, a name that caught the attention of every soul who heard it. With the money he gained from the few shipments of pineapples that didn’t get destroyed, he bought even more. One ship became two, then three, five, seven…you should have seen the old man’s face.”

“He deserved it for everything I put him through,” Sam said with a laugh.

“You and me both!”

Komachi hopped up on a counter and hugged a pineapple larger than herself. The fronds of the pineapple were blue and green, but otherwise looked identical to what Sam was familiar with.

In fact, there was a huge array of pineapples with different qualities. Some had white skin, others were the typical golden-brown, and their fronds were every color under the sun.

“I see our esteemed pineapple master has returned for another sampling!” said the middle-aged shop owner.

“Mirtha,” Zahif said with a smile and a slight bow. “How well you know me.”

Mirtha put her hands on her hips. She looked like she could have been Galbast’s daughter. She was stocky and built as if she could crush pineapples in her bare hands. Despite her obvious strength, she had a ready smile for Zahif and a curious lingering gaze for Sam.

Somebody passing by in the street clapped him on the back. “Hey, it’s Pineapple Sam!” The wolfman shook out his paw-like hand as he continued walking, surprised at how sturdy Sam was.

That’s going to keep happening, isn’t it?

Indeed it did.

Several groups of people came up asking for him to pose with pineapples on his biceps. Something Sam had zero interest in doing until Komachi gave him the big kitten eyes.

That was how Sam spent the afternoon. At some point, Komachi began charging Mirtha for the promotion.

Between getting gifts, randomly accosted good-naturedly by passersby, and people asking for something called a “stilegraph” which Sam learned was a magical photograph that accurately captured the moment, he hardly had time to breathe.

“It’s like a jif,” Komachi said. Sam tensed, but then he noticed her kittenish smile.

“Komachi, I love you, but if you don’t pronounce it right, I’m going to pet you the wrong way.”

“…You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

“What is a ‘jif’?” Zahif asked, his arms full of canvas bags.

As the one who got him into this mess, Sam figured the least the brat could do would be to carry his various gifts. It hardly mattered how old Zahif was. Sam would always fondly think of him as that little kid aboard the Wavedancer.

“It’s pronounced ‘gif’ like you’re going to say gift. Just drop the ‘t’.”

“Gif, huh?” Zahif said thoughtfully.

Sam turned to Komachi. “Well?”

His cat jumped up on the merchant counter, then climbed atop a stack of towering pineapples until she could finally see eye-to-eye with Sam.

Zahif chuckled quietly, watching the contest of wills.

“Komachi…” Sam warned.

“I’ma say it!” she threatened. “Don’t you dare stop Machi!”

Sam raised his hand gently and hovered it over her. “You really wanna fuck around? Because you’re heading for the find out phase real fast.”

Narrowing her eyes, Komachi wiggled her rump while conspicuously looking up as if she was going to leap for a higher vantage point. True to cat body language everywhere, Komachi lunged towards the top of his head and cried out, “Jif!”

Sam knew what she was going to do before she did it. Aside from the fact that Komachi clearly telegraphed her intention, he knew her well. Sometimes she could be cowed, but usually she needed discipline to know where that line was.

If Sam chickened out and let her off the hook, she wouldn’t learn her lesson. Honestly, she probably wouldn’t learn her lesson in any case, but at least this way, Sam had some fun. Her lesson being the all-time most important thing of pronouncing the word “GIF” properly.

Sam’s hands found her easily atop his head and began to pet her from tail to head. “It’s pronounced GIF!” he told her. “Graphics. Interchange. Format! Graphics! Not Jraphics!”

That was possibly the wrong step to take. “Jraphics?” she asked, then repeated the word a few more times to really wear it out.

The onlookers watched as Komachi and Sam struggled. A large muscular man and a small golden cat fighting in the middle of the market drew an increasingly larger crowd.

“I finally found you!” a familiar curt voice said, cutting through the laughs and japes of the crowd.

Sam, by that point, had Komachi upside down and was swinging her around by her back paws as she screamed her head off. He paused, pulled Komachi close and his cat cuddled against him as if all was right with the world.

“Monsara?” Sam said. “What are you doing looking for me?”

“You find your cat a more worthy opponent than me?” she said sharply. “I don’t know how you’ve managed to duck so many offers. I guess none of the guilds thought to find you in the market, of all places. You do realize you’re one of the most sought after fighters in all the Empire, don’t you?”

Sam shrugged. “I’ve had more important things to deal with.”

“Then I suppose you don’t care about our bet?” Monsara asked, a sharp gleam in her eyes.

“The bet I won?” Sam asked, grinning.

That shut her down quick. “Beginner’s luck. That’s all, but my word is my bond. I will honor our agreement.” She reached into her armor and pulled out a small velvet pouch, which clinked merrily as she tossed it to him. “You bested me by three dozen kills. Here’s what you’re owed.”

Komachi rubbed her paw pads together. “Dat’s some dosh aight.”

Sam pocketed the pouch without bothering to count. “By my reckoning, I believe I got a good amount more than that.”

“You were helped by that alchemist. Without her pulling the monsters in, you wouldn’t have had such a lead. And as you stipulated, what others do with their kills is on them, not you. Therefore, only the non-assisted kills counted.” She mumbled under her breath, “Which still put you in the lead.”

He didn’t bother to fight her on it. It would have been easy to point out that Monsara worked with a team that likely helped her out with kills too. Though he couldn’t say for sure. It wasn’t like he watched her during the incursion.

I’m already becoming increasingly intermeshed in society here. Maybe I should be poking into things a little less.

“That being said, you could make four or five times that amount easily if you joined a group, let alone a guild. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Empire itself has its eye on you now.”

Zahif snorted a laugh. “I’ll bet.”

Monsara, who hadn’t noticed him before, turned to the old man now. Her expression went through nearly a dozen different variations. All the way from disdain at the obvious serving-man who was holding Sam’s items to slow dawning realization, horror, awe, shock, finally giving way to stuttering apologies. “I-I did not see you there, Master Zahif! I meant no offense.”

Before Zahif could say another word, Monsara dropped to one knee and took a penitent pose. “By the thirteen primals of the Empire, I did not realize you had returned to the twinned cities!”

“Be at ease, Monsara,” Zahif said gently. “You have caused no offense. I do look a little like a serving man, don’t I?” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Zahif is badass?” Komachi asked with no care for subtlety.

“He is the greatest martial artist the Empire has ever known!” Monsara said, still not rising from her position. “He has trained Kings and Queens across the world. The Emperor and Empress, as well as their young son have been trained by this man! His hands are considered weapons of mass destruction in nine provinces, and he is banned from using them without an express writ from the Imperial Court!”

“Well, sheeit…”

For the first time that Sam had seen Zahif again, the man looked flustered, bordering on embarrassed. “Enough, Monsara.”

The red-haired woman ducked her head in apology.

Without raising his voice, Zahif said, “If you do not rise and meet my eyes like a proper adventurer, I will kick you so hard you will land on the other side of the Rippling Walls.”

A slap wouldn’t have caused as much of a reaction. Monsara surged to her feet. Several people who had clustered around were now watching Zahif with growing interest.

At least it’s not me, Sam thought. Then he realized that Zahif was probably enjoying the anonymity until Monsara ruined it.

What must it be like to be so well known that people bother you wherever you go? It must have been nice to have a moment of peace where Sam’s antics stole the spotlight for however brief a time.

Monsara, however, just couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Since you are back in the Empire, that must mean you have agreed to take on a student…”

The loaded question was obvious. Despite her earlier fear, she puffed out her chest, clearly expecting that Zahif would claim her as a pupil, though Sam couldn’t begin to guess at their relationship.

“I have,” Zahif said. His green eyes sparkled with mirth as he shifted dozens of satchels to one withered arm with ease and patted Sam’s shoulder with the other.

If looks could kill, Sam would have been blasted to oblivion right then and there. Monsara snarled in the back of her throat, turned on her heels, and vanished into the crowd without another word.

“Rude!” Komachi called to her retreating back.

Sam looked over at Zahif. In that simple motion, the boy he once knew, now grown into a wise old man, had shifted the attention of the crowd back to Sam.

“I will come to retrieve you in an hour for your training,” Zahif said, slipping away into the crowd. “Enjoy your fame, Pineapple Sam!”

Before he could say anything, Zahif was gone. Slipped between two cobalt-robed individuals with head wrappings. The pair watched Sam with more intensity than he was comfortable with.

Sam’s cop-sense was tingling.