Page 1598 -- CLXXII.

((The 17 pages of St. Patrick's Day + Triple Saturday -- Page 2 of 20))
Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Two: ‘Thine ambition, grasp firmly...’
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Royo Raju frowned tiredly. He didn’t know what to do now.

Frankly, when he’d been teleported into that chamber with Hector and a giant worm, seeing them both seconds away from crushing him like an insect, Royo had not wanted any part of it. Fighting human opponents was one thing. Even superhumans, he could deal with. But a damn worm, too?

He had lived in the Undercrust all his life. He knew only too well what those abominations were capable of.

So he had fled. He had used the Pendant of Unso and gotten the hell out of there. It was one of the wiser decisions he’d made lately, Royo felt. He had hoped that the worm would eliminate the Senmurai for him, especially considering the worm wasn’t an actual competitor in the tournament, meaning that Royo would win by default as the last man standing. In theory, anyway. He wasn’t sure if Malast would have made him fight the worm anyway, but presumably not, if the Idle God genuinely did want a successor for Secho.

Not that it mattered now, of course.

He and everyone else had witnessed Hector’s battle, thanks to Malast--or rather, thanks to the Staff of Unso.

An artifact, according to the Piercing Eye, which was capable of creating traversable rifts in space when used in conjunction with Heartstone. Created 1,348 years ago by Unso.

What Heartstone was, Royo had yet to work out, nor did it seem as though he would know anytime soon.

Fatigue had reared its ugly head after that reading. Certainly, the battle with Seyos had been exhausting, but this was beyond merely that. It was a side effect of using the Piercing Eye so much, he was convinced.

So he had stopped using it, despite very much wanting to. He had managed to catch a glimpse of the absolute abyss of information that was sitting right there in front of him, in the form of the Idle God.

Royo didn’t know what would happen if he tried to wade into that territory. If he didn’t already feel on the verge of passing out, he might have been more tempted to try it.

And so, here he now was, sitting on the ground and trying to recuperate--or at least think of some sort of plan, maybe--while he observed the Senmurai finishing off that monster.

He could hear the one called Zeff laughing faintly. “Impossible,” the man was saying, sounding equal parts amused and incredulous.

Only minutes ago, the man had been shouting at Malast--and even threatening and grabbing him by the neck. He didn’t seem to understand or perhaps even care that he was speaking to a god.

Malast had only sat there, however, telling him that it wouldn’t be fair to let him join the tournament this late, even though he would make a suitable vessel for Secho.

The one called Zeff had seemed as though he were about to become violent, until suddenly, the Senmurai started winning.

It was so profoundly unfair.

Confident as he was in himself, Royo didn’t think he was a match for the Senmurai. Certainly not now. Not after what he’d just seen.