Dalric’s right hand did everything it could to escape his left’s grasp. It currently clawed his skin viciously, drawing blood all across the top of the hand. Such acts meant nothing to Dalric, his grip didn’t loosen in the least.

Submit now!

Dalric had remarked on the strange nature of the voice before, but now that he’d heard it cycle between the same two phrases over and over, he was certain it wasn’t just odd. It wasn’t the Gods. It wasn’t any of their voices at least. The feel of the presence was still undoubtedly theirs.

“Ryku! Keep going!”

Since his brain no longer sat at the center of their attention, his senses returned to him. With them came his speech as well. Nice as it was to get a good look at the wooden floor boards, those reacquisitions were only a result of their shifted focus. On the whole, they still overpowered him at any point they sought to take. As such, he’d only have command over his left arm for so long. He had to capitalize now.

Ryku was a lot more hesitant the second time around and it was understandable. The tug of war that both his arms partook in must have looked like the performance of a madman. To say nothing of the position he was in. From Ryku’s perspective, both of Dalric’s arms jerked erratically above his head as he knelt face first on the floor. One fought desperately to reach his head while the other kept it in a vice grip.

Submit!

Dalric didn’t have time to be understanding though, “Ryku! Now!”

Ryku seemed to rediscover his courage at Dalric's insistence, but he was a step too late. Dalric started losing his fingers. Before his grip slackened, he quickly raised his torso and swung both arms below him. Then he laid flat on top of them.

He thought pinning them like that, with his whole body weight, would give Ryku a bit of time, but his right arm almost immediately squirmed free. He rolled on to his side, pinning it once more, and then used his left elbow to press his forearm against the floor. Even though they’d taken his fingers, the rest of her left was still his. As much as those fingers writhed uncontrollably, they could neither impede him nor reach for his head.

“Now!”

Ryku instantly got to work this time. He inserted the fourth and fifth pieces in less than a blink. With all six Devil Glass pieces in, Dalric experienced something he’d have never thought possible.

The Gods no longer outmatched him.

Their strength waned. Their voice, or whatever voice projected into his head, faded alongside it. He’d called the pressure they levied flaccid before, but that was a statement of relativity. Now it just was.

Their positions hadn’t flipped, he didn’t outmatch them all of a sudden. It was rather a complete stalemate. Neither side held more power than the other. That was still beyond astonishing. It was the exact thing he had hoped to achieve, but actually experiencing didn’t seem real. Just being able to contest their command had felt fantastical. Now he could outright stop them.

Now they held no chains.

He didn’t let his emotions cloud him though. If he didn’t keep his right arm contained, all could still be lost.

In theory, he could cast a spell and if it really came down to it, he would, but for now he didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize the balance. Regardless of what ahjer was used, all spells originated from the soul. That shouldn’t matter in this circumstance because all the soul really did was translate the intent between the caster and ahjer, but Dalric didn’t know why or how he’d arrived at this stalemate. Anything and everything could be a risk to it.

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Thankfully, Ryku had seemed to piece together what he was trying to do. The shadows below him grew dark before raising off the ground and coiling around his arm. They kept coiling and coiling until his entire right arm looked like it had been taken by the void. Dalric tried to move his shoulder and found that it had been completely locked in place. Gratitude washed over him.

Now, all he had to do was wait. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it couldn’t have been too long. Which meant he still had the better part of a bell, far more than an hour, before the Gods’ presence receded again. To Ryku, that time would probably crawl anxiously by. For Dalric, he held all emotions at bay as he kept himself fully alert. He refused to allow even a blink of inattentiveness. The Gods had become weak and quiet, but anything could happen. Victory wasn’t won when the enemy put down their blade. It was won when they could no longer pick it up.

Dalric kept his focus until that time arrived.

In an instant, the pressure vanished completely. Both his right arm and left hand returned to him as the faint whispers of ‘submit’ and submit now’ disappeared. Dalric thought he had felt joy before, but he was woefully wrong. The outpouring of emotions that burst from within him was inexplicable.

He won.

He didn’t need to take his life, or even drain a bit of it. The Gods had contested him for control and he won.

Ahjer rushed through his right arm and he ripped it free from the shadows that had restrained it. The movement alarmed Ryku, but before he could dash away, Dalric rose and pulled him into a bear hug. He squeezed him tight, almost crushing him in excitement. Dalric just couldn’t contain himself.

He. Won.

He also almost crushed Ryku again seconds later as his body went limp and he fell back down to the ground.

----------------------------------------

Six different fists crashed into a glass-like table. The table shattered. Then it didn’t.

“How has this come to be?”

Nine beings sat around the kilometer wide table. Not all of them had faces, but all of them frowned.

"Is this too the work of that pest?"

"We underestimated her before..."

A wave of frustration passed through them all. That they were reduced to this still burned each of them.

“It can not be. If she had this power we would not have reached this point to begin with."

"You speak true, but then what explains this?"

"It is plainly impossible. Therefore it must be the work of Langurbiti.”

Do not speak of my name.

The walls, the table, the chairs, even the very ground crumbled. Then they didn’t.

None of them expected a response. Even without them being physically present, Langurbiti's presence weighed heavily on all of them. Not just them. Their realm already bled profusely and of course they'd worsened the matter.

“You claim non interference, yet you overturn the natural order.”

I have done no such thing.

Again, the grand hall fell apart. Again, it didn't.

"We are to believe you have no hand in this?"

This time the hall cracked. Inky black fractures spread from the far edges of the astral walls to the center of the room. The resulting fissure split a hole in reality. Nothing stepped out of it, but two hateful, red eyes stared through.

“You mar Ahjer’s legacy with your existence. If not for my vow, I would have ripped your souls from you long ago. Your failures are your own.”

None in the room spoke back. None could.

“I want you all to be aware. I will greatly enjoy what becomes of you.”