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((The 17 pages of St. Patrick's Day + Triple Saturday -- Page 4 of 20))
He’d encountered games like this before. Hell, he’d helped make a few of them. So he knew that there was really only one thing, besides surrendering, that players could do when they found themselves besieged from all angles like this.

Change the game.

Everyone was staring at Royo now, waiting for his response.

Royo kept his gaze locked on Malast as he chose his next words very carefully. “...What will you do if the Iron One, as you call him, actually wins this tournament?”

“What do you mean?” said Malast. “I’ll give him Secho’s remains, as I said I would.”

“...And what if he accepts Secho’s remains, but decides not to use them?” said Royo.

Malast made no response.

“What if he elects not to become a god,” said Royo. “What will you do, then?”

“That wouldn’t make any sense,” said Malast, though he sounded uncertain. “He could have surrendered at any time. Why would he have fought so hard in this tournament, if he didn’t wish to win?”

“He does wish to win,” said Royo. “He simply does not want the prize. At least, not to use.”

“What does he want it for, then?”

“He wants to keep it so that none may use it,” said Royo. He didn’t actually know that, of course, but as long as it supported his cause and sounded convincing, then it didn’t matter whether it was true or not. As long as he said it with complete and utter confidence, then maybe Malast would believe it. “His goal is not to harness the power you are offering. His goal is to prevent anyone else from harnessing that power for evil--or what he views as evil, at least.”

Malast smacked his lips but didn’t say anything.

“Ask him yourself, if you want,” said Royo, in truth hoping that Malast wouldn’t do that. Perhaps this wasn’t the time for such a simple trick as reverse psychology, but he did have something to follow it up with. “Just don’t expect him to tell you the truth. Obviously, he would not want you to realize that he has no intention of doing as you want him to.”

The one called Zeff intervened. “What the hell are you talking about? What is all this nonsense about becoming a god?”

This was precisely what Royo didn’t need, right now. Why couldn’t this problematic fool have just stayed where he was back in Himmekel? Royo didn’t even know how the hell the one called Zeff had managed to get here.

“I thought you already knew all about that,” said Malast. “That’s what this whole tournament is for. Wasn’t that why you wanted to join?”

“I didn’t want to join your moronic tournament!” said Zeff. “I just want my people back! Either bring Hector here now or take me to him so that I can bring him back myself!”

“The tournament isn’t over yet.” Malast’s eyes returned to Royo. “Or is it?”