Ejrām charged towards him with high speed, pointing her fist towards Ezlām, ready to knock him out in one single heavy blow.
And that was how the exchange of blow began, without Ezlām having time to use his astral energy to create something he intended to—A rifle, a bayonette, or anything like that.
The fight was a brutal dance of attrition. Sand and sweat mingled in the cold air as Ezlām pressed his attack against the relentless Ejrām.
Each strike he landed was met with two in return, her movements a whirlwind of fierce precision. He roared with effort as he swung a heavy right, only for Ejrām to slip inside and deliver a punishing elbow to his ribs, sending a jolt of white-hot pain through him.
"I said that you can use everything in your arsenal, you filthy shayṫān." She smirked.
Ezlām stumbled back, gasping for air. His vision momentarily blurring. He could taste blood in his mouth, and his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. "How could I? You didn't even gave me a time!"
She laughed. "That was my point!"
Ejrām pressed her advantage, her face a mask of fierce determination as she rained down a series of rapid punches. One caught him high on the cheekbone, another slammed into his already aching shoulder. He could feel his strength ebbing away with each blow, his muscles screaming in protest.
Fuck your body, Ezlām! Go to the gym or something! Shit!
He lunged desperately, grabbing for Ejrām's legs in a clumsy takedown attempt. She sidestepped with surprising agility despite her size, and Ezlām crashed to the ground, the sands scraping against his already battered skin.
Sand scorched Ezlām's wounded skin, while Ejrām's breath hissed like a serpent poised to strike.
Ejrām was on him in an instant, delivering a brutal kick to his side that stole his breath. He groaned, the pain threatening to overwhelm him.
Summoning a reserve of sheer willpower, Ezlām rolled, narrowly avoiding another strike. He scrambled back to his feet, his body screaming in protest. His vision swam, and black spots danced at the edges of his sight.
He could hear Ejrām's sharp breaths, feel her relentless pressure, but his own senses were fading. Each movement was an agonizing effort, each breath a burning torment.
Shit! I can't take it any longer!
He knew he was on the brink. One more solid hit, and he would surely fall. With a final, desperate surge of adrenaline, he swung wildly, a clumsy, telegraphed blow. To his disbelief, it connected. Ejrām staggered back, a look of shock momentarily crossing her features. It was the opening he desperately needed.
Ezlām's wild strike slammed into Ejrām's temple, sending her reeling—a surprise even she hadn't expected from the half-conscious shayṫān.
Pushing past the waves of nausea and the encroaching darkness, Ezlām lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Ejrām's waist. With a final, guttural roar, he used the last vestiges of his strength to slam her to the rocky ground. The impact jarred his already failing senses, and the world swam violently.
Ejrām slumped against the ground, momentarily stunned. It was enough to make her splat the black blood everywhere. Ezlām leaned heavily against her, his own consciousness flickering.
He could feel the warmth of her body against his, the rise and fall of her ragged breaths, every curve that was squeezed, even her strange thin moan she let out.
From one corner, the king cobras slithered In speed towards Ezlām, and landed on top of the man's back. A greenish light began to envelop him and Ejrām who was pinned down by his body. A healing light that very slowly, healed the wounds on their bodies.
All that was heard after that was the sound of the breathing of the two creatures of different sexes, as well as a soft hiss that resembled a cat's purring.
Ejrām laughed lewdly. Her two arms hugged Ezlām so tightly as the king cobras descended from the man's body.
"See. I was right. You're in the mood to make a baby!"
Ezlām, whose consciousness was slowly returning, found that his face was resting on Ejrām's breast which was only covered by a thin cloth. He closed his eyes and tried to struggle as hard as he could, trying to free himself from that "hot" embrace.
"No! I never meant that!"
"Then why are you pressing down on me in this position? You even healed all the wounds I got. You are preparing my body to accommodate your seeds, aren't you?"
She pressed his body to her even more, unable him to move an inch.
"Don't deny it, Ezlām. I understood your intentions. Besides, you have defeated me, you have the right to do so. Came to think of it, there was no shayṫān that ever gave me their seeds before. Oh, this one could be awesome experience!"
"Let me go, you h*rny snake! Don't you even know how to detect if I was lying or not?!" With persistence, Ezlām still tried to free his body from Ejrām's embrace.
Ejrām loosened her embrace, as if realizing something she hasn't noticed before. Then, with both hands, she made Ezlām's face right in front of hers, creating a frictional sensation that she found so arousing.
She stared him in the eyes.
"Shit! You aren't lying. Then how could I dispense my urges?"
With one movement, Ezlām managed to free himself and roll to his side. He sat up and caught his breath.
"Urges!? Are you dumb or something?! That was lust! Don't play around with words in front of me."
Ejrām sat facing him, and opened her crotch wide, showing the wet cloth covering her private area. She even slipped her finger in there, took it out again, and showed the watery mucus to the man.
"Then, what should we do about this?"
Ezlām closed his eyes tightly. As a true virgin to the bone, the scene he was seeing would be very dangerous to the conviction he had. One night stand? Big no no. Then he said angrily.
"We?! That was your problem, You venomous temptress! Don't you dare to include me!"
She shrugged her shoulders, covered her crotch again, and sat in a normal position. "Well, there was always another time for every opportunity. I can deal it my self for now."
One of the king cobras climbed onto Hamad's lap and curled up, as if resting. The one with a tiny reddish cristal on the head. It was looked so tired.
"Oh, hi, good boy. Thank you for saving my ass twice in the row." He petted its head gently. "Where were your friends?"
"They were vanished to the thin air." No, it wasn't the king cobra. That was Ejrām who answered his question in -strangely- a tender voice.
"What do you mean by that?"
"That was exactly what I meant."
"No. I mean, how could?"
She furrowed her thin eyebrows. "How couldn't you understand this basic knowledge of manifestation technic?"
Yes! Free lores! Let's made up some bullshit to convince her. Thank you for your informations, Umm Ḥuwayda. May you live in peace.
"This was my first time as a shayṫān. How could I knew that? I was just a mere human seeking for revenge before."
He said the truth. He was a mere human back in his world, seeking for revenge before his tragic death happened. After transmigrated to this world, he suddenly had a new identity as a shayṫān. Of course he knew nothing.
"That was make sense." She rubbed her chin. "So, this was the reason why you gambled your live for a mere informations that every shei' knew."
"You've got the brain right there." He darted his gaze towards her. "So, can you elaborate what you said earlier?"
Suddenly, a faint blush appeared on her face, which Ezlām -of course- didn't notice. She shook her head to dispel unnecessary thoughts, then cleared her throat.
"So, that was a very strict limit for anything you could manifest with your astral energies. It could be time, power, quality, quantity, or anything. That's why I said that you wasted your limited astral energies.
"Honestly speaking, I'm curious about one thing. If this was your first time as shayṫān, how could you manage to discovered this very old-style technique called manifestation? Did the djinn you made a pact with not teach you anything beforehand?"
"They left me alone in this harsh world." He smiled bitterly. What he meant was his parents, causing the right emotions he need to add some spices. "Anyway, as for my case, did you know why could this good boy in my lap still around?"
The king cobra closed its eyes tightly, as if it felt save on Ezlām's lap.
"He has consumed the gawhar el-ḥayā from one of my people, hasn't he?" She asked softly.
"Were you referring to the tiny reddish cristal inside the head of the one who dragged me here?"
"Exactly."
"I'm sorry about that."
Ezlām bowed his head deeply, indicating the regret one would have after killing an innocent person. In fact, he did this so that Ejrām would go deeper into his made-up story, and feel an empathy for him.
When Ejrām's empathy for Ezlām has been solidly formed, then she wouldn't hesitate to help him.
That was the theory.
"I didn't know that it was your people." He emphasize it.
She smiled brightly. "Don't mention that. This afternoon, that died scum proposed me to insert his seeds into my womb. Of course, as a matriarch, I gave him a condition if he wanted to do so. He had to prove that he was worthy of the honor.
"If he died in your hands, then he wasn't worthy. Case closed. Nothing to be sorry for."
There was only a silent for some solid seconds.
She felt the awkwardness around them, and a little uncomfortable with it. So, she changed the subject. "Anyway. Since you seems clueless, I'm gonna explain a little bit.
"Gawhar el-ḥayā was the essence of life for the most of shei' like my kind. Every drop of astral energies we collected stored in those tiny cristal. It was even the one that allow us to absorb astral energies."
Gotcha!
"Based on its tiny size, wasn't there a very strict limit on the amount of astral energy you can absorb?" Ezlām peppered the question with a hint of worry.
"Of course."
"If that was the case, how could you be this strong?"
***