"…This is your chance. Give me everything you've got."
"Everything, huh?" said Fulgardt, scathingly. To think Skullius had reached a point where he could comfortably look down on him like so.
They were entangled in darkness, interpreting it within an infinitesimally minute space of time within the Labyrinth of the Yoke. This might have been a conversation happening inside their heads and within the labyrinth at the same time.
That was why they were both stripped bare of the powers they had obtained recently.
Fulgardt looked human, and Skullius no longer resembled a war god. In the background, some pitiable creature with slivers of Fulgardt's likeness wheezed weakly, steeped in unimaginable agony. There was plenty of relevance to it.
"Everything," Skullius confirmed. "I'm surprised you didn't dash for your Mantle while we were in the Bosom. You could have added it to your arsenal. I thought you had confidence in that thing, given that it's useless to anyone other than you."
