Page 1507 -- CLXII.

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Malast didn’t respond. He looked down at the jar in his lap, running his hand along the lid.

Seyos turned back toward Hector and the others, and the jewel on his staff began to glow again.

“You may be right,” the Idle God said. “Perhaps you will surprise me.”

“Excellent!” said Seyos.

“To me,” said Malast with that sudden weight behind his words again.

The staff flew from Seyos’ hand and into Malast’s waiting one. It stopped glowing, as did the pendant around Seyos’ neck.

“What are you--?!”

“Any among you could surprise me, I suppose,” said Malast. “I should not dismiss your potential so easily. Very well. I shall give you all an opportunity to achieve beyond yourselves, as the Hidden One and the Iron One have.”

Hector didn’t quite follow most of that, but the time for questions was past, it seemed.

The staff in Malast’s hands lit up with renewed vigor, far brighter than before--so much so, in fact, that after a few moments, it sparked to life with glaring electricity. Light filled the whole chamber in intensifying waves, and Hector had to shield his eyes so as not to be blinded.

The prior darkness all around melted away, revealing the distant rock walls that they had only been able to glimpse previously with their meager lamplights.

Jagged blue bolts erupted from Malast’s staff and leapt out across the chamber, arcing toward four separate corners, where Hector noticed familiar stone monuments waiting to receive them. They had blended in so seamlessly with the rock behind them that only now could Hector tell they were there, somehow coated with a visible electric charge.

“We shall have a tournament,” announced Malast in a voice that boomed even over the crackling lightning. “The winner, if they be suitable by the end of it, shall be Secho’s vessel.”


Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Two: ‘Embrace thy turmoil and observe...’
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To say that Diego did not appreciate being unable to speak was an understatement, but it currently made no difference, as he was genuinely speechless.

“There is only one rule,” Malast continued, still not even standing up from his stone seat. “You win when your opponent either dies or admits defeat. All else is acceptable on the path to victory.”

They were not given an opportunity to respond.

Light distorted and consumed Diego’s vision, and he felt Yangéra grab his shoulder to make sure they didn’t get separated.

It was the same sensation he’d felt during their previous teleport, so it wasn’t as disorienting this time, but it still wasn’t exactly a joy ride, either. When his vision steadied itself again, he discovered a sight which he was not at all expecting.

Gold. Piles and piles of it. Chests spilling over with gems and gold and artifacts of presumably tremendous value, judging by everything around them.

This was a completely different room, Diego realized, which meant this treasure was also completely different from that which had surrounded Malast.